#put a little silly cowboy hat on him and call it a day

[thecoolsquirrel]

Epel when he first arrived to NRC!

!!!I DIDNT DRAW IT BUT HE'S WEARING COWBOY BOOTS!!

[shuadotcom]

143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of  “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room. 

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips. 

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little. 

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again. 

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you. 

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size. 

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?” 

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.” 

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan. 

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way. 

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name. 

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response. 

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow. 

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go. 

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him. 

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist. 

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away. 

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth. 

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.” 

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster. 

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!” 

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub. 

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room. 

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on. 

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.” 

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.” 

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu. 

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again. 

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm. 

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

Permanent Taglist: @aaniag

Net Tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

[zegrasdrysdale]

I know you’ve been getting Ethan Edwards smuts recently but I just thought of one today and thought I’d share it with you! Riding Ethan because he’s too hurt to be on top!

Hoping you could write this for me!! Thank you!!

[ saddle up ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : a bored and injured Ethan finds his girl’s cowgirl hat from Halloween after a few months and is wearing it when she comes to the hockey house after class hoping she gets the hint

warning(s) : smut ! dirty talk, use of pet names during sex, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), injured!ethan (but he’s also horny lol)

author’s note : pls send all the ethan smut requests bc i am a whore for this man and i will pretty much write anything i get abt him lmaoo. enjoy anon <33

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The moment she walks into the hockey house after a full day of classes and lectures, something’s off. The house is usually buzzing with hockey players by the time four rolls around and she comes walking into the house.

This time, the house is empty. Luca isn’t sitting in the living room playing some kind of game with Adam, the Duke boys aren’t yelling at each other in the kitchen, no stray hockey player is doing his homework or playing with Luca if Adam has a game.

It’s too quiet.

“Ethan?” she calls out. “Are you here?”

There’s no way they’d leave Ethan alone with his injured shoulder. He still needs help with a few basic things and can’t put a lot of weight on his shoulder yet. That’s why she’s practically been living with four hockey players since she and Ethan came back from summer break.

As she walks up the stairs, a soft “here” comes from down the hallway. She pushes the door to Ethan’s room open and peeks her head inside.

Ethan is lying in bed so she feels a little better, but he’s wearing an unbuttoned checkered flannel and a pair of jeans. Her sparkly black cowgirl hat from Halloween is on his head. She covers her smile with her hand and has to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she asks, voice muffled by her hands. The laughter is evident in her voice. “What is happening?”

He smiles and slowly manuvers himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard behind him. “I got bored and was pacing around my room and I found your hat while I was doing that,” he tells her. “Dressed the part. I was hoping you’d do me a favor though.”

She kicks the door shut behind her and drops her bag on the floor next to it. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Save a horse, ride a hockey player?” Ethan tells her. It’s more of a question than a comment. “Well, a hockey player dressed as a cowboy. Anyway, please?”

Even injured and ordered by the doctor to rest, Ethan is thinking about sex. Possibly explains why the house is so empty. “Did you kick everyone out or something?” she asks. “It’s Wednesday. The house is usually filled to the brim with hockey players by now.”

“Coach Naurato called an emergency practice at Yost,” he explains. “There’s a team meeting I have to go to at seven but until then, I have the house all to myself.” He pats his lap with the hand that’s attached to his healthy shoulder. “So, saddle up.”

The laugh that she’s been surpressing bubbles from her throat. She loses it for a second, but she kicks off her sneakers anyway. “You are insufferable, Ethan Edwards,” she laughs. “Hot, but insufferable.”

Ethan shoots her another smile. “Yeah, but you still love me anyway,” he comments as she carefully crawls onto his lap. “Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked so I knew you couldn’t turn this down.”

She rolls her eyes and plays with the button on Ethan’s jeans. “I wanted to be careful because of your shoulder, E,” she tells him. “But yeah I’m losing my mind a little bit because it’s been a while.”

“Knew it,” Ethan laughs.

“You better be nice to me,” she reminds him as she pops his jeans open by undoing the button. “I’ll make sure this goes excruciatingly slow for you if you’re not nice to me.”

He throws his hands in the air in surrender. “Alright,” he says. “No need for threats.”

She smiles and kneels between his knees so she can get his pants off. She wiggles the jeans off of his legs and throws them on the floor. She can clearly see the bulge that’s formed in his boxers. With a light touch, she traces the bulge and Ethan presses his lips in a line.

Her fingers trail up over his abs and toned chest until she grazes his stubbled jaw. She carefully leans over him so she doesn’t accidentally put pressure on his shoulder.

Their eyes meet and Ethan smiles. “Hi, baby,” he says.

“Hi, handsome,” she giggles. “You sit there and rest like the doctor you to. I’ll take care of you.”

Ethan nods and she surges forward to capture his lips in a needy kiss. She cups his jaw and moves herself so she straddles one of his thighs. One of Ethan’s hands slides up the back of her shirt that she borrowed stole from him.

It’s very much been a while since they’ve properly had sex. It was before Ethan’s surgery, which was nearly seven months ago. Even then it was sporadic because he was playing through an injury and she didn’t want to hurt him even more. It’s been consistently hands, fingers, and mouths since about five months ago.

They’re great, especially when it’s Ethan’s fingers or tongue that make her come. Nothing will compare to being filled by Ethan’s dick though.

Yeah, she’s missed proper sex. Just a little bit. Or a lot.

She reaches down between them to pull her Ethan’s shirt over her head. The kiss breaks but Ethan leans up a bit and presses kisses to her collarbone. The hat he is wearing is knocked off his head and falls onto the pillows behind him. She grabs it and puts it on her own head.

He looks up at her and pulls back. “Saving a horse, riding a hockey player,” she comments. “Plus, it’s my hat.”

“It looks better on you anyway,” he replies. She tilts her hat in his direction and Ethan laughs.

His fingers slide to her back and unclasp the bra she had on. It falls between them and Ethan tosses it to the floor. He kisses her collarbones and chest. His lips trail down to her boobs. He’s always loved her tits and has always given them extra attention. Now is no different.

She leans her head back and sighs as Ethan cups one breast while he takes the other in his mouth. He switches after a moment. Her fingers are in his hair and she leaves the occasional kiss to his temple. “Ethan,” she sighs into his hair.

“Let me give my pretty girl some love first,” he mumbles against her skin. She smiles into his locks. “Then you’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

It feels like an eternity later when Ethan finally pulls back and looks up at her with the most innocent look on his face. Her chest is covered in red marks that only the two of them will ever see since it’s not bathing suit season. She shakes her head with a laugh before she leans in and captures his lips in a soft kiss.

Ethan begins to push at the waist and of the leggings she has on. “Come on, baby,” he whines into the kiss. “Off. Want you to ride me, pretty girl.”

His words shoot straight to her core and she hums. She loves when he talks to her like this and calls her ‘pretty girl’.

She has to break the kiss so she can get her pants off for him. She pushes the leggings, along with her already wet panties, down to her knees. She kicks them off from there. Ethan bites his bottom lip when she crawls onto his lap, completely naked.

Very carefully, she pushes the flannel that he’s wearing off his body. He sits up so she can get it off his arms without bumping his shoulder. The shirt joins the rest of their clothes on the ground.

Just to be a tease, she rolls her hips against Ethan’s. He groans and both his hands fly to her waist. “Keep doing that and we’re gonna have a problem,” he tells her. With a smile, she pulls his boxers off of him. His dick springs free of it’s confines as she throws the fabric to the floor with a soft thud.

She takes him in one hand and reaches over to his table to grab a condom out of the drawer. He intercepts her hand and she raises her eyebrows at him. “As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t want to use one,” he comments. “I just want to feel you.”

“You are so lucky that I started taking the pill,” she tells him with a laugh. “I’d be saying absolutely not if I didn’t.”

“Thank God for birth control,” Ethan replies. She smiles and leans in to kiss him again. One of his hands comes up to cup her face. She moves herself so she straddles his waist.

After a few extra pumps, she lines Ethan’s dick up with her entrance. She slowly sinks down on his cock with a sigh against his lips. His hands are on her waist to help her stay balanced. She feels the familiar stretch as she lowers herself onto his dick.

Once he’s completely inside of her, she gives herself a second since it’s been a while. Then she slowly moves her hips, still trying to be careful of Ethan’s shoulder.

Soft pants pass her lips into the messy kiss. The quicker her movements are, the heavier the pants. She has to break the kiss and rests her forehead against Ethan’s so she can breathe.

One of his hands comes up and cups her jaw. His thumb runs over her swollen lips and her hair has formed a curtain around their faces. She continues to move at a steady pace.

“Fuck,” she pants. “Missed this, E. Missed you.”

“Never left, baby,” he tells her. “Missed this too though.”

She smiles and kisses him again. Her hands rest on his torso as she quickens her pace.

The kiss doesn’t last long. The tip of his cock grazes her favorite spot and she groans. She sits back and is able to move at a slower but more comfortable pace and speed.

Ethan’s fingers trail from her jaw, down between her tits and over her stomach until he reaches her clit. She falters in her pace for a second but quickly recovers as she gets used to his fingers on her clit. “Don’t stop, E,” she pants as the knot in her stomach forms. “Shit.”

“I have you, pretty girl,” Ethan tells her. His own voice is shaky. “Look so pretty riding my cock, baby.”

She bites her bottom lip as her legs begin to shake on either side of his waist. Her orgasm is imminent but she isn’t ready for this to be over so quickly.

Her hands slide from his torso to his chest. Ethan’s able to lean his head up a bit and press soft kisses to her wrist. He grabs her hand with his free hand and kisses the back of it before he trails kisses down her arm. He gently pulls her so she leans over him again.

She lightly wraps her arms around his neck and quickens her pace one more time. “Fuck, E,” she gasps as the knot threatens to come undone. “Don’t want this to be over.”

“Come on my cock, sweet girl,” he tells her. “We’ll do this as many times as you want. Just wanna see you come on my cock, baby.”

His words mixed with his fingers on her clit and dick inside her are too much and she comes the next time she lowers herself onto him.

She loudly cries out his name as she reaches her high. Ethan cups her face in his hands so she doesn’t fall but she also grabs onto the headboard just in case. She loses her vision for two seconds and sees stars.

Ethan isn’t far behind her. With his healthy arm, he lifts her up and comes on her stomach and thighs. She heavily pants with a smile on her face as Ethan sinks back against the headboard after his own orgasm. He has a lazy smile on his own lips.

She leans in and they share a handful of lazy kisses as they both come down from their highs and get feeling back in their bodies.

As soon as she feels like she can stand, she gets off of Ethan and grabs the shirt she stole from him to wipe herself off. She finishes the job once she pees and wets a cloth.

When she comes back into the room, Ethan has the hat back on and is laying under the covers from the waist down. She laughs and shakes her head as she crawls under the covers with him.

She presses soft kisses to the scar on his shoulder. “I love you,” she mumbles. “The hat’s gotta go though. I’m down to do that again without the hat.”

Ethan tosses the hat somewhere in the room. “I love you,” he tells her. “I have an alarm set so you can sleep if you want.”

With a soft hum in agreement, her tired body gives in to sleep as she curls up around her boyfriend.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[nowshesdoingitallthetime]

Cocktails, Cowboys and Back Alleyways

[a/n: hi… this started as just a silly little brainrot that grew into something much bigger than planned. a little disclaimer, english isn’t my first language and punctuation isn’t my strongest suit. this being the first thing i have ever written probably doesn’t help either. minors DNI]

tags: pinning, alcohol consumption, they make out in a back alley and I’m pretty sure that’s it.

[word count: 6792]

When agreeing to go out for drinks on Halloween with Matty, you didn’t think you’d end up dressed as a bottle of moonshine at 8pm walking around the streets of London waiting for an Uber but here you were.

Matty had called you about 4 hours ago asking you to come spend Halloween with him and the guys at the bar and with the promise of free drinks and seeing the guys dressed up in costumes, you had agreed to go a decision that had led you to scrambling around your apartment trying to put together a last minute Halloween costume.

After about half an hour of searching around your apartment you’d found an old costume in the far back of your closet from when you and your friend group had gone as different liquor types/brands from a couple years ago in your Uni days which you had thrown on in a hurry and to your surprise and relief it still fit you like a glove.

The costume itself was rather simple, a classic yet stunning amber mini dress that complimented your body in all the right ways, a classic denim jacket paired with a pair of cowboy boots and the star of the outfit, the feathered cowboy hat with the moonshine logo on top.

After getting into your Uber and giving the driver the address to The Shiny Collarbone you had texted Matty saying you were on your way to which he had responded with a “don’t know if I’m more excited to see you or what you’re dressed up as, see you soon darling get here safe” which had you a flustered mess.

You’d known Matty and the guys for close to a year now, but you still weren’t used to the flirting and the nicknames. A part of you secretly hoped the flirting meant your feelings were reciprocated, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up just to have them crushed by reality.

As the car turned onto the next street you saw the bright neon sign hanging above the bar at the end of the road, and you started to gather your things.

Once the car came to a stop you thanked the driver and exited the car and went out into the cold October air as you made your way to the entrance you checked your makeup once in your phone before entering.

Once stepping inside you were immediately greeted by the loud and lively atmosphere which brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort. While it wasn’t the busiest you’d seen it be, you wouldn’t consider it a quiet night for them either.

Having been a bar for over 20 years that had once started as just a small hole in the wall bar run by a group of friends had over time become a notorious and sought after spot to visit as well as being popular with the locals, a fact Matty was proud to share on more than one occasion.

As you scan the familiar room you notice George as usual standing by the DJ booth enjoying himself while pushing buttons that he’d shown you how to use many times before but you couldn’t for the life of you comprehend how he managed to make the music he did with them, no matter how many times he’s shown you.

What wasn’t usual about the scene in front of you, was the torn white half buttoned up shirt adoring his body and the messily scribbled word “werewolf” that was written in what was clearly Matty’s handwriting on the front of it, no doubt a last minute costume which you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at.

Looking towards the bar your eyes land on Ross tending to a group of girls by making them shots. Standing in what you believe to be a homemade mummy costume. he was covered in what from a distance appeared to be a mix of toilet paper and even stood from a distance you could see actual bandage gauze.

A part of you wondering where they had managed to get that considering you had seen the absolute state of their first aid kit, and to say they’d be fucked if something happened would be an understatement.

You eyes continue to scan the bar and the surrounding booths for Matty but you can’t seem to spot him and you can’t help but feel a small sense of disappointment even though you know for a fact he’s here.

As you start to make your way over towards your spot at the back of the bar, out walks the curly haired man in question carrying a case of whiskey no doubt to add to the display shelves behind him and Ross but as tempting as it is to stare at his straining biceps carrying the heavy case, your eyes can’t focus on anything besides the black traditional cowboy hat that sits on top of his greying curls and it has you stopping in your tracks and needing to take a moment to fully comprehend the sight of Matty dressed as a cowboy.

Once you managed to take your eyes off the hat you get a chance to notice the rest of his outfit and you debate turning back around for a solid 3 seconds to go outside and process the image In front of you.

In all his glory was Matty stood behind the bar wearing a cut off checkered flannel, the black cowboy hat, a back vest underneath and while not visible to your wandering eyes knowing him he’s definitely wearing his black cowboy boots on his feet to complete the look.

You watch as he starts turning back to most likely shout something to Ross and in that moment you make eye contact with him you watched his eyes widening, his mouth dropping and a small “wow” escaping.

The reaction causing your face to flush and after a couple of seconds you snap yourself out of the daze you found yourself in and resume walking over to your spot as Matty meets you there with a hug, pulling you into his neck which lets you get a whiff of the nice cologne he wore, complimented by a hint of the cigarette he probably just smoked and below that something you can only describe as Matty himself.

The scent had you relaxing in his hold and your shoulders falling causing you to completely melt into the hug. You both savor the feeling of being in each others arms, each one just as blind about each others feelings as the other. He squeezes you tight before he slowly pulls away looking into your eyes with a bright smile on his face.

“Would you look at that darling, it’s almost like this was planned.” With his brows raised, glancing up between your hat and his own causing you to let out a small laugh while lowering yourself into your regular seat and removing your jacket placing it on the chair besides you. An action that gave Matty an opportunity to get a proper look at your dress and he felt his heart skip a beat, to him you were breathtaking all the time, but this dress was something that had his head spinning and his thoughts darkening within seconds.

“Well you told me to come to the bar for drinks but that I wouldn’t be allowed in if i didn’t dress up so I figured this would be an appropriate costume, had no idea about your costume though. I have to say you clean up nice cowboy” which had Matty bashfully lowering his head with a small laugh, praying his hat would help conceal his blushing cheeks from your view.

You were feeling confident tonight, something Matty absolutely adored. He remembers at the start of your friendship when you had just started coming to the bar to hang out with him and the boys, and how shy and flustered you’d always get whenever he’d flirt with you.

But recently you had started to become more bold and Matty simply couldn’t get enough of it. You flirting back at him instead of shying away and in turn making him the flustered one was something he didn’t mind one bit.

If anything it made his feelings for you grow more with the thought of the slight possibility of you liking him back.

“Thank you darling have to say you don’t look too bad yourself, this dress is really doing wonders for you. Can I get you a drink miss moonshine?” The nickname caused the butterflies in your stomach to start to flutter and your smile brightens knowing he understood your costume.

You watched him make his way around back to the other side of the bar, and before you could answer his previous questions he adds

“Afraid we don’t have any actual moonshine though, so you’ll have to make do with something else darling”

with a mock frown now taking place on his features while shooting a quick glance back at your hat his expression quickly changing back into the grin you know and love.

“So what will you be having tonight darling?” He says as his gaze shifts to look back into your eyes, and you can see the amusement and happiness dancing around in his own. The same look no doubt present in your eyes.

“That’s so difficult I’m starting to get used to being spoiled and having you pick my drinks for me since you wont let me continue to order the “same 3 things”, so won’t you just pick something for me again Matty?” You said while giving him your best pout and Matty felt his heart rate pick up slightly.

Truthfully he’d do anything you asked him, but the second you brought out the pout he was close to being on his knees for you. Willing to do whatever you wanted as long as it kept you happy, but he kept his composure and replied with what he hoped to be a casual.

“Yeah because that’s boring! But you’ve liked the past couple I’ve made you try, don’t even try deny it! Except for that small mishap last week that Ross has a video of but you ended up liking it in the end! But I’ll see what I can do alright darling? But you can’t be disappointed once you get it okay? You asked for this.” He replied with a teasing glint now in his eyes and he started making his way around grabbing at the different ingredients for whatever cocktail he decided on making for you.

“Don’t say that! What do you mean he has video evidence? Don’t tell me you caught that on video.” You said with a slight bit of panic lacing your tone.

Last time you’d been at the bar during Matty’s shift, it had been one of the slower shift which in turn meant he had more time to spend with you so he had made you one of his special concoctions that he had been working on and perfecting.

While the aftertaste was lovely the amount of alcohol in it had come as a shock when you had your first sip which caused you to choke a bit. Something he had teased you for relentlessly, after making sure you were okay, the entire duration of his shift. Even after he had made you a new one containing a smaller amount of alcohol (something he had also made fun of.)

“Besides you wouldn’t give me something bad, would you?” You reply with a quick look of concerned, a look that caused Matty to let out a boyish giggle. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of you it.

His laugh was something that never failed to bring a smile to your face whenever you heard it and honestly it might be one of your favorite sounds.

You lean slightly forward on the bartop your head now resting on one of you hands as you watch him slowly pour different types of liquor and syrups into the shaker, and you can’t help but let your eyes once again scan over his outfit and how it cling to his arms as he shook the shaker containing the mystery drink.

A look that doesn’t go unnoticed by Matty which had him raise his eyebrow and smirk, once you made eye contact and realized you had been caught checking him out you bashfully lowered your head blushing and turned your attention to the different labels of the bottles that had been placed in front of you.

When he saw your attention wasn’t on him anymore he couldn’t help but let his own gaze wander a bit. He wasn’t joking when he said the dress was doing wonders for accentuating your features. The way your dress hugged your chest had caused him to go a bit dizzy and his thoughts taking a darker turn and the fact you were now slightly leaning over the bar counter to get a close look at a bottle further away didn’t help his case in the slightest.

Shaking himself out of it, he focuses back on the task at hand of making your drink.

“What kind of professional would I be if I made you a drink I knew you wouldn’t enjoy? That’s how you end up getting no tips darling come on! Besides you really think I’d do that to you? I have a feeling you’ll really like this one actually, might even top the cosmopolitan you tried a couple weeks ago” he says while a look of childlike excitement washed over his face at the idea of you liking the drink he had made you.

Matty knew he was talented at what he did, but to get your approval was like when the teacher gave you a good star as a child.

He leaned down to grab a clean glass from underneath the bar and poured the drink he had made into it and eagerly passed it towards you over the bar to try.

“As if you have any struggles with getting tips Matty, I’ve sat besides you while you’ve counted them after a slow night. I can’t imagine what you must make on a busy day, must have something to do with the hair I imagine” you say while reaching up and tugging at one of his curls, the sudden move had his eyes widening and his whole body stumbling back a bit to try and avoid you gripping on his hair, something he’d had dreamed about you doing but in a completely different setting.

A setting that he should not be thinking about while at work, with you sitting directly in front of him no less.“Oi be nice! Those tips are part of the reason you get to drink for free you know” he says in an attempt to scold you, same way you’d scold a child, while pointing a finger at you to really sell it even though you could see the smile threatening to break out on his face while he tried to maintain the stern expression.

“Might actually want to start being a bit nicer to me darling or I’ll could start charging you” he continued with a smug look.

As he was finishing his sentence an arm got slung over his shoulder which caused him to jump a bit while Ross made his first real appearance of the night.

Making eye contact with you immediately while carrying a mischievous expression, a look you knew very well and you knew it’s about to get good when he gets involved in the conversation by stating.

“If this dickhead starts charging you for drinks you come straight to me, Adam or George and we’ll sort him out, alright love? Don’t let him feed his ego by thinking he can charge you as well” shooting you a wink and patting Matty on the back causing the shorter man to stumble a bit as Ross went to lean on the bartop beside him

“Oi what do you mean ego?!” Matty squeaked out dumbfounded and slightly offended while looking at Ross who was trying his best to hold back his laughter shooting a look towards you, completely ignoring the curly haired man at his side.

“What’s he trying to get you to drink this time then?”

Ross asked as he picked up the drink Matty had made and held it up towards the light to get a proper look at it as if to inspect and no doubt judge it.

“Please tell me he’s not made one of his own concoctions again, god knows the one last time was vile. I don’t know why you keep letting him do this to you love” he continued as he raised the drink to his face to smell it and gave it a small nod of approval before putting in back down on the counter in front of you.

“I’ll have you know she actually liked the one last time Ross! Just needed to tweak the amount of alcohol, and then she enjoyed it! Didn’t you darling?” Both men now with their full attention turned towards you.

Matty with an expectant look and Ross with a look of amusement and his brow raised almost in a challenging way.

You debated on if you should answer truthfully or go along with Ross teasing as a way to rile Matty up, deciding to be nice you went with the truth.

“It was nice, just a bit strong for my taste! The second one you made was much nicer though” you watched as Ross rolled his eyes and Matty lit up with a triumphant look, eager to rub the small victory in Ross’s face

Looking over the shoulders of both men you spotted a gorgeous woman, who you had noticed earlier eyeing up Ross as you walked in, was now making her way up towards the bar and deciding to interrupt before Matty could start gloating you added.

“actually now that you’re here Ross, would you mind making me one of those slushy drinks you do? The ones with the strawberry on the side?”

You watched as Matty’s expression turned from one of pure pride and happiness to a look of horror followed closely by a look of absolute betrayal, Ross on the other hand couldn’t fight off the smug expression and part of you thinks he wasn’t even trying to as you continued.

“You’re the best one at making them by far, and I’ve been dying for one all week.”

Was it a bit mean? Yeah, but you weren’t necessarily lying when you said you’d been craving one all week.

You also couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling of seeing Matty a bit jealous that you had asked Ross to make you your drink instead of him. With a wink and a

“I’ll get right on that love”

Ross walked off to make the requested drink and without knowing walking towards the woman now stood at the bar and you were now faced with Matty who looked like a kicked puppy with the biggest pout adoring his face. And you felt your heart break a little at him going.

“You’ve not even tried the drink I’ve just made you and now you’re sending Ross off to make you new one, and here I thought I was something special to you darling”

the look of jealousy and sadness didn’t get to last long though. “Don’t be silly Matty I only sent him over there because there’s a girl coming up to the bar who’s exactly Ross type, and I’d be a horrible wing-woman if I didn’t get him up there with her” you say while trying to discreetly point out the girl in question to Matty.

And just as you expected she was already in what appeared to be deep conversation and you could tell just from Ross body language that he fancied her as well.

“Ah aren’t you clever darling look at you looking out for our boy, enough about him though your drink will start to get warm soon and I think it’ll ruin the taste ‘cause it’ll turn all watery because of the ice” he said, his emotions doing a complete 180 after realizing you had just tried to set up Ross for a potential date.

He pointed towards the almost completely forgotten drink that was still in front of you both. And you wrap your hand around the glass and raise it in a cheers making Matty bite the inside of his cheek to try and stop the wide grin spreading on his cheeks as you brought the glass to your lips and take a sip, letting the flavors of the mystery cocktail explode on your tastebuds.

Once the glass touched your lips Matty looked like he’s about to jump out of his skin in anticipation of your reaction and thoughts on the drink he made you. He wanted you to enjoy it especially since he made it for you, with you and your preferences in mind.

Over the past months Matty had made it his mission to find out your likes and dislikes and when at the start you had only ordered the same 3 cocktails for months he knew he had to step in to try and get more information and that was how this whole mystery cocktail thing had begun in the first place.

“It’s very sweet but a bit tangy. The flavors all go really nice together, you’re right this was a great choice! This is why I always make you choose my drinks because I really like this! What’s it called so I can make sure you make it for me again sometime?”

And hearing you say you want Him to make it for you again has his heart stuttering and almost bursting out of his chest with pride.

“It’s called a Bramble darling, you like it yeah? I’ll make sure this won’t be your last one then.” Finishing his sentence with a wink.

You fall into a comfortable silence after awhile. Just looking at Matty tending to the bar and its patrons together with Ross who’s managed to get the girls number before having to go back to work as a sudden rush had started.

You always enjoyed watching Matty work, part of the reason you didn’t mind spending so many hours just sitting there and watching. There was something about how graceful he was, the confidence that just radiated from him like this was what he was supposed to be doing. The way he would be able to charm anyone who came his way like it was nothing. it really was no wonder you had fallen for him.

After awhile of just watching the guys mix and pour different drinks for the different people coming up to the bar, you felt your blood run cold and your spine straighten as you noticed a group of girls all practically drooling at him, and the worst part was you couldn’t blame them. You had practically been doing the same thing all night and as much as the thought hurt you, he wasn’t yours, no matter how much you wanted him to be you weren’t together.

The sadistic part of yourself forced you to watch the interaction continue on and you felt your stomach drop when you saw Matty turn his back to the group to grab something, and one of the girls took the time to scribble something (no doubt her number) onto one of the napkins and slide it over towards the spot where Matty would soon return to.

And just like you expected you saw him deliver the drinks to the girls and grab the napkin with a wink and you couldn’t help but feel your heart break just the tiniest bit.

Much to your surprise though, the second the girls were out of sight he tossed the number into one of the trash cans, shaking his head and make his way back towards your corner.

“Sorry darling we got busy for a second, you doing alright? You look a bit red is there anything I can get for you?” He asked concerned while his eyes scanned over your face to make sure you were okay

“I’m okay yeah, I’m just feeling slightly warm it’s probably just the drinks. I’m alright I promise” your words making him nod thoughtfully before he quickly glanced at the clock and going back over to Ross throwing a quick “be back in a second” towards you.

You saw the two talk for a second, Ross now looking at the clock and scan the bar before nodding his head. And watched as Matty made his way back towards you, rounding the corner to get out on your side of the bar.

Grabbing your discarded jacket from the empty seat beside you in one hand and taking your hand in his other.

He started gently tugging you out of your seat and wordlessly lead you outside and around the back of the bar towards the back alleyway. It was only when he stopped by the back door and placed your jacket back over your shoulders and leant back against the wall, you decided to ask why he had taken you both outside to which he responded with a simple shrug saying.

“Well you said you were feeling warm and I was dying for a cigarette haven’t had one in ages so I figured you could join me for my break, hope that’s alright with you darling, if not I can follow you back inside?”

He suddenly looked a bit worried thinking about how he had kinda forced you outside without even asking even though this wasn’t a new thing for you two by any means.

You had lost count at the amount of times you had been out back with him, to keep him company during his breaks. It was such a common occurrence that you hadn’t even questioned him when he dragged you out with him.

“No no that was a good idea, I’m glad you brought me with you. It was getting a bit stuffy in there, so it’s nice to come out here and just chat for you a bit. Besides feels like you’ve been more busy tonight, so getting a few minutes alone with you won’t be something I’ll complain about”

You watched as Matty lit up his cigarette, grey smoke clouding around him and in the dim light of the alley creating an almost halo effect around him and you can’t help but just stare up at him. The dim light sculpting his face and casting shadows that accentuated his strong jaw and full lips and you couldn’t stop the racing thoughts of what it would be like to feel them moving against your own.

What you didn’t know was that Matty was in the complete same boat as you, completely transfixed on your face in the dim lighting as well and how it the shadows danced around on your face and his arms twitched by his side as he fought to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into him.

After a while of just standing in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Matty takes the last drag of his cigarette and stubs the bud out and throws it in the nearby trash can and as he looks back at you he can’t help but notice the slight shivering you’re attempting (and failing) at hiding and he slightly curses himself for not having brought his own jacket with him out to give to you.

“Are you cold darling? We can go back inside if you want?” You snap out of your daze and immediately rush out

“No I’m okay! Completely okay! Can we stay for just a little bit more? If that’s alright?”

And who is he to deny you? With a nod and a small “come here” he pulls you into him to try and combat the cold October air.

A move he really should have thought through because now, you’re both standing up against one another and he can feel your body pressed against him.

Even though you’re shivering he can now feel the heat from your body against his and the smell of your perfume has him briefly closing his eyes and just taking in the moment.

You watch his eyes close and reopen and for a moment you just stand there staring at up at him and you can’t help yourself from glancing down at his full lips again. The thought of them pressed against your own once more plaguing your mind.

Matty watched your eyes drop to his lips like he thought he had imagined you doing earlier but he had convinced himself that he had just imagined it but seeing you do it again now from a much closer angle there wasn’t a doubt in his mind at what he had saw earlier was real and suddenly he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down towards you and carefully planting his lips on yours.

You froze for a solid 3 seconds before it hit you that Matty was in fact kissing you. He felt your body freeze and panic and regret shot through his body like he had just been dumped in a tub of ice thinking he might have misread the situation and possibly ruined everything with you.

As you felt him still and start to move back, no doubt with an apology at the tip of his tongue you quickly throw your arms around his neck, plant one of your hands in his dark curls and pull him back towards you and kiss him back with all the months of built up tension.

You pour every once of emotion into the kiss, hoping to convey your emotions and let yourself get lost in the feel of his lips against yours, the way his curls felt under your palm and the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against yours.

At the feeling of your hand in his hair, pulling him closer and the feeling of you kissing him back, Matty loses the last bit of hesitation and let’s his hand pull at your waist, pulling you so your bodies are tightly pressed together and kisses you back with just as much effort.

The feeling of both of your bodies pressed together has both of your heads spinning and getting completely lost in each other you don’t break the kiss until you both have to pull back to breathe. The break doesn’t last long and you both snap back towards each other like magnets, once again getting lost in the feeling of your lips molding together.

The back door slamming open is what ultimately has you both pulling apart with a gasp and you both snap your heads towards it, looking for the culprit who had interrupted your moment and in the doorway in all his glory stood a smug looking George Daniel with a smirk on his face.

“Sorry to break it up love birds but Ross needs you to come back in Matty. As always it’s lovely to see you sweetheart, loving the costume by the way very on brand.”

You watch the look of annoyance wash over Matty and he shakes his head at George going

“Alright, okay, tell Ross I’ll be back inside in a moment alright?”

You can hear the annoyance clear in his tone and George shoots you a wink and waves at Matty before going back in, no doubt to continue to work behind the DJ booth for the rest of the night.

You look back at Matty to find his eyes already watching you closely and you find yourself growing shy.

You find yourself looking down not being able to maintain eye contact, but you feel his fingers wrapping around your chin and tilting your head up to look at him as he takes a slow breath before quietly admitting

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months darling. I understand if this was just a spur of the moment thing, but in case you do feel the same my shift should be ending soon and I’d love to take you back to mine to watch a movie or something” and you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips

“I’d really like that Matty” You say earnestly while looking up into his eyes before you confess with a cheeky “you have to promise me you’ll do that again though, because I’m not sure I can continue with just us being friends after that.”

Hearing you say that has a look of relief washing over him, the happiness practically radiates from Matty as he pulls you back in for another quick kiss before promising

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months, if you think I’ll be able to hold myself back you’re sorely mistaken darling.”

Once again leaving you a flustered mess which leaves him feeling proud before he continuing “I’ll kiss you as much as you want darling, as long as you promise to be mine yeah?”

You nod your head at that and you can’t help the way your heart nearly bursts out of your chest with happiness, so much so that you can’t even form any words but just start nodding your head yes again and bring him back down for another kiss.

Locking your lips together and you immediately feel like two puzzle pieces slotting into place and a sense of home washes over you both. The feeling so natural to the both of you and it made you feel like an idiot for never doing it sooner.

You pull away when you both are out of breath and he lowers his head to rest his forehead against yours. You both just enjoy the last couple of seconds before you pull to leave his embrace and tug at his arm as a way to pull him back inside giggling at each other like little kids.

Once inside you make eye contact with Ross who gives you a smug knowing look and from that alone you know George has already told him what he saw in the back alley and you hear Matty let out a tiny groan that lets you know he too has caught on to what’s happened.

Rushing you in the other direction away from the inevitable bullying from Ross and you both make your way back to your still empty corner. As you sit back down in your chair Matty preoccupies himself with making you another drink and you can’t help but just stare up at him with a lovestruck look in your eyes a feeling of disbelief still present at the fact he actually feels the same towards you.

The sound a texts messages frantically coming in shakes you from your little bubble and you watch Matty remove his phone from his pocket and let out a loud groan while throwing his head back towards the ceiling, the action has you raising your eyebrow in a silent question once your eyes find each other again.

“George’s already told the entire group chat about what happened in the alley.” He says with a groan and your eyes quickly look over at the giant who’s currently on his phone with a large grin on his face and just from that look alone you know he’s still catching everyone up on the new development between you and Matty

“Hann has already messaged me 4 times, I swear they really can’t keep their mouths shut sometimes” he says letting out an annoyed huff.

The mention of Adam has you straightening up a bit and with a quick glance around you turn back towards Matty

“Oh speaking of! How come Adam isn’t working tonight? I’ve seen both Ross and George but usually Adam is here to keep track of you lot?” you ask with curiosity.

Eyes flickering towards Ross who in the meantime has made his way over to George and as if they can feel your eyes on them they both look up towards you and Matty and shoot you a wink when making eye contact.

You roll your eyes with a small smile and shifts your focus back to Matty who now has a small frown on his face again as he looks at you.

“Why do you care about him when I’m here? Am I not keeping you entertained darling?” He asked with his now furrowed eyebrows raised, a flash of what you think is jealousy appears in his eyes for a split second as if you didn’t just kiss multiple times in the last 10 minutes in the back alley.

You watch as he crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to look nonchalant and your attention briefly shifts to his arms again looking at the how the cut off flannel helped accentuate them and in turn making your head spin for a couple of seconds before you register the huff that leaves him while he stands before you and you quickly sit up to answer his question with a teasing

“Was that a bit of jealousy i sensed there Matty? I was simply wondering where he was. Wouldn’t say I was bored of you considering what just happened outside babe” you say looking up at him through your lashes to try and catch him a bit off guard and warm him back up a bit and it’s safe to say it worked.

He freezes for a couple seconds and his mind reels a bit at you calling him babe before the rest of the sentence registers in his mind and he lets out a scoffs “Me? Jealous of Hann? Didn’t realize you’d gone ahead and become a comedian overnight. Absolutely not jealous darling don’t know what makes you think that.” Which does nothing but confirm your suspicion of the claim of him being jealous.

A fact that had your stomach fluttering at the prospect of him being jealous.

You don’t get to enjoy the thought for too long, before he starts up again.

“Nah he and Carly were taking Baby Hann trick or treating tonight, so he’s off for the night to be with them” he says with a smile on his face thinking of his best friend and his family going around trick or treating, as much as he liked to make fun of him for being boring he couldn’t help but be proud of how great of a father Adam truly was.

“Oh I miss Carly I hope she’s doing alright, I haven’t seen her in so long! That’s adorable, I’ll have to ask how it went the next time I see him, will you please make sure I remember next time he’s here Matty? I’d hate to not hear about their first time trick or treating”

As Matty listened to you talk about his friends, the people who he considered his family, with such genuine interest and excitement he couldn’t help the wide grin that blooms on his face.

As he goes to assure you he will, a hand gets slapped on his back causing him to nearly jump out of his skin and with a hand over his heart he turned back to see who had disturbed their conversation only to reveal none other than John coming in to say hello and take over the rest of his shift like they had planned the previous day.

“Fuck man you scared the shit out of me, you can’t just sneak up on me like that Waughy” he fake pouts and you watch as the two men chat for a quick second before John shoots you a smile and a wave and walks towards the back to no doubt clock in and prepare for the night ahead.

“Do you still want to come back round mine to watch that movie darling? I figured we could make it proper romantic, maybe even build a fort like you’ve mentioned last time we had a movie night? Could do with a cuddle from you after working all night and I believe we have a lot of time to make up for” He ends with a smirk that has your stomach in knots and you eagerly nod your head.

The sound of cuddling with Matty in a fort while a movie plays in the background and now with the added bonus of getting to kiss him whenever you want, has you gathering your things and jumping down from you chair as you look into his eye and respond with a shy

“I’d really like that Matty”

“Alright darling let’s go home.”

[someonechaotic]

I done heh

I done did the simoji challenge by @folkbreeze because I see interesting challenge I do it and I got

So for some reason I saw these emoji and my dumb brain instantly thought of a toxic banana girlie and a grumpy apple boyo so I uh I did that

im pretty sure I needed to do only one sim but I got some other emoji randomised and I wanna do more and what the fuck this is so much fun

Heres babama ladiy Hannah of course I made her clumsy why wouldn't I, I wanted to give her a cowboy hat but I feel like she looks t9o much like Applejack from my little pony if I did that so she's hatless

Her traits with my absolutely perfect quality yep, very good very good not taken on my phone at all haha (god I fucking wish my Internet would one day work)

And here's plant loord abple bouy Axel aha Notice how their names sound a lot like their fruit counterpart heh I did thar on purpius so cool rite he's a silly gardener guy and did I call him the silly gardener guy ph no I'm getting fixated on these two I can tell

my quality being as good as my spelling part 372

I got a praying mantis on mi knee

Oh oh oh ho and and I'm gonna put these two in the world I've been building yes somehow my adhd has kept to this project but I still haven't finished oasis falls instead I jumped to Moonwood Mill to move in my Vampire-Werewolf hybrid boy and add some lore heh and then to Forgotten Mill where his father who is a werewolf resides this is all very confusing and it kinda sounds silly but I'm happy

But this does mean that you may also get a house based off these two (and the emojis of course)

Holy SHIT this is fun holy piss I wanna do even more sims with emojis

[banditcoyote]

Wrangled and Tangled

Sasuga stood by the sink washing the last of the dishes from tonights meal. She smiled softly to herself as her tail flicked behind her, happy about the sets of cups and plates she had picked out, feeling domesticated and settled looking over the two sets of dishes her and her lover had shared, something about them in the drying rack felt almost romantic to her. But maybe it was just the way the sunset was showing so pink and purple over the water that was making her feel that way, the cool summer breeze blowing in from the open Lanai. She hummed to herself a little as she dried her hand and reached for the first plate, ready to dry them herself, when the dish cloth was plucked out of her hands swiftly.

“Let me take care of that.” Simon said perching himself onto the counter and starting to dry one of their plates.

“All the left overs put away?” she asked leaning against the counters and bringing her wine to her lips.

“Most of them.” he said with a nod. “Except for the second helping I couldn’t resist, which is now residing in my stomach.”  

She laughed lightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a nod, moving to cozy up to him just a little bit, her eyes full of warmth, and maybe a bit of mischief. “Maybe we can enjoy some other things when you’re done putting those dishes away.” She said with a curl to her lips.

Simon returned the smile and took a moment to lean down to kiss her easily, drawing back with a little hum. “I can think of some things for sure.” He added. “But before we get too distracted.” He placed the clean plate down on the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box and placing it on the counter next to her hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Sasuga froze at the sight of the small velvet box and her large eyes went wide, slowly looking up into Simon’s face, searching for the meaning.

Simon at once realizing what she might have thought smiled and blushed. “I know we’ve talked about it, but this is just a promise ring.”  Sasuga let go of the breath she was holding with some relief. He picked the box up and opened it. “See?” inside was a thing gold band with a small rose quartz crystal cut into the shape of a heart that side horizontal to the finger. He reached for her left hand and slid it on to her ring finger kissing it into place. “I love you Sasuga, I know that this might not be perfect, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Sasuga looked to the ring on her finger, feeling tears pull at the corner of her eyes. He hopped down from the counter “Oh no….is it too much? I know we said we weren’t going to do anything, that dinner was enough but-“

She shook her head “Don’t be stupid.” She said choking back her emotions. “I love it. I love you….Thank you.” She looked at the ring again before reaching up to tug on one of his horns pulling him down into a kiss. “Forget the dishes….come on.” She said, her tail already snaking up around his waist to guide him toward their bedroom.

Coyote woke up with a start, staring up into the dark ceiling above him. He contemplated for a moment what that dream could have meant, and his jaw tightened in his face. Did Sasuga sleep with Simon while he was away, it was the only rule he had given. Or maybe that had made the whole thing more enticing for the two of them. Still, why would Sasuga end up with Simon, he had the feeling he was absent, that house not looking familiar to him in the slightest. He closed his eyes again, almost willing it to come back to him, but some of the finer details were already fading from his memory, and all he remembered was the way the pair looked longingly at each other before they kissed. He gave a little growl and pushed himself up quickly to throw on some jeans and a shirt.

“Coyote?” Shishi asked lifting his head from where he was curled up on one of the pillows. “Where are you going?” he asked rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“I’m heading back to the Makai” he told Shishi as he pulled his shirt down over his torso.

The imp eyed the view appreciatively before his senses snapped back to him. “Should I be worried?” he asked knowing of Coyote’s sometimes prophetic dreams, and he wondered if he had some type of vision of Sasuga’s fights. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Coyote shook his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that it’s….” only he wasn’t entirely sure he could begin to really understand it himself. He shook his head “Sasuga’s fine. I just need to see her. I only had that one other show at the end of the week anyway, stay here, I’ll go tell Russell to pack everything up and head on home. You’ll be fine finding a flight right? I mean, stay the night, don’t leave on my account.”

Shishi laughed “Oh it was that kind of dream was it?” he grinned. “Okay, Well, tell her I said hello and get back safely.” He said as he yawned and laid back down to sleep. “I’m sure Kurama and Gatlin will be happy to have me home, if they haven’t torn each other apart yet…”

Coyote slapped on his cowboy hat and grabbed a jacket though he felt his skin burning. “And you remember what we said about this right?” he asked as he headed toward the door.

“My lips are sealed.” Shishi murmured. “Not a word to anyone”

“Especially to Sasuga.” He confirmed hand on the door.

“Especially Sasuga.” Shishi promised “She’d probably be more upset with me than you anyway” and waved him off.

Coyote found himself easily at his ring manager’s trailer, pounding on the door. He felt bad to be waking Russell up like this but he knew he couldn’t just disappear in the middle of the night and leave Shishi to explain for  him, things looked weird enough having him around. Russell answered the door, looking as if he was still blinking back sleep. “Coyote, everything alright?” he asked looking around.

“No…Um no, there was a fire back at the ranch.” He said lying on his feet. Thinking easily of the fire at Thom’s he could use as a cover even if the time line wouldn’t match up. He figured it would never get back to Russell anyways. The manager looked concerned. “It’s nothing big, a small one thank god, no one hurt, but I really should get out there, I know we only have the exhibit at the end of the week so I was just going to head home now. Would that be too much of a pain for ya’ll to handle?”

Russell cleared the sleep from his eyes with his hand “Yeah, yeah I can handle it no problem. Take care, hope it’s as small as you say.” He said and headed back to his bed.

Coyote made one more stop, saying farewell to Poncho in his trailer, before he headed towards the nearest portal in the woods, which was still pretty far, and Coyote had to be careful no one saw him as he slipped into the woods and transformed, having to sprint as fast as he could to reach the portal before daylight. He was glad he had the foresight to try and keep his motorcycle as close to him as possible, as the only other way he could have gotten there was to fly back home and then race to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being on a plane the way he was feeling.  All cooped up without being able to run or move, or do anything. It would have been torture, not like the past few weeks hadn’t been. The time away from Sasuga had been harder than he’d like to admit, and he already knew he would never plan on being away from her like this again. All the time away from her he had felt like pulling his skin off. He had helped Thom around her house before he left, and at the rodeo he did more of the manual work than anyone really wanted him to. He ran Poncho as often as he felt he could without causing the poor animal too much strain, and then would run laps as fast as he could as long as he could well into the night. But it was never enough, the women that tried to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the rodeo corral still enticed him to the point he had to nearly run back to his RV. All that hair, perfume, and how the hell where they making such good bras now adays? Though he was sure that some of breasts out there weren’t only held up by a bra but maybe some type of surgery, that didn’t sway him away any. Then the fact that in some of the more populous areas there were actual demon women in the crowds, and those he really had to avoid. He was sure they’d sense something about him, and he was doing his best to be incognito. Luckily his prior years of fooling around with plenty of the women at these things rarely had any of his crew spotting him being social, so now that he was hiding out on his own it went unnoticed. Coyote tried to run himself ragged, exercise, the rodeo, his variety of plants and a few sex toys paired unironically with the body pillow he had snuck on board, none of it had done the exact trick. Which had then led him to call Shishi. It had been a long shot, but it didn’t take much convincing getting him to come out to see him in secret, even if he was a bit miffed at having to mostly stay hidden at the events. Coyote let him have the pass into where the wives or girlfriend’s normally sat, and he posed in his refinery during the events when it fancied him. It had helped tire him out, but he still hadn’t been getting enoug

He thought he could remain out here for the full month, and they had gotten so close, it was almost silly to run now. But after the dream with her and Simon he just couldn’t deny the ache he felt for his mate any longer and he had to find his way back to her. Dawn was just about to break as he reached the portal and he wasted no time heading through it and heading towards where he had hidden his bike. He felt like a dog that had gotten a scent, and he wasn’t going to rest until he got to her. **** Four days later still hours from dawn, Coyote stashed the bike behind the hotel, barely taking care to hide it, and stumbled into the lobby. He had all the faith in the world that Sasuga was still in the tournament, and held the most hope that meant she was still in the hotel room that he had the key stashed for. He limped into the lobby where the clerk paled at the site of him. “Sir….” He said rushing around the desk and towards him. “Do you need a medic?” he asked looking him over.

Coyote didn’t waste the energy to speak to him and only shook his head as he stumbled forward before catching his balance again. He knew what he looked like, but wasn’t stopped as it was clear the clerk in his pristine uniform was afraid to touch him at all.

“Is there someone I can call?” he said walking along side him as Coyote shuffled to the elevator, bracing himself against the lobby wall and causing a smear of blood to press into the wall paper.

Coyote considered it for a moment, but shook his head again. If Sasuga was still in the tournament this late in the game there was a chance she was injured as well, and he wanted her to save her strength for fighting. He’d be okay. He just needed a shower, some stitches, and her.

The clerk did not follow him into the elevator, being the main hotel for the tournament he was surely not the only injured guest they received, and he retreated back to their desk, probably to call for maintenance to clean up whatever other mess Coyote had left behind him. He leaned against the wall as it started it’s ascension toward the upper floors, again leaving a smear of dirt and blood where his shoulder braced himself. A few droplets of blood dripping from somewhere onto the floor. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach it’s destination, the doors pausing once as a couple was about to get on, but after seeing him let him go on without a question. Coyote almost passed out, unsure if it was from blood loss or exhaustion, but the dinging and wooshing of the doors riled him, and he staggered out into the hallway. Knowing he was so close to Sasuga spurred him on, and he was relieved to find that the card key still worked. He let himself into the hotel room, finding it dark and quiet and he did his best to move with stealth into the bathroom. He passed the bed and spotted Sasuga sleeping peacefully by herself, he was grateful for this because with the rage that was still somewhat in his veins if he had found Simon with her he might have taken a regrettable action. In that moment iat took everything in him to not simply cover her with himself, though with how dirty he was he knew it would only concern her more. There was blood in his mouth and under his fingernails, matting his hair down and sticking to his hat. Better to clean himself up first, and he shut the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light.

He did his best not to look at himself in the mirror, but finding it a necessity to assess some of the damage. If he had made it this far like this it couldn’t have been too bad. Still he was in rough shape. Not only was his face cut, bruised, and swollen, but he had also lost enough weight that he appeared gaunt under the torn and dirty clothes he wore. He slowly undressed, assessing each wound, fresh bruises forming on top of old ones, some cuts that were still bleeding every time he moved, gashes that would no doubt need to be closed up. He hissed as some of the clothing stuck to him where blood had dried, let his effects fall to the floor, his gun empty and tucked back in his holster, and stepped into the shower letting the water strike at his feet until it was warm enough to step into. He braced himself against the wall, letting it flow over his hair and down his back, feeling the sense of relief start to fill him as well. He had made it, he was close to resting, and he was close to his mate, that was all he could ask for right now.

[loversandantiheroes]

Okay my whiskey fantasy. It’s a holiday, anniversary, I dunno. But he comes home. You’re in lingerie, teddy, the garter belt, the thigh high tights (I am having an absolute brain fart and can not remember the name), the high heels. you’re cooking him dinner in it. Somethin real texas for dinner. He wants to immediately fuck yiu, BUT NO he has to WAIT bc its dinner time and you worked hard. He’s waiting, and he’s watching you, you’re bending over at the stove, all that. Dinner is served, you —-

You lounge on the table to eat like a decadent and gorgeous pain in the ass, so he can see you’re whole body while he eats, forced to be patient. You’re being an absolute menace. He’s running his mouth the whole time OBVIOUSLY. Then he fucking wrecks you

No Candles Necessary

As I am a bonafide yeehonk foole (and I have the t-shirt to prove it), I could hardly resist this idea. Nonny, I hope like hell I did you proud.💗

Shameless Whiskey/F!Reader smut (18+ and yes that means you), 5.3k+ words (they just wouldn’t shut up), mildly beta’d and lightly edited.

Warnings: established relationship, unsafe food preparation practices, light foodplay (it only goes in appropriate places I swear), egregious dirty talk, improper use of a dining table, Switch!Whiskey returns, Switch!Reader by extension, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, PIV sex, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I fictionalize), cream pie (bc I’m lazy quite frankly), actual pie (peach!), a little soft schmoop in between the smut just because I can.

Permatag: @missredherring​ @dovesnroses​ @astroboots​ @magpierhymes​ @alienprincesspoop​ @aasimarr​ @maythxthirstbxwithyou​ @recklesswit​

Pedro Permatag: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ (sorry bab, more yeehonk) @corvueros​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @littleferal​ @krissology​ @frannyzooey​ @forallthstarsinthesky​ @princess76179​ @keeper0fthestars​ @venusandromedadjarin​

Cooking your boyfriend a birthday dinner in lingerie is probably not the best idea you've ever had. The man isn’t even home yet to witness the trouble you’ve gone to, still wrapping up a day’s work at HQ after closing out another mission. So you didn’t jump right into cooking in your frillies. No, you did the bulk of the work in sweats and a t-shirt, only stopping to change once you were down to the last stretch and the steaks had come off to rest. You've got sense enough at least to put on an apron, not wanting to risk getting hot grease on the delicate fabric or the vast amounts of bare skin the thing doesn't cover, and while you've already donned the garter belt and stockings you've left your heels up against the island counter so you can slip them on quickly when you hear the door. Still you can't quite help but feel less sexy and more silly as you stand there carving up a pair of garlic butter basted steaks while your forehead prickles with sweat and your ass, covered by neither the teddy or the apron, feels ice cold.

The things I do for love of a goddamn cowboy, you think with a shake of your head. Your whole plan is honestly on the high end of ridiculous. But then Jack is a ridiculous man, and he always seems to drag you headlong into absurdity with him. Some days it's his only saving grace - the boyish playfulness that tempers his arrogance into something charming rather than infuriating. It seems only right to be a little ridiculous for the occasion.

Once the carving’s done you give yourself a second to go over the spread and make sure everything's ready to go. It's early yet, but you're expecting to hear Jack's key in the front door any minute. He's made no mention of returning home early, of course, but he is every bit the sort that would try to surprise you on his birthday, and you’ve developed an uncanny ability to anticipate his moves ahead of time.

As it turns out, you have just enough time to slip on your heels before you hear the front door open and Jack calls out your name. You allow yourself a moment of satisfaction - you do love being right when it comes to this sort of thing - and slip into your heels.

“In here, baby,” you call back, stepping out to lean against the door frame.

“Somethin’ smells like heaven,” Jack says, rounding the corner into the dining room. He stops dead when he gets a look at you, mouth falling open in surprise. He’s hung his hat at the door, his hair already flopping over in a revolt against the slicked-back way he styles it in the morning, his suit jacket still on and buttoned. “Looks like it, too,” he finishes, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “I feel overdressed all of a sudden.”

You can’t help but answer that grin. “Happy birthday, cowboy,” you tell him, beckoning him over.

He all but rushes across the room to slide up against you, hands curling around your hips and playing with the tie to the apron. “Sure as hell is now,” he mutters. His palms slide down, cupping your ass to pull you in close. You bite back a hiss at the warmth, and he gives a low approving hum at the expanse of cool, bare skin. “Looks like I don’t even need to unwrap my present.”

“Patience,” you insist, pushing his shoulders back and grazing your lips over the tip of his nose as you evade the kiss he tries to pull you into. “No dessert until after dinner.”

“Dinner can wait-”

“No it cannot. I did not just spend the afternoon trying to keep hot butter off my tits so you could get impatient and let your supper get cold.” He traces a finger across your cleavage as you talk, tugging at the top of the apron to get a better look at the skin underneath. You feel the quip coming before he even opens his mouth, so you take the opportunity to give him a little push and show him just what he’s in for tonight. You bring up your hand, fingers curling under his wrist, turning his hand away and using it to pull him flush to you, the line of your thigh landing against the covered denim crotch of his jeans with just enough force to make him jolt.

“Be a good boy, Jack,” you say against his open, breathless mouth, “or you won’t get any dessert at all.”

Whiskey pouts, but his eyes have that dark glint that says he knows he’s in for trouble and he is just as pleased as punch about it. “You mean to torture a man on his birthday, honeybee?”

The smirk you give him makes his heartbeat kick up a little faster - you can feel the quickening of it in the pulse point against your fingertips. “Absolutely.” You stretch up enough for one brief, warm kiss and then step back, jerking your chin towards the dining table where there’s already two glasses of wine poured at the ready. “Sit. I’ll bring out dinner.”

He nods, tongue rolling slowly against his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”

His gaze is a heavy weight on your body as you walk away, raking down across so much exposed skin. You hear him groan at the sight, low and appreciative. He’s always been fond of seeing you wrapped up in lingerie, even more fond of tearing up the expensive scraps just to get you bare for him. You’d chided him about it the first time - the bodysuit he’d ripped clean in half from gusset to tit hadn’t been cheap, even though that little display had thrilled you far more than you’d ever want to admit - but he always replaced what he ruined without fail.

When you come back, divested of the apron with plates in hand, Whiskey is sitting just as instructed, elbow on the table, chin resting on his knuckles. He tracks every move you make, every sway of your hips, a playful smile hiding the effort of his restraint as you set his dinner in front of him. He barely spares the food a glance when you elect to forego your own chair and simply hop up onto the table, setting your plate near his and dragging over your glass of wine.

“You’ve outdone yourself, honeybee,” Whiskey rumbles, sliding a hand up your knee to your thigh, and he could not be talking less about the food.

You only smile, taking an unhurried sip. “Somehow I thought you’d prefer this to a new tie. How old are you now, anyway?” you tease.

“Sweet sixteen,” he says dryly, hiking an eyebrow while he squeezes your thigh for your cheek.

You chuckle. “Uh-huh, and I’m Mother Theresa.” You lean in, spearing a slice of steak on his plate with your fork and holding it out for him. “Now, I worked very hard on this, and I am going to be very disappointed if you try to skip dinner on me just ‘cause you can’t quit eyeballing your dessert. Open.”

He tips you a wink before dutifully opening his mouth, letting you feed him. The soft, indulgent moan that leaves him as his eyes slip closed is too subdued to be anything but real. “Honeybee that is gorgeous. My compliments to the chef.” 

“The chef is glad to hear it.” You swipe your thumb over his lip, collecting the sheen of juice and garlicky butter and bringing it to your own mouth, delicately sucking it off. “Could’ve used a bit more rosemary.”

Whiskey shakes his head. “Mm-mm. This is perfection on a plate, baby. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The smile that earns him is genuine, and you bend to give him a quick kiss. He presses it, just a little, a swipe of his tongue that you open for just enough to nip at before pulling away. “Eat.” You gesture meaningfully at his plate.

All told, there isn’t actually much on it. Steak, roasted new potatoes, and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. You’ve only served up maybe half of what you’d usually set in front of him for dinner, opting for more reserved portions. It’s a favor to you both - his patience wouldn’t last through a full meal without the need for physical restraints. There’s more in the kitchen, of course, and an actual pie for dessert if you happen to get that far. You’re both bound to be hungry again after.

Whiskey tucks in, fork in his left hand while his right stays comfortably curled around your thigh, slowly creeping higher and higher until he’s playing with the lacy top of your stocking. You give him a warning tilt of your head, your own fork poised halfway to your mouth. All you get in return is those plaintive, innocent puppy dog eyes of his, but his hand doesn’t advance further.

All in all you’re rather proud of his restraint, at least until one spear of asparagus manages to drip hollandaise down onto your cleavage. Suddenly that quietly repressed hunger cracks and he’s surging up towards you, mouth half-open and tongue peaking out, ready to clean you up.

But that won’t do. Not yet. Your reflexes might not be as good as his, but they’re nothing to balk at, either. You brace yourself back on one hand, leaning away and planting one of your high heels against his shoulder to shove him back into his seat. The look on his face is priceless; mouth agape and pupils blown. 

Slowly you shake your head. “You know better, Jack.”

His eyes track up the inside of your thigh to the crotch of your bodysuit - or rather, the lack thereof - and the split strips of lace that don’t cover your mound, but frame it prettily for him. “Fuck, honeybee,” he mutters breathlessly. 

Dinner and a show was always the plan. So you take your time, dipping your finger and swiping up the stripe of creamy yellow and holding it out to him. Whiskey stares you down as he takes the tip of your finger into his mouth and sucks dutifully, his tongue plush and soft and working against the pad of your finger the same way he worries it over your clit. A rush of heat rockets through you, leaving your belly warm and a sweet tingle tripping down your spine in its wake.

Biting your lip hard to rein in the impulse to just slide into his lap, you drag your finger out of his mouth. It’s what he wants; to make you break first, to make you lose at your own game. And where’s the fun in that?

“It is your birthday, so I’m going to cut you a little bit of slack, but if you can’t mind your manners and do as you’re fucking told, you’re gonna get a lot worse than a birthday spanking, pretty boy. Now, I told you: no dessert until you finish your dinner.” There’s precious little left on his plate; a few scraps of steak, a couple potatoes, one lone spear of asparagus. You stab this last with your fork and hold it out to him. “Last chance, baby. You open your mouth for me and be a good boy, and you can have me any way you want.”

Whiskey looks dazed; seething and starved and love-struck all at once. You don’t even need to look down to know he’s hard. But he hesitates just for a moment, whether it’s deliberate or accidental you’re not really sure - sometimes the man just really wants to be punished - but in that space you see his body jerk, hunching slightly as his abdominal muscles contract involuntarily. You follow the movement with your eyes and sure enough, there he is. Full mast and straining hard against thick denim.

Smiling sweetly, you wave the fork at him. “Your choice, Jack.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, and the roughshod timbre of his voice says it’d be a fine way to go.

Whiskey opens his mouth and takes what you give him.

You’re slow about it. Careful. Admonishing him when he tries to chew a little too quickly. Whiskey stares you down with eyes like coal seconds away from ignition. He holds your gaze while you slip another bite of food into his mouth, then lets his eyes slip down until they fix firmly on your half-exposed and already glistening cunt, and you know the moment you give him an inch he’s going to wreck the hell out of you for this.

When the last bite passes his lips he curls his hand around your ankle, squeezing. Always pushing his luck, this man of yours. You set his plate aside, glancing away like it’s no effort at all as he very methodically wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“Now can I have my dessert?” Impatience roughens the low gravel of his voice into something dangerously sharp.

You smile, leaning back on one hand. “There’s peach pie in the kitchen.”

He presses forward, left hand sliding big and warm up the inside of your thigh. The motion presses the leg you’ve used to pin him to his chair back until your knee is nearly flush with your chest, opening you up wider, the rush of air between your legs now shockingly cold against the wetness that had gathered there.

“Woman, the only pie I want a piece of is the one sitting right in front of me.”

The stretch along the back of your thigh burns, so you shift, hooking your leg over his shoulder instead. “I haven’t finished my dinner yet,” you protest cooly, reaching down to snag a strip of steak off your still half-full plate and popping it into your mouth.

Whiskey’s hands slip higher, and this time you don’t stop him, too busy sucking the buttery juices off your fingers. When the very very tips of his fingers brush the spread lace at the crux of your thighs he freezes, waiting for the rebuke, for fingers around his neck or your other heel to plant square in his chest. You consider it, sure; it’s certainly not a prospect without its merits. A man that enjoys being under your thumb is satisfying in a way that few things in life ever fully measure up to.

But honestly, you’ve worked hard enough tonight. Time to let him put in a little effort.

A tilt of your head and a curl of your foot against his shoulder is permission enough; slipping off the leash by way of a gesture, and the low smolder in his eyes blooms to a full burn. Whiskey stands to his full height, looming close enough for you to feel the heat bake off him as he shrugs off his jacket and unbuttons the cuffs on his dress shirt, rolling them up with a few quick turns of his wrists.

“Can’t let my girl go hungry now,” he hums in a voice like burnt molasses. “Lemme give you a hand there, honeybee.”

Smirking, Whiskey wraps an arm around you, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as you wriggle against solid heat of his body. His left hand wanders out of sight on the table as his lips meet yours, teasing your mouth open with the barest brush of his tongue, while his right hand trails warm and slow around your side and down and down to cup your mound.

It’s hard to believe you ever felt cold. You’re burning up now, skin flushed hot as his mouth grazes yours and breathes out: “Open up for me.”

And just like magic, you do. No input needed on your behalf; your mouth simply drops open and your legs shift wider in accommodation for him. There’s a clink of silverware and then he’s waving a fork at you, a strip of steak speared on the end. Whiskey’s eyes glitter as he pushes it into your waiting mouth. Each bite he feeds you is accompanied by a teasing dip of his fingers into your core, feeding you with his left hand while he touches you with his right. Your slickened folds part smooth and easy as he pushes his fingers inside you, a welcome but all too brief intrusion, before they trail up again to stroke at your clit. Again and again you rock your hips up, trying to encourage him to slip into you deeper, to give you a taste of the fullness and pressure of his cock, but every time his touch retreats.

You whine; a strange mix of frustration and pleasure. “Tease.”

“Takes one to know one,” he coos, the hand between your legs working faster. Heat builds quickly under his fingertips, a friction far more appetizing than anything else you’ve set on the table tonight. “You made the rules, honeybee. No dessert until after you finish supper. You do want your dessert, don’t you?”

He brings the next bite up, holds it tantalizingly close. You stretch out and he draws it back, and suddenly his fingers are rubbing a firm, determined circle on your clit. Your whole body jolts, gasping air with a pitiful little whine. There’s nothing but mischief on his face as he watches you, tongue sweeping against his bottom lip. He slows his fingers, brings the fork down again, closer this time. The food brushes your bottom lip before he pulls it away, fingers quickening again.

“Jesus,” you all but squeak. “Jack, don’t be mean.”

Whiskey gives you a considering hum, leaning forward to suck the sheen of butter off your bottom lip. “Oh darlin’ I would never,” he insists, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss that’s tender enough to be very nearly sincere if it weren’t for the fact that the motion of his hand never slows. A sweet, bright heat begins to build under his fingertips. “How could I be mean to my girl when she worked so hard for me, hm? I’m just paying that back in kind is all. You wanna come on my fingers, baby, you can do that all you like. I’ll make you come ‘til those pretty little legs can’t do much more than shimmy. You know I can. But you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ else until you clean your plate like a good girl.”

“H-ha-ah, fuck-how much more?”

He grins devilishly. “Just this last bite.”

“Oh you f-fucking jackass!”

Whiskey laughs. “Guilty as charged. Open up, baby, take what I got for you.”

He pushes the last bite past your lips and immediately delves his fingers into your warm and waiting cunt. The breath shudders out of you, fingers digging into the tablecloth as you try to hang onto enough composure to remember to chew and swallow. He’s slow for a moment, pumping and curling his fingers gently while he watches you eat. There’s a clink of silverware as he discards the fork and puts his arm around you, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Good girl,” he murmurs sweetly.

Mouth empty now, you nudge your nose against his chin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Jack-”

And then his grip becomes determined. The fingers inside you flex, the heel of his hand pressing hard against your clit and all you can do is cry out against the soft skin of his neck and hang on for dear life while he works you up and over the edge with shocking speed.

Trembling, you lock your legs around him as you come down, dragging his collar aside to bite lazily into the place where his neck and shoulder meet.

“Fuck,” he groans, hips rutting up against the back of his hand between your legs. “How do you want me, honeybee?”

That earns him a breathless laugh, goosebumps raising along his neck. “It’s your birthday, Jack. What do you want?”

Whiskey’s eyes drop to your mouth and he makes a considering sound, pulling back to suck you delicately off his fingers. “I think I want your mouth. And then I think I want to fuck you right here on this table until that divinely sweet little pussy wrings me fucking dry. Sound good to you, honeybee?”

“That can be arranged.” His eyelids flutter as you reach down to his zipper, not even bothering with his belt before you reach inside his jeans and the button fly of his boxers to tug his cock free, cupping your fingers to draw his balls out, too.

You move to stand and he shakes his head, caging you in. “No. Not on your knees, baby. On the table. I wanna see you all spread out for me. My pretty little present.”

He helps you. Sweeps your hair back as you lie flat on the dining table, scooting back to let your head hang just a bit. It’s not exactly comfortable. The edge of the table digs into your neck a bit, and the way the blood rushes to your head is not entirely pleasant either. But you watch Whiskey pace around you to take his place in front of your waiting mouth, cock bobbing and just barely beginning to leak for you, and you feel a gorgeous rush of heat at the sight.

Whiskey slides his palm up your stomach to cup one barely-covered breast. “Gorgeous,” he mutters, squeezing. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Jack.”

“I know, darlin’, I know. But my God you’re a picture.” He cups your cheek, absently brushes the corner of your mouth with his thumb before sliding his hand back to give your head a little support. “Open up for me, angel.”

And once again, you open up for what he gives you. The angle makes it strange, the topography of Jack’s body less familiar as he slips into your mouth, your tongue dragging wet and slow over foreign terrain. The taste of him, hot skin and the tang of bitter salt, that you know well enough. You close your eyes at it, bring your hands up to his hips to tug him slowly forward and listen to the way he moans.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, breathless and a little awe-struck. “Jesus fucking Christ. You spoil me, baby. Sweet as fucking honey, my god.”

A light touch against your breast makes you shiver, goosebumps raising as it draws lightly over your skin. A single fingertip, sliding the lace of the bodysuit aside to bare your breasts to the chill of the room and the warmth of Whiskey’s hands.

He mutters sweet things as he begins to move; sweet, tender, unconscionably filthy things. All the things you do to him. Do for him. The rocking of his hips is gentle at first, feeding you his cock inch by cautious inch. When he hits the back of your throat he pulls back on reflex, but the light scrape of your teeth and the sudden tightness of your grip on the plush meat of his ass sends him forward again. The angle eases the motion, and you relax into the pressure as he pushes in and in and...oh.

You feel the resistance at the back of your throat give gently; strange, but not uncomfortable. Above you, Whiskey lets out a pained groan.

“Shit. Oh shit yes, honeybee. Take it. Ohhh s-shit. Take all of it. Every goddamn inch. Fuck.”

And then his hips are flush with your mouth, the soft skin of his balls pressed up against your nose. Panting, he wraps a hand around the stretched column of your throat, swearing breathlessly. He moves, a small, careful thrust, and you can feel the tremor that ripples through him at the feeling.

“Just a little more baby,” he mumbles, pulling back until just the head of his cock rests within the warmth of your mouth. You suckle at it, working it eagerly with your lips and tongue while you breathe raggedly through your nose. Your hips jut up into thin air on their own accord, just as eager for him as your mouth is.

“I got you, honeybee.” The hand at your neck slips down, skimming over skin and lace until he finds your clit. The first touch jolts you, your cry stifled on his cock as you shudder up against him. “Good girl. I got you, baby. Jack’s got you. Keep going. Just a little more. Just a little more and then I’ll fill you right on up. Fuck my sweet girl’s brains right out of her head. Prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever fuckin seen, baby, holy fuck.”

You moan something against him - pleasure, acquiescence, god only knows - but the sound of it is lost as his cock slides steadily back into your mouth. The pressure in your head is distracting, tears prickling your eyes when he pushes in deep, but the stroking of his fingers and the feel of him in your mouth, sliding hard and slick and effortlessly down your throat is far more consuming than the discomfort.

He rocks into you. Fucks into you. Moans and gasping praises falling thick and fast from his lips as he moves. You don’t need to feel the way his balls draw up tight to know how close he is, how tight he’s riding the line between what he wants to do and what his body wants to do. You’re lost in it all the same; his pleasure and the fraying thread of his restraint. Your own pleasure, building quick and low and locking down the muscles in your thighs until they tremble. You float in it, overwhelmed and dizzy, until, very suddenly, you break.

Whiskey curses, pulling back to listen to you cry out, to let you curl up and clutch at him as he pants above you, muttering broken, desperate please of: “yes god yes honeybee all of it, gimme all of it, every last bit.”

You’re a wreck in the aftermath; pliant and limp, face teary and slick with spit and precome. He draws you up, wiping your face with a clean napkin before pulling you into a kiss that steals away whatever remained of your breath. He gathers you up, turns you until you can wrap your still-tingling limbs around him. Nudges his hips against yours, his wet cock dragging against slick skin and fragile lace.

“You okay, baby?” he asks, trailing soft kisses over your face.

You have to clear your throat before you can respond, the sound of it harsh and ragged like an engine turning over. “Y-yeah. Yeah I’m good. Dizzy, but good.”

“You ain’t the only one, honeybee. Almost didn’t make it in time. Wanted to fill up that pretty mouth so bad. You just about did me in.”

He laughs and you join him, breathing ragged joy into each other’s lungs.

“Still want me to fuck you?” The question should be coarse, but somehow isn’t. Not with his sweat-slick forehead pressed to yours and his lips ghosting kisses against your mouth with every breath.

“So sweet,” you mutter, combing your hands through his hair.

“LIke hell,” he scoffs, holding you tight to his chest. “I ain’t and you know it.”

“You are to me,” you insist, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose. He smiles, softens everywhere but that place that throbs with impatient heat against you. “Now fuck me, pretty boy.”

A flash of a grin is the only warning you get before he’s hooking his arms under your knees and pulling you to the edge of the table. “Yes ma’am,” he says obligingly, planting a hand between your breasts to push you back against the table as he lines himself up, sliding into you with one smooth, achingly deep stroke. 

You moan, knees drawing up as his hips meet yours and he fills the space inside you that’s been aching for him all day. Whiskey lets out a groaning sigh, leaning into you like he wants to bury himself whole inside you. He hoists one of your legs up against his chest, nuzzles the inside of your knee while he tries to find his breath again. The length of him inside you is rigid as steel and blindingly hot, still so close to his own end that he has to wait, worrying his teeth over your skin, until the urge to just rut against you like an animal until he comes finally passes.

And when it does, when he opens his eyes at last, he looks down at you with a dazed, hungry smile. He presses a kiss to the tip of his finger and brings it down to your lips.

“Love you, honeybee.”

Heavy-lidded and so wonderfully full, you kiss his finger and arch your back. “Love you, too, cowboy.”

And that’s the last intelligent thing you manage to say. Finally - finally! - Whiskey fucks you, each pounding swing of his hips making the china rattle like nervous teeth. Your arms strike out, curling and flailing, trying to find something to grab onto as he fucks you. The heel of your hand strikes one of the wine glasses and sends it tumbling to the floor where it shatters. The breath leaves your body in tiny bursts with each impact; little monosyllabic cries punctuating each one.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Whiskey murmurs. He cups your breasts, thumbing the pebbled sharpness of your nipples before his hands slide lower, finding the deep notch of the bodysuit between them. “Wrapped up so pretty for me.”

The lace tears away like it’s nothing, a clean rip down the center. Oh well. He’ll buy you another.

Whiskey folds over you, pulling you down closer so he can get an arm under your back, his hand grasping the back of your neck and pulling you up to meet his mouth. He’s still wearing his tie, the drape of fabric laying cool against your chest. Blessedly he’s not wearing his usual belt buckle. Foresight or oversight you’re not quite sure, but you’re grateful all the same as he grinds into you, a press of cold metal and leather against your belly.

He’s not going to last long, but it hardly matters. You’re too worked up, two orgasms down already, cunt so swollen and sensitive it’s hardly an effort to get you there again. But the feeling of him inside you turns that bright burn into something lower, deeper. Something that makes your muscles lock and tremble, straining up against him and gasping into his mouth.

“Jaaaack,” you whine, arms locked around his neck.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, voice quivering with every thrust. “Fuck yes I’m right there too, c’mon. Come with me, honeybee, come with me.”

His rhythm falters, grinding deeper and deeper, and all that strained tension in your body snaps like a rubberband. You sob, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, twisting and jerking as you come apart under him.

All Whiskey can do is growl as you bear down on him, gritting a litany of “yes, yes, fuck yes, god yes, that’s my girl that’s my girl that’s my fucking girl.” And then he’s gone, too, driving into you with a sudden jolt and crying out against the side of your neck as he comes.

You’re holding him too tight, clutching him to you as you both lie there, panting and shuddering, a spreading stain of red wine pooling next to your head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, tries to shift up to find your mouth, but even that amount of drag on his oversensitive cock is enough to make him hiss and jerk. “Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” you agreed dumbly.

Whiskey lets out a growling hum, smoothing your hair. “You good, honeybee?”

You trail kisses up to his ear, still breathless. “What do you think?”

He wheezes a laugh. “I think I gotta replace a lot more than your frillies this time.” The laugh turns giddy, and Whiskey presses his forehead against your temple. “And I think I’m hungry.”

“Pie in the kitchen,” you mumble, too drowsy to do much more than nuzzle into the damp tangle of Whiskey’s hair.

“What kind?”

“Peach.”

He hums, smiling drowsily. “My favorite.”

You give a slow nod. “I know. Happy birthday, Jack.”

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “Best I ever had,” he murmurs.

[space-city-traffic]

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Word count: 3900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: It’s Father’s Day again, and you and Whiskey are trying to revive your sex life. Based on the fic “An Unexpected Occasion” with permission from @quica-quica-quica Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: oral sex/M receiving; oral sex/F receiving; unprotected P/V sex in the context of established relationship; use of clitoral vibrator; medium-level bondage/wrists and ankles/F receiving; medium-level impact play (spanking/hands/leather flogger) F receiving; light throat play/hands on neck/F receiving; a smidge of lactation kink; one instance of Jack calling himself “Daddy”; Jack running his FILTHY mouth; mentions of pink champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries

---

Things hadn’t been exactly dead in the bedroom since your daughter was born, just a little slow and awkward. Jack had taken to fatherhood like a champ, cuddling and cradling the baby in his strong hands when she made her appearance just before midnight on New Year’s Eve. You had nothing to complain about, outside of the usual hormonal shifts and new nursing mom adjustments. Your pregnancy had been textbook-healthy, and other than refusing to sleep through the night, your 6-month-old baby was sweet and easy. Her gray irises and peach-fuzz hair had darkened since birth, and now she was a copy of her daddy, all dark eyes and dimples. The only thing you missed from your “before” life was the higher frequency of good-quality sex with Jack.

You knew from your own work with new moms that it sometimes took months for new parents to get back into the swing of things, but it had still been a rude surprise to find that you and Jack were so tired and busy with parenting that it sometimes took a whole week or more for you to find a mutually-agreeable time to get busy. It sucked, and you missed him.

Just like last year, Jack was out on assignment the week leading up to Father's Day. Valentine's Day this year had been a total bust. Both of you were so wiped out that you had spent the evening bickering and then passed out on the couch in front of an action movie at 8:40 p.m. before waking up at midnight for a quick fumble. Your birthday in April had been similar. You had taken the baby to Grandma's for the evening, and instead of having a romantic dinner out, you had gotten into a minor fender-bender and spent the evening with a heating pad on your neck while Jack argued with your auto insurance company's 24-hour hotline.

So you decided that since it was Father's Day and you were feeling a smidge less tired, and a pinch more sexy, you would use Jack's week away to prepare for a mind-blowing weekend. You bought new bed sheets, got your hair and nails done, and ordered some items online that you hoped would spark his interest again and lead to something playful and fun: lengths of soft, specialized bondage rope, a leather flogger, and a new vibrator, shaped like a tongue with a little divot on one side to cup your clit.

A nurse at work had turned you on to the device, claiming that the soft silicone and specialized shape had given her better climaxes than she’d ever experienced with 30 years of bullet vibes. At least that was one good thing about being in the business of having babies; nobody was shy about sex or the human body. You had plugged it in to charge and took the time to read through all of the instructions, holding it against your hand to feel the different levels of vibrations. You wanted to save the test run for Jack’s return; you were eager to see what he thought of it.

You also chose some lingerie that seemed fairly forgiving for your post-baby body: a black babydoll nightgown with hot pink lace, and a sheer robe and slippers to match. As a labor & delivery nurse you knew better than anyone what pregnancy did to women's bodies, but it was still a little upsetting to see the odd bumps and rumples on your torso that didn’t seem to want to shift. You figured (hoped anyway) that when Jack saw the effort you were going to, he wouldn’t care what “flaws” were hiding underneath the gauze and lace. An hour before Jack was due home, you showered and dressed in your new lingerie. A box of chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of pink champagne were chilling in the fridge. Now you just had to wait.

Jack arrived home right on time, and you sprang up from the couch to greet him at the front door. He lumbered inside with a groan and dropped his overnight bag in the foyer. You didn’t give him a chance to remove his hat before you were rushing to embrace him. “Jack! Baby, I'm so glad you’re home.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you. Where’s the baby?”

You let go of him and stepped back so that he could take in your new outfit. You spun once to give Jack the full view, and then stepped up close to give him a kiss.

“She’s at Grandma’s for the weekend,” you murmured against his lips. “I have champagne in the fridge, and some surprises for you for Father’s Day.”

Jack chuckled and groaned at the same time. “Oh, honeysuckle. That sounds divine, and you look amazing.” He kissed you and slid one hand down to grab your ass. “Is this my surprise?”

You laughed. “Part of it! Come with me, cowboy.”

You led him to the bedroom and made him sit down on the bed. He toed his boots off and started unbuttoning his shirt. You knelt behind him on the bed and rubbed his shoulders as he undressed. “I’m so glad to see you Jack. Are you in the mood to mess around?”

He stood up and turned to you as he removed his pants. “You tell me, sugar.” He slid his tight jeans off and you saw his erection straining against his briefs. He chuckled at you as he stood in his undershirt and hat.

“Oh yeah,” you waggled your eyebrows at him. “I’m so glad you’re home, Jack. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He threw his hat on the dresser and leaned over you to plant kisses to your cheeks and neck and collarbone. You leaned back and he lay on top of you, murmuring against your neck and hair as he nuzzled you. “What’s new, pussycat?”

“Oh, well…” you hummed contentedly. “I did some shopping, got my nails done, bought this new nightie…”

Jack moved down to nuzzle your cleavage. “I see. And what’s underneath? Is that for me, too?”

“Oh, of course Jack. And I got some new toys that I hope you’ll enjoy playing with, too.”

“Is that so?” Jack pulled back and smiled at you. “Can I see?”

You grinned and nodded. “Let me up.”

Jack rolled away from you and you practically bounced over to the closet to retrieve the large gift bag you had put together. He sat up on the edge of the bed and took the bag from you with a raised eyebrow. “Heavy,” he commented.

He reached in and pulled out the leather flogger first, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Oh, honey, you know just what I like.” He ran his fingers through the leather falls and then slapped it once, lightly against the bedspread. “Well that’s going to be fun.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Keep going. There’s more in there.”

Jack reached into the bag and pulled out three bundles of soft bondage rope in pearl gray, white, and black. A soft “Ohhh, I see,” fell from his lips. “You need to test my rope skills, keep me fresh? Is that it?”

“Well it never hurts to practice.” You winked at him. “Keep going, there’s one more thing in there.” You clasped your hands together and waited for Jack to set the rope down on the bed. His hand disappeared into the bag one last time and he pulled out a small white satin drawstring bag; the storage bag that the company had included with your new “device.”

Jack frowned as he opened the bag and pulled out the black vibrator. “What’s this?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“A new vibrator. Very advanced technology, and it’s rechargeable and waterproof! Seven different vibration patterns and each one has five different levels.” Jack let out a long, low whistle at that.

You wiggled your eyebrows at him again. “You wanna play, cowboy?”

“Oh, honeybee. I thought you’d never ask.” Jack reached an arm out to circle around your waist and pull you closer. You put your hands on his broad shoulders and leaned down to kiss him as his hands cupped your ass.

The two of you melted together and time slowed down. You had missed this, missed him; missed the easy intimacy that you had shared so much of before the baby came. He felt familiar and good and strong under your lips and hands, and you felt like you had all the time in the world to reintroduce yourselves to each other.

Kisses turned into groping, and you stopped Jack only once to remove your robe and heeled slippers. When you stood before him in just the nightgown and the matching G-string, Jack ran his eyes and his hands appreciatively over your body. You suddenly felt silly that you had ever imagined that Jack would care about any postpartum changes. This was a man who was covered in scars and dings of his own from years of a physical job, he wouldn’t care that you were softer in some places and more wrinkly in others. He just wanted to love you.

You leaned over Jack to reach for the white bundle of rope, and offered it to him as you kneeled down between his legs. You tugged at the waistband of his underwear and he lifted his hips to help you get them off. His cock sprang free and you moaned at the sight of it, taking it into your hands and mouth to lavish attention on him. Jack unwound the length of rope as you kissed and caressed him, then he reached down to pull your wrists up above your head. You pulled off and looked up at him with a smile as he expertly wrapped your wrists, palms pressed together in a prayer position.

He looked down at you with a gentle smirk. “I didn’t say you could stop, honey.”

You hummed out a laugh and bent your head down between your elbows, going back to work with your mouth. Jack leaned back slightly to give himself room to finish wrapping your wrists. When he was done he gave it a tug. “Too tight?”

You pulled off long enough to say, “Just right, baby,” before diving back down to try to swallow him all the way to the back of your throat. Jack groaned softly as he put his large hand across the back of your neck. The broadness of his fingers and the warmth against your skin made you shiver. You hummed out a little noise of pleasure and Jack suddenly hissed and moved his hand under your chin to lift you up off of him.

“You keep going like that, honey, and I won’t make it to the good stuff.”

You smiled up at him, lips slick with saliva. “Well, where do you want me, cowboy?”

He put a strong hand under each elbow and helped you stand. “Why don’tcha lie down and I’ll return the favor for a while?”

You nodded and switched places with Jack, lying back on the bedspread and letting him open your legs. He ran one warm hand up your calf and opened your knee, then repeated the movement on the other side. He kneeled on the soft rug next to the bed and leaned his head close to your crotch, flipping the hem of your nightie up and back. He stroked your lace-covered mound with his fingers.

“Oh, baby, you look gorgeous. So pretty for me.” He placed his open mouth on your panties right over your clit, pressing down to make a seal with his lips before he breathed out gently. The sudden warmth of it made you shiver, and you moaned out his name. Goddamn him; he always knew how to ramp things up to 100 when you least expected it.

Jack hooked your G-string to the side and slid two thick fingers into you, crooking them just right to brush against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone. You arched your back and moaned again. “Jack! Jesus, warn a girl first.”

“Oh but that wouldn’t be any fun, honeysuckle.” His voice was low, all honey and velvet. “You got me all these nice surprises. I thought I’d return the favor.”

He crooked his fingers up again and you squealed as your hips bucked. Jack’s free hand came down on the inside of your thigh with a sharp slap, just above the knee. He smoothed the impact with a warm stroke before running his fingers higher to pinch the inside of your thigh, right where you were most ticklish. You groaned out a laugh as the pinch shot sparks of pleasure and gentle pain to your core.

“You better hold still, girl, or I’ll give you something to moan about.” His words made a rush of wetness seep out between your labia. He pinched you again, gentler than before, and followed it with a kiss to the tender spot. His mustache tickled you there, and you gasped out a giggle.

“Oh, yes sir! I’ll be a good girl.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. Now stay still while I concentrate.” He removed his fingers and hooked the elastic waistband of your G-string, pulling it down and off before diving back in with his lips and tongue and fingers, working you open. You felt liquid drip down between your crack as he devoured you, his digits pulling more wetness out of your core as his tongue and lips pushed you open and over the edge. You gasped as you came, trying your best to stay still as you clenched around Jack’s thick fingers. The silken ropes around your wrists strained but held tight. He really was good with a rope.

Jack kissed and petted you softly as you came down, murmuring sweet words into your soft folds. “That’s my good girl, so wet for me... I love this pretty pussy… you have no idea… so good for me… you pretty girl, gorgeous girl...” He placed one last, loud, wet kiss on your mound and then stood up. You smiled up at him as he leaned over you, bracing himself on his fists as he lowered his mouth to yours. Jack was all things at once; soft and warm lips under a cold and damp mustache, his own masculine cologne mixing with your scent on his mouth. The combination and the echoes of your climax made you lightheaded.

Jack stood up and wiped his face off with an open palm. “You ready to play, honeysuckle?” He winked.

You nodded and were surprised at how clear your voice sounded, given how fuzzy your head felt. “Yes, please.”

He grinned at you and gripped your upper arm with a firm hand, helping you sit up and scoot back to recline against the pillows. He grabbed the length of black rope and secured your left ankle to the corner of the bed frame, then did the same with the pearl gray rope on your right ankle. Jack’s movements were swift and gentle, and when he was done you gave your legs an experimental tug. You were spread open and secured in place; you weren’t going anywhere.

“Oh, Jack. Have I been a bad girl?” Your voice was high and playful. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Jack smirked at you as he picked up the black vibrator and turned it on. “It’s not what you did, honeybee. It’s what you’re gonna do.”

His words pulled a gasp from your throat and sent a new rush of slick to your pussy. You moaned a low, needy sound as he kneeled on the bed between your legs and brought the vibrator gently to your clit. You bucked and moaned, feeling the silken bands of rope tug against your ankles. Jack put one large palm on your thigh to hold you still. He nestled the flat tip of the vibrator into the folds surrounding your clit and positioned it so that the shallow divot cupped the sensitive bud.

You were suddenly rocketed into another plane of consciousness as a surprise orgasm wracked your body. Chills crept up the backs of your thighs and down over your nipples. The keening, high-pitched wail that reached your ears surprised you; you hadn’t even realized that you had cried out.

Jack petted your thigh softly as he pulled the vibrator away, keeping it pressed feather-light to your outer labia. “That’s my girl. Good girl.”

You came back to yourself slowly, floating back into the room as you opened your eyes. Jack smiled at you with satisfaction that verged on smugness, like he had just solved a puzzle. He turned off the vibrator and tossed it gently on the bed. “You alright, honey? Did that do something for you?”

“Jesus Christ, Jack. Fuck… oh my god… oh, fuck me…”

Jack smirked at you, “That good, huh?”

“I’ve never come like that in my life. Jesus Christ…”

He crawled up over you, pulling your bound wrists above your head as he kissed you. You felt your breathing return to normal as he explored and probed your mouth with his eager tongue. One strong hand held your jaw in place as the other squeezed and groped your breast. You felt something damp and warm trickle out of your nipple.

“Oh, Jack. I’m leaking a little.” You laughed. “Sorry, it’s been a couple of hours since I pumped for her.”

Jack let go of your chin and worked his mouth down to your cleavage. He opened the split cups of your nightgown and cupped one breast while he brought his mouth to the other, talking and murmuring to you between sucks and licks. “You know I don’t mind, sugar… so sweet for me… you like it when Daddy tastes your honey-sweet milk?”

You guffawed. “Don’t call yourself that, please. It’s weird now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honeysuckle. Should I stop?” He looked up at you and winked. “You can call me ‘sir’ again if that feels good.” He worked his way over to the other breast and suckled some more. You felt a spurt of milk leak out as he gently rolled your nipple between his front teeth.

“Hell,” he kept going, laving the stiff bud with the flat of his tongue, “... you can call me all sorts of mean names if you just let me keep tasting you like this.”

You threw your head back and moaned. Jack let go of your nipples and positioned himself at your entrance, lining up and diving in with one swift movement. You both moaned in unison and gasped as he pumped into you. He felt so good, so stiff and heavy inside of you as he rocked you gently with his hips. The ankle restraints tugged gently at your feet, reminding you of the delicious, vulnerable position you were in.

“Jesus, honeybee… you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.” Jack grunted as he thrust into you. “You gonna be my good girl? Take my whole load?”

“Yes, Jack! Yes… I’ll be your good girl.”

He thrust up into you harder, pistoning his hips and shaking the whole bed. He pumped a few more times like that and then lifted himself off. “Turn over for me, sugar. Let me spank you with that new whip.”

You nodded enthusiastically. Jack reached down and released each ankle, and then helped you flip over onto your knees. You braced yourself on your elbows with your wrists still bound, and the sight of the bright white ropes against your skin sent a delicious shudder down your nerves, stiffening your nipples and raising goosebumps on your shoulders.

Jack kneeled behind you and spanked your ass cheek experimentally with an open palm, gauging your reaction. You let out a soft, “Oh…” at the first several slaps. He increased the pressure, sending your hips canting forward a few inches as you moaned.

“Oh, Jaaack…” you breathed out the words. “Oh, you’re so good to me.”

Jack picked up the flogger and brought it down on the other cheek. His first whips were soft, barely harder than a tickle. He was waiting for you to guide him. “Harder,” you urged. He smoothed your buttocks with his warm hand and then brought the leather strings down with a crack that sounded sharper than it was. You egged him on, “Harder, I said. Make it count!”

Jack gave you one solid crack and you cried out. His voice was gruff and sandpapery. “Like that, sugar? You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes, Jack. More… please.” You rocked your hips back and lowered your shoulders to raise your butt higher. “Give it to me. Please, sir.”

Jack alternated open-palm slaps against your ass with strikes of the short whip, lashing you until your cries reached a squeaky high pitch. He stopped and smoothed his warm palms over your skin, then leaned down and lavished open-mouthed kisses on the area.

“You nice and wet now, honey? You ready for me again?” He pressed the head of his cock to your slick entrance and paused.

“Yes Jack, yes please. Get inside of me.”

Jack thrust inside of you, hard, and it sent your head reeling. He skated one big, warm, flat palm over your sweetly abused ass, murmuring praises at you as he pounded steadily into you. You raised yourself back up on your elbows for stability.

“You’re my fucking dream girl, you sweet thing. Can’t believe I got so fucking lucky with you…” He gripped your hips with both hands as he pounded into you, then he leaned over to growl into your ear as he wrapped one large hand around the front of your throat.

“You like that, you fucking dirty girl? You filthy little angel? You’re such a sweet girl, letting me fuck you like this.”

You leaned forward just an inch, increasing the pressure on your throat as he continued to grunt into your ear. The sensation of his warm breath on your ear combined with the delicious feeling of his thick fingers around your neck, and you felt yourself clench around his cock.

Jack’s speech started faltering, interspersed with thrusts and groans. You knew he was getting close. “You-” his breath hitched. “Fucking... fucking pretty girl. Fucking-” He groaned again. “...goddamn gorgeous girl… Fuck!”

His hand tightened just a little around your throat and you felt your pussy clench again, sending him over the edge. He let go of your neck and bent over your back, resting his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades as he rocked into you. You felt him, hot and sticky against your skin as he released into you.

You collapsed onto the bed and he lay on top of you. Your breathing slowed together as you both came back to Earth.

---

“Was that a good welcome home?” You leaned over to Jack’s side of the bed and held a chocolate-covered strawberry up to his lips. He took a bite and moaned. You giggled contentedly and tapped the rim of your champagne flute to his. He nodded at you and swallowed, washing the bite down with a sip of pink champagne.

“Yes, sugar, thank you. That was amazing.” He wrapped his free arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. “I know it’s been a rough year, but I feel like we’re getting back on track in the bedroom. I’ve missed you like this.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I missed you, too, Jack. Happy Father’s Day.”

--- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

"All fics" roll call: @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul

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[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

Floating

For my dearest @frenchfryfranki​, happiest of birthdays my darling! Please enjoy this Aquarium date with a very soft and sweet Jack Daniels AKA Agent Whiskey. 

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF ILY

|| Writing Masterlist ||

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The evening is quiet as you sit in the passenger seat of Jack’s car listening to soft country music play out of the speaker. You rest your crossed arms across the window of his black mustang, watching as the landscape of the city suburbs rushes past, the sun setting in the distance and turning the sky into a vibrant orange, pink and purple gradient. You smile contentedly at the beautiful evening. It was your birthday and Jack was taking you out on a date. You had spent the entire day enjoying time with your family and friends, but you were taken completely by surprise when Jack had whispered in your ear that he had something special planned, just the two of you for later that evening. You had said goodbye to everyone, and Jack had whisked you away, seeming just as excited as you.

Turning to Jack once more you analyse the features of his face, the lights of the highway glimmered in his soft brown eyes, the profile of his nose resting prominently above his mouth, turned up in the corners into a warm and comforting smile, the soft creases in his expression showing off his adorable dimples and the crinkles by his eyes. He notices you staring and flashes you a broad grin. “What’s on your mind little one?”

You match his smile with one of your own as you rest your head back onto the soft leather of the seat. “Just wondering what you’ve got planned for this evening Jack. You’ve been very elusive with the details… Agent Whiskey…” You giggle lightly to yourself.

“Well just know that you’ll like it sugar. I know you pretty well darlin’ and I think I’ve planned a pretty good surprise for you.” His smile broadens and his brow quirks as he looks over to you. You sigh happily as he rests a reassuring palm on the top of your thigh as he continues to steer with his other hand. Whiskey continues to drive as you make your way further out of the city finally pulling up into a large dark carpark. You look over at Jack, a quizzical expression evident on your face. You had never been good at hiding your emotions, Jack always said he could tell exactly how you felt whenever he looked at you. He loved that you were such an open book, and as soon as he looked at you, he burst out laughing. “Have you finally taken me to a deserted carpark in the middle of the night to kill me agent? These past three months of dating was just a cover wasn’t it?” You say jokingly, your tone dramatic and silly as you try to hold back your own giggles.

Once Whiskey had finally recovered from his bout of laughter he hops out of the car and opens the passenger door with his arm outstretched. You wrap your arm around the crook of his elbow as he shuts the door behind you and leads you towards a large building shrouded in the darkness of the night. He takes you to one of the back doors your confusion only growing as he says, “Close your eyes darlin, I want this to be a proper surprise.” You smile as he places his hands over your eyes, “Just to make sure you’re not peeking!” Giggling as he you hear the door open and feel Whiskey lead you inside. Continuing forward Whiskey finally pulls you to a halt. “Ok you can open your eyes now sugar.” You hear Jack whisper softly in your ear as he takes his hands away from your face. Blinking your eyes open slowly you are met with the most beautiful scene laid out in front of you, so pretty it could be the cover of a postcard. You were standing in a tunnel made of glass, surrounded by water and thousands of different sea creatures floating above you. You look up in awe, a huge smile breaking out across your face. Scattered across the floor at your feet was a trail of red rose petals creating a little pathway through the tunnel and further. Whipping around to face Jack you see him standing behind you, hands behind his back as he looked up at you with a nervous smile.

“So what do you think sweetheart… do you like your surprise?”

You don’t know how but your smile gets even wider, so much so that your cheeks begin to hurt. “The surprise was taking me to the Aquarium? Jack I love it…”

He pulls you up to him, a hand on your cheek, and plants a tender kiss on your lips. “I’m so glad darlin.” You both look into each other’s eyes, brimming with emotion. Kissing you gently on the nose, Jack finally breaks the silence, “So are you ready for your private aquarium tour sugar?”

“Am I ever!” The excitement evident in your voice.

The two of you wander slowly through the aquarium taking in every exhibit following his trail of rose petals through the empty halls. You felt like a kid in a candy store, enjoying every single little thing that you came across. Jack was enjoying it just as much but all he could really focus on was you and how happy and excited you were. He loved seeing you like this, full of unbridled joy as you pointed out different things that he just had to see. Constant calls to him as you pulled him along as you walked hand in hand, “Jack you have to see this!... Woah did you know that this species of star fish glows in the dark?!... Oh my goodness look at that one!” You walked from one exhibit to the other, from the coral reefs full of vibrant colours of different flora and fauna, to the touch pools full of star fish, sea urchins, and anenomes. You both put your hands into the water excited as small children to touch the little animals. As you pulled your hands out of the water, you flicked your fingers spraying each other with little water droplets, giggling together. As you laughed Jack grabbed you around the waist and lifted you up as you both continue to laugh together, voices ringing out joyfully in the empty space. He puts you down and you both catch your breath as you grab his hand once more and lead him further through the space.

You continue, both smiling happily as you walk through the other exhibits moving through the coastal waters. You watched as the seals and otters frolicked through the water or rested together in the waning light of the evening on the shore of the enclosure. You let a small aww leave your lips as Jack pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. Continuing along you reach the deep-sea area with colourful luminescent jellyfish and camouflaging fish, looking around the tank eagerly all of a sudden the face of a shark appears out of the darkness and you jump back scared, nuzzling your face into the centre of Jacks broad chest to hide. “What’s wrong sugar?” He says looking down at your eyes worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I really don’t like sharks Jack, they freak me out!” You say, voice being muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles lightly as you look up at him with doe eyes, melting him in an instant. He lifts the black Stetson off of his head, revealing the soft fluffy brown hair beneath, slightly tousled after being under the hat all evening. He slowly lowers it onto the top of your head and as he does it slips over your brow. It as just a little too big for you. He chuckled as the hat fell onto the bridge of your nose, all he could think was that you’d never looked more precious. “Is that better darlin? You can’t see them now and they can’t see you. Alright sweetheart lets get you out of here then, shall we?” You nodded lightly, the hat wobbling on your head slightly at the motion. He took your hand in his and slowly steered you out. You finally came out into the open, slowly taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Jack leaned down to you and lifted his Stetson off of your nose so it rested lightly on the top of your head. “There you go little one… much better.” You both chuckled to each other at the situation feeling giddy once more at his romantic gesture. “I think you look even better than I do in that hat sweetheart, and that’s saying something.” He smirked at you, a cocky glint in his eye.

Swatting his arm lightly you rolled your eyes. This was the silly cowboy that you had head over heels fallen for, the sweet and the ridiculous. All rolled into one. Reaching out his arm once more you took it and began to follow him down the flight of steps around the back of the building. Watching your feet as you went you slowly began to hear sloshing waves as you rounded the corner. Looking up you saw the shoreline of the ocean right in front of you, another part of the aquarium but out in the open. Your mouth dropped open for the second time this evening at the beauty of it all. The moon shone brightly giving the waves a beautiful white glow, the sound of birds rustling as they settled for the night.

“One last surprise my love.” You looked over to where Jack had walked to, the platform of the aquarium that jutted out over the water, where a beautiful picnic was laid out. Candles and fairy lights surrounding a red and white checkered picnic blanket, a small wicker picnic basket full of your favourite foods and a smiling cowboy, with the biggest grin resting underneath his scruffy moustache.

You had never been so happy in your entire life. You run over to him, one hand holding onto the black Stetson resting atop your head, and the other quickly wrapping around the back of Jacks neck as you jump into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist once more as he lifted you up to his height and pulled you into the softness of his lips. You kiss him back passionately, both holding onto each other closely as you conveyed every last ounce of joy you felt, being here, with him, in this moment. Finally breaking away from him you looked up into his soulful brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “I love you Jack.” You whispered as your eyes started to well up. He gently brushed a stray hair that had fallen across your face back behind your ear.

“I love you too sugar. Happy birthday.”

Permanent Taglist: @pedrohoe04

[goatbi]

Four Years Old

Joshua Freeman is four years old. He’s been four years old for three months now, and he’s very proud of this fact. He’s also proud of how many things he knows. 

He knows how to spell his name. He knows how to spell his daddy’s name, the real one, not just ‘Daddy’. He knows how to spell Miss Abigail from across the hall’s name. He knows all of his numbers, and all of his letters. 

He doesn’t know all the words. He’s working on that. 

He does know where a lot of words come from. Joshua was really curious about that a lot, how words worked, and Daddy had set a certain amount of time each day to sit down with his computer, and Joshua lists all the words he’s curious about, and Daddy types them one by one into the computer, and he tells Joshua what kind of word it is, and where it’s from. 

Joshua tries really hard to remember this all. It seems important to him, and Daddy never tells him not to, because it made Joshua upset the one time Daddy said he didn’t need to memorize all the words. Joshua thought he needed to, so Daddy didn’t tell him he didn’t anymore. 

A lot of times those times with Daddy meant that Joshua had questions about what other words meant, but he told them to Daddy, and Daddy wrote them down in a big list to keep track of all the words Joshua wanted to know about, and they worked their way down through the days, and Joshua sometimes put a word back on if he wanted to be reminded what it was like. 

Daddy never told him not to. It made Joshua happy to know about words. 

He told Miss Abigail across the street about these words. She was a nice lady, with a lot of wrinkles, and when Daddy had to go to work, she brought Joshua over to her apartment, which smelled like cats and stale candy, where Joshua would sit down and tell her all about the words he learned, and she would be surprised, and ask him questions, and if didn’t know the answer, he made her write it down, and she would give it to Daddy to either answer or to add to the list. 

Today was one of those days. Daddy was really happy today, and Joshua was really happy because of it. He got slid his chocolate milk, and he beamed up at his Daddy from under the brim of his cowboy hat, and Daddy danced around the kitchen and made him pancakes with silly faces made out of strawberries on them, and Joshua giggled. 

“Daddy’s gonna be a bit late coming home today, Joshie.” Joshua frowned at him at this. “Just a bit. Only another hour at Miss Abigail’s, at most.” Oh. Well, that was okay then. He had stayed up to an hour after Daddy’s coming home time before. He nodded into his chocolate milk, and Daddy smiled at him, lifting his hat to ruffle his hair with a heavy hand. Joshua liked it better when it was heavy like that, and he tugged his hat back down on his head, giggling. 

“Why?” He asked, and Daddy understood what he meant, as he always did. 

“Well, Daddy has a big project today! He’s gonna have to stay late so that he can make sure he does it right, and doesn’t mess anything up.” Joshua nods. He didn’t like messing up his projects either. If Daddy had to stay a bit longer to make sure he didn’t that was okay. 

“You can... stay two hours!” Joshua said, and Daddy laughed, a loud booming sound that made Joshua feeling his bones were vibrating. 

“Well, I’ll try not to stay that long, but thank you.” It was very generous. 

He knew that word. Daddy used it a lot. It wasn’t that big of a word. He had heard Daddy say bigger words, but it was a big word to him. 

Daddy walked him over to Miss Abigail's, and she smiled at him, taking Joshua’s hand. She held a bit too lightly, but Joshua let her, cause she knew her hands weren’t big and heavy like Daddy’s were. “Good luck on the big test today, Gordon.” 

“Thanks Miss Abby. I have gracious been given permission by that little one for an extra two hours, but I’ll try not stay out that long.” Miss Abigail nods, and leads Joshua inside, and Joshua waves as the door closes, calling out that he loves Daddy. 

Before the door clicks shut, he hears Daddy say it back, and grins widely, until his cheeks hurt and he has to stop. 

He has a peanut butter and honey sandwich at the counter for lunch, and Miss Abigail makes him mac and cheese with cut up hot dogs in it. 

Joshua knew that when the numbers on Miss Abigail's stove had a seven first, that meant Daddy would be coming home soon. He still remembered that he had told Daddy he had an extra two hours, which meant that he had until the numbers had a nine first. Joshua was gonna be really sleepy when Daddy came home, but that was okay, cause he would get to see his Daddy again. 

He fell asleep on Miss Abigail’s couch when the numbers had a 1 first, followed by three zeros. 

When he woke up, he was still on Miss Abigail’s couch, and it made him upset. He wanted to go home. He liked Miss Abigail, but her house smelled funny, and Joshua wanted to go back to his house, where it smelled like cinnamon and strawberries, cause Joshua liked both of those smells, and so did Daddy. 

Miss Abigail gave him pancakes for breakfast, and, when Joshua asked her where his daddy was, she dodged him. That was another thing. Daddy never dodged his questions. He pouted at her, and refused to play with anything she tried, just kept his hat on his head and sniffled. 

He wanted his daddy. 

During lunch, which was a peanut butter and honey sandwich, Miss Abigail called someone on her phone, and stepped out of the room. Joshua knew it was dangerous to get down from his chair without help, but did it anyways and crept to the door, peeking out. 

She was saying a lot of words very fast. Daddy talked fast too, and so did Joshua, so that was okay. 

“Look, I don’t know. He hasn’t come home, and there’s news that something happened at Black Mesa they’re keeping super hushed up. All I know is that Joshua’s dad is missing, and I’ve got a four year old with a very strict schedule that I might not be able to keep.” 

Missing. He knew that word. Daddy told him that word after his favorite hat went missing. He couldn’t find it, and Daddy sat him down and told him all about the word, so that Joshua could understand what happened. Now his Daddy was missing. 

They had found his hat. He didn’t know if they could find Daddy. He was the one who was good at finding things. What if he was missing forever? 

“Oh, Joshua, what are you doing up? You full?” Joshua looked up at Miss Abigail, and sniffled. 

“What if Daddy’s missing forever?” He asked, forcing the words past a lump in his throat, and Miss Abigail sighed lowly, crouching down to his height, opening her arms for him to sink into, hugging him tightly, as tightly as she could manage. It wasn’t as tight as Daddy’s hugs, but that was okay. 

“He might be, Joshua.” That’s what he liked about Miss Abigail. When he asked her about things directly, she would tell him directly. “Something happened with your daddy’s big test, and he might be missing still, but we don’t actually know. Until then, I’m keeping you here.” 

Joshua frowned at that, and Miss Abigail smiled. 

“We can go over to your house if you’d want.” 

He nodded. He liked his house better, but he did still want his daddy, and he had one more question. 

“What happens... if they don’t find him?” He asked softly, and Miss Abigail sighed. 

“Then you might stay with me for a lot longer.” And she stood to get all his things together. 

Joshua knew he didn’t have another daddy. He also knew it would be another Daddy. He knew that cause one time, when he was a bit smaller than he was now, someone had called Daddy a very mean word, and, when Joshua asked what it was, Daddy had told him that it was a very very bad word, and not even one that Joshua was allowed to say. He told Joshua that he did something that usually mommy’s did, and that a lot of people thought he should be a mommy instead of a daddy, but Joshua didn’t like that word. Daddy was daddy, and mommy just didn’t sound right. 

Joshua told him that. For some reason, it made Daddy cry and hug him real tight, but that was okay. He liked tight hugs. 

So Joshua didn’t know his other Daddy. If Daddy was gone, who would he stay with? He couldn’t imagine staying with Miss Abigail for long. 

It proved more difficult as the week continued. Joshua began to hate Miss Abigail, and he meant that a lot. He didn’t want to see her anymore, he wanted his Daddy, but he was still missing. He spent a lot of time upset, crying, and could cling onto his hat, and slept in Daddy’s bed rather than his own. He told Miss Abigail he hated her a lot, cause he thought it was true, but she didn’t believe him, and, when he calmed down a bit, he would apologize. 

He began to sit at the door and wait for Daddy to come home. He would eat at the door, stare at it, and, when he fell asleep, Miss Abigail would move him to daddy’s bed, where he would wake up. Daddy’s room was right next to the front door, and Miss Abigail left the door open for him to see it. He liked her better when she did that. 

Joshua didn’t know time all that well. He didn’t like numbers as much as letters and words, so he didn’t think about time all that much. He did know a lot of days had passed, when the door cracked open, and it wasn’t Miss Abigail. 

The man that came in was tall like his daddy, had a bunch of brown curly hair like his daddy, was big like his daddy, and had bright and kind green eyes. There was a lot more wrinkles on his face, and a lot more of the pretty silver in his hair, his eyes were all tired, with dark marks around them and one of his arms was orange now, but Joshua knew in a moment that that was his Daddy. 

And when Joshua flung himself into his Daddy’s arms, Daddy squeezed him tight, and something realigned in him, and Joshua felt okay again, squeezing Daddy back just as tightly. 

[carocane]

Daddy’s Cowgirls

Flufftober Day 18 - Costumes

9-1-1 Lone Star

Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder

Judd was right, pink cowboy boots and hats are adorable on a baby girl. So are purple ones, if he does say so himself. 

He studies his baby girls in their matching outfits, feeling pretty pleased. Grace won’t let him dress them up like this on a regular day but today is no regular day.

Today is Halloween and Halloween calls for costumes. Like little tiny adorable cowgirl onesies printed with handkerchiefs around the neckline and little denim skirts, with matching boots and hats. He adjusts the hat on Charlie’s head and snaps one more picture just as Grace comes into the nursery. 

“Judd, I told you before the babies didn’t need cowgirl outfits,” Grace says when she sees the twins in their finery. 

“You said it was because they were too little to walk in them. But it’s Halloween. They don’t need to walk in them. They just need to be cute. Which they are.” 

Grace takes a minute to find the flaw in that logic but comes up blank. “What happened to the other costumes we got for them? The pumpkin and pea pod ones? I thought they were going to wear those today.”

“Cowgirls are better,” Judd determines as he scoops up Faith in her purple outfit, waiting for Grace to do the same with Charlie. “Look at how adorable they are.”   

“The other costumes are cute too, Judd. You’re just being stubborn.” 

“The other costumes are fine. These are just better,” Judd insists as he leaves the nursery, one of his beautiful baby girls held firmly in his arms.

Grace and Charlie follow them down the hall, Grace muttering to the baby about her daddy being silly and insisting his little girls need cowgirl outfits. 

“This is really how you want them dressed today? And for the Halloween party tonight?” Grace asks her husband with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, yes it is,” Judd confirms with a huge grin.

“Ok, these outfits it is,” Grace has to concede that the girls do look cute. She’ll let them stay like this. They can give the other outfits to someone else.

There’s still a bit of time before the party that night with the 126. Grace and Judd take turns getting the house and food ready and feeding and entertaining the babies, before they both go to put them down for a nap.

The cowgirl onesies come off for now and they get into sleepers so the outfits don’t get messed up before the party. Charlie screws up her face in agitation at being changed. “See, she wants to keep being a cowgirl,” Judd claims.

“Well, she can have cowgirl dreams while she takes her nap, but it needs to come off for now.”

Just before the babies usually wake up and before everyone is due to be at the house, Grace goes to change into her own costume for the night. Judd hasn’t seen it yet. She wants it to be a surprise. 

Grace walks back out of the bedroom adjusting her outfit to make sure it’s perfect. Judd is going to love it. 

Her husband has taken the time she’s been gone to change into his own costume and the two stop and stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins. They’ve managed to have a couples costume without meaning to.

Grace is decked out in a rhinestone studded button-down white shirt, flouncy denim skirt, red cowgirl hat and matching cowgirl boots. Judd is dressed in a cow print onesie. 

Judd’s mouth drops open in surprise and he points an accusing finger at his wife. “I thought you said no cowgirl outfits!”

“I didn’t want the girls wearing them today. I was gonna surprise you with all of us in our outfits tonight. Looks like I still got you, though Judd.” 

“Yeah, well I got you too. You shoulda seen your face,” Judd shoots back with a laugh.

Grace is beaming, proud of herself for surprising her man. She might even have more surprises for him later that night, but for now the babies are waking up and it’s almost time for their guests to arrive. Perfect.

[kellbellsparkles]

Chapter 1 of my new Ratchet and Clank fanfic I call "Family". Clank and Rivet have built in mini Dimensionators so they can travel freely only between the two dimensions.

In the present day, Ratchet and Clank hopped over to Rivet and Kit's dimension to explore their version of Veldin. The night was bright with bustling buildings and night goers looking for a good time.

"This is seriously Veldin?" Ratchet remarked in awe. "I mean, I haven't been back to mine in a long time, but it's always had this open, dusty frontier field; the kind of dusty where kids could stand by tumbleweeds and look cool with their toothpicks and cowboy hats."

"You can thank my Nefarious for that," Rivet said. "It's the one thing that everybody can't just let go of."

"It makes sense if it is all they have ever known," Clank said.

"Along with being able to document history as he saw fit," Kit added.

"Do you know who will be in charge of the new era, Rivet?" Clank asked.

"I haven't bothered paying attention to all that," she replied while shrugging. "I'm all about the here and now." She beamed suddenly. "And here we are now!"

They arrived at a tent in between two buildings with purple neon lights. On the flaps was a sign decorated with a martini glass and four rectangles resembling cards.

"Pretty ironic to be coming to a fortune telling booth with bar," Ratchet said.

"Hey," Rivet said defensively. "Jarmin has never given a fortune that didn't come true. You want to know if you're gonna win the lottery too, right?"

"Now that I think about it," Clank said. "Receiving a fortune is much like playing the lottery. We pick any card from the fortune teller's hand or from the top of their deck depending on their dealing preference--"

"The door isn't opening itself, Bolts," Rivet cut in. She swung the flaps open. "Come on!"

The crew entered the tent. Inside was space to have a fully functioning bar. At the center were four place mats and a deck of cards. The owner, Jarmin, was a fongoid.

"Party of four today?" He asked.

"Yup," Rivet said. As she reached for her wallet, Jarmin raised his hand.

"It's on the house for your great service for ending the now former emperor Nefarious," he said.

"Really??" Rivet squealed. "I love you, man! I'll take a kick some sass with a drop of smash gin!"

"How about the rest of you?" Jarmin offered.

"Nah," Ratchet said, shaking his head. "I'm still new to this world."

"I do not drink," Clank added.

"Obviously," Rivet retorted.

"That is actually not correct," Kit said. "Robots can enjoy variants and equivalents of food and drink."

"But it's not like you NEED it. You and Clank don't use the bathroom."

Clank blinked curiously.

"I was not aware I needed to," he said.

"You don't," Ratchet assured. Clank tilted his head.

"Do I want to?"

"No." He patted his head gently, his eyes showing concern. He turned to Rivet, desperate to change the subject.

"So who gets the first card?"

Rivet put her hand behind Kit and ushered her forward.

"It's all you, Kitty," she said with confidence.

"Me?" Kit croaked. "But why? And why Kitty?"

"You'll get used to it. Now draw a card."

Kit shakily reached for the deck. Hesitating, she drew her arm back and looked down at the floor.

"What if it's a bad fortune?" she said with a frightened tone.

"Kitty, Kitty," Rivet said in a consoling tone. "If you get a bad fortune, all you gotta do is get it done and over with and then you'll have good things in life immediately after. Isn't that right, Jarmin?"

"It's what brings people back," he cheered as he brought Rivet her drink. "Here you are, honey." Rivet gave him a wink, a smile, and a pointed finger snap in response. Kit took a deep breath.

"Okay," she said. "I am going to do it." Her legs trembled as she took small steps towards the card deck.

"We're right behind you, Kit," Ratchet said gently.

Hearing her friend's belief in her, she stood firmly and nodded. She stood directly in front of the deck and placed her hand on the top card.

"Please do not be death or causing death," she whispered as she closed her eyes. With all her courage, she grabbed a card and held it in the air in a dramatic fashion. She stayed in the pose for a good few seconds.

"What does it say?" Clank asked.

"Oh no," Kit moaned. "Is it blank?"

"We can't see," Ratchet said. "You need to turn it around and show us."

Kit turned her whole body around with her eyes still closed.

"You need to see it yourself, too, silly goose," Rivet chuckled.

"Oh," Kit said, embarrassed. She opened her eyes and brought the card down to her level. She turned it over to see what it showed.

"Do you like what you see?" Rivet asked with a smooth grin.

"I think so," Kit responded. "It's a heart."

"The heart card means you'll be unconditionally loved for all time," Jarmin chimed.

"Awwww," Ratchet cooed. "You see, Kit?"

Kit's metal lips quivered. She burst into sobs and ran into Ratchet's arms.

"What did I do to deserve iiiiiiiiit?" she wailed.

"Of course you deserve it," Ratchet said happily, patting her back. "You're wonderful."

"My turn!" Rivet shouted, scrambling towards the deck with her drink in her hand. "Let's keep the good vibes going!" She drew the card swiftly as she took a sip. Once she took a look, her eyes gaped in horror. She spat the contents of her drink onto the card.

"Aw no!" she hollered. "No, no, NO!! Absolutely not!" She made an attempt to draw another card.

"Ah, ah, ah," Jarmin said sternly. "Only one card per customer, and you'll have to pay for the next visit."

"Dammit, Jarmin!" Rivet cried. "You can't do this to me!!"

"What's wrong, Rivet?" Ratchet asked with worried. Rivet slammed the card in front of her crew; they leaned in for a closer look.

"It looks like a stork carrying something in a white cloth," Kit said.

"I have heard of this phenomenon," Clank said. He clapped his hands cheerfully. "How exciting. You are being given a baby."

"There's nothing exciting about it!!" Rivet exclaimed angrily. "Babies are the leeches of society: they get in the way of a good night's sleep, having fun, and they poop something extraterrestrial!! And when they get older, they destroy everything they set their sights on and speak their own babbly language we only nod and pretend to understand!!"

"On the contrary," Jarmin interjected. "The stork card doesn't mean you'll have a baby. At least not right away. It mostly means that you'll make a great mother one day."

"But I don't want to be a mom," Rivet whined. "Why do women have to be engineered to be birth machines?"

"What is a birth machine?" Clank asked innocently. The room grew silent; Rivet stared at Clank, completely dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?" she snapped light. Kit stood in front of her, desperately waving her arms in the air to gesture silence.

"I-It's where the stork picks up the baby to be delivered," Ratchet stammered nervously.

"Oh my," Clank gasped. "So babies do come from genetic modifying pods. The little kids from the playground were right!"

"Yup!" Ratchet squeaked. "Kids sure are smarter than we give them credit for!" Rivet rolled her eyes.

"Overprotective much?" she said under her breath.

"I guess it's my turn now!" Ratchet exclaimed, desperate to draw the focus back to the cards again. He drew his card; he looked it over from top to bottom.

"Huh," he said, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What's this mean?" On his card was a lock box with something inside writing to get out.

"That's the trap card," Jarmin responded. "It means something is trapping you or you will be trapped by something." Ratchet's face fell.

"Oh," he said softly, his ears drooping slightly. "I feel a little attacked there."

"It will be alright, Ratchet," Clank said suddenly, coming to his rescue with a hand hold. "These cards do not have a time limit, and ultimately, we will have good fortune. We will all be here for one another." Ratchet sighed and gave a soft smile.

"Thanks, pal," he said.

"As always, Ratchet," Clank replied. He lightly skipped to the deck of cards. "Now, let us see what my fortune is." He drew a card from the deck. He turned it over and glanced with great intrigue.

"Oooooo," he said, eyes wide with wonder. However, Kit's eyes were filled with great fear as she held her hands over her mouth to conceal a yell. Rivet froze mid sip of her drink. Jarmin shuddered and bowed his head, doing a prayer motion with his hands. Ratchet was unaware of his surroundings and continued to be drawn by his friend's curiosity.

"It's blank," he said.

"It appears so," Clank replied. "This must mean there are an infinite amount of possibilities for me; so many unknowns."

"Wow, pal!" Ratchet beamed. "I think you and Kit are the big lottery winners tonight!" He stood up and stretched. "I'm ready to head back if you are." Clank trotted to Ratchet and hopped onto his back.

"Thank you again, Rivet and Kit," Clank said. I never could have imagined us acting as conduits for transporting between our dimensions without your suggestion."

As they left the tent, all Rivet, Kit, and Jarmin could do was watch them with sinking feelings in their stomachs.

"Are we really just going to let them be?" Kit shakily questioned.

"It could be what Clank said about being left up to interpretation," Rivet nervously suggested. "Right, Jarmin?"

"The fortunes depicted in the cards have always come true," he said grimly. "Orvus, have mercy." Rivet and Kit looked at each other with great uncertainty and dread.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Sgt. Hartman

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Sgt. Hartman while stationed as a nurse at the boot camp. You supposed that working in basic training was better than on the battlefield; especially since this would be your first gig as an army nurse, but the comparison did little to ease your nerves. You were still going to be taking care of a bunch of untrained men floundering around with dangerous weapons and equipment. 

- Regardless of your worries, you arrived at the camp early in the morning with your bags all packed and your hands eager to do something. As you stepped outside of your car, you were met with the sight of the older man, hands behind his back and a straight, almost scowling expression on his face.

- His face softened upon seeing you; though it didn’t do much to make him any less intimidating. The man introduced himself, ushering you to follow behind him as he began to give you a tour of your “new home”. After he showed you around, you were taken into the barracks and introduced to everyone in typical Hartman fashion. 

“Private cowboy, where's the infirmary,” He’d bellowed out and the man; Private Cowboy, quickly answered the shouted question. “Precisely! Now, if one of you sacks of shit gets your dick blown off by your rifle, this is who you will go and see! Is that clear?”

“Sir yes sir.” You’d nearly shouted alongside them. 

- The man demanded obedience, oozed authority, and held enough power in his hands to make a persons knees buckle beneath them. He was old enough to be your father and yet, there was something about him that just drew you in. 

- Unbeknownst to you, the drill sergeant was equally attracted to you as you were to him. 

- Now Hartman hasn’t had to flirt for a while so he’s a bit rusty. His attempts to compliment you are stunted and awkward and he isn’t quite sure what to talk to you about. But over time he gets back into the swing of things.

- Believe it or not, he used to be quite the catch when he was younger; and while he’s a few years past what you’d probably consider his “prime”, deep down he’s still just as suave and …creative. 

- It’s going to take you a while to realize exactly what he’s trying to accomplish, mainly because; in the beginning, you can’t really spend a lot of time together. He’s a busy man and even if you were to see him a lot, you most likely wouldn’t assume your superior; who’s that much older than you, is trying to hit on you. It would seem like more of a “a girl can dream” moment. 

- As I mentioned before, when you’re first starting to actually get to know each other, you aren’t really able to spend a lot of time together. He decides to do something about that, requesting that you come with him and his recruits when they go to do field training or target practice; “so you can be right there if something happens to them”. 

- Most of the time, you’re just sitting and watching but when he’s able to, he’ll stand by your side and make conversation, throwing in some slightly suggestive and ambiguously flirtatious comments. He doesn’t want to lay it on too thick in front of the “maggots”. 

- It’s only when the two of you get some alone time together that you can have some genuine banter. You flirt light heartedly, in a way that many would perceive as joking though it’s not a joke to either of you. He teases you and you tease him right back, something he’s quite fond of. 

- Well, it all comes to a head on New Years. You’re sitting in your office, finishing up some paperwork and feeling just the slightest bit homesick when you hear a knock at your door. 

- It’s obviously him, and while you figured he might stop by, the champagne he’s holding is certainly a surprise. Regardless, you soon find yourself sitting on your desk with him standing beside you, the both of you a little tipsy; just enough to make you feel warm and loose. 

- The remarks you exchange are a blur. All you can remember is watching in a heated daze as he leans in closer and closer until finally he seizes your lips in his. Long, slow, and slightly clumsy, the two of you kiss for what seems like forever, your arms wrapping around his neck as his fingers dig into your hips. 

- It’s a few minutes past midnight when you finally break apart and you shyly wish him a happy new years, unsure of what to say besides those few words. He merely chuckles huskily and pulls you into another kiss. 

- And thus begins your relationship with the master of maggots. 

- Modest and reserved pda. He’s got a bit of a reputation to keep up so most of your affection is gonna happen behind closed doors.

- He may be a hard man but he’s soft with you; surprisingly so at times. If any of his cadets saw the two of you when you thought you were alone, they’d die of shock right then and there.

- Long, hard kisses.

- Swats to the butt in private. You stand before him with a beautiful bottom and expect him not to touch it? You ask too much of him. He’s only human.

- He likes to keep a hand on the small of your back. It’s sort of a show of ownership; for lack of a better word. He wants everyone to know that you’re off limits without outwardly telling them.

- He’s a fan of pet/nicknames if you couldn’t tell. You get called a lot of different things: sweetheart, honey, darling, sugartits, etc.

- He’s not a huge cuddler but he’ll sling an arm around you and let you lay your head on his arm even though it makes the appendage annoyingly fall asleep.

- He’s an old fashioned man; a Christian one at that, so a want for domesticity has been instilled in him from a young age. Let’s hope you’re willing to be a little homemaker because that’s what he’s expecting and hoping for.

- Making breakfast for him in the morning. He always gives you a “mornin sunshine” and a side hug when he walks into the kitchen.

- Straightening out his tie for him.

- Sitting on his desk and putting his hat on when he isn’t wearing it. It earns you a little smile every time you do so.

- Kisses on the temple.

- There’s going to be long stretches of time where you don’t see each other in person, it’s a part of the job and you’ll just have to accept it. It sure makes for some great reunions!

- He gets all proud whenever you praise him; especially for his medals and things of that nature. He puffs his chest out that slightest bit, straightening his shoulders as he tries to act modestly.

- Being there for all of his recruits ceremonies and congratulating him for making “another fine batch of soldiers”. 

- Watching his drills in your spare time. Even if you aren’t fond of some of his particular methods of earning respect and shaping his students, you can still admire him and the power he holds.

- Like I said, you may not like some of the ways he treats some of his cadets but you sure have to stifle a laugh when you pass by every now and again. You feel like a bad person but you can’t help it; he’s a funny, raunchy man.

- Late night meetings in your office. Try to remember to lock the door behind him.

- He’s got wonderfully rough hands and that’s all I’ll say about that.  

- He enjoys being able to make you laugh. He’ll tell you jokes, poke your sides, throw you over his shoulder; whatever it takes to make you giggle and squeal.

- You get away with a lot of things no one else could. You think anyone else could insult or talk back to this man without having their holes resized? No ma’am, not a chance.

- Few people are graced with his smile and you are one of those few people. It may be a small one but it still feels like an honor every time you see it.

- He’s been a drill instructor for quite a while so he’s certainly got a few stories to tell. They range from violent to embarrassing; for someone else, to just plain funny; you’ve got a tale for every mood.

- Hearing the stories behind his scars and tattoos. He likes the way you trace your fingers delicately across them while listening intently to what he has to say.

- He may or may not have gotten your name tattooed on him. 

- If you want to go out and do something, he’s one old man that can handle it. He enjoys being in the great outdoors so hiking and things of that nature are right up his alley.

- Barbecues. He will tease you if you’re vegetarian or vegan; all while grilling vegetables and veggie burgers.

- He prefers dates where the two of you can be alone together. It’s nice to get away from the stupidity of his cadets and from your hectic work.

- Sitting in his lap after a long day. He likes holding your hip in his hand and giving it a light squeeze every once and a while, usually after he makes some teasing remark.

- Nighttime brandy and bourbon. It’s a nice way to wind down before bed.

- Sneaking around the camp with each other. You’ve shared several kisses behind shut blinds and secluded corners.

- Hunting, fishing and camping trips. He’s a typical middle aged man who likes to kill and you’re his girl so you’re always invited to join him.

- Getting taught how to shoot and assemble guns. He thinks it’s a skill that everyone should know, even a pretty little things like you. 

- Trying to get him to ease up just a little bit; at least in some cases. He may be a professional drill instructor but you’re a professional human and you know when some people require something other than humiliation to learn.

- A jealous man. He feels a bit silly whenever he gets that burning feeling inside but he reasons that you’re his woman and he has the right; especially when it’s some young stud flirting with you. Usually, he’ll narrow his eyes at them and turn on his intimidation, asking them where they’re supposed to be and ordering them away as soon as whatever you needed to do with them is finished.

- He can always tell when you’re only trying to be nice and/or do your job so he never gets angry at you. He’ll just tell you not to be so sweet all the time and/or walk out without another word.

- A bit overprotective; he hears about anything and he makes sure to handle it. He doesn’t often use violence but his presence is enough to spook people. Rest assured, if it’s one of his cadets that’s causing problems, they’ll be running laps from sunrise to sunset.

- You get a whole lot of respect; at least to your face. No one is ever gonna start trouble with you, not when they know who you’re with. The most you’ll get is some young kid trying to push his luck but Hartman makes sure to squash that fast.

- He gets out most of his frustration at work so the two of you rarely fight; at least not aggressively. If there’s an issue then you’ll argue and resolve it within the hour, that’s just the way he is. The only time the two of you have a serious fight is when you’re adamant on trying to change the way he does things.

- If he’s upset you then he’ll apologize for that but trying to get an apology for anything else is like pulling teeth. He has a hard time admitting when he’s wrong though it isn’t too much of a problem since he rarely is in the wrong.

- He doesn’t tell you that he loves you very often but he does so on occasion, usually on your anniversary and during long goodbyes; things like that.

- As a god-fearing, old fashioned man, he intends to make an honest woman out of you as soon as he can. He’d be stupid not to.

[the-demelza-robins]

american high school!jily part five: of explanations and apologies

hello!! SO sorry this has taken so long, thanks for sticking with me! here’s chapter five :)  you can also read it on a03 if you want!

Petunia comes back for Thanksgiving with a declared major and a boyfriend. The major — nursing — is to be expected; the boyfriend, however, is not. His name is Vernon. He’s stocky and short and smells like cigarettes. They sit in the living room — Petunia and Vernon, Mom and Dad, Lily — in near silence.

Finally, Lily speaks. “How’s school?”

Petunia flicks an invisible piece of lint off her pencil skirt. “Fine.”

“What are you majoring in, Vernon?” Lily’s mom asks.

His lips spread across his face and it takes Lily a moment to realize that this is what his smile looks like, reptilian as it may appear. “Finance.”

“Vernon’s very good at it. He’s a senior, you know.”

“A senior?” Lily blurts out before she can stop herself. “In college?”

Vernon shoots Petunia a look, like who the hell is this girl, and Petunia responds with a grimace before turning back to her sister. “In college, Lily.” She spits Lily’s name like it’s poison.

“It’s just —”

Lily’s mom glares at her.

A knock sounds at the front door, and Lily springs up to get it, surprised to find James standing on the doorstep. It’s been drizzling out, and he doesn’t have a coat, and for a second Lily feels like she must get him warm, give him a blanket at least, but then he smiles and wipes droplets off his glasses and offers the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding.

“From my mother to yours.”

“Huh?”

“I think they’re on the PTA together, hit it off. She wanted me to bring flowers to the Evans household.” He looks over her shoulder, into the house. “Is this a bad time?”

From the living room, Lily’s mom calls, “Who’s there, Lily?”

Lily sends a panicked look in James’s direction. “Um. James — James Potter?”

“Don’t leave him out in the rain,” her mother calls, scolding, almost, and Lily can imagine, with frightening clarity, the look Petunia’s giving Vernon right now — the Lily’s always been different, socially awkward, just my silly sister, glad you found me and not her…

“You okay?” James asks, brow furrowing as his eyes search her face. “I can come back.”

“No, sorry, just spaced out for a second. Come in,” Lily responds, shaking herself slightly and taking the bouquet. “They’re pretty.”

“My mom wanted to send, um, lilies and petunias, but I talked her out of it,” he admits, hands in pockets as he follows her through the foyer and into the kitchen, where she starts looking for a vase.

“Thank god.”

“Thank James,” he teases, hopping up on the kitchen counter, and this is something he’s always been infuriatingly good at, James: acting like he’s at home wherever he is. Tricking her into feeling comfortable, even when she’s not.

For a second — brief second — Lily imagines what it would be like to stand between his knees and kiss him. She dismisses the thought. Finds the vase. Fills it with water from the kitchen sink and cuts the flowers’ too-long stems and arranges them in a pleasing way. James watches and doesn’t speak.

She’s run out of tasks, now, so she turns to face him. “That calc test is going to give me a migraine.”

He smiles, something weak in it. It occurs to Lily, horrified, that he may not want to be here, with her; that he may have come in because her mother insisted that he do so, that he’s been waiting to leave this entire time. After all, why would he want to spend time with her? They’d been friendly at school, sure, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see her outside of it. She opens her mouth, closes it: how does one say “you can leave, if you want” without sounding like a complete jerk? Besides, she wants him to stay. She’s not sure of many things, but that she’s sure of. She would exchange James’s palpable silence with Petunia’s any day.

“Is your sister here?” he asks, tracing a finger along the faux-marble lines of the countertop. She tries her best not to keep staring at his hands. Why is she staring at his hands?

“Yeah, she’s home for Thanksgiving. With her boyfriend.” Lily can’t hide the displeasure that coats those last few words.

James raises an eyebrow. “Would you rather she stayed single?”

She shrugs, leans against the opposite counter. The Evans’ kitchen isn’t huge — more like an afterthought, removed from the rest of the first floor — and only a few feet separate them. “He’s just… three years older than her. And so boring.”

He laughs at that. “Maybe he’s not boring to her.”

Lily leans forward conspiratorially. “Want to know a secret?”

“What?” he whispers, head tipping towards hers.

“I think she likes that he’s boring.”

James makes a face. “What’s the fun in that?”

“I know, right?”

“Lily?” A new voice.

Lily turns so fast that she can feel her neck crack, just a little bit. Her mother now stands in the doorway, apron over her nice dress, eyeing the flowers and the boy who brought them. “Hello, James.”

“Hello, Ms. Evans,” James says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. That confidence, that sense of self, falters under Laurel Evans’ gaze — she’s been known to have that effect.

That is, at least until she tilts her head, smiles. “How’s your mother?”

He grins back. “Great, yeah. Having a bit of a gardening moment.”

“Looks like it. The flowers are wonderful.”  

“I’m glad you like them.”

“Stay for dinner?”

Lily looks at her mother in shock, but the woman doesn’t even cast a glance in her direction. James does, though, and for a second Lily swears she can read his mind. It goes like this: he raises an eyebrow, and she responds with a shrug, and he thinks for a moment (fingers still tracing those marble-countertop lines, Lily can’t stop watching them move) and then nods, and says, “If you’d have me, that would be great.”

“You’d better get out of the kitchen, then. You can visit with Petunia and Vernon?” Here, Laurel’s eyes shift to her daughter. “Or Lily can show you the house?”

Lily’s never been like her mother, not really. Appearance-wise, Lily’s hair is too red and her eyes are too green and her hips are too wide. Personality-wise, her voice is too soft, her confidence too fallible, her way of being too unobtrusive. Laurel and Petunia: two peas of the same pod, but here, now, when Laurel glances at Lily, gives her an out, another option, anything better than spending more time with her sister — now, Lily realizes that her mother may understand her better than she thought.

“I’d love to see the house, Lily,” James says, mischief in his eye, knowing what he knows, now, about her annoyance with Petunia.

“Wonderful,” Laurel says. Wind blows against the windows as she and Lily swap places, as James hops off the counter, as he follows Lily out.

***

The Evans residence is not a mansion, not in any sense of the word. Lily avoids the living room, where Petunia, Vernon, and Mark Evans still sit, making stilted conversation, but she shows James the home office, the first-floor powder room, the dining room where they’ll eat later. “Upstairs are just bedrooms,” she says, standing by the staircase, unsure what to do with herself.

“I bet you have a color-coordinated bookshelf,” James says, like he can tell by the freckles on her face or the way she walks or anything about her, really.

“Oh?” she replies, cocking an eyebrow. Standing on the first step of the staircase, they’re the same height.

“Yeah.”

“One way to find out.” And then they’re walking up the staircase, and into Lily’s room, and she has to blink. Has to reset. Because this — James Potter in her room — was never supposed to happen.

“No color coordination,” he tsks at her bookshelf, then sits on her desk chair. She takes the bed — it’s a twin, not big enough for the both of them. All is quiet as she watches him examine her desktop. She feels laid bare, vulnerable, as he looks at the pictures she’s chosen to frame.

“Halloween, freshman year,” he says, pointing at a photo of Lily and Marlene, dressed as emoji salsa dancers.

A dim memory surfaces. James, in a broad-rimmed hat and heeled boots. “You were a cowboy, right?”

“Yeah. Peter was my horse.”

She sees it, now: James, shorter and rail-thin, all sharp angles, drinking in Sirius’s kitchen. Seeing her. Shot, Evans? Her, wrinkling her nose, turning away. Her first real party, completely sober. “I bet he loved that.”

His expression darkens for a second, then he nods. Gives her an easy smile. Her skin’s prickling because the last time they were together for this long, they ended up kissing. And she’s not sure that’s an experience she wants to repeat. Well, part of her’s not sure that’s an experience she wants to repeat.

He turns back towards her desk, focuses on an old photo of her and Sev; one she’s debated cutting up and throwing away a million times. “I forgot you were friends with Snivellus,” he says, aiming for a light tone and missing the mark completely.

“It’s Sev.”

He turns back towards her. “Oh?”

“It’s Severus. Sev. Not Snivellus.” She needs to regain control of this situation, needs to put some barrier up; needs to remind herself that the boy in her bedroom, the one looking through her stuff, is still James Potter. Still too sharp to touch.

“He speaks quite nasally, though,” James says, smirking slightly.

“I think it’s quite a mean nickname to give someone,” Lily says, tone stiff. She sits up straighter, meets his eyes.

He looks away first, something like red coloring his cheeks. “I guess it is. Old habits die hard.”

It’s a concession — yes, a small one, but a concession nonetheless. She decides to match it with one of her own. “I keep thinking about Halloween.”

His gaze snaps back to hers, and it’s her turn to blush. “Not the — not that part. Before. When you asked me why I’m so, well, confusing.”

She can’t do this. Can’t unspool her thoughts, untangle them, arrange them neatly; can’t do it while looking at him, can’t do it while in her childhood bedroom, can’t unpack the mania and leave it for him to interpret, like some lost artifact.

But then she marvels at the fact that he’s here, that he’s listening, waiting patiently. And she decides that she can at least try.

“For the most of my life, I haven’t been on your side, James,” she finally starts, staring at her lap. “Sev was my only friend. I felt like he was the only one who got me, who truly saw me. Petunia didn’t; Mom and Dad tried but they were too busy. He was my only ally.”

At this, she dares to look up. He’s frozen, devoid of all color: a painting. An anomaly against these pink-painted walls.

“And — not to go into specifics — but he had a rough childhood. Rough home life. And you — you’ve always been so perfect, James. Smart. Charismatic. Um, handsome. You coasted through life, and you made his a living hell.”

“I didn’t coast through life, Lily,” James mutters, but it’s a moot point. She knows it, he knows it.

“It’s not your fault — the coasting, that is. Everyone knows you’re destined for — well, whatever you want, really,” she says, making some vague gesture towards the window, towards the world. “But it was a harsh contrast to Sev. You were perfect, and you were still bullying him.” A whisper, but he can hear it: “The perfection hurt the most, I think.”

He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. “And then that night. Halloween. You asked why I was mad at you, and you didn’t remember. You didn’t remember all those days on the playground. You could just forget. It made me, well, mad.”

He clears his throat, but she’s not finished. “I know you’re not like that anymore. I overheard you in the stairwell, back in September, and it was nice of you to take the blame for the camera. And I know that Sev — well, he’s — he’s not really someone worth defending. But that’s where it gets hard. We were friends for a long time, and I’m trying — I’m trying so much to forget, to forget about our childhood and our moments together and the fact that, for so long, we were each other’s person. But it’s difficult, and your reaction was just salt in the wound.”'

The thought strikes Lily, belatedly, that she’s never told someone this much about her relationship with Sev. She wonders if confiding in James was a mistake, but dismisses the thought. She trusts him now, she realizes. She has no real reason to, not really; a shared math class, one Halloween night — these connections don’t inspire automatic faith. Yet still, his casual friendship over the past month, the way he blends into her home life: these small interactions make her confident that he'll guard her secrets.

“Lily, I’m so —” he sounds stiff. Like he’s exercising a muscle long neglected. She hears his inhale, hears him start again. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I forgot on Halloween. I separate — I didn’t make the connection between you and Severus, Lily, because I’ve tried so hard to forget it. Reminding myself that Severus Snape knows you better than I ever will — it’s just too painful.” Another breath. “You’ve always been the one I wanted to impress. I was so jealous of Severus, Lily. When we were younger, I couldn’t believe that you chose hang out with him over me, but of course you did. You’re so good, Lily. We were assholes, we hurt people. I regret it all, now.”

The air stills. He looks up, then out the window. His glasses have fallen down his nose, and Lily feels the oddest urge to slide them back into place. “It’s okay,” she finds herself saying, because it really is. A textbook apology. She accepts it wholeheartedly. “I just wanted to explain.”

He nods, gaze slotting back to hers, something wonderfully familiar about it. “Your explanations are more emotionally taxing than the average girl’s, Lily Evans.”

She feels her mouth giving way to a smile. “Can’t ever do anything halfway.”

He chuckles quietly, face falling into unreadable territory yet again. “Right.”

Shit. “I would — I would like to be friends, though,” she offers tentatively. “For real this time.”

For a second she gets deja vu — that same proposal of friendship, his same smile, reappearing now, a month ago on Halloween. “That’s a relief.”

“And James?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t — I need you to know — I don’t see you as that elementary school kid anymore, okay?”

His grin stretches even wider, but before he can respond, Laurel Evans knocks on the door, telling them that dinner’s ready.

Lily can’t help noticing that, as they leave her bedroom, James is standing up straighter than he did before. Can’t help noticing that she is, too.

[beebubbly]

Wonderful World.

In the soft white-gold light of the new day, Casey stirred in her bed. The warmth of the sun's rays from the open curtains were usually a welcomed heat, but not today.

Casey whimpered lightly pulling her pillow over her head in attempt to block out the light. A soft knock came at the door and a moment later it opened an inch.

"Casey? You need to get up for work" Sienna called into the room.

Casey moved the pillow from her head and slowly sat up, her mind was hazy and she rubbed her tired eyes.

"W-what time is it?" she rasped out.

"You got about half hour before we head out..." Sienna told her leaning against the doorframe.

Taking in the sight of her best friend, Sienna noted the usual paleness to her face. She frowned lightly, concern filling her.

"You alright?"

"Mmmh" Casey hummed still half asleep, but she couldn't ignore the raw feeling in her throat.

Sienna nodded, still worried but she left her friend in peace to dress.

Casey climbed carefully out of her bed, and pulled on the outfit she had laid out the night before. Once ready she made her way to the living-room where the others were waiting.

"Ready?" Jackie asked as she finished her coffee.

"Sure" Casey said her voice coming out in a horse whisper, she cleared her throat and tried again but still she sounded the same.

"Are you okay?" Aurora asked as the group made their way to the train station.

Casey nodded as she absentmindedly rubbed at her throat in attempt to ease the pain.

By the time she was an hour into her shift, Casey came to the conclusion that it wasn't just simply waking up that hurt her throat, it was the start of a sore throat.

"Dr Valentine, your lab results" Sarah's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Thanks" she croaked as she took the file.

"Sounds like you have a sore throat coming, you should head home" Sarah told her.

"I'll be fine" Casey waved a hand in dismissle but the burning sensation painfully reminded her that she wouldn't be.

Trying to rest her voice as much as she could, Casey attempted to try and talk as little as possible. But when your job involves taking to a lot of patients to solve problems, it was nearly impossible.

"Alight I've had enough of watching you put yourself through this pain" Sienna's voice came from behind Casey just after her lunch break.

"I need to work" Casey rasped her voice barley audible.

"I know, so I've come up with a comparison" Sienna told her grabbing her arm lightly and pulled her friend along.

Casey was too tried and in pain to question her small friend, she allowed herself to be dragged through the hospital.

"Here we are" Sienna announce opening a door, puzzled Casey stepped into the room to find most of her friends inside.

Casey turned to Sienna who followed her inside shutting the door behind her. Her friend looked gleeful.

"Okay so tell her your idea Sienna" Elijah called excitedly making the two doctors turn to the group.

"Well, as you're voice is mostly gone and we have finished our patients, we're going to the pediatric ward dressed as fairytale characters"

"You're going to be Ariel, and you'll have this" Jackie said handing Casey a chalkboard.

Casey looked between the board in her hands to her friends, touched by their kindness. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Come on we better get ready" Aurora said quickly spotting her friend about to cry.

"Here, let me" Rafael offered picking up the bags containing the costumes of the group.

After a disastrous ten minutes of the group laughing and attempting to get dressed in the same room, they finally tumbled out of the on-call room dressed in their costumes.

"If anyone speaks about this" Jackie grumbled fixing her crop top of her Princess Jasmine costume.

"I think we look awsome" Elijah grinned from his seat his cowboy hat of his Woody costume was a little big as he pushed it back to look at her.

"Easy for you to say" Bryce grumbled as he adjusted the green tights of his Peter Pan costume.

Sienna linked her arm though Casey's her eyes shone with barley contained excitement.

"The kids are gonna love this" she grinned.

Casey nodded in agreement, and no sooner had the stepped into the small community room, they were greeted with loud squeals of delight, mixed with excited calling of the characters names.

As the group, minus Casey greeted the children in character, one little girl tugged on Casey's dress. Casey carefully crouched down to her height.

"You're pretty" she said shyly, her thumb in her mouth as she spoke.

Casey smiled warmly at the little girl. She motioned towards the chalkboard that was tied around her neck.

I can't talk, the sea-witch stole my voice.

Two tall figures approached and read the sign for their daughter.

A look of horror passed her small face before she looked delighted.

"I know! A true loves kiss will get it back" she cheered excitedly grabbing Casey's hand.

Glancing at the parents, who looked a little confused but hopeful that Casey would play along. Casey nodded and smiled down at the young girl.

"Come on! Let's go!" The girl cheered.

"Emma, be careful and be good for Princess Ariel" the mother called.

To both her embarrassment and delight Casey found herself being paraded around the hospital by the small child who declared to anyone who met them that Casey was looking for a Prince and needed to be kissed.

Many people smiled at the sight, others chuckled amused. Some doctors were stopped by the pair in attempt to get the kiss.

They found themselves on an all too familiar floor, one that held the diagnostics team's office. Emma dragged Casey in that direction.

"That's him!" Emma squealed delighted. Casey looked down before following her gaze where she found a familiar figure.

Ethan was sat in the glass office, blissfully unaware of the events that were transpiring nearby. Emma bounced on the spot before pulling on Casey's arm to get her to move.

The sound of the glass door to the office sliding open caught the attending's attention. Looking up he took in the sight before him.

Casey was out of her usual formal wear and white coat and now wore a white and blue dress with a black corset. He could just make out a large bow peering over the top of her head. She look rather beautiful.

"He's it" a small voice broke his gaze. Glancing down Ethan caught sight of a young girl practically swinging from Casey's arm.

"Sorry?" Ethan asked confusion sweeping over him.

"You have to kiss her, you gotta break the spell" the young girl said in a rush.

Ethan felt the corners of his mouth rise slightly in amusement, especially as he took note of the light blush now adoring Casey's face.

"I suppose if it's to break the spell"

Ethan stood and carefully stepped around his desk. He only needed to take two steps before he was in front of Casey.

He gently cupped her face, his thumb gently sweeping across her cheek before he ducked slightly and lowered his lips to her soft one's.

The kiss was brief as the adults vaguely remembered they had a young audience as Emma cheered. Pulling away Ethan looked into her soft, tired eyes.

"Hi" she whispered.

"Hi" Ethan breathed back.

"You did it!"

The trance was broken as they turned their attention to the small girl. Ethan crouched down to her height as he studied her for a moment.

"You must also be a princess" he hummed as he gently poke her belly making Emma giggle.

"No silly, I'm just a girl"

"Are you sure? Because I think you're exactly what a princess should be" he smiled.

"I pretend to be a princess, not like Ariel" Emma attempted to whisper to Ethan.

The older doctor chuckled.

"Well, I think after breaking the spell and getting Ariel's voice back- we deserve ice-cream"

"Ice-cream? Yay!" Emma cheered running to the door.

Ethan stood back up and dusted himself off, turning his attention to Casey who was looking at him with such a love filled gaze.

"Sienna text me saying you were ill, I figured something cool would help sooth the soreness until we get you home"

Casey smiled and nodded greatfully, linking her arm through Ethan's the pair followed after the bouncing child.

Perhaps having a sore throat wasn't all that bad, especially when she had such a kind and handsome prince to look after her.