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#I’ve forgotten how to tag my little guy :(((
sometinysludge · 6 months
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HE
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ok I haven’t posted much recently but here’s a silly guy for you!!!
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am-i-interrupting · 2 months
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Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.
Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink
He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.
Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.
He was angry.
He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.
Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.
He recognized you. Why?
He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.
Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.
He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.
You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.
He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.
He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.
Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.
It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.
He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.
“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.
“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.
“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.
“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”
He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”
You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.
“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”
“To have a good time.”
“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”
The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.
“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.
“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”
“It’s one I play often.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”
Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.
He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.
Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.
“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.
“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”
“I am not—“
“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”
For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.
He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.
He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.
He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.
He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.
He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.
He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.
He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.
“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”
“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”
“Contracted?”
“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”
You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.
“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”
“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”
He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”
You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.
His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.
You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.
“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.
He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.
The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.
Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.
“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”
“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”
“True, but—“
You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.
“Oh, fuck.”
“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”
“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”
“I could be.”
You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.
You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”
You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.
You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.
He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.
He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.
You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.
“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.
“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”
You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”
He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.
You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.
“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.
Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.
“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”
You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.
“Good,” he choked out.
You hummed against his skin.
He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.
You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.
“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.
A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.
He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.
He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.
You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.
“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”
“Oh fuck.”
You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”
His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”
“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”
You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.
You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.
You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.
Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.
He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.
Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.
He could cum from just this alone.
However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.
“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”
The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.
He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.
You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.
You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.
Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.
You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.
“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.
His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.
He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?
God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”
“Fuck, please don’t.”
“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.
“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.
You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.
You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”
“Fuck.”
He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.
He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.
You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.
The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.
A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.
You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.
“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”
You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”
He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.
He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.
“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.
Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.
He rolled your clit between two knuckles.
“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”
He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.
He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.
Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.
“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.
He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.
“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.
“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.
“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.
He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”
“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.
A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.
That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.
The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:
I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction
You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention
I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be
He’s down on his knees begging me with please
Better than any of his fantasies
Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction
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povlnfour · 6 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 8
series masterlist | previous part
lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 207,567 others
landonorris 100th race, p2, and a nice little call with my girl to show off her flexibility. thank you austin
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user3 ‘MY GIRL’🥹🥹🥹
user7 I KNEWWW EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY
user9 lando have you seen what she’s done?
landonorris have friends? yeah pretty happy for her tbh
charles_leclerc p2 because the fia hates lewis and me*
user2 see everyone the boys are fine
landonorris keep crying mate
yourusername i actually hate you so bad rn
yourusername @/charles_leclerc SURE you don’t wanna date me instead?
user1 HELP Y/N AJDJDJSJ
user6 she said i’ve had ENOUGH
charles_leclerc make me that rice dish again and i’ll consider it
landonorris @/charles_leclerc you don’t even know what tteokbokki is called you don’t deserve her😤
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername from monaco with love
👤 tagged alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc
only people yourusername follows can comment
alex_albon we need to have a serious conversation about how cute lily always looks in the photos you take and yet…. me…
lilymhe that’s just your face baby
charles_leclerc he’s not gonna know what hit him🤫
yourusername you could not have made this sound worse
charles_leclerc i’m quite enjoying being an accessory to internet drama
lilymhe do you know what’s rude? you spend one (1) second with a man and get a dating rumour… yet NOTHING when you hang w me!
yourusername FR we’ve been married for two years atp🙄
landonorris i know a Better place in monaco you can visit🧡
yourusername get your cute butt home and show me then
texts with charles ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates y/n at the airport today!! it seems she’s flying out to mexico for the upcoming grand prix 🩷
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user9 seriously? has everyone just forgotten she’s a cheater?
user3 and yet you follow fan accounts of her??? get a life
user7 ur actually miserable. lando hates u.
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y/nupdates any unnecessary hate comments will be deleted and you will be blocked🩷
user8 she’s so pretty even in the rain :( and she stopped to take photos with fans
user1 apparently someone gave her a necklace with an L on it and she put it straight on🥹
user8 @/user1 YOURE KIDDING THATS SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY
user1 THEY GAVE HER A MATCHING BRACELET FOR LANDO WITH HER INITIALS ON AS WELL!!!!
landonorris thank you admin for giving me a new lockscreen
user2 OH MY GOD ADMIN
y/nupdates 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 YOU ARE SO WELCOME
landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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tweet 4 should finish: hate towards those close to me*
tweet 6 should finish: blocked by my team**
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren from p17-p5. not the start to the weekend he wanted but he only went and turned it around🙌🏻
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user2 SO PROUDDDS
user9 all because of her….
user3 HAVE FUN GETTING BLOCKED LMAO
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user6 GUYS I THINK MCLAREN ACTUALLY BLOCKED THEM THE COMMENT ISNT SHOWING UP FOR ME LMAOOO
yourusername that’s my boy
mclaren we heard it had something to do with his lucky charm😉
user3 this isn’t taking a week off ma’am
yourusername had to support the boy. it starts now <3
y/nupdates just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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a/n:
OKAY this part was boring i am very sorry BUT there is onE OFFICIAL PART LEFT. it’ll be a long one i warn now but then there may be a mini epilogue of stuff i fully made up for next summer xxxx
thank you all for coming on this crazy ride with me — sorry it’s aLL OVER THE PLACE atm but it makes sense in my head ok
charles au is also otw next week and a one shot lando smau
taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicoranorca @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call
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negans-lucille-tblr · 6 months
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The Fan | Jensen x Reader | Oneshot
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Summary: Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with a man with a filthy mouth and an oral fixation he’s hell bent on ruining her life with. 
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Tags: audio porn, porn AU, dirty talking, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, oral fixation, oral sex galore, use of sex toy, masturbation, public masturbation, Jensen has a filthy filthy mouth in this one, it might make you feral be warned…
WC: ± 4K
A/Ns: I shouldn’t be trusted to write porn when I’m feeling feral because this is absolute filth and I just wanna thank Laura for commissioning it and sending me further down my crazed rabbit hole. <3
Want your own commission? Find out more here!
Jensen Ackles Masterlist
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“Oh fuck, baby girl, you take Daddy’s cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt, don’t you?” he coos as your whole body starts to break out into a light sweat. “Best damn pussy I’ve ever fucking had, sweetheart.” 
You whine, your back arching off the bed, your head fuzzy with your impending orgasm as your eyes flutter closed and you try to stave it off just a little while longer. 
“Look at you, so fucking perfect, you were made for me, made for my cock inside you. Daddy’s perfect little slut,” he growls, gasping for breath at the end of his sentence, moaning deep from his chest. “Tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it.” 
“I’m your perfect little whore, Daddy,” you whine out, your fingers working your clit to the very edge of sweet release.
“That’s fucking right you are, baby, feel so fucking good on my cock, fuck, making Daddy wanna fucking cum. Do you want that? Hm? Do you want Daddy’s cum deep in that pussy? Maybe I should put your panties back on you and send you out. Let you walk around the store with my cum dripping down your thighs. Oh you like the fucking sound of that, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, and you gasp for air, the feeling of the cock pistoning in and out of you almost too much to bear anymore. 
“You’re not going to cum again are you?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you cumming when my mouth isn’t down there to taste it. Do you need my tongue in that cunt again, baby girl? Or are you still craving Daddy’s cock? Look at you, so fucking desperate you don’t even know what you want anymore, you just want to be used, don’t you? You just want Daddy to use that fucking cunt over and over until I’m through with it. I’ve fucking got you, baby girl, you’re mine and everyone fucking knows it. I’ve marked you up good, you wanna see your skin, fucking covered in my claim.” 
You can’t take anymore, and you cum hard, screaming out in pure ecstasy as your climax washes over every inch of you, and you’re left gasping for air, squirming on the edge of over-stimulation as the cock continues to piston in and out of you at the steady pace you’d set it at. 
Your eyes flutter open and you’re brought back to the room, your earbud falling out, letting the natural ambience of your bedroom fill your eyes, the very faint sound of the actor’s voice still bleeding through the forgotten earpiece. Your body is still trembling, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you as you finally reach for the dial beside you and slow the machine down until it’s come to a stop, and you carefully remove the toy from inside you and whimper at the loss of contact, even if you are thoroughly done. You reach for your phone to pause the audio, realising there’s still ten minutes left. You never can make it to the end of one of his audios. That man is far too good at what he does, and it’s a crying shame he doesn’t do videos, though you realise that audio gets you off far better than visual does nowadays. You don’t even think you’d care what the guy looks like, if he can make you cum that hard and that many times with just his words, he could look however he wants and you’d still fuck him. 
Somehow, the guy seems to be all your biggest fantasies wrapped up in one dirty mouthed human, and you’re actually starting to worry about your real dating life, given you’re never going to find a guy that will ever come close to your favourite audio actor, you’re sure of it. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying, even if your nights do end like tonight; alone and getting yourself off with your best investments yet; your fuck machine and Patreon subscription to ‘Dean Winchester’.  You hadn’t even needed a machine before Dean, and you actually had more real life sex with real life men, but over time you ended up settling for mediocre one night stands less and less, rathering going home to Dean, instead. You know your obsession is borderline unhealthy at this stage, but if the guy would stop putting out the best audios you’ve ever heard, then maybe you’d stand a chance. 
*
Work is so mind-numbingly boring, you find yourself watching the clock on the wall and praying that the last twenty minutes would hurry up, so you can get out of the office for the weekend. With the weekend upcoming, you don’t have time to start a new project, but you finished your last one two hours ago, and have been desperately trying to seem busy for your boss’s sake since then. You sigh and twist yourself left to right in your office chair, and practically leap at your phone the second it goes off next to you. Finally, something to do. 
You’re quick to glance around you when you realise that the notification is from Patreon, and you open it cautiously to see Dean has posted a new audio. It’s rare for him to post something mid afternoon on a Friday, and you read the title and the audio information, eager to find out what your Friday night is going to entail. 
Daddy can’t get enough of eating that sweet pussy (with toys)
Contains: Excessive oral sex, daddy kink, use of toys, praise, degradation, slight humiliation, mocking for multiple orgasms, soft dom, aftercare 
You look around the office, feeling your pussy getting uncomfortably wet already, and rub your thighs together, reaching into your purse and grabbing your headphones, before quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You would normally at least try to wait the extra hour, and for  the comfort of your own home, but this one sounds too good to wait. You just want a little glimpse; at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lock yourself into a bathroom stall and eagerly put an earbud in, making sure your phone is definitely connected to it before you turn the volume up a little. 
“Hey, baby girl,” Dean hums through the headphone, and instantly the wetness doubles.
You shift uncomfortably in your heels, and take a seat on the closed toilet lid, hitching your dress up enough to get to your soaked panties. You can just have a little play, it’s not like you’re busy, and no one will know what you’re doing in here. 
“Have you missed me? Aw, I can tell,” he coos, “have you been waiting for me all day? I’ve had a long week, and I was thinking I could use some stress relief,” he explains. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left you naked in bed this morning, been thinking about that sweet little pussy, about how good you taste. My cock has been hard all fucking day just thinking about tasting you when I got home.” 
You try your best not to moan out loud, your fingers now pulling the ruined material of your panties to one side as you take a shuddered breath in and start to tease your swollen clit. 
“You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” he asks, and then a low hum rumbles through him. “Fuck, let me take those panties off, wanna see that dripping little pussy properly. It’s gonna taste so fucking good, you always taste so fucking good, you’ve got Daddy addicted, d’y’know that?” 
You rush to remove your panties over your heels, wanting to keep up with the fantasy now playing in your mind’s eye, and you quickly stuff them into your blazer pocket. 
“Don’t worry about making dinner, I’ve got enough to feast on right here,” he chuckles lowly, and then the sound of his lips smacking over something fills the quiet, and he moans under his breath. “Tastes fucking good, baby girl,” he praises. “That pussy was made to be eaten, and look at it, practically dripping for me, such a naughty little slut, hm? You want a finger inside you?” 
Instantly you slide one finger inside your warm, wet cunt, and your eyes roll as you throw your head back. 
“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he laughs, “then why don’t you use the dildo I got you? It’s right here, I’ve got it, let me see if I can make it fit.” The sound of vibrations accompany Dean’s hums of approval, and you wish with everything in you that you were home right now, where you could reach for your own vibrator and slide it inside you like Dean’s doing in your fantasy right now. “Fuck, baby girl, you take it so well, does that feel good? It’ll feel better when my tongue is back on that clit.” 
“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath, pushing a second finger inside you in a desperate attempt to mimic the toy you’re imagining. 
“Don’t worry about me, baby, I’ve had a cockring wrapped around my cock all day, I’m gonna be fucking you for hours yet. Now you just lie back and let me take care of that sweet little cunt.”
The bathroom door opens outside of the stall, and you jump to remove your fingers, even though whoever has entered won’t see what you’re doing, you still don’t want to get caught out somehow.  The obscene noises of Dean ‘eating you out’ are still playing into your ear, and you rush to pause the audio in an attempt to calm yourself down a little, hearing the clicking of heels on tile as someone enters the stall next to you.
“Y/N?” you hear Amber call out. 
“Yeah?” you call back, your voice shaky and not trustworthy, right now.
“You coming to the bar with us?” Amber asks. 
You stand up and flush the toilet to complete your facade, heading out of the stall and quickly beginning to wash your own juices off of your fingers before Amber somehow notices. 
“Not tonight,” you insist, your mind very much on the remaining twenty three minutes of Dean’s new audio, and the date with your machine you’ve found yourself with suddenly. 
“C’mon, you’ve not been out in forever, plus, Sascha insists that this new bar has the hottest guys,” Amber explains as she also exits her stall and stands at the sink beside you, washing her own hands. 
“I gave up on men a long time ago,” you remind Amber with a chuckle. 
“Oh c’mon, I’m all for silicone friends, but you’ve gotta get a real dick at least once in a while, and girl for you, it’s been a while.” You laugh at her bluntness and shake your head. “You’re coming, even if I have to pay for your drinks all night,” Amber insists. 
You sigh and roll your eyes, before nodding reluctantly, guessing one drink won’t hurt if it gets Amber off your back. 
“Great,” Amber beams, reaching forward to undo the top button of your dress so your cleavage is far more on show than it was before. “There, let’s go.”
*
One drink has somehow turned into three, because every time you say you might leave, Amber is quick to buy you another cocktail, and you feel bad wasting her money by not drinking it first. You’re hyper aware of the fact your panties are still stuffed into your blazer pocket, and your pussy is completely bare and exposed under your dress, and the only thing you can fully focus on is the remainder of Dean’s audio you want to listen to. You really do have a problem, apparently. 
By the fourth drink, you offer to pay, feeling bad that Amber is footing your bill all night, and you guess you owe her one drink before you finally go home to your machine. You stand at the bar and shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you wait to be served, your mind running wild with all the ways Dean is going to fuck you tonight, and when the barman finally stands in front of you, you realise you’ve forgotten what Amber wanted. You guess your way through a list of a few different cocktails, figuring one of the girls will drink them even if Amber doesn’t, and as the barman moves away to make your long order, you hear a scoff beside you. 
You turn your head to look at the man, and are kind of taken for a moment because he’s pretty attractive. Sascha was right, the men at this place really are better looking than the rest of the bars around town. Maybe they have some weird lighting, or something. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs easily, and his voice shoots straight to your core. Jesus, has it really been that long since a hot guy has talked directly to you? “It’s just I’ve been stood here for over five minutes, and that bar man is only serving the hot girls,” he explains. 
Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and then you scoff and shake your head. 
“Clearly not, he just served me,” you counter. 
“I stand by what I said,” the stranger insists, after his green eyes have raked up and down your body a couple of times. Is this guy actually flirting with you? You find yourself staring for a moment. There’s something very familiar about him, but you’re fairly sure you’d remember ever meeting a guy this attractive. 
“Do I know you?” you ask him, frowning. 
His green eyes light up and he laughs softly, shaking his head. 
“Urm… don’t think so,” he finally offers, shaking his head. But his hesitance only confuses you more. 
“Are you sure? I swear I know you somehow,” you insist. 
The guy begins to blush, and he clears his throat before looking around himself. 
“Well, what if I said my name is… Dean,” he slowly offers. 
Your eyes widen immediately, and you’re not sure if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kiss the man. His voice that’s what you know, that’s what’s so familiar, and that’s why you’re having this kind of reaction to just talking to some guy. So you’re not that desperate, after all… or maybe you are, depending how you look at it. You would’ve never placed him as Dean Winchester, no matter how intimately you know his voice, because you never would’ve actually expected him to be more attractive than the picture you’d painted in your head. And you never would’ve expected to bump into him at a bar in town of all places. 
But then the realisation hits you fully. If this guy is Dean Winchester then he knows that you listen to his stuff, and he knows that you listen enough to recoginise him. 
“Oh my god,” you gasp, your cheeks burning. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry,” you fumble to apologise, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head. 
“Why are you sorry? I love meeting fans.” 
The word fan only makes your skin crawl more, he’s going to think you’re some psycho, some desperate woman that needs audio porn to get her kicks. 
“Oh god,” you groan, now feeling your skin crawling in shame. 
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, really,” he reassures you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. “Honestly, I’m flattered a girl like you listens to me.” 
“Oh sure,” you scoff, not believing him for one second. You want to tell him you don’t really listen to his stuff that much, but then you realise that might be insulting, and you don’t want to tell him you’re as big a fan as you are, or you’ll just look even more pathetic to him. “Listen, I’ll leave you alone,” you conclude. 
“Oh,” he replies simply, before licking his lips and nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.” 
You can’t help but feel like you’ve insulted him somehow, and you swallow hard, rushing to explain. “I don’t wanna seem like some creepy fan,” you excuse. 
“Sweetheart, I’m the one that hit on you,” he laughs. 
Your eyes only widen further, “you were hitting on me?” 
“Yeah, well… I thought I was… I did call you hot, didn’t I?” 
“I guess,” you agree, now feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. The guy that has given you more orgasms than all the other men in your sexual history put together has hit on you. “I’m sorry, I just always assumed that a guy like you would be married, or at least dating someone.” 
“Nah, my work is just as much for my benefit as it is yours, trust me,” he laughs softly. “So, can I at least buy you a drink, even if it’s just to thank you for liking my work?” 
*
“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” you confess, already drunkenly laughing behind your hand as you look over at him. 
Dean – or Jensen, you’ve now been told his real name is – seems to wait patiently for your confession, and in the two or so hours you’ve been sitting together drinking and getting to know each other, you somehow feel like you’ve known him for years. Maybe that’s because of the porn, but either way, you’re actually about to say this out loud. 
“The audio that you released today?” you prompt, and a smirk grows over Jensen’s plump lips.
“Yeah…” he prompts. 
“Well, I didn’t get to finish it, but let’s just say I started it in work… in a bathroom stall… and I’m still a mess. I was dying to get home to finish it.” Your confession doesn’t leave you as embarrassed as you thought it would, not when Jensen only smirks harder, and then bites his bottom lip as his green eyes look around the bar. 
“Well… why don’t I just… show you what the rest was like?” he asks, blinking at you. 
“What?” you ask, feeling yourself beginning to sober up at just the very thought of what Jensen’s implying. 
“What if we… y’know, re-enacted it?” 
*
“So how far did you get?” Jensen asks, breathing against your neck.
You crane it, pushing your head back further into your pillow as you moan softly, dragging your nails through the soft hair on the nape of his neck. 
“Not very, you’d just pulled out a vibrator,” you explain breathlessly, your heart thudding in your chest. If this man is this good at kissing, you’re not sure you’ll survive the rest of it. And you already know what a filthy mouth he’s got from the dirty talking. And from talking to him tonight, you were more than excited to find out that his audios are a true reflection of his own kinks.
“Do you have one?” Jensen prompts, and you blindly reach under your bed for the box that holds your toys, throwing the lid off carelessly and wrapping your hand around your favourite vibrating silicone friend. 
You produce it in front of you, stopping Jensen in his tracks as he smirks, taking it from you and throwing it to the bed next to you both. 
“I don’t have a cock ring though,” you add with your own smirk, and Jensen chuckles lowly. 
“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” he tells you smugly, taking your hand and pushing it under his boxers. Your hand meets soft, warm velvety skin, and as it gets a little lower, you feel the rubber ring at the very base of his swollen cock. 
“Do you always go to bars wearing one of those?” you sass, wrapping your fingers around his erection and growing pleasantly surprised at the thickness. 
“I had it on for the audio this morning, y’know, for authenticity, and figured I’d leave it on because I was so horny. Meeting you was just the bonus,” he explains. 
“What else do you do for authenticity?” you tease, gasping when Jensen’s teeth sink into the delicate skin on your neck. “Do you…” you struggle to regain your composure, grinding your core up against his bare thigh, your slick coating his skin. “Do you actually eat pussy?” you finally manage to ask. 
“Unfortunately not. It’s been a while since I got to eat a pussy… don’t mind if I fill up on you, do you, baby girl?” 
“No, Daddy,” you whimper, not even ashamed at how quickly you submit to him. 
“Oh, someone’s been listening to my work… such a good little whore, f’me, aren’t you? Bet you taste fucking delicious.” 
Suddenly, Jensen’s face is gone, and you feel his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs backwards, spreading you open. He doesn’t waste any time dining on your pussy, making sounds far more obscene then the audios could ever capture, and just when you thought this man couldn’t get you off any harder, you’ve finally felt his tongue for real, the stubble on his face rub along your delicate skin, you’ve finally felt exactly what this man can do to you. 
Your fingers comb through the hair on the top of his head, and Jensen only ever pauses to bite and suck on the flesh at the insides of your thighs, before returning to licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Your back arches into his touch, and you nearly lose your mind when you see him blindly reach for the dildo you’d given him, turning it on to a low rumble as he presses the tip to your entrance. 
“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he growls, his voice slightly deeper and far more reminiscent of his “Dean” persona. 
You moan loudly, bucking your hips desperately as he begins to fuck you with your vibrator, and you find yourself torn between wanting his mouth back on your pussy, and wanting his cock replacing your toy. Amber’s right, sometimes you just need the real thing. Especially when the real thing is as tempting as Jensen’s. 
“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling his mouth back on your cunt in an instant, and he laps at your arousal and moans loudly around your clit when he sucks it between his lips. “Holy fuck,” you shout, staring up at the ceiling, not sure you’re even going to survive this. 
Jensen’s rutting against your mattress, but seems to be in no rush to finish eating you out any time soon, and your thighs tremble either side of his head as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface. 
“That’s it baby,” Jensen pauses for a brief second to say. “Cum f’me,” he growls. “Cum on Daddy’s tongue, c’mon, perfect little cunt, tastes so sweet, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking up grinning at you like the devil. 
“Yes,” you whine, encouraging his mouth back on your clit as he now fucks your vibrator in and out of you so much better than the machine has ever managed to. 
Jensen doesn’t stop to talk again, he just hums and moans against your skin until you’re cumming hard and fast on the toy, and he’s quickly removing it to lap at your juices that are practically flooding out of you. 
As always when you listen to his work, your first orgasm does little to stave off the arousal he’s elicited from you, but luckily, it seems Jensen’s not done with you, because he licks his lips clean and hums, rising back to his knees between your legs. He begins stroking his cock in his hand, his eyes several shades darker as he looks down at you. 
“So,” he smirks, guiding the tip of his cock towards your soppy entrance, only teasing it with his tip before tapping the heavy length on your sensitive clit, making you squirm. “Which of my audios should we re-enact next?” he asks. 
“Any one that requires that inside me,” you reply, watching Jensen chuckle under his breath. 
“I couldn’t agree more.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
Text
more than everything else
For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic
💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍
“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.
Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.
“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.
Sweat dripping down his chest.
A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.
His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.
“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”
“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”
Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”
“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.
“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”
“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”
“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.
“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”
“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“
“Marry me.”
Steve froze, his eyes widened.
Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.
Shit, maybe he could do that still.
He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.
“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”
“What-“
Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”
Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.
“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”
“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”
“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”
“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”
That was a hell of a thought.
Husbands.
“You’re sure you want that?”
“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”
“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”
“Hey!”
“I love you.”
It was that simple.
“So. My reward?”
“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”
“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“
“Eddie, not-“
“The kitchen table!”
Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”
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msbigredmachine · 4 months
Text
Warm (Jey Uso/OC)
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An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.
PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.
A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!
Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.
Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.
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"Hey girl, got a sec?"
Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"
"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."
"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."
"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"
"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."
Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.
Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.
"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"
"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.
"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."
She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.
"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.
"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.
"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."
Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"
"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"
"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.
"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.
His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."
"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."
"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?
Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"
"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"
"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.
"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.
Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.
She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"
"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.
"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.
Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."
She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.
As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.
"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.
"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.
She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"
"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"
Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.
"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.
Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."
He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.
"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.
"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.
Being here is a bad idea.
"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.
"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.
"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"
He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."
Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."
"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.
"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."
"And you know this, how?"
Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.
"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.
And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.
"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.
"What roster?"
Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."
"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.
"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."
The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."
The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.
But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.
"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"
Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.
The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.
Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."
"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.
"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."
"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.
"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.
"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.
"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.
Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.
"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.
"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.
"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"
Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.
Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.
The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.
The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.
"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.
"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."
His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.
Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.
"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.
"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.
They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.
"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.
"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."
"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."
She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.
After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.
Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.
Fuck.
"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.
Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"
He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.
"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.
Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.
Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.
Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.
Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.
She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.
Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.
Good point.
But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.
'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.
With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.
She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.
"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.
"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.
Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.
She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.
Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.
"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"
"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.
"Fuck, Malia..."
She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.
"Mmmph..."
"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."
"Joshua...Daddy..."
"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.
"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.
"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.
"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"
Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.
"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.
"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."
Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.
Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.
Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.
"What?" she pressed.
Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.
"I love you."
She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.
"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.
"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."
"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.
"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."
There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.
"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.
"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.
Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.
"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.
"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.
"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.
"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.
"Fuck, Joshua..."
"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.
"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.
The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.
Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.
The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.
"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.
Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."
Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.
"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.
"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."
Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.
Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."
"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.
Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.
"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.
Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.
"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"
Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.
"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."
And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.
THE END
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anisespice · 10 months
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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 3
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one || two
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 
pairing: various x gn!reader [ osamu, sakusa ]
warnings: cursing, suggestive language, MDI. literally can’t be bothered to think of anything else, but feel free to let me know lol
notes: sooo i lied <333 i’ve decided to give suna his own chapter later on (srry suna lovers !!!!) i just wasn’t satisfied with how his was turning out, and it was the only roadblock delaying my progress soooo figured we’d just put a pin in his for now lol especially for those who were FROTHING for these two in particular (this for y'all ✨) hope you enjoy :)))
notes ii: nobody LOOK AT ME, this took me an embarrassingly long time lol. i’m not familiar with them, personality-wise, but i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
notes iii: this one’s got atsumu written all over it LMAOOO
tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy
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“Aht-CHOO!”
The bowl of popcorn nearly flew out your lap when you shrieked bloody-murder, body in fight or flight from the abrupt sound happening moments before a jumpscare in the movie you were watching. Head on a swivel, you soon realized the culprit wasn’t a psycho-killer in a ghost mask, but your darling OSAMU with his lawnmower of a sneeze coming through your front door.
You exhaled, relieved, but scared shitless. After pausing the movie, you glared down the hall leading to the door. “Seriously? You had to do that with your entire chest?”
Osamu sniffled, then muttered. “…Y’supposed to say bless ya before scoldin’ at your sweet and thoughtful boyfriend, y’know…”
“Aw, bless you, my love. And, fuck you.”
The brunette snorted, no doubt rolling his eyes as he toed off his shoes. Coming down the hall to soon reveal his handsome face, illuminated only by the bright tv screen, Osamu held up a large plastic bag filled with something greasy and delicious as the smell traveled up your nose. He grinned smugly at you intently eyeing the bag. “Fuck me, huh?”
You immediately doubled down, waving your hands. “Waitwaitwait I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it as in…fuck you’RE so sweet and thoughtful, and I love you so much..?”
Osamu hummed, taking off his ball cap to place it on your head. Shaking it a little by the brim, he winked. “Nice save, darlin’.”
He made way for your inspace kitchen to get dinner assorted with you trailing not too far behind. Your eyes eagerly ate up the widespread of all your favorites displayed on the countertop, practically hanging off his back since there was barely any room for the both of you in the tiny space. Popcorn long forgotten, your stomach sang a symphony for some real food, Osamu saving you the trouble of eating instant noodles for dinner yet again.
And without you even having to ask him for any of it, too.
Your gaze eventually locked onto the former volleyball player, eyeing him up with a newfound hunger that he was quick to pick up on while he popped a piece of fried chicken in his mouth. Looking down at you with a raised brow he patiently waited for you to voice your thoughts, a boyish grin growing on his face as he chewed.
You blinked. He blinked back, then chuckled lightly. “We communicatin’ telepathically, or somethin’?”
“If we were, you’d know I wanna suck you dry right now.”
Osamu.exe—E R R O R.
Man straight up inhaled the little that was still in his mouth, hurling him into a fit of hacks as he turned away from the food to fight for his life at your sink. Coughing up what he could into the drain with you behind him hitting his back for support, you couldn’t stop the evil, little laugh from slipping out seeing this as a form of karma for the scare earlier. Osamu fixed you with a weak glare once he calmed down, reaching over to pinch your cheek. “A warnin’ next time, would’ya?…”
You winced, but mirth still swam in your eyes. “Your only warning would’ve been your pants around your ankles-”
“Oi, quit that.” He gently grabbed your jaw to squish up your mouth, though it didn’t repress the cheeky grin you wore. The brunette did his best to remain unfazed, but the flush across his face was evident, your words clearly effecting him. “…Jeez, at least ask me how m’day was before ya slut me out. Soundin’ like all them thirsty-ass comments floodin’ my socials all damn day.”
Osamu let go of your face to grab plates from your cabinet, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms with a raised brow. “‘m sorry…the what flooding your socials?”
He busied himself with fixing your plate, nonchalantly recalling the very incident that occurred the other day, “That dumb fuck-list or whatever, mixed up me ‘nd ‘tsumu in their little post. Had his ugly mug front ‘nd center, but had my name attached to this long-winded thread ‘bout me basically being better in the sack than him. Shit’s wild.”
“The fuck-what now?” Osamu handed over a healthy plate full of food, you absentmindedly took it but made no move to eat. He started fixing his own, acting as if he didn’t just delay your appetite with this information. “Y—…you’re joking right? There’s no way something like that exists.”
“Oh, t’s very much real. Read it with my own eyes,” he licked the spoon he used to spread sauce across his chicken. “What, ya sayin’ ya haven’t heard of it? Seriously?”
“You know I don’t care enough to keep up with the trends that go on around here. And with good reason, clearly. What’s even the purpose?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. But it’s got ‘tsumu givin’ me the silent treatment, so maybe it’s not that bad after all.”
“Pfft. He’s pissy because some random on the internet said you’re the better lay? How would they know?? You’re both happily taken, and I wish a bitch would.” You smugly declared, bringing your food to the living room.
Osamu grinned at your possessive tone, trailing behind you holding plate and soda cans in either hand. “Damn straight. But, wasn’t just some random, babe. We’re talkin’ millions.”
Had you not already gotten situated on the couch, you would’ve surely spilled food all over yourself. Jaw nearly to the floor, you blinked up at him, bewildered. “Nuh uh.”
“Yuh huh.”
“Holy shit.”
Osamu took his usual spot next to you, large frame nearly taking up most of the couch. With bellies empty, knee knocking against knee, and elbow nudging elbow, the brunette hummed contently as he soaked in his favorite atmosphere—Your voice, your warmth, you. Though too busy monologuing about the absurdity of such a thing going viral to notice his fond gaze, Osamu silently listened to every word as he began eating from his plate. Although, all that mushiness is soon pushed to the back of his mind when the next sentence fell from your lips. After you eventually found said post to see it for yourself, needless to say you had some…hot takes.
“How could someone write this and not cringe? I mean, I love you ‘samu, but a Dom? If only they knew how nervous you were our first time, it was so adorable.” You giggled, tossing some chicken into your mouth. “You are not that guy.”
Osamu’s chewing paused. Your laughter eventually died down.
You didn’t feel his stare earlier…but you were definitely feeling it now, Mr. Krabs. Suddenly, the same dread you got when anticipating a jumpscare resurfaced. A sinking pit in your stomach like a rabbit stumbling upon a fox—Clich�� aside, you fucked up. And you knew it in your bones the second your eyes locked with his, void of fondness and full of hunger despite his plate being half-eaten.
He swallowed the bit in his mouth, then spoke. “Sure ‘bout that?”
You mouth moved, floundered even, but nothing would come out. And Osamu didn’t rush you either, if anything he gladly watched you struggle while he continued munching away. “I—..I-I mean..I was just saying. Because…y’know, you never…we never really-”
“Mm. Jus’ cause we usually take things slow doesn’t mean you can’t get a hole fucked into your mattress, sweetheart. Keep tryin’ ya luck, ‘nd ya just might. Finish eatin’ first, though. Ya gonna need your energy.”
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SAKUSA couldn’t give a flying fuck about the list. He would literally walk away from someone mid-conversation if said topic got brought up. And don’t think that you’re the exception, either—Man parked and got out of his OWN CAR during the drive back to his place, refusing to get back in until you dropped the subject entirely.
“Omi-”
“No.”
“C’monnnn.”
“No.”
You giggled, “I won’t talk about it anymore, I promise.”
He had his back to you as you spoke through the rolled down, driver’s side window, trying to ‘pspspsps’ him back into the car like a stubborn cat. Sakusa knew he was being ridiculous, but he just couldn’t stomach anymore nonsense. Plus, there’s a bit of suspicion on his end whenever it came to talking about the accursed list—Sakusa saw it as a bad omen.
Anyone who talked about it within his circle, be it teammates or personal friends, miraculously found themselves posted up the following day like fresh meat on the market. Once he caught wind that not even taken people were spared from being thirsted over, his disdain merely amplified, as did his precaution.
“Baby, I’ll burn some sage back at your apartment to scare away the bad energy from my filthy words. Would that make you feel better?”
Sakusa huffed, looking over his shoulder to give you a good ole stank face—One you barely paid any mind to as you batted your lashes at him. He glitched. Had it not been for the mask he was wearing, you’d see the harsh flush that spread across his face. Too bad his neck was exposed, giving him away as you grinned knowingly. But, you weren’t about to distract him from the issue at hand, you temptress.
“Don’t patronize me. Besides, you didn’t say it at my apartment, you said it in the car. Would completely defeat the purpose.”
You blinked.
There was no stopping the laughing fit you fell into when his words eventually processed, borderline cackling. “I-I’ll sage the car then, how ‘bout that?”
The ravenette squinted, marching up to the car to stick his head in before pulling his mask down so you could see his heavy frown through your tearful hysterics.
“You’re laughing. You’ve doomed me to becoming targeted by perverts, and you’re laughing.”
“‘yoomi, PLEASE.” You wheezed, waving a hand at him for mercy. With a couple stuttered intakes of air, you did your best to pull it together. “Don’t you think…you’re being a little paranoid?”
Amusement colored your features when you made eye contact with the outside hitter. Sakusa rolled his, tugging his mask back on before re-entering the car. “We’ll see how funny you find it when we can’t be seen together in public anymore.”
“And why not?” You raised a brow, still giggly.
Sakusa buckled in, taking the car out of park. “Because. When I do get posted, I won’t be leaving the safety of my room until that shit gets banned.”
“Oh my god, honey, I promise. You’re worrying over nothing. If you were gonna be on the list, don’t you think you would’ve by now? I mean, c’mon, even Hinata got on it before you. Majority of your teammates did!”
“That’s exactly my point. I’m the only one left.”
The two of you continued a playful back and forth pretty much the whole drive, more so you teasing him than anything else. After a while, having had your fun, you gave it a rest much to Sakusa’s relief. “Can still burn some sage, if you want-” “You’re not funny.”
Your evening continued on as normal, him taking a shower while you busied yourself by looking for a show the two of you could binge. Although, even after the discussion from earlier had been dropped, your boyfriend’s words still echoed in the back of your mind like a mantra. ‘I’m the only one left.’
As much as you’d hate to admit, though never to his face, your over-suspicious companion had a point. Without the safety net of his more extroverted teammates being in the spotlight of rabid fans, what’s delaying the swarm of unsolicited desires now? Even with his sourtude, Sakusa was an attractive individual—The dark curls that frame his face perfectly, his piercing pools of obsidian that shred through you like paper, the beauty marks above his brow, his THIGHS. And those were just surface-level things.
Being one of the privileged few who’ve seen all layers of Sakusa, you couldn’t blame them for wanting to explore deeper into who he was beyond that cold exterior…in more ways than one. Who better to fill those burning questions than some horny randos with too much time on their hands?
But, he’s made it this far without issue, what’s there to worry about now?—*Bzzzzt*
You jolt slightly, the harsh vibration coming from the sofa table breaking you out of your thoughts. With a short glance at your phone, the lit screen revealed an incoming call from Sakusa’s cousin, Komori. You exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, reaching over to grab the device and answer it. However, as your thumb hovered over the green button, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder…why would he be calling you?
You shook your head, answering the call before your mind could wander. He probably just wanted to catch up, make small talk. A smile graced your face as you happily greeted him, “Mori! Hi, what can I do ya for-?”
“Has he seen it?? Am I too late??”
You froze, blinking widely in stunned confusion. Your silence must have been loud enough for the man to grow more anxious, calling out your name to regain your attention. “Uh…has who seen what?”
Komori exhaled, in what you could only assume was relief. “Thank God…you sound blissfully unaware. That means there’s still time. You’re at his place, right?”
You blinked, eyes looking around as if he could see you.
“Kiyoomi’s? Yeah, I am. He’s in the shower at the moment if you were trying to reach him. Is everything okay?”
Now it was him who turned silent. You waited with bated breath, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wracked your brain for every worst case scenario…but a small part of you already had an idea.
“It’s the complete opposite, I’m afraid.”
‘Kiyoomi Sakusa. 6’2ft of ?????. An enigma. We had to take our time this one. This tall, personification of a hand sanitizer bottle may appear to be disgusted and disinterested, but once you get past those disinfectant defenses of his…Lady in the streets, but a freak in the bed. Why else would he keep so clean all the time? It’s ‘cause he’s hiding an absolute FILTHY ANIMAL behind his mask (literally and figuratively) you cannot convince me otherwise. Definitely a Hard Dom, would degrade you for making a mess all over him even though he’s the one to blame; THRIVES when you get messy for him tho. Firm believer that he’d spit in your mouth, both as punishment and a reward. He won’t make much noise, you’ll think he’s doing taxes while deep in your guts, but just watch his face; homie is EXPRESSIVE. Aftercare could go either way, but he’d probably focus more on getting the sheets changed than cleaning you up. 7/10.’
You clenched the phone in disbelief, eyes watering due to the sexual word-vomit burning them the more you read on. It didn’t even take you long to find the dreaded post you were convinced would never manifest, refreshing the page multiple times just to confirm its existence. “Shit. I really did doom him to being targeted by perverts…”
“Huh??” Komori voiced. You merely brushed it off.
“Nothing,” you sighed. Taking the conversation out on the balcony in case Sakusa overheard, you had Komori on speaker as you attempted to do damage control. “Do the others know about this? Oh God, does Atsumu?? Knowing him, he’d surely jump at the chance to tease Omi with something like this.”
“Dunno. Just found out myself, and you were the first person I thought to call.”
You looked over your shoulder, peeking inside to see if the outside hitter was roaming around. There didn’t appear to be any movement, but there’s no doubt he finished showering by now.
Exhaling, you began sifting through your contacts. “We need to do whatever it takes to make sure he never finds out about the post. I’ll text everyone I know to help flag it down, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take before-”
“Who’re you talking to?”
Startled, phone nearly tossed off the balcony, you turned toward the sudden appearance of your freshly washed boyfriend, towel around his neck and adorned in lounge wear. Komori held his breath, as if he also were caught in the act even though he could easily escape with a mere press of a button. “Um…your cousin.”
“Okay, but…why’d you come out here? You wouldn’t have disturbed me if you took the call inside.” Sakusa raised a brow at your stiff posture, perplexed but concerned. “Something the matter?”
“No!” You winced at your own volume. His eyes widened slightly, making you nervously chuckle. Clearing your throat, you attempted to play it cool. “No, uh…just wanted to get some air while catching up with Komori, that’s all. W-why d’you ask?”
Sakusa squinted at you. “You’re jumpy.”
“J-Jumpy? Me? Uh.. that’s because…” Searching your brain for an excuse, luckily Komori had your back with his quick thinking.
“B-Because! We’re talking about the list! And t-they figured you wouldn’t wanna hear us, so-” SLAM!
Before he could even get the rest of the explanation out, Sakusa had already closed the sliding door. You and Komori shared a sigh of relief. You watched Sakusa’s back retreat into the living room as he sat on the couch, flickering around for something to put on to pass the time.
Just as suspected…still paranoid.
“That was close…”
“Super close. Think he bought it?”
You groaned, hesitant to take your eyes off him. “Won’t matter if he decides to check his phone at some point…”
It didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight, hopefully charging in another room. But, there was no point in wasting time worrying about that. You had some flagging to do. And as long as he had no reason to look at it, you’d be fine.
Sakusa, now bored with you occupied by something else, couldn’t help but to watch you longingly from the couch. You were speaking so animatedly, using your free hand to gesture, pacing back and forth. He frowned—How can that stupid list be more important than snuggling up with him? Yet another reason to hate it.
Exhaling through his nose he leaned back on the sofa, remote in hand as he looked for something to help pass the time. However, before he could get very far in his search, his phone rings.
Confused, he reached into his pocket. Instantly, his mood went from neutral to shriveled when he read the caller ID—Miya.
He had half a mind to ignore it, but knowing Atsumu he’d probably just keep calling until the inevitable happened with him turning up on his doorstep. Sakusa gave an annoyed huff, reluctantly answering the phone.
“Better have a good reason to be calling me this late, idiot.”
“Oh ho ho. Believe me, Omi-Omi. You’ll wanna see this.”
Back on the balcony, after the sixth time flagging the post for misinformation and harassment, you suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere that wasn’t there moments before. Halting your frantic thumbs, you slowly looked up from the screen as a cold chill ran up your spine; something didn’t feel right in the force.
You weren’t sure what made you turn back to look inside the room, but the moment you did…it was like the world had gone into slow motion—Komori’s voice faded into the background as he called out your name, drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding through your ribs at the sight of Sakusa on his phone, face contorted into what could only be described as pure humiliation as he stared into the endless abyss while on his knees.
Probably should’ve burned that sage when you had the chance.
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© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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teddypickerry · 2 years
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adding onto the Jess Mariano x reader where he has a crush on her, it’s sort of like how he was with Rory except he’s more touchy but not in an uncomfortable way, It’s like those guys that make excuses to touch you
𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄.
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pairing! jess mariano x fem! gilmore reader
word count! 2k
warnings! strong language
summary! in which your best friend jess pines for you by doing things for you <3
a/n! this kinda sucks but whatever. this is also unedited!!! promise i’ll edit it later. also WHY IS THERE LIKE NO JESS BLURBS ON HERE?? i’ve read all of them. help. if you want to be tagged everytime i post a jess fic or any fic really sign up for my taglist <3
THE AMBIENCE OF STARS HOLLOW had never seen the same since jess mariano moved to town. the charming town filled with chilling weather and almost burnt colored leaves were hardly the same. there was something about the leather jacket wearing boy that changed the traditional small town. maybe it was because he was the only atheist in town, taylor doose had spread around the town.
the moment you heard the words utter from the market owner you had huffed. it had never been fair to judge someone for their beliefs or views, unless they were actively hurting someone with their words or of course - physically. that's what you had been taught at least and seemed to have believed throughout all sixteen years of life. so the moment the town came conspiring against the new boy, you were sure to make sure there was someone on his side.
so when you came to work that morning you complimented his band t-shirt. and with that, you seemed pretty much in. it had been almost two months since the boy moved to the small town and you had nearly forgotten life without him. you'd grown very fond of him, despite the rest of the town's opinions differing. but luke enjoyed the two of you and your friendship. "it's good for him" the diner owner told lorelai gilmore, your mother, one evening. she never found herself agreeing but it was hard when she watched him chase you around the diner with an album in his hand. smiles brightly shone on both of your faces.
it was two days later that you found yourself wiping the diner counters after school. earbuds placed in your ears. a familiar melody playing throughout them, your favorite song. one jess had learned was your favorite his third day in the hollow. when you gasped excitedly when it began to play on the radio, singing along making him smile. a grin he quickly yanked off of his mouth when his uncle luke caught him. "sleep with a hanger in your mouth, huh? got a little crush, jessie? aw." he could practically hear luke's words.
so you scrubbed the counters, the sound of the diner bell being unheard as the boy entered. his jean jacket toppled over a flannel. truly channeling his inner john bender. it was easy to spot you. something about the magnetism you seemed to have on him. you were a goddamn fridge. and he truly believed that in a good way.
you nearly screamed when you felt arms around your waist, picking you up quickly. you were quick to realize it was jess as he lifted you off the ground, making you drop the cleaning rag onto the table. you swatted him with your free hand as an earbud fell from your ear. "what are you doing?" you nearly screamed at the boy as your interaction was now the lady liberty of the diner. "got something for ya'."
"is it on the ceiling? i don't think so. so just put me down, jess mariano!" he chuckled at your words as he set you on the ground. you were quick to turn around nearly falling into the boy not used to how close he was standing to you. there was a pretty smirk on his face. one you honestly couldn't stop thinking about. but the envelope in his hand had your attention much more. "what's that?"
"your will to live. picked it up for you off your grandmother's shoe," jess's lips curved at his own words as you fought a smirk. a hum released from your mouth as you reached forward for the envelope resulting in him reaching for it about his head. he couldn't bare the look on your face as you gave him your best puppy dog face. "jess," you whined. pulling the earbuds from your ears and sitting them on the table. "i will strangle you with these."
"but then we can't go see the strokes," he tilted his eyebrows as you furrowed your own. you stood frozen for a moment in confusion. there was no way you were going to see the strokes. you hadn't even able to get tickets the week before when they were being sold. despite wanting to go more than having a left leg. "okay that's a sick joke. even for you."
"me, joke? nev-a." jess smiled as he tapped the envelope to your chest. you had never been more confused as you reached for it, pulling it into your hands. he had taken a step back as you opened the envelope between the two of you. and there they were. two tickets to see the strokes. "jess...?"
"happy birthday," jess joked knowing your birthday was several months ago. you had wasted no time jumping into him, your arms wrapping around him as he wrapped back. picking you up in the process, before you pulled him back down. your arms wrapped around his neck as he laughed into your shoulder. there was doubt every customer in the diner was watching the two of you. the disturbance causing great entertainment for the eating folk. especially luke, who was stood in awe of his nephew. who seemed very selfless in this moment. first time for everything, i guess.
it was three days later that jess mariano found himself staring up at the sky. the dark shade of blue filled with stars that lit the night sky - but they had nothing on you. your beautiful face remained a thought in his mind all night long. until he we would see you at school, where he couldn't help but stare at you as you sat at your seat. smiling at him ever so slightly. he just wanted to hug you. he didn't know why. i mean jess was never one for hugs but god - he could hug you until the poets ran out of rhyme. in other words, until the end of time.
the next week, spider-man was at the stars hollow theater. so naturally, the two of you found yourselves clung together in a red love seat in the small room. several groups of people around you guys, all focused on the film. but jess couldn't keep his eyes off of you. a popcorn balanced in your lap, one he argued to buy you but you won that argument of course. your eyes were locked on tobey maguire while his on you. you noticed the moment you sat down how close he was to you. your legs touching as he leaned in a little closer. jess wasn't the guy to get nervous, no, but he was a little nervous around you.
so when you turned to him twenty minutes into the film, your eyes locking, his heart nearly stopped. "are you gonna watch the movie or what?" you whispered to him, a newfound confidence boosting through you. he could only admire how close your face was to his in that moment. and how much he wanted to kiss you. "hm, i like this view much better."
and with that, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in. your head leaned onto jess's shoulder nuzzling into him comfortably. and fuck, he would have thought he died and went to heaven.
nearly two weeks later was the concert. the two of you hadn't seen one another very often since the movie night. partly because you were stuck with your grandparents in maine for a few days, and partly because jess's feelings towards you started to mess with him a little bit. he didn't want to mess up whatever the two of you had first of all, and second of all, he had never felt this way before. sure, he had went on a few dates. but those were dates with girls. but you, you were so much more. you were his favorite person. so, he couldn't fuck that up.
but, the evening of the concert be sucked all his feelings down. not ready to ruin an evening the both of you looked forward to so much, over his feelings. a red baseball tee cling to his waist, his classic leather jacket over it to fight the cold december month. he leaned against the door as he knocked on it loudly, making sure you would hear.
the moment the door opened, he completely forgot the attempt of lost feelings for the evening. the way you looked in your tank top and jeans (and of course leather jacket) made his heart jump a mile. he decided in that moment, that he wanted you. he truly did. scratch that. he needed you.
"hey, jess." your voice was like a simple song turned to a symphony. you immediately noticed his hand on the doorway, his position giving you a great look of him. your heart also raced. god, you're both idiots.
"hey, y/n. you..." jess's voice trailed off as he gave you a small smirk, one that was too familiar. he let out a breath as he stood normally and stepped back. "c'mon."
you wasted no time shutting the door behind you, following him to the car. there was something off about him today. you knew he was avoiding you, you'd called him three times in the past week and everytime luke answered. "uh... he's busy right now, y/n. he'll call you later." spoiler alert, he never called.
the entire car ride reciprocated the interactions between the two of you in the past few weeks. silent, awkward, & non-existent. the radio hummed in the background during the hour drive. jess tapped along to the beat as you got lost looking out the window. it was forty minutes in that you finally glanced over at him. his eyes were on the road, his hand messing around with the radio. "are you gonna watch the road or not?" jess asked, mirroring your words from weeks before.
you let out a laugh, biting down on your lip for a second as you watched him glance over at you. with that pretty boy glance that made you go mad. "i like this view much better." you repeated his own words, a smile appearing on his lips. it was what happened next that made you nearly jump a mile. jess moved his hand from the radio, settling on some black sabbath. his fingers brushed your knee, warmly placing them above his knee. his hand cupped your leg, inching it up slightly. jess rested it directly in the middle of your thigh.
the smile on both of your faces spoke for the two of you. and god, it felt so good. the moment you arrived at the venue jess didn't let you out of his touch. his fingers intertwining with yours as you made your way with the crowd. his warm hands never left yours even when handing the tickets to the bouncers - which of course was a hassle. but you couldn't complain. because the way you felt when he touched you was something unbelievable and something you never felt before. you truly wanted to be his.
standing beneath the stage with hundreds of other people. but all you wanted to do was look at the boy beside you. the boy who bought you tickets for the show. the boy who punched the guy who said he'd have to "double bag" if he got anywhere near you. the same boy who snuck into your room last month when you called him up crying, to simply let you know you had someone. and the exact same boy who you were falling in love with. and who was falling in love with you.
the lights dimmed as the band took stage. the shared smiles on both of your faces and squeeze between your hands was all you ever needed. several songs and several sweet interactions between you two as he watched you dance around and laughed along. singing together as he wrapped his arms around you. and simply simple shared smiles. it was when "last nite" started playing that you noticed him looking at you a certain way. the concert was ending soon. and your seeming fairytale coming to an end.
but the perfect ending to the perfect night had to happen at once. the sweet sounds of the band echoing throughout the venue. his eyes were locked on you, no care for anyone one else around the two of you. his hand gripped your waist, the other already holding your hand. you looked at him,  your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him in closer. and just like that, his lips pressed to yours. your lips moved together passionately something the both of you had both waited for, for months.
"i'm gonna take you home as my girlfriend."
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amhrosina · 1 year
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Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)
MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST
A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!
Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.
Word Count: 4.6k
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Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.
(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)
Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.
He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.
The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.
“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.
“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.
“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”
Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.
Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.
Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?
“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.
The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.
“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”
You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.
“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.
“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”
“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.
It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.
“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.
“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”
“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”
“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”
“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”
Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”
“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”
“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”
Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.
You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.
“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”
Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.
“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”
This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.
“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.
“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”
Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
“No.”
“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.
“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”
This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.
Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.
He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.
“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”
It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.
You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.
“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”
Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.
“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.
“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.
“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.
Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.
Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”
Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.
You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.
“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.
“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.
“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.
“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.
“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”
Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.
“Yes, God, please.” You whined.
When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.
Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.
“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.
He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.
Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.
You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.
The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.
“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”
You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.
“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.
He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.
“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”
You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.
You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”
“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.
“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”
You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.
“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”
“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.
“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”
Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.
“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”
His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”
“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.
“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.
Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.
“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.
“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”
Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”
You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”
“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.
“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”
You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.
When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.
“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.
You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.
“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.
Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.
“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”
“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”
Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.
“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”
Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.
“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.
“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.
“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.
“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.
Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.
“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“What?” He asked.
“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”
“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”
“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.
You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.
“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”
“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”
“You promise?”
“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.
“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”
“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.
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rowanthestrange · 3 months
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The Master And Margarita Jacket
(Matthew Sweet’s Doctor Who version…but with a frisson of Bulgakov’s)
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It’s done! With every bit of unphotographical glittery metallic paint that I can’t capture on camera even if my iphone skills weren’t rubbish.
@spoonietimelordy, @rearranging-deck-chairs, @bearinabandana and everyone else who Did The Reading of that one ‘I Am The Master’ novel but I’ve forgotten to tag because i’m so sleep deprived i can’t think any more but hopefully other people will, assemble!
Detailed closeups and explanations (with some spoilers) below:
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Starting front top right side (face on). -Margarita herself, biting a mushroom. A more Cockatoo beak than Macaw, with red face instead of white, to make what exactly she is more mysterious. -The Master Who logo here is just gold, any shading didn’t look right when it was so thin.
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Front top right pocket. Purple, of course.
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-Next section down are these three. The ‘Never Stop Growing’ patch is my second favourite patch of the bunch. So many Master Themes, and plot relevant. -Then the little ‘Best Buds’ with the heart in the middle. I was inordinately proud of that idea. (Buds, budding, bigenerated vibe). -And then ‘Obscene Lotus’. That’s mentioned early in the book, and while it’s just described as a big purplish lotus, there’s so much sexual charging in that scene that, well, you gotta.
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Me, reusing the ‘budding’ pun in a different capacity? It’s more likely than you think.
-The cover of the Penguin Clothbound Classic version of the original The Master And Margarita, that took multiple days to complete and so much agony. -The patch is a blank one that I bought, then painted the design to look like one of those stamps people sometimes put in books. Painted the border the same colour, then tea-stained it to look like old paper. Certainly in real life the colour comes out nicely. I couldn’t find his autograph (and sadly there’s an unrelated artist with the same name lol) but he got his doctorate in Wilkie Collins so I just looked up examples of that guy’s writing and tried to give it a bit of that vibe. Hopefully it’s the thought that counts. But hey, if anyone ever meets him and gets me a signature sample I can just redo it.
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General mushroom patch - I like the fire kind of vibe and the looming.
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To the other side!
So. You’re asking what’s with the daisy theme. Fair. So Margarita is also another name for a daisy in some languages. I choose to lean into that because it’s also the widely known symbol of Three - with that scene where he talks to Jo and recounts how a hermit living on a mountain helped dispel his depression by getting him to focus on the beauty of the flower (“and it was the most daisiest daisy”). Given that Three is essentially a character in the book, this felt like the vibe we’re going for. It’s perennial. It also is a healer of bruises and wounds, how can that not be relevant meta wise too to the Master’s new companion, hm? And okay yes, Mikhail does say he’s not a botanist, but if you can think of another way to get that message across other than botanical illustration page…
I like the patch because lightbulb, idea, full of mushrooms etc.
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-‘I Am The Master’ being the name of the book the story is contained in, plus Fun With Identity. -Next the one bit of Real Art that I attempted to copy in glittery acrylics - Magritte’s ‘The Treachery Of Images’ or more commonly known ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’. The story not only of the Master’s experiences recently, but the story’s themes of hallucinations and deceptions; as well as being the symbol of Russian!Brigadier. -This patch is great isn’t it? A play on the Master’s apparent alcoholism or Russian blending in as you prefer, and of course, The Lighthouse of Martin!Doctor fame.
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-Mikhail’s guitar for playing Brown Sugar and other ominous inference songs. -The formula triangle of Love, Food, and Music (I couldn’t think of a self-evident way to show his approach to food - Russian dumplings are, well, not exactly distinct). On its side so the glittery pink triangle points in a certain direction because he’s escaped places and I can do ominous inferences too Sweet. -Maybe controversial? There is a failed love story component in here though, that I just couldn’t leave unmarked. The Doctor, K’vo, and Jo all have their parts to play in that.
Now for the arms:
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Here’s the right-side looking-on arm. -I repainted this mushroom patch to be the orange and green of K’vo’s. -You’ve already seen the long image of it above, so here’s just a snippet closeup of the motif that goes along both arms. Daisies linked in a chain with the words ‘daisiest daisy’ (if you wonder why everything’s outlined by the way, a) i like the style, and b) it makes glitter infinitely more legible and clearer to see if there’s a dark matt border around it breaking it up, especially with something as variable coloured as denim). There’s the sunflower in the middle because Margarita loves her sunflower seeds.
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This is the other arm. Margarita holding a margarita in a margarita. What’s more to add? I used my shittest white (mixed with my fabric medium as everything else has been at every step) rather than @yesokayiknow’s excellent suggestion of Liquitex, which has saved me everywhere else, including those light patches. But here shitty kids basics acrylic is translucent enough to do some excellent work pretending to be glass and ice. The parrot patch has been altered to make the beak entirely black and her face red instead of macaw white, to keep her species ambiguous as literary theme demands.
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To the back!
This Master Who logo is bigger, so it has the Master’s purple highlights like bruising.
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Here is a small UNIT patch I modified to be a Russian one, globe focused on their continent (roughly). Sweet just translated the word ‘unit’ for Russian!Brigadier’s group, and the text is the re-cyrilliced version of that.
Skipping to the bottom…
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Here referencing O’s collection of Doctor Information, Sweet adding to that with having distinct scrapbooks. ‘Manuscripts Don’t Burn’ is a line from Bulgakov’s The Master And Margarita (spoken by Satan in fact, mhmm) and became something of a rallying cry for oppressed Russian artists. I have ‘Author Unknown’ for the obvious meta with his and the Doctor’s memories, and likewise, the fact that flames are clearly present and burning lets the viewer come to whatever conclusion they like. #133 was chosen for the simple fact that in my copy of Bulgakov’s novel, and the one depicted on the front of the jacket, it is page 133 which starts the chapter The Hero Enters, where we meet The Master who has renounced all other names (who is very much, as Interference notes, the Doctor). They are glitter paint titles done on Hemline repair patches, black, brown, white, and navy blue. I know anything too painty on that area of the back will risk a lot of wear, and these are easily replaced when necessary (if still hours of lettering).
To the left most side…
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This was the most expensive patch I bought, £12. But worth it. The mushroom stalk is silk.
Here I depicted in silhouette the scene of the Master climbing up to the Doctor on the giant mushroom. I chose silhouette so as not to draw the eye too much. I also added some 2ply black-black glitter cotton as part of his climbing equipment, attached on by some silver stitches for the…things I can’t remember the name of. It gives it a bit more 3D effect, but also keeps the thread close enough it shouldn’t pull on anything.
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And at its base we have a reference to Mikhail’s chosen middle name. I chose to believe it’s relevant, Sweet’s too deep into this for it not to be. This is a cover I edited to highlight the namesake who actually travelled Russia and collected the tales of this book, and indeed, it does include the story of Koschei The Deathless. I edited the robe to be red instead of its original yellow, and added the quintessential Time Lord collar. But I think it’s perfectly passable. This is iron on transfer paper (dark) onto a very light grey polycotton to turn it into a patch. It…*cough* hasn’t had its edges finished or strictly been attached yet, but that’s a bit of handwork I can do as and when.
So finally back up to the middle
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I’ve expanded out @spoonlesss-artbook fantastic angel-winged Margarita’s Master art. The Redbubble bag was only that big as it was (hemmed with bostik fabric glue like a true pro and attached as a panel) so it cut off a little, and it didn’t go the whole way anyway, so now we get some endings of the feathers, some all the way up to the arm of the jacket. I tried to blend it into the fire, one creature of both. And trying to get a multidimensional feel, boundary breaking. And again, very glittery irl so plays very well with the fire theme. It was fun when it came to colour-matching particularly the blue wing at the top, because the glitter gives it a bit of a sheen. I blunted it with a few careful washes of black so it still sparkles but is the right colour in most angles.
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The Redbubble edit cuts @spoonietimelordy’s signature, so I copied it from the original and moved it over to the left side in some sparkly silver. Also internet doxxing my real life self on the bottom of the back as my own signature.
Doesn’t look like the sort of thing that would take weeks when you see it all together, but I’m really happy with it. I’m so grateful for everyone who’s shown their brilliant art to me and shared posts about painting all these years, cus it allowed me to absorb stuff and let me come out of the gate swinging! It feels thoroughly addictive. Even if I only know ‘use tiny brush’ for almost everything and glitter metallic is great for hiding sins. (And a ‘Ha!’ in the face of my mother keeping me away from it my whole life because of mess - I never got even a single speck on any clothes that wasn’t this jacket. I could’ve been doing this for years rather than just picking up a brush at the age of thirty-damn-one. But at least I’ve got it now).
And thanks to Matthew Sweet for feeding the worms in my brain too.
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rintarolovebot · 1 year
Text
GROCERY SHOPPING
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summary in which you forced took your husband out for a grocery run and he takes advantage of the fact that you love him and can’t say no to the snacks he sneaks into the cart.
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warnings/tags none. timeskip!suna. implied female reader (as the daughter called them mommy on the phone).
author’s note i’ve said it before and i’ll gladly say it again. i’m so in love with this man like ugh i can’t my heart just swells whenever i think of him i don’t think that’s good but he makes me happy.
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“what is that?” you ask as he put down yet another pack of something inside your shopping cart. he has been at it ever since you two entered the grocery store.
he looks down at the pack he just placed as if he was not the one who picked them off the shelf. “gummy bears,” he says nonchalantly.
you raised your brows, “you seriously need more gummy bear packs from a different brand?” you asked.
he shrugs and walks towards you, giving you a kiss on the temple. “yeah..” he kisses your forehead, “i like both brands.”
you sighed and let him be. as always, the essentials only list you have made beforehand was now long forgotten. although, the cart is almost full of the ingredients you needed, so why not let your husband put the snacks he wanted in the cart too?
just as you thought of it, your husband comes into your view and puts down five bags of chips. you furrowed your brows as you looked at the chips then at him.
“five?”
“yup.”
“…”
“…please?”
you rolled your eyes yet your lips betrayed you as a small smile appeared, making him smile as well. “sure, yeah. get me some too please,” you said.
his smile grows wider, gives you a kiss before passing by and walked off to his previous location — the chips aisle.
your phone starts to vibrate, indicating someone was calling. you grabbed your phone from your pocket and answered the phone.
“hello?”
“hi mommy!” your daughter greets from the other line. “i did my homework today!” she enthusiastically informs you.
“you did? aww.. great job, my love! let mama see when me and daddy get home, okay?”
“yes, mommy!”
you smiled. “mommy has to go now, alright? i love you,” you said as you heard your little girl giggle at the other end.
“i love you too, mommy. bye bye, see you and daddy!”
just as you ended the call, you spot your husband with a frown and more chips in his hands. you chuckled and pushed the cart towards him so he could easily drop down the items he had in his hands.
“you didn’t let me talk to her,” he mumbled. you looked at him as you put both of your hands on his face to caress it, “i’m sorry, she just told me she finished her homework.. and i didn’t know that you were coming back so soon.”
he sighs and kisses your forehead before dropping down the chips. “you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbled as he rolled his eyes and takes control of the pushing of the cart.
“oh, trust me..” you looped your hand through his arm as you hugged it while he pushed the cart. “i know.”
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end note my author’s note r always just side thoughts and random shit but hi hello!!! how are you guys doing? <333
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Text
TTD - First Meeting 2/4
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end
Part 2, sequel of this. This Hero and Villain have now their own tag and masterlist.
*
Hero woke up and they didn’t like that very much.
The ground was hard under their head, and they winced. Their fingers unwillingly clenched and grasped some gravel.
Wait a minute. That meant they weren’t in a room. Not theirs, anyways. Come to think of it, where were they and what happened ? Their head hurt. They touched their forehead gently. There was no blood, and it looked like it was in its usual shape. Still, it hurt.
Maybe the next step was standing up, come to think of it. So they did. Stretching up, they clasped their tongue, trying to focus. It had been a while since they had felt this sluggish. They were in a little street. Okay. That was an important piece of information. So, they were going back from their last job (stopping a robbery, nothing serious) when – when – they forgot.
How could have they forgotten ?
They stayed still. Apart from them, there was no one in the street. Everything was quiet. And, possibly, very wrong. Something was missing. Hero was quite sure that it wasn’t a street before, but a dead end. What was blocking the way before was a two-storeyed building, full of people. Now it was... gone. It hadn’t been demolished or anything. There weren’t ruins or even rubble around. There just wasn’t a trace of it, as if it never existed. It was the right street though, and if they struggled very hard to remember, they were inside just before. There were just fragments of memories. A thief sulking in a corner, their hands tied up behind their back. A smile from an old lady. A warm cup of tea into their hands and the odor of the mint.
The next minutes were used to frantically search for the people who lived there, anyone. After a lot of swearing and some tears, they had to renounce. They sat on the ground, vaguely entertaining the idea of curling up and never getting up ever, when their phone rang.
“Are you okay ?” asked Other Hero. “There was an attack from Supervillain in your area.”
“Yes. Just where I was, in fact.”
“Oh shit ! How did you survive ?”
“I think my powers protected me. But a whole building is gone and I – I don’t understand what happened.”
“ It’s your first time with this guy, uh ? You’d better sit down, buddy, I’m gonna break it to you.”
Other Hero had that tone she always had when they passed their regular tests, just before obtaining the highest grades. Hero listened.
“His power is very simple, actually,” she declared. As you saw – or rather as you didn’t see - he can make things disappear. He only has to look at the zone, and everything is gone.”
“A whole building ? What about the people ?”
“I’m sorry, have I stuttered ? Gone.”
A drop of sweat slowly trickled down Hero’s forehead.
“I don’t see how I could fight that”, they finally said. Is there a way ? Has he got a weakness ?”
“Oh, you can’t. With your powers, that is. It’s best if you don’t try. At least you’re protected, but you haven’t got what it takes to bring him down.”
“You do.”
“Of course, but I’ve got my area to protect, you know. Tell you what though, I’ll call the agency and ask them if they can send you backup.”
“Thanks, but -”
They didn’t have the time to finish their sentence. Other Hero had hung up. Having backup was good, but with this kind of threat it couldn’t hurt to have a plan B.
The warehouse they had visited a couple of weeks ago was not far, and still standing. With a bit of luck, it was still Villain’s lair. Hero hadn’t come back since. It wasn’t as if this villain seemed like a serious threat anyway. Even the place itself wasn’t that threatening, past the first impression. So they opened the door without much thought, and because they were still dizzy, they walked on a button without noticing. They only had time to gasp and protect their head with their arms when a huge cage just fell right on them.
There was a series of clicks, and when they opened their eyes again, they were surrounded by heavy metal bars. Spotlights illuminated their trap one by one while a booming laugh resonated in the room:
“You’re mine now ! Miiiiine !”
A dark shape appeared at the end of the corridor. The spotlights were strong, but they couldn’t lighten it up. Light seemed to avoid the black silhouette.
“I knew you’ve come back to taunt me, nemesis, but that was your downfall ! See what I could do in your absence ! Tell me, prisoner, am I harmless now ?”
Hero didn’t answer. They were still staring at the darkness. Villain had to clear their throat to get their attention.
“I said ! Am ! I ! Harmless ?”
“Uh ? Oh, uh, yes. I mean, no – I mean – what was the question again ?”
A grunt of frustration came out of the silhouette:
“You are into my claws ! How can you not pay attention to every one of my words ? I am the master of your life – nay, the master of your very fate ! Be awed !”
“I kinda am.”
The shape stopped its walk:
“You – you are ?”
“Yes. Do you control shadows ?”
“Only mine, but as it is the best, I do not care what others could offer me.”
“ And yet you could darken this whole warehouse”, whispered Hero. “And all the buildings you go to. I suppose you can make it as big as you wish. That’s impressive.”
“Extremely. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Imprisonment quickly taught you some manners.”
“Actually, I didn’t come to fight you. I came for two things. A warning, first.”
“Ah, it is to laugh ! They’re nothing but a pitiful prisoner, a mere prey at my mercy, but still they try to rebel ! Such audacity.”
“Supervillain is here.”
“You have to be more precise.”
“The one who can make everything disappear.”
“...shit. I mean, curses !”
“And he’s here to stay if I don’t do anything to stop him.”
“So you want to beg for your freedom ? What if all of that was an outrageous lie to deceive me as a way to mock me once more? ”
“That’s the thing, Villain. Even if I were free, I couldn’t defeat him. I’m not powerful enough. That’s the second thing I wanted to tell you. I need your help.”
“ Excuse me ?”
“Supervillain needs to see to use his power. But if the whole area is in your shadow, he’ll be helpless.”
“A poor plan, if I might say so. I only need to cover his eyes to blind him.”
“If you succeed to find him first, that is.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem. If memory serves, he had an awfully tacky magenta suit, even flashier than your orange jacket. But wait ! Why should I listen to you ? Why should I expose myself to the cruel outside and the crueler sun ?”
“Your warehouse might be on his way. And that’s the kind of act that can grant you a pardon from the agency.”
The silhouette recoiled:
“I neither need nor want a pardon. I am a devious malevolent being of pure darkness and I intend to stay that way.”
Hero wiped his forehead. They were getting tired.
“Okay, fine. We’re running out of time. What do you want ?”
“For starters, I want you to kneel.”
Hero tilted their head, confused:
“Why ?”
“You know. To acknowledge my superiority and your defeat, all of that good stuff.”
“Oh. Okay, if you want.”
Hero politely obeyed while the laugh resonated once more:
“Yes...yes ! Muahaha I am the unflinching and unbowed victor of our perilous fight !”
“Uh-uh, sure. If there something else ? I think that we’re running out of time here.”
“Pledge your allegiance to me.”
“What ? But I’m a hero. I can’t.”
“Then I won’t help.”
Hero actually felt a twinge of remorse. That was a promise they were going to break, but then again, it was going to be made under duress.
“What would you make me do ?”
A moment of silence ensued.
“I don’t actually know”, admitted Villain. “It would be my first time someone would submit to me, I don’t go outside much. The very thought of another soul touching my tools and my creations makes even my dark soul shudder.”
“I could go shopping for you. This way you won’t have to scare citizens.”
“Using your own money to trade for the goods I decide you to get to sustain my mortal body ?” asked the voice which was suddenly a lot more cheerful.
“You really don’t like to go outside, uh ?”
“Hush, prisoner. It is decided, then. I shall fight this obnoxious magenta menace who…!”
Despite the heavy doors, a piercing scream from outside made them both start. Hero jumped on their feet.
“...And the sooner, the better.”
*
Sequel here
Back to These Two Dorks masterlist.
Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.
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all-the-things-2020 · 4 months
Text
Late Night Talking
A Dieter Bravo x OFC fic
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Notes: Title comes from the Harry Styles song. I heard it on the radio one day and the line “Now you’re in my life, I can’t get you off my mind” just screamed Dieter to me.
My Dieter is (mostly) sober and trying to put his life and career back together after hitting the bottom during the filming of Cliff Beasts 6. He is still a menace but he’s working on it. There will be comedy, angst, fluff and possibly some smut (not sure how explicit my narrator will get).
Narrator is an original female character loosely based on myself. She is around Dieter’s age, not thin, and introverted. He turns her life upside down and she’s not quite prepared for it.
Tagging @rhoorl because her Dieter in “Working Title” inspired me to start this fic!
Chapter One below the cut
I met him in a bookshop, of all places. Not exactly the environment you’d expect, but sometimes fate works in mysterious ways. Bookshops are one of the few places I frequented where it’s even remotely possible to meet a man. I’ve never liked bars or clubs; too noisy, too many creeps trying to be charming and getting too hands. As an introvert, I prefer quieter surroundings, like bookshops, museums, and botanical gardens. Not exactly hot spots for single guys, but I wasn’t trying to meet anyone. I was always open to whatever might happen, though.
I was in The Last Bookstore in downtown L.A. It was the first day of my summer break and I’d challenged myself to get out of my box a little and do things I’d never done before. I’d taken the train into the city, which I’d never done by myself. Of course, once I got into L.A., I ended up in my preferred habitat, surrounded by books.
I had spotted a book on my to-be-read list on the top shelf. Being petite (the polite way of saying I was short), I couldn’t quite reach it. I was debating whether the shelves were structurally sound enough for me to try standing on the bottom shelf to reach it when I heard a low, warm voice behind me say, “Let me.”
An arm reached up, easily plucking the book off the shelf and handing it to me. “Good choice,” the voice said. “That’s one of my favorites.”
I knew that voice. Turning to see the man who stood next to me, my suspicions were confirmed. It was Dieter Bravo. He was wearing a baggy gray t-shirt, a well-worn pair of jeans and some god-awful Crocs that had seen better days. His hair looked like he’d forgotten to comb it that morning and his scruffy beard and mustache could use a trim. But he was wearing glasses and his deep brown eyes were looking directly into mine, so that was all I saw.
“Thanks,” I managed to say, hoping I wasn’t blushing or anything ridiculous like that.
“No worries,” he said with a smile. He indicated the small stack of books in my hands with his chin. “You’ve got good taste.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” I said. Real smooth, doofus, I told myself. I tried to start over. “I read a ton of YA for work, so I’m trying to read more ‘grown-up’ stuff during the summer.”
He leaned against the bookshelf, his broad shoulders blocking the aisle. “YA?,” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Young Adult,” I explained. “I work in a high school library. A lot of it is really good, but after nine or ten months of dystopian love triangles and hot werewolves and teenagers with weird diseases falling in love, I find myself craving something more substantial.”
He smiled again. “I can imagine,” he said. “So, a librarian, huh? Oh, I’m Dieter, by the way.” He held out his hand and I shook it. It was huge and warm and made my knees melt.
“Um, yeah, I know,” I stammered. “I recognized you. I’m, ha, a big fan of your work.” I felt like a complete idiot as I stumbled over my words. “I’m Emily.”
“Well, Emily, this might be a dumb question, considering your line of work, but do you come here often?” He chuckled as he seemed to realize how cliched his questions was.
“Actually, this is my first time here,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to visit this shop, I never got around to it. I live out in the boondocks, so I don’t get into L.A. very often.”
“It’s great,” he said. “I don’t get here very often, though. Always too busy, it seems.”
We chatted for a bit, about the books we were buying, and favorites we’d both read (and made a few recommendations to each other when we mentioned titles the other hadn’t read). Then the conversation turned back to bookshops.
“I usually end up at Barnes & Noble,” I admitted. “There’s a good indie bookseller in Riverside, but it’s kind of small. My absolute favorite bookshop is Vroman’s in Pasadena. I don’t get there as often as I’d like, though.”
“Vroman’s,” he said, wrinkling his forehead. “I think I’ve heard of it but I’ve never been there.”
“Oh, you should go!” I said. I loved talking about my favorite bookshop and started rattling on. “They have all kinds of great stuff besides books. Plus a wine bar.”
“Whoa, books and booze? Sign me up.” He smiled that radiant smile I’d seen in a million photos, the one that always made me feel funny inside.
“Then you should definitely go.”
“Is that an invitation?”
I was stunned, but managed to speak without stumbling too much over the words. “Sure, why not?” Holy crap, he’s flirting with me!
Dieter pulled out his phone. “Let’s see,” he said, scrolling through the phone. “Um, I’m free Friday evening. I have a meeting at two, but I should be out of there by four at the latest. It’s in Burbank, I can probably make it to Pasadena by five, if that works for you?”
My tongue felt like it was swollen to twice its normal size. Was he actually asking me out? Or had I accidentally asked him? “Um, yeah,” I stammered. “Friday’s good, yeah.”
“Okay, then.” He tapped away at his phone and then slipped it back into his pocket. “It’s a date. Friday, five o’clock, Vroman’s.” He winked and now I knew I was blushing like a fool. He glanced at his wristwatch. “I have a meeting with my agent in an hour, so I’d better go pay for these and get going.” He pulled his phone back out and opened up the Contacts app. “Here,” he said, handing the phone to me. “Put in your number.”
I did and handed the phone back to him. He put it back in his pocket (oh, how I tried not to look too closely at that pocket, afraid he’d think I was checking out his crotch), then held out his hand again, wiggling his fingers. “Your phone?”
“Oh, yeah.” I pulled my own phone out of my purse and handed it to him. He opened my Contacts app and typed in his name and number. As he handed it back to me, our fingers brushed against each other and he smiled.
“See you Friday.” He turned and walked away, heading for the cash registers on the ground floor. I stood in the aisle for several minutes, staring at my phone. I had a date with Dieter fucking Bravo, and he’d given me his phone number.
I waited until he’d left the store, then went to the register myself. “Hey, you just missed Dieter Bravo,” the clerk said. “I got his autograph.”
I got his phone number, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. The kid behind the counter was thrilled to have had an encounter with a celebrity; he didn’t need me rubbing his nose in my good fortune. That didn’t keep me from texting my best friend Sam once I was back on the train headed for the IE. We’d been friends in elementary school before her family moved back East the summer before junior high. We’d kept in touch over the years, first by letters and now by text and Facebook.
<Went to downtown L.A. today. You’ll never guess who I ran into>
&lt;somebody I know?>
<Dieter Bravo>
&lt;Get out! Where were you?>
<The Last Bookstore, really cool shop.>
&lt;Were you cool about it? Please tell me you were cool about it>
<As cool as I could be, lol. Must have done okay. We have a date Friday night>
Sam replied with a string of emojis and punctuation marks. &lt;Don’t fuck with me, Em. It’s not funny>
<Totally serious. I have his phone number and everything.>
I clicked over to my Contacts and stared at the screen. The name “DB❤️” stared back at me. It was real.
<I want details!>
I sketched out the encounter for her.
&lt;You’re living in a rom com, I swear. But be careful. Heard he’s a bit of a wild child. Make him wear a condom. You don’t know where he’s been>
<Shut up. I’m not going to sleep with him on the first date. Eww.>
&lt;I know, you’re Miss Sensible Shoes. LOL>
It was joke between us that Sam had grown up to love wearing stiletto heels and clubbing while I preferred flats and quiet evenings. We always said it was a good thing we lived so far apart or we’d never have remained friends. And yet Sam was the one who was married with three kids and a job in finance, while I was still unattached and basically living paycheck to paycheck.
<I’ll tell you all about the date, I promise. Luv u>
I put away my phone and stared out the window, watching the backyards and alleys of Southern California flash by. What a world, where I woke up in my tiny condo thinking the highlight of my day would be a new book and lunch at Olvera Strett, and now I had a date with a famous actor. Only in L.A. I mused. It really is La La Land.
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merge-conflict · 4 months
Text
interview with a thief
tagged by @ghostoffuturespast thank you! I also decided to play with the framing of this one because it seemed like it'd be fun. please note that 'Hellman' within the text of this piece is actually Johnny in disguise, which hopefully becomes obvious after a bit of the interview. The number of line breaks means it's long under the cut, fair warning.
<>
Kerry Eurodyne has refused all media interviews since he moved into the penthouse suite at Maximus Turrim, but we were lucky enough to catch two of his associates: Dr. Anders Hellman and Valentina Myśliwiec, both former employees of Arasaka, at the Regis bar. They agreed to an interview on the condition that they would not answer any questions about their current legal entanglement, Rogue Amendiares, or Eurodyne himself. They have also chosen the questions for this interview. Due to technical issues, no video or photos are available.
Dr. Hellman has been reclusive since his widely publicized break from Arasaka, and looks very little like the tall, polished doctor who once presented at prestigious conferences around the globe. Myśliwiec is a dark horse, but with the kind of studied intensity one would expect from Arasaka SpecOps. They seem to be old friends, spending the first few minutes of our time arguing about the contents of the questionnaire.
Thanks for agreeing to the interview, I really appreciate it.
Hellman: Sure, although just to be clear I’m only a bystander.
Myśliwiec: You’re never only a bystander. Magnanimous of you to share the spotlight with me, though.
Well, you’re something of an unknown to our audience, so it’s great to get a chance to know more about you.
Myśliwiec: Oh, well that is exciting.
Let’s start with the basics. Name? Nickname?
Myśliwiec: Valentina Myśliwiec. You need me to spell that? No? People usually call me V.
How should I address you?
Myśliwiec: Thief. Any pronouns is fine.
Thief?
Myśliwiec: Is that a problem?
No, just unexpected, given your background. Is that from your days as a mercenary?
Hellman: Mercenary? (laughs) Two-bit gonk at best.
Myśliwiec: Takes one to know one. And to answer the question: yes. It was a very transitory period of my life.
Hellman: (scoffing) Really?
You could change it to fugitive now, I suppose.
Myśliwiec: (laughing) Maybe I should.
So, what’s your star sign?
Myśliwiec: I knew you were going to ask me this but I’ve just forgotten.
Hellman: Libra.
Myśliwiec: How do you know that?
Hellman: I looked it up, right here. Not sure you’re very diplomatic.
Myśliwiec: If I was undiplomatic you’d know.
How tall are you?
Myśliwiec: Six two.
Where are you from?
Myśliwiec: Born and raised in NC. This is actually the furthest I’ve been from home.
Hellman: Damn, V. Now that’s a sad story.
Favorite fruit? Do they have fruit in Night City?
Myśliwiec: …Kerry Eurodyne?
Is that a question?
Hellman: Alright, wise guy, Kerry isn’t an option on the list.
Myśliwiec: Tough crowd.
Hellman: Mango isn’t on here either. There, strawberries. What’s with this list, anyway? Where are the bananas?
Myśliwiec: (laughing) What?
Bananas?
Hellman: What?
Myśliwiec: Bananas have been extinct for thirty years.
Hellman: I knew that.
OK. Moving on. What’s your favorite season?
Myśliwiec: Spring.
Hellman: And how long have those been extinct?
Fifty, at least.
Myśliwiec: At least.
Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?
Myśliwiec, Hellman: Coffee.
How many hours of sleep do you get on average?
Myśliwiec: Ten. Twice as much as I used to.
Even with Arasaka gunning for you?
Hellman: (waving his finger) That one’s not on the list.
Sorry. Can’t blame me for trying. Are you a dog or a cat person?
Hellman: She loves dogs.
Myśliwiec: Cat person. (peering over Hellman’s shoulder) You’d better have selected cat.
What’s your dream trip?
Myśliwiec: The moon. I’d love to see the Earth from up there.
Hellman: Ah, you are a romantic.
Myśliwiec: Don’t tell anyone. Can we strike that from the record?
Sorry, no.
Hellman: I’m going to select ‘outer space’. There’s no option for moon.
Who’s your favorite fictional character?
Myśliwiec: Hackerman.
Hellman: Who the hell is Hackerman?
Myśliwiec: The most powerful hacker of all time?
Hellman: Alright, better question: who the hell are all these people?
Myśliwiec: Let me see. Oh, definitely Maria the Destroyer.
Hellman: Hard to argue with a name like that.
Number of blankets that you sleep with?
Myśliwiec: Just one.
Hellman: Depends on how you define blanket. (Myśliwiec elbows him in the ribs.) Alright, alright, “one”.
What’s a fun fact?
Myśliwiec: Did you know there’s a kind of butterfly that preys on ants? The caterpillars pretend to be ant larvae and get taken back to the nest, where they use additional mimicry to act like an ant queen. They eat all the ant larvae, get big and fat, and then pupate right there in the nest.
Hellman: You and your disgusting bug facts. I’m not typing all that.
Myśliwiec: Well, what’s my result?
Hellman: It says Purple Force.
Myśliwiec: Absolutely not. Purple Force? I’m obviously Red Menace. You picked dog, didn’t you?
Hellman: What, you think I’d lie to you?
Myśliwiec: Uhuh. I guess that’s the end of our time.
Hellman: Your first interview. Not so bad, huh?
Not bad at all. Thank you for your time.
Tagging @corpocyborg, @corphoe, @gamerkitten, @dani-the-goblin The original questions for the interview are:
Name Nickname Gender Star Sign Height Nationality/Ethnicity Favorite Fruit? Favorite Season? Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Average hours of sleep? Dog or Cat person? Dream Trip? Favorite Fictional Character? Number of Blankets you sleep with? Fun fact?
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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Two (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)
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Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?
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Masterlist
Word Count: 4.1K
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU
A/N: Okay so the first chapter kinda flopped but that is okay, we shall persevere. I’ve already written half the chapters so there’s no going back now. Thank you so much to those who commented and supported the last chapter, I’m so glad you liked it. Let me know if you want to be added to either the series taglist or my main taglist!
“Well, well, well,” Robin began as soon as you walked into the video store. “If it isn’t my favourite customer.”
“You might want to cool it a bit there, Buckley. Vicki might get jealous,” you retorted, a blush instantly erupting onto Robin’s face at the mention of her crush.
“Have you still not asked her out?” Steve called from where he was re-shelving video tapes in the ‘new releases’ section.  
“It’s not that easy, Harrington, she does have a boyfriend, remember? Plus, last time I checked you were just as single as I am.”
“Woah, woah, woah, why are we attacking me now?” Steve approached the counter, smiling as he saw you. “Hey, Y/N. You guys were really great last night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that? I am in the band too in case you’ve forgotten,” Robin said.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want the compliment to go to your head. It’s already big enough.”
“Says you.”
“I saw you talking to a pretty girl last night, Steve,” you interjected. “Any luck finding the love of your life?”
“Oh yeah, Samantha,” Steve reminisced. “I don’t know. She’s pretty, but I just don’t know if she’s for me, you know?”
“It must be so hard for you,” you responded with a smile. “Having to reject girls left and right. Should I get you a stick so you can beat the hordes away?”  
“Excuse me for taking my love life so seriously. It’s not all about sex for me, you know.”
“How chivalrous of you,” you said before wondering over to a nearby shelf. “Do you guys have anything new in? I feel like watching something different.”
“You? Different? Please,” Steve responded. “I’ll recommend something and you’ll still take out something you’ve already seen.”
“Ghostbusters?” Robin interjected.
“Hmmmm,” you said.
“Sixteen Candles?”
“Hmmmm,”
“Back to the Future?”
“Oh, yeah!”  
“You’ve seen that film like 8 times!” Steve protested.
“You just need to be more in tune with the customers,” Robin teased as she rung up the tape for you. “What are you doing tonight? Did you wanna come to the movies with Vicki and me?"
“No can do,” you said. “I’m working tonight. Plus, I refuse to third wheel.”
“It’s not a date!” Robin quickly clarified. “At least I don’t think it is.”
“I promised Henderson I’d drive him somewhere,” Steve added.
“You two are boring!” Robin whined.
“And I thought I was his babysitter,” you said with a smile.
With a roll of his eyes, Steve flipped you his middle finger which caused you to let out a loud laugh just as the bell above the front door chimed.
“Speaking of the devil,” Steve said as you turned around to see Dustin, Mike and Lucas entering the store.
“Y/N!” Dustin exclaimed.
“What do you want?” you responded with a quirked eyebrow.
“Am I not allowed to be excited to see my friend?”
“You’re never excited to see me,” Steve interjected. “And I’m the one volunteering my time to drive to Eddie’s place tonight.”
“Stop being a martyr, Steve,” Dustin said before turning his attention back to you. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Working. Why?” you said suspiciously.
“By yourself?”  
“I’ll be with Meg for a little bit but I’ll be closing by myself. Why?” you asked again.
“Oh no reason. No reason at all,” Dustin said as a wicked grin spread across his features.
“Is it just me or did that sound super sinister?” you asked, turning back to face Robin and Steve.
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Robin responded. “I’d prepare for your shift to be eventful.”
“I swear to god if you guys rope me into another one of your prank wars I will not show mercy this time,” you said, pointing a finger at all three of the boys. Mike and Lucas turned to look at each other, something close to fear passing between them.
“No, no. Nothing’s going to happen, I promise,” Dustin said. “Just another boring night at the record store, I’m sure.”
You squinted your eyes at Dustin suspiciously. “You’re a weird kid, Dustin.”
He simply smiled back.
---
As much as you didn’t want to, you had to admit that Dustin had been right; your shift was indeed exceptionally uneventful.
It had been tolerable at first when Meg’s shift had overlapped with your own, for even though the girl was not the chattiest of people, you had grown to find comfort in the long stretches of silence that would often ensue when you were in her company.
“Did you read over those lyrics I gave you?” you asked, calling across the empty store to where Meg was tidying by the door.
“Yeah,” she called back. “I like them, but I made a few changes so that they fit in with this chord progression I’ve been working on.”
“Cool. You can show me at practice tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
And then the silence was back, interrupted by the sound of the record that was turning slowly on the record player by the counter. It was the first album of The Smiths, the melodic tune of Morrissey’s voice flowing throughout the store. You hummed along as you reorganised the sale’s bin, your finger tapping away subconsciously to the beat as it skimmed over each record.
“I’m off,” Meg said suddenly from behind you, causing you to jump slightly at the sound of her voice.
“Jesus! How do you walk so quietly?”
Meg shrugged her shoulders, her face emotionless.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and keep me company? I’ll be ever so lonely here by myself,” you continued.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I’m not,” Meg responded with a curve of her lips that could almost be considered a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, though.”
“Ugh, fine then, leave me to my loneliness!” you cried as Meg exited the store with a half-hearted wave.
The music continued to float lazily throughout the store as the sun continued to set, the little bell above the door periodically chiming every now and then as customers wandered in. You assisted the ones that looked lost and left others alone, their ears usually covered by the headphones of a Walkman so that it was clear they didn’t want to be disturbed. When the store was empty you allowed yourself to linger by the counter, lazily flipping through your notebook. The cover was black, the book looking wholeheartedly uninspiring from the front but containing almost all of the songs you had ever written. With a pen held in one hand, you idly scribbled within its contents.
When The Smiths album had finished you searched through the racks for something more upbeat to finish off the night with, pulling out an album whose cover had been worn down from excessive use. You smiled before pulling the record free, placing it gently upon the turntable before guiding the stylus into place. Freddie Mercury’s voice filled the store as you found yourself unable to stop from swaying to the tune. You looked towards the clock that sat just above the desk and smiled; merely half an hour left of your shift to go.
As you began packing up the store, you sung lazily here and there, oftentimes glancing around to make sure no customers had somehow wandered in unnoticed. With the broom in your hand, you made your way throughout the aisles, pulling the bristles along with you as you slowly began to accumulate more and more dust. At the familiar notes of the opening of one of your favourite songs, you couldn’t help but smile.
“Can anybody find me somebody to love?” Freddie’s voice sang, resounding throughout the store.
In one swift motion you leant the broom against one of the racks and hastily made your way over to the counter, hoisting yourself up and over it so that you could just barely reach the record player. With a twist of your wrist, the volume was turned all the way up, the music now blasting throughout the store.
“Each morning I get up I die a little,
can barely stand on my feet.
Take a look—take a look in the mirror and cry,” you sang, trying to cover all the different parts and failing as you meandered your way back over to your broom and picked up sweeping where you had left off.
Whether it was because the volume on the record player was turned up to its maximum or whether it was because you were completely consumed in the song, in the end it didn’t really matter. Either way you still failed to hear the chime of the bell above the front door.
“I work hard—he works hard—every day of my life
I work till I ache in my bones.”
The sound of shoes tapping against the floorboards was again drowned out by the sound of the music as a figure drew closer to you, the footsteps slow and hesitant until they eventually came to a stop a few feet behind you.
Eddie couldn’t quite help the smile that erupted onto his features at the sight of you. He thought it wise that he should probably make his presence known to save you any more embarrassment than you would likely already feel. But then you were singing once more and Eddie could no longer bring himself to do so. Your back was to him as you swept, your pulls of the broom languid and half-hearted so that you missed several spots upon the floor. And although Eddie could not see your face, he knew that you were smiling.
“I get down on my knees and I start to pray,
‘til the tears run down from my eyes.”
You continued to sweep as you sang, slowly making your way backwards as you dragged along your pile of dust. You were getting closer and closer now, Eddie realised, although as much as he knew he should, in that moment he seemed incapable of moving. It could have partly been because his legs had slightly turned to jelly now that he was back within your presence, but it could have also been because, somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted you to run into him, if only to feel you against him for the briefest of moments.
“Lord, somebody, ohhh, somebody.
Can anybody find me somebody to love?”
You were belting the note now, smiling as you did so, quite positive that you would have sounded far better had you taken the time to warm your throat up properly. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care as the music blasted throughout the store. Banging your head to the beat, you pulled the broom backwards quite forcefully this time to gather the mound of dust you had accumulated.
“Oof!” sounded from behind you as your elbow connected with something.
The sound that left your throat was somewhere between a scream and a choked cough that was wholly embarrassing as you scrambled away from the figure. Your heart was pounding now, thumping so loudly and so forcefully that you had to hold a hand up to your chest to make sure it didn’t rip right through your skin. Your eyes were wide, your breaths ragged and heaving as you glanced to the figure before you who was bending over, clutching at their stomach.
The mane of hair was the first thing you saw, and then it was the large brown eyes staring up at you from under it, paired with what appeared to be almost an embarrassed grimace.
“Hello,” Eddie said, his hands still clutched to his side where you had undoubtedly elbowed him.
And then it was your turn to be embarrassed as a heat crept up onto your cheeks.
“Jesus…fuc–sorry! I didn’t…you weren’t…the bell, I-”
You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at him, your heart still pounding, the urge to bring your hands up to cover your face almost overwhelming. Instead, you rushed quickly past Eddie and headed towards the counter, scrambling quite unceremoniously over the top of it until you reached the record player and moved the stylus until the music stopped. When you turned back to Eddie, the corner of his mouth was curved slightly upwards.
The silence was deafening.
“I-” you tried to begin again, the heat from your cheeks having in no way lessened. “I didn’t hear you come in. The bell…I didn’t hear the bell.”
Eddie was failing quite miserably at hiding the smile that threatened to consume his features as he watched you stumble, quite thankful that you wouldn’t meet his gaze lest you think he was laughing at you. He watched as you shook your head slightly to yourself, bringing your hands up to rub briefly at your temples.
“B-but anyway, sorry for all the trouble but we’re actually clo-” you began, looking up at the clock only to find yourself stifling a groan.
8:55PM.
You sighed, forced a smile onto your face before finally bringing your gaze up to look at Eddie.
“Can I help you find anything?”
Eddie swallowed a laugh as the tone of your voice changed; rising in pitch with a hint of fake enthusiasm mixed among it. But then he noticed that you were looking at him quite expectantly and he realised that although he had extensively prepared himself for this meeting, he had not quite thought this far ahead.
“Ugh…yeah! Yeah, I’m looking for...” Eddie’s gaze scanned the store. “I’m looking for…Metallica. Yeah! They’re new album!”
You furrowed your eyebrows slightly at Eddie before turning your gaze from his.
“That’ll be in the rock section,” you said, before rushing off unexpectantly so that Eddie found himself scrambling to keep up with you. You weaved expertly through the aisles before stopping abruptly, your fingers instantly coming up to flick through the rows of records that sat before you until you eventually found what you were looking for. “It’s a good album. Got some great tracks although the last two songs aren’t my favourite.”
“Are you joking?” Eddie questioned, not being able to help himself. “They’re the perfect way to end the album. They’re like the fusion of the savageness and beauty of all the other songs.”
Your eyebrows furrowed once more just as Eddie’s eyes went wide, the realisation of what he had just said hitting him all at once. He averted his gaze from yours, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“That’s…ugh…that’s what I’ve heard anyway,” he quickly tried to rectify.
“Uh-huh,” you responded to break the silence that had erupted between you. “Soooo…do you wanna buy it or…”
“Um,” Eddie stumbled again, not knowing what to say. He did not particularly feel like paying for an album he already had sitting upon his shelf back at his trailer. But then he looked up towards you once more, the record still held within your hands, and he could not quite allow himself to be weirder than he had already been. “Yeah, I’ll get it.”
“Cool. I’ll ring it up for you at the counter,” you said before rushing away from Eddie once more. Eddie followed you to the counter, watching as you concentrated on the large computer before you, clicking away absentmindedly on the mouse and periodically typing something into the keyboard. The silence between you had returned now and Eddie so wished you hadn’t turned off the record player even if you had been playing Queen.
“I’m, ugh,” Eddie said hesitantly as he tried to break the silence. “I’m Eddie by the way.”
“I know,” you responded, not looking up from the computer. “I was in senior year with you. We had Mrs Click’s class together.”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to furrow his brows. “You remember me?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Your gaze looked up towards him, suddenly serious. “Of course I do.”
“I-I just thought,” Eddie stuttered, feeling a heat begin to creep up his cheeks. “I don’t know.”
You turned your attention back to the computer a small smile perched upon your lips that Eddie found himself unable to look away from. “You’re a hard guy to miss, Eddie Munson.”
Eddie’s breath hitched, his blush now so vibrant he had to turn his head downwards in an attempt to get his hair to cover it. He cleared his throat and forced himself to stand up straight as he looked at you.
“I saw your gig last night,” he tried to say with some semblance of confidence.
You smiled again. “I saw you at my gig last night.”
Eddie shrugged his shoulders, trying to act nonchalant. “You guys were alright.”
You scoffed, turning your gaze back towards him. “Alright?” you questioned, acting offended. “That’s quite the scathing review.”
“Yeah, well, if you limit yourself to ABBA covers I can’t really rate you any higher.”
“What’s wrong with ABBA?”
“Oh, I don’t know, their music.”
You smirked upwards at Eddie now, crossing your arms in front of you as you leaned onto the counter; leaned closer to him. Eddie tried to keep his composure as the scent of your perfume suddenly encompassed him; something sweet and yet smoky that for some reason had his mouth starting to salivate.
“Just because somethings popular, Munson, doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Eddie said, bending down so that he was also leaning on the counter. For just a moment, he swore he saw a tint of red appear on your cheeks, but then you were rolling your eyes and turning away as you returned your attention back to the record that sat between you.
“So I suppose you think these guys are musical geniuses?” you questioned.
“Of course they ar-”
“Why?” you interjected.
“W-well,” Eddie fumbled, trying to think of a response. “They’re manipulation of music is legendary. They create art.”
“Art. I like that,” you said so softly it was almost a breath, another smile encompassing your features. “Do you want to know what I look for in the artists I choose to listen to?”
“Is it whatever’s on the popular rack at the time?” Eddie said with a smirk. He nearly laughed as you rolled your eyes, pulling away as you began to place the record into a bag.
“A story. Music is just another form of storytelling, and I think the addition of instruments only enhances the story more when it comes to the listeners emotional response.”
“Emotional response?” Eddie scoffed as he unfolded himself back to his normal height.
You looked up at him. “Have you ever heard a song that makes you want to cry?”
Eddie furrowed his brows at your sudden serious tone. “No.”
“Well then you’re missing out on the real beauty of music.”
Eddie found himself at a loss for words as he looked down at you. He thought he should probably say something profound, maybe disagree with you whilst he was at it. But as he opened his mouth nothing came out.
“That’ll be $15.”
Eddie blinked. For just a moment he wasn’t quite sure whether the conversation had even ensued between the two of you as you smiled at him, the bagged record extended towards him. He grabbed it tentatively.
“R-right,” he said, reaching into his back pocket to extract his wallet. As he handed you the cash, he made sure to do so in a way that would have your fingers brushing against his. And even though he was expecting the contact, he couldn’t quite help the racing of his heart as your soft skin brushed against his.
You hesitated slightly as you took the money, and as you realised what you were doing you tried to compensate by hastily shoving the money into the till. A silence settled between the two of you as you continued to look up at Eddie and as he continued to look down at you.
“Were you guys entering the Battle of the Bands?” Eddie questioned.
“Ugh, yeah,” you said. “Took me a while to convince the others since they’re pretty sure the judges won’t score us high cause we’re girls but-” you paused, realising that you were rambling. “Were you?”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot upwards, surprised that you were even aware of his band.
“Y-yeah! We are!” he exclaimed. “I guess I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” you responded. “So what does that make us then? Enemies?” you said with a laugh.
Eddie smirked. “I suppose it does. We probably shouldn’t be seen fraternising with each other then. Some people might think I’m giving you tips.”
You scoffed. “Who said we needed tips from a mediocre rock band?”
Eddie shot his hands towards his heart, pretending to be wounded.
“Mediocre? Now that’s a low blow.”
You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.
“You said we were alright.”
“That’s still better than mediocre.”
“Well that’s because we are better than you.”
Eddie leaned down towards you tauntingly. You refused to pull away.
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to let the competition decide.”
Eddie smirked down at you and you smirked back.
“May the best band win.”
And then you were pulling away, leaving behind the scent of your perfume that had Eddie urging to follow you. He inhaled deeply before leaning back himself, slinging the bag of the record over his shoulder.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Munson. We did technically close three minutes ago and I have places to be.”
Eddie smiled, walking slowly backwards towards the door. “You know I might just have to start coming here instead of the store across town.”
You smiled back. “And why is that?”
“Well, here I get great service and a show.”
A deep blush crossed your face, your smile dropping. “I swear to god, Munson, if you tell anyone what you saw tonight, I’ll murder you.”
Eddie smirked. “Next time if you switch the broom for an actual guitar I might leave you a bigger tip.”
“Next time it might be the broom I hit you with!”
Eddie couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him.
“Night, princess. Have fun with the sweeping.”
And then the bell was chiming above him as he left.
---
Eddie couldn’t quite wipe the smile from his face as he walked back to his van with a skip to his step, a record he already owned held within the bag slung over his shoulder. A mop of brown hair stared at him through a pair of binoculars from the front seat of his van as he walked, a toothy grin situated upon Dustin’s face as he noticed Eddie’s smile. At the sight of him, Eddie’s smile faltered, remembering all at once the purpose of the outing.
“So it went well then?” Dustin asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows as Eddie hopped into the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Eddie mumbled half-heartedly.
“So she said yes?”
Eddie turned to look at Dustin, confused.
“What?”
“When you asked her out? She said yes, right?”
“Ugh,” Eddie stammered. “No. Well, not yet. I didn’t actually ask her.”
Eddie turned his keys in the ignition and backed out of his spot with slightly more speed than was strictly necessary.
“What?” Dustin exclaimed. “That was the whole point of this mission!”
Mission. Eddie flinched.
“Yeah well, it didn’t feel right.”
“It doesn’t matter if it didn’t feel right. The competition’s a week away! You don’t exactly have time for everything to feel right.”
“Well then we’ll just do a cover for the first round. It’s not the end of the world.”
Eddie kept his gaze fixated on the road, his hands gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles went white. Dustin, noticing the silence in the car, turned his attention to the bag that sat beside him, the label of the record store clearly printed on the front.
“Ohh, what did you get?” he questioned, not waiting for Eddie to answer as he opened the bag and rummaged through. “Wait,” Dustin hesitated. “Don’t you already have this album?”
“Shut up.”
---
Songs Used:
- Somebody to Love by Queen
---
Main Taglist:
@alicetweven​ @juggernort​ @theh3aven​ @manamitoyota​ @mimiluvsualot​ @cherrypieyourface​ @kaqua​ @c0untryclub​ @goldencherriess​ @emotionaldreamer​ @givemethesleep​ @milkiane​ @miscreantsnopossoms​ @legendaryfestsoul-blog​
Series Taglist:
@grungegrrrl​
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