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ginnsbaker · 1 year

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (1/?)

Summary: Sequel to In Flames I Sleep Soundly; After the divorce, Wanda refuses to give you up.

Chapter word count: 5k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Masturbation

Author’s Note: So... this AU wouldn’t leave me. For my new readers, you don’t have to read the first installment . This can be read as a standalone. Title is based on lyrics of “This Love” by Taylor Swift

AO3 | Masterlist

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta

Next Chapter: Two

One

It’s not a god damn funeral, Wanda thinks as she stares at her black outfit.

With a huff, she makes the quick decision to reach for the zipper near the curve of where her spine becomes her head, and then pulls it down so hastily it gets out of track and refuses to budge further than her waist.

Shit, Wanda curses under her breath, wiggling her arms from its sleeves, which isn’t exactly difficult given her recent weight loss. At first she tries to shimmy her body out of the dress, but she only succeeds in getting stuck further and sweating under her pits. Unfortunately the weight loss didn’t happen around her middle, and she also couldn’t get it to move upwards and over her head. The options are to either fix the zipper or destroy the dress. Wanda picks the latter.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she starts to frantically cut through the silky material. Her heart races as she terrorizes the dress with fervor–grunting Sokovian words she’s surprised she still remembers–until the dress pools at her feet in tatters. Wanda feels her energy depleted after, and she crawls on the bed to lie face down, on her stomach.

To some degree, her recent outbursts are gradually becoming a concern, especially since she’s back in her old Manhattan neighborhood. The smallest, most insignificant things tick her off, and a densely populated city like New York is filled with them.

Like last week, when she was shopping at Trader Joe’s, and someone kept hitting her backside with their cart while waiting at the counter.

“I swear to god, if you don’t lay the fuck off–” Wanda’s ears burned when she looked over her shoulder and saw a frail, old woman who looked like she didn't have many years left in her.

“I’m sorry.” Wanda croaked out and then pressed her lips in a straight hard line.

“Oh, it’s alright. We all have bad days. But sweetheart,” The old woman warmly smiled at her and then leaned closer as if to share a secret. “You need to get laid.” She added like she’s giving some age-old, archaic advice.

Wanda’s smile in return was pasty, and she hurried to remove almost half of the stuff(not without receiving a dirty look from an employee who had to put them all back) in her basket so she could leave the counter as soon as possible.

The mysterious universe had a dark sense of humor. It was sex that brought her to this manic-depressive, freak-out-at-a-grocery-store behavior, and to be told by a stranger that she needed more of it was just the icing on top of this tremendous fuckery of a year she’s had.

Wanda turns on her back and closes her eyes for a minute. She doesn’t even know why she’s wasted an hour of choosing what to wear for the day she gets legally separated from you. And yet she couldn’t help but give an extra effort to look good for you. All she knows is the days she gets to see you are rare. She can count on one hand the times you’ve met since that fateful lunch at the diner back in Westview. She needs to look her best in these opportunities.

She needs to look her best, and hopes you’d notice.

Glancing back at her wide-open wardrobe, that’s when she spots it. Hiding in the furthermost end of her rack, is a decade-old sundress she’s kept all this time.

The memory rises unbidden to her mind, before she could stop it.

It was the dress she wore on her first date with you. She recalls picking it specifically because it’s green. She wanted it to match her eyes–your favorite part of her body. It made you gape. It made you go almost stupid with want, forgetting the way to the restaurant where you made reservations because you wouldn’t stop staring at her.

By the end of that night though, the dress was lost somewhere along the trip from the door to the bedroom.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You whispered against her swollen lips, breaking the kiss while your hands roamed all over her shaking frame. Wanda merely moaned and put her lips to your neck, kissing every inch of available skin to her.

You’ve known each other for years. It didn’t feel like you were moving too fast. Rather, it was a culmination of sorts–seemingly platonic hugs that lasted just a tad longer than they should, the way your eyes always found each other in a crowded room, kisses on the cheek that came too close to the mouth. And not to mention, the other people you’ve both dated in those times of being more than friends but less than lovers.

The pace was actually agonizingly slow. A slow burn that had put all other slow burns to shame.

You directed Wanda back to your mouth and the kiss that ignited again is its own kind of sex. God, she never really understood the fuzz about making out because her sexual experiences in the past didn’t really pay much attention to foreplay. For a while, she was simply content with the sliding of lips and tongues. But then you dropped to the floor and began pulling down her soaked thong, while your dilated eyes never left hers.

Wanda’s breath hitched at seeing you fall to your knees and gaze at her with incomparable reverence. How could you worship her when you yourself were so achingly beautiful?

She needed you to touch her soon or she’d go crazy. “Please.”

Her panties only made it past one ankle before you dove in to taste her for the first time.

Wanda of the present comes at the ghost sensation of your tongue against her throbbing clit. In truth, it’s just her fingers that brought her to climax while she kneels at the center of her bed, her ruined underwear down past her thighs. She bucks her hips a couple of more times before falling back to the mattress, spent.

That old lady was right. An orgasm does help.

The divorce is final.

Today, she signed away any legal right she has as your partner. As for everyone else in the meeting room, it’s just another ordinary day to dissolve a marriage.

Wanda’s wearing the sundress that sort of accidentally gave her release this morning. You keep looking at her, no wonder trying to figure out why the dress looks so familiar. And Wanda can’t look at you straight in the eye without blushing.

You came in with your ever reliable back-up: Natasha. Now that you’re no longer married to her, Wanda’s insecurities about the true nature of your relationship with Natasha has come up to the surface. The way Natasha would pat your back and ask you if you’re alright. The way she’d ask you if you’d like something to drink. The way she also knows you take your coffee black with three teaspoons of brown sugar.

The way she’s just always there.

It annoys her enough that you said Natasha was your person, because then what was she to you? The title of soulmate triumphs over wife, and Wanda wants to be both. She wants all the titles.

Well, maybe not all. She definitely doesn’t want to be called your ex-wife. But she’ll accept the reality for your sake. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she’ll give you everything you want, even if it puts her on the sidelines.

“Hey, do you want to get coffee?” Wanda breaks the spell of silence that lasted some five minutes when your lawyers and Natasha left the room to give you two a moment.

She immediately wants to take back her words when you look at her incredulously like she had grown another head on her lithe, sagged shoulders.

“Seriously?” you say, and spitefully chuckle.

Wanda says nothing, just resorts to quietly admiring you in a skirt suit she’s never seen you wear before. In the short time you’ve both been separated, she’s noticed little changes of yours that makes her homesick for you. You will wear new clothes and shoes, get a new haircut, try a new hobby, walk a certain way, and then all these changes will pile up until you become this inconceivable stranger. Still beautiful–but a stranger nonetheless. She knows the consequences of her actions are harder on you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s equally hard for her too.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” you sigh, despondent. “Maybe for you it’s not, but today is the worst day of my life, Wanda. Or second. Or third. I don’t know. There’s so many of them recently, but this is definitely in the top three. I just want to be alone.”

Wanda will never get used to the way you’re now just either angry or tired of dealing with her. She’s afraid to reassess the odds of getting you back and finding out it’s worse than zero.

“Right,” Wanda says, looking down at her feet. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You hum in response.

“It is, you know?” Wanda says.

You shoot her a quizzical look.

“It’s hard for me too,” Wanda clarifies. “I spent all morning picking out what to wear and getting all dolled-up, in desperate hopes you’d–you’d change your mind at the last minute.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, or–”

“No,” Wanda cuts in in panic. Somehow she keeps saying the wrong things. “It’s hard for me. Because it’s the end for our marriage when all I want is to be with you right now.”

You avert your gaze and nod solemnly at her as if you understood.

Do you?

Do you, perhaps, feel the same way? Or is she the only one still in love?

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you say, eyes downcast still refusing to meet her eyes. “I know it’s unfair for me to act like I’m the only one who’s hurting. I just–I’m tired of being angry and sad and lost all the time. And it doesn’t exactly help when you’re around. For once, I want to feel something else and I need to be alone to figure it out.”

I want to move on from you, is what Wanda thinks you really want to say and her eyes well up. This time, she prays you don’t glance her way. She might just break down right in front of you if you do. She’s never known this kind of desolation. And she only has herself to blame.

For once, she’s thankful for Natasha’s presence when she interrupts the moment, asking if you’re ready to leave.

“I am.” you tell Natasha. You get up and round the long table to approach Wanda. She could no longer stop the tears from falling when she felt you place your hand softly on her shoulder. The touch is so featherlight, it may as well just be her imagination.

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

The pain that racks her entire body causes her to visibly shake. She has no idea how she’s still alive at this point. Not for the first time, she desperately wishes for a do-over. But the clock only moves forward, and it’s still moving to take you away.

Maybe time will also be the one to bring you back someday.

Two Months Later

Wanda hasn’t seen you since the divorce. Not once. Nor has she heard from you at all. While you didn’t downright reject her when she had told you that she’d try to get you back, her unanswered texts and unreturned calls should be more than enough to tell her otherwise.

Her only consolation is that you haven’t blocked her number yet. A few days after she last saw you, she texted to remind you to pick up the last of your things she has in possession. Natasha showed up at her door the very next morning, which confirms you still get her texts. The items are inconsequential in nature, but Wanda had the hardest time putting them in a box.

She spent an unnecessary amount of time arranging your hardbound books alphabetically (“It’s just not the same, but a Kindle user would never understand.” you’d explain to her whenever you’d shop for more) and cleaning each protector of your small collection of Funko toys (“A dozen more of those and you won’t have space left in your side of the cabinet. What does that leave you with?” Wanda would reprimand you after seeing a shopping bag full of them in the trunk of the car. “Happiness.” you’d reply with a sheepish grin).

She smiled contritely after she had sealed the package; how ironic that she terribly missed the things about you she’s the least fond of. It’s as if the grieving doesn’t have an end. And if she had known you’d send Natasha to retrieve them, she wouldn’t have given them away. She wanted to keep them–wants to keep more of you as much as possible. Wanda wouldn’t call herself a masochist though. Not really.

Because it’s not over yet. It will take as long as it needs to, and it won’t matter. Patience is her utmost virtue.

And Wanda believes you feel the same, because there are midnights where her phone would ring from an unknown number. She’d answer and listen to shaky, shallow breaths for a minute before the person on the other line ends the call. It couldn’t be anyone else but you, could it? These moments are always hazy, however, muddled by wine and prescription pills. But Wanda swears they happen.

The days aren’t so bleak when she pretends she’s still your wife, and you’re just in some faraway place–like a soldier that has gone to war, she’s left to count the days until she’s in your arms again. She goes about her routine as she’s always done when the two of you were still together; go for a run in the mornings, have eggs and toast for breakfast, and then walk Sparky in the afternoon. Her evenings, excruciating and long, are the loneliest hours. Sleep won’t come easy to her, if it comes at all. Her heart mostly breaks as well for Sparky, who still waits by the door around the time you used to arrive home from work. He’d patiently wait there until Wanda would call for him, or fall asleep in the exact same spot. And it’s not like she can talk to him and explain why you won’t come home. All Wanda can do is wait for Sparky to forget this learned behavior or forget you.

So, for the past two months, she’s been taking it one day at a time. It’s now the only way she knows how to survive. It’s working so far, she muses, as she stands before the proof of it while carrying Sparky under her arm, right in the middle of a quiet street in Queens.

Wanda had loaned the capital for the business right after the divorce papers were signed, and when she got the alimony from it, it was more than enough to pay back the loan in full and still for some change.

She wanted to create something out of what she had destroyed.

And that’s how the borough’s first Sokovian café came to be. Or at least will come to be when the renovations are finally completed. She can’t see much through the scaffolding that is still in place, but she can make out what it would look like once it’s officially open to the public.

Her contractor and fellow Sokovian migrant, Mr. Jacobs spots her from where he is installing the signage. “Ms. Maximoff!”

Wanda smiles up at him, brushing her bangs away from her sight. The haircut is recent and she kind of regrets it. “Is everything okay around here?”

“I believe so. There’s still some electrical stuff to finish, but I’m confident we’ll be done before your opening.” he tells Wanda.

Sparky starts squirming against Wanda’s hold. “Is it okay to come inside or should I come back another day?” Wanda asks.

“Of course. I had my boys clear out the area and install the A/C last night, so you should be comfortable.”

Perfect. She’s yet to test out the oven she ordered, and there are some new recipes she’d like to try.

“And Ms. Maximoff?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, this place is going to do great. They’re gonna love you and our culture.”

A feeling of warmth spreads through Wanda’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” He gives her a salute before going back to work.

Wanda’s not ready for the emotion that consumes her when she steps inside her new café. She puts Sparky down on the hardwood flooring, and his nose immediately gets to work, sniffing every corner of the room he could find–which isn’t all that long to cover for a regular-sized Jack Russell Terrier like him. The rented space is relatively small, so Wanda had to be smart with its interior design; a long bench stretches from the open kitchen and counter to about two feet from the entrance, spanning two round dining tables that could sit two people at a time; by the window wall facing the street, is a high top table with two chairs. At most, three staff(including her) could fit in the open kitchen, along with a single espresso machine and a wall oven. All in all, the café can accommodate about six customers dining in at a time, which is why she’s hoping she’d do better with take-outs.

Wanda did all the decorations herself, top to bottom. The floral ceilings are a combination of autumn colors–your favorite season–and pendant lights subtly drop from them to emit a faint, yellow glow. The polished concrete wall of the dining area gives it an industrial vibe, while red brick tiles clad the panels of the kitchen area. For the finishing touches, Wanda decided to place a variety of potted plants in every corner of the room.

Standing at the center of it all, Wanda feels a sense of pride and fulfillment–something that seemed implausible to her just a few months before.

"Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a café business." You’d joke sometimes whenever she makes you coffee in the morning.

A shadow passes over her eyes as she looks out the window. Needless to say, there’s only one thing missing in it. The person she wants next to her when all her dreams come true.

You.

–

Pietro finishes a whole batch of white chocolate macadamia cookies by himself. Wanda’s twin brother flew in last weekend, a rare occurrence since she only sees him once a year at most. He’d be home in the holidays for dinner, and be gone the following day. He lives with a suitcase, and never stays in a city for longer than two weeks. Wanda wasn’t expecting he’d visit her after she broke the news of her divorce, knowing he had gone through the same ordeal twice already without fuss. Apparently, it’s a run-of-the-mill life event for her brother, and it almost did not make it to their bimonthly check-in calls.

“You’re gonna have to pay me for those.” Wanda tells him. She’s crouched on the floor, feeding Sparky strips of dried meat as she takes a break between baking and practicing her Youtube-acquired skill of Latte Art.

“I thought it’s a welcome home gift.” Pietro says, licking off the crumbs from his fingers. With the bleach in his hair extending to his medium stubbles, their resemblance is close to nonexistent.

“You earn ten times more than I do in a year.”

“So? What is family for if not free food?”

“It’s $52 dollars.” Wanda says.

Pietro hands her a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Wanda smirks at him, pocketing the money in her apron. “I intended to.” She passes him a napkin, and gestures at his chin. He waves her off in a pompous manner, and instead, goes to the back of the shop to clean himself up. She didn’t think it’s possible to both know and not know someone at the same time. To look at them and see who they are versus who you think they’re supposed to be. In terms of money and status, he is miles ahead of Wanda, but perhaps at the cost of being unable to find the brother she shared her childhood with in Sokovia. Wanda’s not sure if he still exists beneath the layers of branded suits and expensive perfumes, she just knows she misses him terribly.

“Second Chances,” Pietro proclaims as he returns a minute later, waving his hands wildly with an imitation of a fanfare. “A little corny if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not asking you,” Wanda contends and then proceeds to scrub the empty tray that Pietro left in the wake of his cookie binge. “It’s a good name. People can interpret it however they want.”

“And you? What was on your mind when you came up with it?”

Wanda doesn’t answer that.

“So,” Pietro jumps into a sitting position on the counter and lets his legs dangle from its edge.

“How’s the quarter-life crisis, sis?”

Wanda cocks an eyebrow and gives him a once over. “Better than yours. All things considered.”

Sparky comes up to him and stands on his hind legs to snuffle at his shiny loafers.

“Touché,” Pietro laughs good-naturedly and crosses his legs to avoid the dog’s attention. “It’s weird though, seeing you get into this kind of thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks.

“You’re not a salesperson, Wands. Remember your girl scout days? Dad would buy all your cookies because you can’t sell for shit.”

Wanda snorts noisily through her nose. “Mom can’t bake for shit.” She notices the smile fall from his lips at the offhand jab at her brother’s favored parent.

Wanda sighs. When she does get glimpses of the old Pietro, it’s mostly through negative triggers.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Wanda starts to apologize but Pietro quickly changes the subject without a preamble.

“You’re really not going to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Playing dumb isn’t a good look on you.”

Wanda suddenly drops the tray on the sink, the violent sound of metal hitting metal giving both of them a minor headache. She pauses to think, and then says, “How about you just ask me straight instead of skirting around the topic of she-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Okay,” Pietro says in an annoyingly placid tone. “What were you thinking, cheating on Y/N?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She did ask him to be blunt.

“I wasn’t. There’s… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this missing gap, and I acted to fill that gap.”

“Was it something that’s missing in your relationship?” Pietro asks and props his cheek on his palm. The question is so familiar to her because she’s asked it herself countless times, the day she kissed Vision for the first time. There wasn’t an epiphany nor were there pieces falling into place when she had slept with him. And when she thought she loved him, it wasn’t because she thought she loved you any less. She came to the conclusion, not too long ago, that perhaps there’s just something rotten inside of her that she simply wasn’t aware of.

Wanda shakes her head, weary at making sense of herself and her decision to risk everything she’s built with you for something as cheap as a fling. “None of this was her fault. Her only mistake was falling for someone who’s way beneath her.”

“I always thought she’s too good for you, no offense.”

Wanda’s smile is brittle as she recalls how Pietro’s toast at the wedding started with that exact sentence, word-for-word. You had squeezed Wanda’s clammy hand as you listened to Pietro rant about Wanda, and jokingly express his regret that you married the lesser twin. Wanda apologized for his tactlessness, and you responded with a kiss to her cheek, telling her how wrong he was, how you were only good and she made you better.

“I’m sorry, Wands,” Pietro tells her earnestly. “I can’t say I’ve been through the same thing even with two divorces under my belt. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone the way you both were with each other–or at least, the way she was in love with you.”

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I’m going to fix it.” she says.

It stings–the implication that Wanda was incapable of matching your love for her. But it only stings because it’s the truth. You deserve to be happy and she failed. And yet, she also can’t survive the thought of you getting the happiness you deserve from someone else. After all this time, her selfishness hasn’t been tamed.

Which is why Pietro’s next words hit her right in the gut. “Divorce can’t be fixed. Hell, it’s the only resolution for a terminal relationship. And hasn’t it crossed your mind that perhaps, she’s already met someone else?”

Wanda gives up on her search for the rolling pin. She cracks some eggs in a bowl and starts to furiously whisk by hand.

Maybe she’s an awful person for assuming you won’t be able to move on from her that easily.

But that’s just how she sees it.

“No.” she says.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know her, Piet.”

Pietro starts clapping in slow, steady beats. “She divorces you and you’re still so smug about how she’s so crazy about you.” he says.

“If you’ve ever felt loved by someone like her, you’d understand.”

Pietro ignores his sister’s underhanded attempt to hurt him back. He came to terms with the reality ages ago, that he’s probably not one of the lucky ones who will get to experience the kind love that Wanda boasts about with you. Maybe he had it once, not necessarily in a romantic sense. But when he thinks of love–real love–he thinks of no one but their estranged mother.

“Or maybe,” He jumps off the counter to retrieve his coat hanging from one of the dining chairs. “Love goes away eventually.”

“Not ours.”

Pietro couldn’t help the maniac laughter that escapes his throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”

Wanda purses her lips, continues whisking.

“Okay, how about this. If you really love her, then you’d at least want her to be happy, even if it’s not with you.” Pietro tries to reason.

“Oh, so you’re suddenly an expert on the topic.”

“I’m a dick, not an asshole. And yes, there’s a difference.”

Wanda keeps working the whisk like a madwoman. Large amounts of bubbles are forming in the emulsion, and overbeating the egg mixture is definitely not in the recipe.

Pietro continues, “Yeah, I’m a cheater, same as you are–”

“Don’t you dare–” Wanda suddenly tosses the whisk on the worktop, a glint of something dangerous in her green eyes.

“Let me finish,” Pietro appeases lightly. “I’m a cheater. I cheated on my ex-wives. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself as some anti-hero who has the potential to be an actual hero and become the person they deserve to be with. Because I’ll never be that guy.”

“We’re not the same. We share a birthday, but that’s where the similarities end.”

“We share the same DNA, Wanda,” Pietro smiles through his frustration. Excessive stubbornness–another quality innate to Maximoffs. “But that’s not the point. You know she’d be better off without you. As cliché as it sounds, the only way you can actually show her you love her is by letting her go–completely.”

The shuddering sigh that escapes her is immediately followed by erratic sobs that go out of control fast. Pietro is right there in an instant, an arm thrown over her shoulder as her whole body jerks, rasping for air.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” he murmurs into her crown. “You’ll be okay, Wands. I promise…you’ll be okay.”

“Will you be okay if I leave you here? I have to meet someone in a few.”

Wanda heard you say in earnest. She lost herself for a while, stunned by the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The day flew by so quickly in your company, she hadn’t realized it was time to go. And to think that she almost skipped freshman orientation because going to New York University wasn’t exactly the plan. Columbia was–where her boyfriend was a junior.

Her boyfriend, who she forgot texted her an hour ago asking if she was ready to go, and hadn’t heard back from her.

“Y-Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” she mumbled, distracted by the glow of the sunset forming a halo around your head. You were beautiful in a way that was not entirely evident at first. Wanda was curious if anybody else had made the same discovery.

“It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” she smiled like she’d been doing all day with you, and so frequently, that the muscles on her face were beginning to hurt a little.

The smile you returned her way was glorious, but in a flash you were already walking away. Wanda couldn’t describe the way she fervently despised watching you go, especially without your number on her phone and no means to contact you in the future.

“Y/N?” Wanda called out. Her heart seemed to swell and swing against her rib cage.

“Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

And the kindest eyes that ever looked at her gave the answer.

Pietro leaves shortly after the tremors subside and her breathing returns to normal. The panic attacks aren’t that frequent, but she does get them now from time-to-time. They started right after the night you gave Wanda your wedding ring.

With her brother gone, Wanda is left to wonder if you’ve met someone. She is left to wonder if you’re no longer miserable like she is, if you’ve taken considerable strides in moving on with your life. She tries calling you. Not to talk, but just to check if you still haven’t blocked her number. After several rings, you don’t pick up as expected. Not a setback. Not a progress either. She pretends you’re asleep or in the shower. She pretends you mean to call her back, but forgets to.

And if a confirmation of not being blocked is all she gets, she’ll take it.

She’ll take what you can give even if it’s nothing.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel #unbetad #My writing #my fic

713 notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 2 years

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how about mean!cheerleader having her first fight with eddie? i need a little something angsty soooo bad:(

ask and you shall receive baby! this is quite short. hope you don’t mind that<3

eddie and mean!cheerleader have their first fight

the anger that burns inside of her still hasn’t died down and she doesn’t want to do anything she’d regret later, but it’s so difficult when eddie is being a downright prick to her. it’s like he has no idea how to control his choice of words. yet, she’s trying so hard to keep her cool because she doesn’t want him to get hurt.

“oh so now you’re not talking to me? you were having fun chewing my goddamn ear off just earlier!” he sarcastically says, looking at her who refuses to do the same.

“yeah, cause you were being a dick” she mutters, furiously flip through her magazine, trying to shake his rude tone off her mind. “you didn’t get what i mean. so why don’t we just call it.”

he laughs humorlessly, running his hands through his hair frustratedly. “what did i not fucking get, y/n? you were overreacting, there was nothing going on between me and rebecca! her nose was this close to bleeding, thanks to you!”

she slams the magazine down, raising up to her feet so she can now look at him dead in the eye,

“that bitch had her hands all over you, twirling your hair and shit, ignoring me as if i wasn’t there. as if i wasn’t even your girlfriend!” she angrily responds, only to hear him scoff

it’s s good thing that there aren’t a lot of people at the bleachers, or else she would be giving them a show for the third time,

“you didn’t even do anything about it! just laughed and enjoyed the attention she gave you. i tried telling you but you brushed me off! and fuck, do you know how hard it was for me to not knock that bitch out?”

“oh? well why didn’t you, huh princess? it’s what you’re good at right?”

the way he says it… god he makes it sound like she’s a terrible person.

he implies that violence is the only thing she knows how to do in terms of solving things. it hurts her. because she knows damn well that’s not true. she doesn’t like hurting people. that’s not who she is entirely

“no, smartass! not at all! because i have actually been trying to fix that. it’s hard but I’m trying! i just- when it comes to the people that i love, i have to do whatever it takes to not lose them. and i love you, so i got scared okay! I’ve told you million times about this already.”

he’s quick to shake his head, scoffing at her. finding it hard to believe that his girlfriend is trying to find a way to justify her actions. “no-just—you do not get to play that card with me. you almost broke her nose, y/n. if it wasn’t for me, she’d be at the nurse’s office by now.”

“oh, what, you’re her knight in shining armor, now?” she tilts her head curiously, arms crossed. “her fucking prince, is that it? maybe i should’ve broken her nose. or her arm. how about that?”

“god you’re unbelievable” he breathes out a tired sigh, putting his hands on his hips. “i had know fucking idea you’d be like this.”

“be like what?” she pushes, challenging him as she steps closer. his eyes are filled with rage, she can tell. and she dares him to say it. “you can’t even say it, can you?”

“no because it’s not worth it anymore.”

“uhm yes it is! she’s the reason why we have this fight in the first place! because you picked her side over mine!”

“i didn’t pick her side, stop putting words on my mouth!”

“you did!” she argues, “if you didn’t, i wouldn’t call out on your shit! she likes you eddie, why can’t you see that? she wants you, she wants my boyfriend! how the fuck are you so damn clueless?!”

“jesus h christ, y/n! you need to drop this insecure shit you have going on! it’s not cute! just because I’m dating you doesn’t mean that other girls can’t talk to me!” he yells, eyes wide in anger because he can no longer hear anymore of her complains, it’s tiring. “no wonder your exes are fed up”

her body soon freezes momentarily. as he draws a few steps away from her, she feels the beat of her heart begins to slow down, as if there’s no air left for her to breathe.

so many things he had said was just plain wrong and she has no idea where to start.

oh, eddie… why did you have to say that?

“w-what?” she feels small as she chokes out, eyes turning glossy, “insecure?”

when eddie looks back at his girl, he immediately realizes what words were spewed from his mouth. to see her trembling and looking like a kicked puppy just makes him want to punch himself in the stomach.

what has he done?

“wait.. n-no baby i didn’t mean that, i was just-“

“you’re the only person who never calls me that” she then breaks into a full sob before walking away from him. she can’t be in the same room with him now. anywhere but here. she needs to clear her mind,

“y/n, no, princess please I’m-i’m sorry.” he begs, running after her. “i didn’t-“

“don’t!” she immediately stops him. “i don’t want to talk nor see you right now. don’t even bother, eddie.” with that she continues to walk off, wiping her tears away with her palms,

his heart chips away piece by piece when her cold tone appears, especially after hearing her call him by the first name. he’s always been eds, puddin or neddy. it was never a first name. and that’s when he knows he’s fucked. he has hurt her. it pains him to watch her cry like that in front of him. it just kills him. especially since he promised that he’s not going to do it, because he doesn’t want to be like all of her former boyfriends. he promised to treat her better.

but he just feels like he has become one of them. hurting her. his girl.

“f-fuck” he has his hands in the back of his head, hanging low with his eyes shut. “munson you stupid. fucking. freak. what the fuck have you done.”

pt.2

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson x mean!cheerleader #eddie things

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dauntlessallure · 8 months

Text

❲ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 ❳

toji fushiguro x troublesome!reader head-canons (long)

𖤐 › synopsis ；toji fushiguro with a significant other whose a lil shit.

𖤐 › contents / pairing ；toji x reader , you being a lil shit to toji , suggestive content towards the end, mentions of fake blood & knives , pet names, gn reader.

𖤐 › characters mentioned ；toji fushiguro , megumi fushiguro

𖤐 › word count ；800

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

this randomly came to me while i was drawing some stuff . . also this is my first set of hc’s with toji. enjoyyyyyy :)

you were always ALWAYS messing with toji. always. ever since you two hit it off , you’ve been consistently messing with him. wether it be a prank , calling him names , or just teasing the ever living shit out of him. toji swears up and down that you’ve been sent from satan himself just to make his life more miserable wonderful. all out of the simple fact of love of course.

everytime he wakes up , toji is obviously grumpy. You’d ‘ brighten ‘ his morning with the good ole [..]

“ good morning sleeping beauty “

the man is NOT a morning person.

&& he is NOT impressed by your little nicknames.

he just stares at you before immediately going back to bed , pulling the covers over his head to block out the sunlight shining through the blinds. that sleep would soon be interrupted by you pouncing on him like a wild animal.

“ grughhh — ( y/n ) get off ! let me sleep ! “

the first time you called him a passenger princess made him so upset.

you were driving around toji & megumi for the day given that toji wasn’t allowed to drive legally given to his extensive background.

you were the one chauffeuring them around while blasting some music through the cars sound system. toji , of course wasn’t a fan of the music that was playing. “ this music is shit , could you change it to something else ? “

of course megumi didn’t mind it because he had his headphones in , listening in to his own music. “ no , i like this song babe “ he didn’t like your rebuttal too much due to him scoffing and turning his head away from you.

now you being . . well , you . the car had came to a complete stop. this caused both toji & megumi to advert their eyes immediately to you. “ i’m the one driving , which means my music is playing for right now . . you can pick the next song — passenger princess. “

this man was about to lose it.

he looked at you like this.

megumi was hiding a sly smirk in the backseat , clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

toji ended up getting out of the car and began to walk to his destination. but with hours some time of convincing by both you & megumi — he eventually continued to be the passenger princess.

but toji absolutely hates when you play physical pranks on him. hates it. especially the anxiety - inducing ones.

you were in the kitchen making dinner while toji mindlessly laid on the couch , keeping his eyes glued to the tv screen.

no longer holding back on the opportunity , you had grabbed a bottle of fake blood that you had purchased for last halloween and poured / splattered some onto the kitchen counter, floor, as well as your hand.

swiftly hiding the fake blood bottle , you had gone back to the kitchen island ; acting like you were chopping up something.

“ when’s dinner gonna be done ? i’m starvin’ “

suddenly , an ear piercing scream filled toji’s ears. he immediately jumped up & ran into the kitchen in a fit of panic.

you had perfectly put on a façade that you had accidentally cut your hand whilst chopping something. holding your hand into a tight fist as the fake blood ran down your arm, letting a few groans of ‘ pain ‘ fly — toji cursed.

“ ( y/n ) what the fuck did you do ?! “

“ god damn it theres blood everywhere . . “

“ let me see it ( y/n ) “

toji forcefully grabbed your arm to analyze how bad the wound really was, after you attempted to keep the prank going — Toji had to pry your hand open but to his demise. .

there was no wound.

and he was pissed. why would you do something so mean ? and why were you laughing ?!

toji’s nostrils flared out of annoyance and defeat as he leg your arm go , storming off into your shared bedroom.

perhaps this prank was a lil too mean.

but he’s a grown man , he’ll get over it ? . . right ?

no , he won’t. he may be a grown man but he can act so damn petty.

toji’s beginning to grow irritated with you.

after cleaning up the fake blood mess & finishing up dinner, you walked into the bedroom to find toji laying on the mattress faced away from the doorway. it’s pretty clear that he’s still upset & will be for god knows how long.

“ toji , it was only a prank “

“ . . . “

you let out a sigh before walking closer to the edge of the bed when suddenly you found yourself under toji’s body within seconds with your back pressed into the mattress & your hands pinned above your head.

“ you pull another prank on me and i’m gonna pull a prank on you that i think you won’t like very much darlin’ “

let’s just say you apologized for your cruel prank by the end of the night ;)

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 23’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

#𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄 #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji headcanons #jjk x you #oneshots #headcanons #jjk headcanons #toji x reader #jujutsu toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsutoji #jjk oneshot

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sems-diarie · 1 year

Note

thinking vvv hard abt Izuku who loses his mind when he fucks you. Esp without a condom!! Ik it’s probably been rehashed a million different times but I can’t get it out of my mind😭

The fat mushroom head of his dick pops past that first ring of muscle and he’s already struggling not to cum in you. Slides all the way home and the way your cunt is violently pulsing around him has his face buried in your neck, leaving desperate kisses and hickeys in his wake. God he feels like he’s a virgin again, feeling a pussy for the first time. Well he thinks that fucking you raw will always be like feeling you for the first time, walls hot and tight around his dick, and always so wet it feels like he could drown in you.

And you’re impatient, rocking your hips and trying to get him to move which just makes him groan, hands coming up to squeeze your cheeks hard.

“Stop or I’ll cum right now, I’ll fucking do it. Breed you like a little bitch before I fuck you on my cock properly.”

Well that just makes you want it more.

“Please izu, please move just a lil’ I’ll take anything you give me,” your words are slurring and you can feel your mind slipping as he humps his hips into yours, bullying your cunt open. Finally he’s dragging out of you just to slam back in, hard.

The air in your lungs wheezes out of you as he pushes your legs over his shoulders, adjusting your hips so he has you in a mating press. He sets a fast pace, the patpatpat of him fucking you echoing lewdly in the quiet room, balls slapping your ass. You can’t stop moaning, grabbing him anywhere you can reach; his hair, his face, his ass, nails scratching down his back hard enough to draw blood.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Why are you so tight?” he near sobs, grinding his cock as deep as it can go. “Pussy’s so hot around me, it’s mine isn’t it baby? Who’s pussy is this, huh? Who’s girl are you?”

“ ‘m yours!!” You gasp, tears leaking down your cheeks. “s’all yours zuku, daddy, fuck your pussy, fuck me harder please”

That damn word, you and your damn daddy kink. He loved when you called him that, thinks that if you played it right he could cum just from you calling him that alone. What else can he do but comply with your request?

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum talking like that. You’re my dirty girl, aren’t you? Fucking breeding slut is what you are. Gonna cum in this hole until I put a baby in you. You’d look so good with my kid in your stomach. Want me to breed you, my love? Make you a mommy?”

“Uh huh,” you hiccup, legs tightening around his neck. “yesyesyes, put a baby in me daddy! Breed your dirty little slut, wanna make you a real daddy.”

“Sweetheart,” he groans, fingers coming up to wrap around your throat like a pretty collar. “Oh sweetheart, you’re so fucking good for daddy. Cum on my cock honey, let me feel that cunt make a mess around me. Wanna fill you up while your pussy squeezes me. Make me cum, slut.”

You’re helpless to his words, squealing as your orgasm hits you, clear liquid squirting out around his dick. And Izuku is loud when he comes, moaning like it hurts.

“Oh god,” he moans, nose smushed into your cheek. He cums long and hard, and you can feel it starting to leak out of your sore hole. “Oh my fucking god, feels so good honey, you feel too good.”

In moments like this Izuku feels like you are a god, his little goddess for him to keep and worship all for himself. If only he knew you revered him in the same way.

(Ily sem! Have a good day/night, giving you a big kiss!💕)

cries cums wails i’m trembling. ‘his little goddess’ :(( he’s the worst, talks you into having his babies ‘cause he wants to see your tummy get rounder :((

‘i’ll fucking do it.’ you won’t you won’t!! 😩

#izu <3

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foli-vora · 1 year

Text

masterlist | foli jolly xmas list

my only wish: part two

jack daniels x single mum f!reader

summary: typical hallmark movie. he’s never been one for christmas - he hates the tacky decorations and the ear drilling music, but maybe the owner of a small town bakery and her children will change that.

warnings: this man. this man is a warning. this is soft. S O F T. i have heart eyes. swearing, more minecraft shit, almost kisses, yearning, the good stuff hits next chap (18+)

word count: 5866

a/n: gif by moi. so this is a combo of part 2 & 3 and it's fucking late because i'm so fucking busy and have fallen so fucking behind i want to cry. i will forever apologise for the utter shitstorm this month has turned out to be. catch me fighting off the burn out til at least mid january lmao. this made me so disgustingly soft. enjoy!

His first morning, after an admittedly restless sleep, he was wide awake and ready to go at 6am – his body clock just used to waking early to get a start on the working day. He takes a shower, has a coffee, wipes down the already clean counters and stares outside the kitchen window for an hour.

He flicks through the books left behind by previous tourists lining some of the shelves in vague interest, but none appeal enough to him to laze about on the couch as he had hoped. He flicks through the channels on the mounted TV, but finds nothing intriguing enough to watch. He moves for the porch swing, the icy air biting at his cheeks, and rocks in the creaky seat, trying desperately to just be.

It’s not too bad, he supposes. It’s a calm he doesn’t get to experience a lot, especially seeing as he constantly bounces between Kentucky and Manhattan. There’s not a whole lot of nature to soak up from his penthouse in the city, and he never bothers to hang around long at his ranch at home. When was the last time he put his riding boots on?

Back and forth.

No, it’s not bad at all. He’s been in much, much worse predicaments. Maybe it was a good thing to put his feet up after doing back to back missions for God knows how long. Lord knows his body needs a damn good rest, but how could he shut his mind off?

Back and forth.

It’s only for a few weeks, and then he’ll be able to dive right back into it. Maybe Champ will already have something lined up for him. Did Rum file those papers correctly? Has Cointreau taken over his Manhattan office for the time being? She’d better not kill his peace lily, she’s incapable of keeping a plant alive for longer than a week…

Back and forth.

“Fucking Christ,” he grits out to himself, deciding to give up on the swing and marching back indoors, wondering just how long it would be before he loses his entire fucking mind.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Was it always this hard? Any other normal person would delight in taking a vacation, would relish in having nothing to do but lounge around and soak up the peace and quiet. Why is it so damn hard for him?

He grabs his jacket and keys before locking up the cabin and heading into town, deciding to stroll the streets and window shop to fill some time, maybe even take a wander past the bakery. Purely for the treats and not the pretty thing he’d been pleasantly surprised with yesterday.

Didn’t even get a name, and he only realised when he got back to the comfort of his Bronco. He couldn’t just waltz back in there and ask like an idiot… maybe he could persuade the kid to give him some information. Should be easy enough to convince with a couple of dollars if the last two interactions with him were anything to go by.

He frowns out of the windshield as he drives, wondering if he’s really lost that much game he’s resorting to bribing a kid for things he could quite easily get the answers to himself. This wasn’t a job — a quick flirt and seduce for the sake of a mission… this could be a real thing, no matter how brief due to him not being in town for long.

He was coming here as Jack, not Agent Whiskey.

There’s a slight pressure there in the back of his mind that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

—

“He should come over for dinner,” Gabe mumbles around a mouthful of muffin, crumbs spilling from his lips and raining over his sweater. “I want him to meet Snickers.”

A few crumbs fall to the freshly cleaned floor beside you where you kneel on the cold tiles and you scowl lightly at them before returning your attention to the decorations in your hands, rifling through the tangled pile of lights and signs until you find what you’re looking for.

“We barely know the man,” you reply after a moment of fiddling, tearing through tape with your teeth and sticking your Merry Christmas banner to the front of the counter, taping around the edges to ensure it sticks. “We can’t just invite a stranger over, Gabe.”

No matter how pretty said stranger is. You’d be lying if you hadn’t had Jack lingering in the back of your mind since meeting him yesterday. He was quite a hard man to forget, what with his strong, handsome features and warm charismatic presence. Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks such—

“He’s very handsome,” Edith murmurs, smiling thankfully at Stacy as the young blonde places her usual tea and pastry in front of her. “Betty said he’s available, too.”

You chuckle quietly, turning your attention to Edith where her small, aged frame hunches slightly in her thick winter coat.

“You on the market, Edith?” You grin cheekily, giving her a little wink. “He looks like he’d be a good handful.”

“Oh, you never know, pet. I did just have my hip replaced.”

A snort tears its way from your throat before you laugh, your smile widening as her own chuckle fills the shop. Gabe’s eyes move between you both, a growing frown of confusion deepening between his brows.

“I don’t get it.”

“Never you mind, young man,” Edith smiles, sipping delicately at her tea.

“Mi amor, you wound me! I thought I was your only one!” Jose cries, walking out from the kitchen and sliding a fresh tray of various slices into the display case before waltzing over to her with a playful frown. “And now you leave me for some cowboy? My heart aches—”

“Oh you,” Edith murmurs warmly, melting into the embrace he gives her from behind her chair and patting the arm he has across her chest fondly. “You’ll always be my favourite.”

“That’s more like it,” he returns indulgently, planting a kiss on her temple before straightening up and returning to the kitchen. He pokes the side of your head as he passes, grinning at your swat of annoyance. “And you? He won’t be a stranger if you invite him over and get to know him.”

Gabe makes a garbled noise of agreement after shoving the remaining muffin into his mouth. “Exactly! He’ll always be a stranger if we don’t give him a chance, and h—Cowboy!”

You roll your eyes, on the brink of telling him not to be so loud in the shop when Jack’s sudden deep chuckle has you fumbling with the tape in your hands before it could drop to the floor from your surprise.

A quick glance over your shoulder confirms that he’s here in the flesh, stepping into the shop and sliding the yellow tinted glasses from his nose with a charming half grin tugging at his lips.

Speak of the devil himself.

“Glad to know you’ve dropped the ‘lame’ title for me, kid.”

“Mum said it was rude,” Gabe shrugs lightly.

At your mention, Jack’s attention falls on you and your reaction is immediate. It’s like that sweet high school crush all over again. Your heart quickens as a small thrill rolls through your body, humming along your nerves and causing the muscles of your stomach to tighten in delight.

He nods politely, the rim of his Stetson briefly ducking over his features, and you grin at the greeting, rising unsteadily from your spot and inconspicuously wiping your hands down the front of your apron to dampen the sting of sweat biting at your palms.

“Are you here for more gingerbread already? I haven’t made any new ones yet so you’ll have to wait til later,” Gabe says frankly, lips pressing into a line as he gazes up at him.

“Now that’s a real shame,” Jack drawls, a frown pulling at his features as his arms cross over his chest. “I was lookin’ forward to one of them fancy diamond fellas of yours.”

Gabe suddenly brightens, seemingly struck with quite an idea, and you feel the trickling of dread begin to grow along your shoulders. It’s never good when he gets that shine in his eyes… God, what is he up to now?

“We could make them together! It would be so much fun with all of us! Can’t we, mum?”

Where is he going with this? Of course you could, but would Jack even want to? He could just be playing nice after all, and now Gabe’s practically cornering him into something he doesn’t want to do. Would Jack be too polite to decline? Maybe you should swoop in before he gets too uncomfortable.

You shift slightly, eyes quickly darting to Jack. “I mean… yeah, but I don’t thi—”

Gabe grins, “Cool! Come over tonight, okay Cowboy? You can meet Lou and Snickers! Do you promise? Promise me!”

“Whoa hey, slow down, kid,” Jack grins, holding his hand out in a calming manner. “That’s not your decision to make. You gotta talk these things through with your mama before you go makin’ plans.”

“Mum,” Gabe whines, whirling on the spot. “He has to come over tonight. You were just talking about having him over for dinner—”

“Is that so?” Jack swoops in, dark eyes rolling to yours and shining with interest.

Heat grows along your cheeks as your mouth suddenly dries up, your mind whirling and whirling yet giving you fucking nothing in terms of words. Though it’s only a moment, it feels like hours until you finally manage to speak, clearing your throat of the feeling of shy discomfort and giving a small shrug.

“I was just saying we can’t invite a stranger over,” you explain dumbly, inwardly wincing.

He cocks his head, a playfully charming smile tugging gently at his lips and you feel the effect of his eyes settle low in your stomach.

“How do you make friends without givin’ a stranger a chance, sugar?”

His tone curling the pet name on his tongue brings your heart to an unsteady beat, blood rushing along under your skin as your smile briefly widens.

“You make a good point, cowboy,” you reply softly.

“That’s what I said!” Gabe agrees loudly, suddenly snapping you out of the apparent daze Jack had all but forced upon you.

You become very aware of Edith glancing at the three of you from her table, an amused smile playing along her lips as she sips at her tea. Jose is unusually quiet in the kitchen — no doubt eavesdropping, and Stacy seems to be wiping over the same spotless mark on the display case, trying her hardest to not make it look like she’d been lingering to purely listen in.

How had you not noticed them all? They were hardly discreet.

It’s his damn smile.

Jack, unbothered by the interruption, grins widely at Gabe, raising a hand to ruffle the thick knitted beanie forced over his hair. “You got a good head on your shoulders, kid.”

You catch Edith’s eyes over Jack’s shoulder and she gives you a nod of encouragement, throwing in an impatient point to the cowboy for good measure.

“Did—did you want to?” You ask, hoping your nerves didn’t shine through your tone. “Come over for dinner, that is. We could decorate cookies after…”

“Yeah,” Jack answers after a moment of studying your features, his smile softening briefly when he finds whatever he’s looking for. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Relief washes through you, followed steadily by a wave of anticipation and sweet excitement. You’re positive everyone can hear your heartbeat. It drums loudly in your ears, quickening when Jack sweeps forward to pluck the pen from where it hangs off the top of your dusted apron.

He bends briefly to jot something down on the back of a business card he’d pulled from the little holder in front of the till before straightening, smoothly slipping the card into your apron pocket.

“Let me know where and what time, and I’ll be there. See you later, kid — be good, y’hear?”

“Bye cowboy!” Gabe hollers after him, grinning and waving when Jack turns to give him a nod of goodbye.

“Holy shit,” you breathe when he’s finally out of sight, hand flying to rest over where you feel the business card tucked into your pocket and feeling the sharp edges of it through the thick fabric with a wash of warmth rolling through your body.

—

He still doesn’t have a fucking name.

His steering wheel had taken the brunt of his irritated palms during his drive back to the cabin and his brows had been furrowed over his eyes for the entire journey. He’d been so confident, so set on finding out your name the moment his gaze landed on your familiar shop front.

Well that went to fucking shit, didn’t it?

The second your pretty little eyes found his, he couldn’t remember a goddamn thing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. He’d been struck off balance, practically clawing to keep his cool calm. Hell, he couldn’t even say hello — he’d had to settle for a nod because his throat was so damn dry.

Thank god the kid had been there or he’d have made a right ass out of himself. How does one get a date before a name?

And he damn well couldn’t ask for it after receiving a text from you, noting your address and a time you’d be home after closing up. He couldn’t even label your fucking contact details in his phone.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he’d growled to his reflection in the mirror while he was getting ready, his fingers smoothing his damp moustache down as leftover steam from his shower swirls towards the ceiling. “Get your fuckin’ act together.”

He’d come too far.

Now he needed to bribe the kid.

The drive to your house is mostly spent giving himself an internal pep talk, all of which seems to be forgotten the moment he rolls to a stop alongside the curb.

It’s a dark-bricked two storey with stark white lined windows and smaller in size than the others that line the roads heading towards the town centre, but not at all lacking in its own special charm, set amongst some trees with a paved path lining the way to the small, welcoming porch.

He knows he has the right place by the familiar face squished against one of the upper floor windows, and he gives Gabe a wave as he walks towards the steps, chuckling quietly to himself when he vaguely catches the kid yell his arrival from inside.

His knuckles rap softly against the light teal door, and he takes that brief moment to collect himself with a steadying breath while shaking the tension from his shoulders, before the door suddenly swings in, revealing your frame in the vacant space. His fingers tighten around the small bouquet of flowers held loosely by his side, suddenly struck dumb by you once again.

“Hey darlin’,” he greets softly, his smile automatic as your own spreads across your lips.

“Hi Jack,” you murmur, delighting in the buzz that runs along your nerves.

He raises the flowers, pride rolling over his shoulders when you blink in surprise before giving him the sweetest fucking smile he’s ever seen. God help him.

“These are for y—”

“Cowboy!”

The door is shoved open further by a new body, and Gabe grins up at him, tugging along another little body behind him. The girl stays half hidden behind her brother, her shy smile mirroring her mothers as she blinks up at him from around Gabe’s shoulder.

“Hey kid,” Jack greets fondly before leaning to take a better look at the girl, smiling when she ducks to hide further behind her brother, “hey sweetheart.”

“This is Louisa,” Gabe explains the second your lips part to form her name.

He takes a small step to the side, encouraging her to say hello with a comforting half embrace but she stays silent, hiding her face into Gabe’s sleeve and chewing on the nail of her index finger. He remains unphased and shrugs, tightening his arm around her and returning his attention to Jack.

“She’s a bit shy, but she’s cool.”

“Alright guys, let’s move out of the way before he freezes on our doorstep.”

You herd the kids out of the way and he steps in with a murmur of thanks, relishing in the warmth that fills the small home as you close out the cold behind him. He offers the bouquet of flowers to Louisa as she clutches at your leg, grinning when she carefully reaches for them. Gabe jumps to help him take his jacket off, as well as his hat, straining on tip toes to hang it neatly on the coat rack beside the door.

“Come on through, Jack,” you murmur, smiling at him over your shoulder as you walk deeper into your home, Louisa in tow, and he feels his heart jump in his chest. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Gabe goes to follow but Jack holds him back with his fingers pinching the collar of his t-shirt, waiting for a moment until you’re out of ear shot before bending at the waist and flashing the ten dollars he’d had ready in the front pocket of his jeans.

“You wanna make a deal?”

Gabe eyes the money and grins, “Sure.”

“I’ll give you this for your mama's name.”

—

“You really don’t have to do this, Jack.”

He gives a low rumble of a chuckle, turning to shoot you a brief grin as he passes you a wet plate. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, his hands turning slightly pink from the high heat of the soapy water filling the sink. He bumps softly into your shoulder, returning his attention to washing the small stack of dishes piled next to him.

It’s domestic, cosy.

“After that meal? Darlin’, it’s the least I can do.”

Dinner had gone down without a hitch, full of endless questions on Gabe’s part and a comfortable conversation with you when the kid had been too busy shovelling food into his mouth. Gabe had disappeared briefly and come back with his most treasured friend for introductions — Snickers, a soft tri-color Holland lop that stayed snuggled into his arms during the rest of the meal despite your disapproval.

Jack was at peace for the first time since he walked out the Statesman doors.

He tries not to enjoy it too much. His time in town is brief, after all.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you murmur softly, relishing in his sincere appreciation, “I’m actually not much of a cook.”

“Now, I refuse to believe that—”

“No, it’s true,” you grin, sharing a quiet laugh with him, “I can’t cook very well, but I can bake.”

“Yes, you can,” Jack agrees immediately, glancing over his shoulder to where the batch of gingerbread shapes sit on the counter before looking back at you. “I’ve never been one for gingerbread, and now it’s all I’m thinkin’ about.”

Maybe not all he’s thinking about.

He swallows, dragging his eyes away from the sweet curl of your lips.

“Well, in that case—” you spin and throw the towel playfully at his chest, “—let’s stop wasting time with the dishes.”

His eyes follow you as you move away, preparing somewhat of a decorating station over the clean kitchen counter, and he only becomes aware of the dazed little smile tugging at his lips when his cheeks start to ache from the pull of it.

He steps up next to you at your request, grinning at the cries of excitement from the other room when you call out for the kids. They settle on the two stools and take their pick of shapes from the tray you hold out to them, chattering about the various sprinkles and colours of icing you bring out already prepared.

Gabe quietly coaches Louisa along with decorations before glancing at you, his brows rising.

“You’re forgetting something, mum.”

“Oh, shit.”

Gabe grins as you grab your phone and mess with a little bluetooth speaker before the familiar notes of a certain song that is overplayed way too fucking much during this time of the year starts to fall from the speakers. Jack can’t help the little scrunch of his nose and you notice it with an amused tilt of your head.

“Don’t like this song?”

“I don’t like any Christmas songs,” Jack admits, accepting the little bowl of candy cane sprinkles Lousia shyly holds out to him with a tender smile.

“Oh no,” you murmur, catching Gabe’s attention as he turns to look up at you in question. “I think our new friend is a grinch.”

“What?!” Gabe abandons his decorating in favour of frowning up at the cowboy. “Do you hate Christmas? Why? Were you naughty?”

Jack chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ve just never really celebrated it, kid. It doesn’t interest me.”

“That’s fair, but I’m sorry cowboy,” you coo, leaning against the counter and giving him a coy smile, “when we make our gingerbread cookies—the Christmas playlist comes on.”

He decides he’s more than okay with it if he gets to spend a bit more time in your presence, and, all things considered, it’s not that bad. The music brings out a sweet giddiness in both you and the kids, and it only deepens the smile stretched out along his lips as he swims in the comfortable atmosphere falling over the kitchen.

“I have never used one of these in my life,” Jack notes dryly, holding the piping bag in his hand and frowning at the tip of it.

He glances at the way you work your own, looking so effortless in the way you ice intricate patterns over the cookies while softly swaying to the music. You side eye him with a grin, finishing off a swirl with a smooth flourish and raising a brow at him in a silent challenge.

Looks easy enough…

It’s not.

He makes a low noise of distaste at his shaky attempts, discovering the piping bag is not as innocent as it looks. Laughter melts into his ears and he throws you a playful frown, nudging your arm softly with his elbow.

“Are you laughin’ at me?”

“What? I would never,” you return cheekily, stepping closer until your front brushes against his arm.

Your hands cover his, the warmth of your palms oozing into his skin and he’s only vaguely aware of the instruction you quietly murmur into his ear. How could he focus on anything else with you so damn close? He ignores the pattern you help him ice over the cookie, too busy studying the way the kitchen light reflects in your eyes and the way your lashes brush against your skin.

You become hyper aware of his gaze burning into the side of your face and your body reacts automatically, your heart picking up in your chest and thudding heavily against your ribs. You sneak a glance at him, suddenly caught in the pools of warm brown focusing solely on you, and your breath catches in your throat.

It lasts only a minute, the chatter of Gabe and Lou obliviously decorating their cookies in the background keeping you both from falling any deeper into the temptation building along your nerves to close in on those last few inches.

Jack’s the first to look away and break the spell, his eyes falling down to the counter, before he gives you a final glance from his peripheral. You spy the smile tugging at his lips and your chest tightens, lost to the feeling of blood rushing to fill your cheeks.

Could he hear your heartbeat? God, you hope not.

The curl of anticipation never fades from the pit of your stomach as the night rolls on, stretching out over your system whenever you’d catch his gaze or feel the brush of his body against yours. It becomes harder and harder to deny the level of attraction you have for him, despite only meeting him yesterday.

And he’s wonderful with the kids… a fact that does nothing to temper the lure you feel for him.

He listens attentively to every word Gabe says when he goes on a ramble about his new world and how creepers keep blowing up his house, despite quite clearly not knowing what the hell he’s talking about. He’s delicately soft with Louisa, never pushing her to talk and simply content to watch her work, interacting with a kind smile whenever she’d ask for his help or thoughts.

She’s completely smitten by the end of the night, and you don’t blame her.

She gives him a small tired wave from where she snuggles into the couch under a blanket with Gabe who’s long passed out, head thrown back against a pillow and snores falling from his open mouth. You follow Jack out once he returns Louisa’s goodbye, cringing at the icy temperature when you step onto the darkened porch behind him.

“You’ve got a couple of great kids,” Jack murmurs, turning to you.

You grin in return, glancing over your shoulder to the warmth of your home where they rest before meeting his gaze and giving a little shrug.

“I know.”

He chuckles deeply and the low timbre of it shoots straight to the pit of your stomach, the feeling only worsening when he takes a step closer and leans in to press a soft kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips. He lingers for a brief moment, his moustache tickling your skin as his nose brushes your cheek and it sends your heart into a frenzy.

You can’t help but turn into it, the movement bringing his lips within breathing distance, much much closer than before. His breath is warm over your lips, heavy with the hot chocolate you’d made after the cookies, and you feel your heart beating in your ears as the tip of his nose briefly catches yours.

“Thank you for havin’ me, sugar.”

“You’re welcome any time, cowboy.”

“Careful now,” Jack drawls quietly, tongue slipping along his lower lip as his eyes shine mischievously, “I might take you up on that offer quicker than you think.”

“I sure hope so,” you smile, watching fondly as he finally steps away from you and raises a hand to place the weathered Stetson atop his head.

You’re in trouble. You can feel it in your very core. You can feel it in the way your cheeks refuse to let go of the smile stretched across your lips. Despite spending the entire evening in his company, you ache with the question of when you’ll be able to see him like this again, his brief time in town only fuelling this need, and it prompts you to speak up before he goes too far.

“Jack?” You call as he slowly swaggers down the porch steps.

He stops instantly, turning to face you with a curious brow raised.

“If you want to take me up on that offer, we’re putting our Christmas lights up tomorrow… we could do with an extra hand if you’re available. Unless Scrooge has to work…” you trail off teasingly, grinning at his chuckle.

“I’ll be here, darlin’.”

—

It’s different, and very much unlike you.

Inviting a stranger over for dinner? Inviting him back to help decorate your home? It’d all felt so natural the day you spent clipping rows after rows of small, twinkling colourful lights along the eaves and windows, sharing conversation and jokes until the sun melted behind the mountains.

The feel of his hands steadying you on your trusty little step ladder had burnt you, even through the thickness of your coat. The way his eyes had reflected the wild flash of colour from the lights had settled something soft and tender in the pit of your stomach, pleased that he seemed to be enjoying himself in your company, even doing something as mundane as tacking lights everywhere.

His farewell was much like the night before, leaving such a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips and lingering right there until you thought for sure he was going to kiss you, only to step away with that dazzling little grin and sauntering away with a raspy goodnight.

You’d stared at your ceiling longer than you cared to admit once he left, lost in the thoughts of his lips, his hands, the way he’d feel.

He quickly lost his title of stranger, becoming something of a fast friend the more he spent time with you. The feelings that bubbled to the surface and swam merry little circles around your heart came so naturally in his presence. You desperately try to ignore the way they strengthen with each shared glance and charming smile, convinced it’s just the thrill of a new crush and nothing more.

It couldn’t be anything more. Though he didn’t tell you a whole lot about his work, he did tell you he was never in one spot for too long. He bounced between Kentucky and New York, often going overseas and all over, and it didn’t give him the opportunity of settling, or even dating.

He had said it with a tone of apology, as if he was giving you the option of walking away before you stepped any further after knowing it could be nothing like you were potentially dreaming. You’d enjoy it while it lasted, you decided. It didn’t have to be anything serious, or even romantic, just a sweet memory to treasure when he eventually drives out of town.

“That one is huge!” Gabe cries, running to a monstrous 11ft thing towering over the other trees and fluffing its lower branches. “We have to get this one.”

“And put it where, Gabriel?” You question in amusement, rolling your gaze from the thick width of the tree to the tip top of it. “We wouldn’t even be able to get this through our front door, let alone stand it up inside.”

He gives a dismissive shrug, “We can make it work. Can’t we, Jack?”

Jack chuckles next to you, walking over to Gabe and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re askin’ a bit much of your door, kid. How about we find somethin’ more… compact?”

Gabe sighs, but eventually yields, giving one last look of longing to the monster before snatching Louisa’s hand and dragging her to other potential trees. You watch them dart between trunks with a small smile, your insides turning to fire when you feel a hand press into the small of your back to guide you between two close set trees.

“I’m sorry Gabe roped you into today,” you murmur as you step past Jack, your heart thudding when you feel his hand linger before sliding away. “I know Christmas isn’t your thing – this must be very painful.”

The night Jack had helped you with the lights, Gabe had asked — begged — him to come Christmas tree shopping with you, and had asked him every day leading up to the day a week later. Jack had given in early in the week, but Gabe had still asked every time Jack wandered into the shop for a treat to ensure his newest friend would help him pick the ‘coolest and bestest tree ever’.

Jack laughs, reaching out to feel the needles on a passing tree and giving you a grin. “Don’t be, sugar. I’m havin’ a great time. I’ve got good company.”

He gives your shoulder a playful little bump with his own and fire spreads across your chest, curling around your heart and filling the tips of your ears. Instead of stepping away, he stays close, keeping his side constantly brushing against yours as you both leisurely follow after the kids and your heart starts to hammer.

“I could say the same,” you grin, shooting him a look from the side, “you’re not too bad for a grinch.”

“Hey now,” he drawls with a smile, “there’s still time for me to go ‘round town stealin’ Christmas.”

You’d let him if he kept smiling at you like this.

“I’ll make sure I keep an eye out for you on Christmas Eve.”

“Speakin’ of Christma Eve,” Jack murmurs, fighting the feel of something curling around his throat, “what’s this Christmas Ball thing I’ve been hearin’ about?”

“It’s hardly a ball,” you grin, trying to not let the brush of his body send your heart into too much of a frenzy, “that makes it sound a lot fancier than what it is. It’s just a Christmas Eve party at the hall — they’ve had it for years. It’s gotten bigger over time, what with more and more tourists coming into town.”

Jack nods along to your words, wondering when the hell he started getting so goddamn nervous to even speak. He swears his heart is beating in his throat. It’s not him, it's you. It’s you doing this to him, catching him off guard with those pretty eyes and making him feel like he was a clueless boy head over heels all over again.

What in the hell are you doing to him?

Your voice breaks through his reverie.

“Will we see you there?”

His eyes flash up to meet yours, once again struck dumb by your smile. He gives a nod, barely able to catch his breath before your lips widen into something much more pleased and it rockets through his system. Originally he wasn’t going to, but the idea of going with you seemed much more appealing that staying in the cabin and nursing the bottle of whiskey for the night, waiting for the holiday to be over.

It’s just too bad he can’t get his damn mouth to form the fucking words to ask. Speak, man—

“Darlin’, I was wonderin’—”

“We found it!”

You both startle at the cry of victory that comes from in front of you, cutting through the moment of potential. Gabe has his hands clenched and arms high in the air while Louisa gives an excited little hop beside him, her face split from the grin stretched across her lips. Jack sighs quietly, weak to fight the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the kids’ excitement.

“Hold on a second,” you call back, turning those sweet eyes back onto him. “What were you saying, Jack?”

His eyes flick over your face, his throat bobbing with a swallow as he studies your features.

Maybe it’s best to leave it as it is. He already knows you’ll be attending, so what’s the point in asking you to go with him? He can just catch up with you there. Not to mention you probably had things to do with the kids, with your fellow townsfolk… no. He’ll leave it be. Besides, it’s not like he’ll be in town for much longer.

“It’s nothin’, sugar,” he finally replies, lips set in their charming curl. “Come on now, let’s go get this tree before this kid finds an axe and does it himself.”

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @patisseriel, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide

whiskey/jack tags: @pedrohoe04, @stardust-galaxies, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @dins-cyare, @eatommo, @serini-ty, @bbyanarchist, @raphaelaisabella, @breakfastonpluto19, @churchofrain, @joelmiller81, @h-hxgirl, @mischiefnevermanaged94, @shadowolf993

so many aren’t working lately, sorry x

#folijollyxmas #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal x reader

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winniethewife · 6 months

Text

Kinktober day 22

Day Twenty Two: Voice kink (William Tell x reader)

If you live in or near Atlanta just pretend you don’t. I picked a city at random, live with it.

Warnings: smut under the cut, nsfw, 18+, FemBodied, phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk,

Minors DNI

Words: 843

She woke up to her phone ringing. She groggily looks at the caller ID. It was William, she wasn’t quite sure what to call their relationship. Can you really call someone you’ve seen in person maybe all of five times your boyfriend? Lover? She answers the phone.

“Hey you.” She says trying to shake the sleep.

“Hey Sweetheart. Did I wake you up?” his low voice came in over the phone sending chills down her spine. The things his voice alone could do to her…

“Yeah, but that’s okay I’m more than happy to talk to you any time.” She says with a smile.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been thinkin’ about you. I miss you.” He croons, the sound of his voice. Dear god. She held back a moan.

“Miss you too. Where are you now?” She asks. She doesn’t really care but anything to keep him talking as her hand travels down past her waistband

“Just outside Atlanta. The heat is terrible.” He chuckles

“Oh Yeah, I can imagine. This time of year? I don’t envy you.” She says trying to hide the lust in her voice as she starts to gently run her fingers in circles around her clit biting her lip softly

“Yeah, yeah. No joke. What are you up to today?”

“Oh you know, the usual…work, errands…” and then she slips up, letting out a small moan.

“Sweetheart? You okay there?” He asks half concerned half amused.

“Okay you caught me. I was…getting off to your voice.” She admitted with slight embarrassment.

“Huh? You mean…Oh! I uh… didn’t know that my voice did it for you.” He says, she can hear the slight blush in his gravelly voice and she chuckles slightly in response.

“Yeah, it uh…does a lot for me actually.” She admits.

“Even if I’m not saying…sexy things?”

“Hun you could be reading me the yellow pages or a recipe for meat loaf and I could get off to it.” She says with brutal honesty

“Oh, wow. That sounds…boring.” He says with a laugh

“I mean it’s probably better when you say sexy shit but I’m just saying…anything works” She says with slight hesitation.

“Damn…baby that’s… kinda hot…I um…fuck…I want you, real bad.” He says. She can hear him shuffling in his own bed, he releases a grunt.

“Tell me about it, please. I wanna know.” Her hand is back on her wet pussy as she slides her fingers between her folds teasing herself.

“Uh…Yeah yeah…” he sighs “Um well I’m, rock hard and I’m stroking myself. I’m picturing you, on me…god... I want you to ride me, I want to fill that tight cunt of yours. Ugh.” He starts to describe the things he wanted to do and her whole mind starts to go into overdrive, the way he says that. The way he says everything. The way erhe moans at the end of his sentences while hes stroking himself, it was divine.

“Fuck, Yeah I want that too, god, I wish you were here. I need you inside me.” She moans as she rubs circles over her clit, thinking of straddling him, lowering herself on his cock. The image along with his low whisper like voice over the phone was enough to make her buck her hips into the air in desperate need.

“Yeah, I wanna be there. I wanna fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. Like this is my last day on earth. I…oh fuck baby… is this doing it for you darling? Are you gonna cum to the sound of my voice? Oh fuck…” William is almost losing his mind over the idea that she is finger fucking herself to the sound of his voice, that just the sound of his voice is enough.

“Yeah, Yeah. I am… please don’t stop talking. Please…” She was practically begging as she jammed her fingers into her aching walls, it’s not really enough to satisfy her needs but its enough to bring her to the edge.

“I’m close too sweetheart. Just thinking of you… god I need to see you, as soon as I’m done here I’m coming to you, I’m getting in the car and I’m going to drive all day and night to get to you, I need you that bad babe. Oh fuck. I’m gonna make a mess of you darling. I’m not going to stop until we pass out. God I love you… I swear… ah mpgh. Fuck I’m cumming.” He lets out a groan at the end as he spills his cum all over his hand and chest, panting. The sound of which caused her to also reach her limit whimpering as she rides out her high her breathing heavy. They listen to each other breathing on the other end as they come down from their high.

“William?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Do you mean it? That you love me?”

“Of course I do…did you think I didn’t?”

“Well…you never said it before…” “Oh… Damn… that’s it I’m driving up there tonight. I need to prove how much I love you.”

Kinktober Masterlist

taglist:@steven-grants-world @queerponcho

#william tell #william tell x reader #the card counter #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #fawktober2023 #kinktober #phonesex #voice kink #i love his voice

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ff7-has-taken-me-over · 1 year

Note

COD things I think about just price being a dad towards his team makes me soft, also nik and price being married is so funny and also gives good angst prompts, and I always see this but graves trying to makes moves on soap and everyone stops him because they know he is a red flag (they are also jealous how graves make soap laugh so much he puts his hand on his chest) and prevents him for going further with soap.

I’ve been seeing so many Nik x Price fanarts on my twitter timeline and I’m living for it aye, that shit is just so good.

The one prompt I’ve got sticking out in my mind about Nik and Price is Nik coming back from his own little mission, tired as anything but excited to see his not-husband-husband (because ‘Nik, I’ll not say you’re my husband if you don’t give me a proper wedding day. I haven’t lived this long for nothing.’)

But he’s excited, smiling to himself as he thinks of the man, but the first thing he comes across is so wildly reminiscent of a husband coming home after work to his kids and partner in absolute chaos that he just freezes and stares for far too long.

There Soap and Gaz are, halfway up a flagpole and yelling down at Ghost who literally looks like he’s about to climb the damn thing, while Price stands to the side looking like a tired dad that can’t help but be endlessly amused and fond.

Nik walks over, still staring at the scene but taking a moment to pull Price into his side so he can kiss the side of his head before he’s asking what the fuck is going on.

Price snorts, waving a hand toward them uselessly as he speaks, “Oh y’know Soap. He was being a shit and dragged Garrick into it which ended up with Simon in the middle. They figured he’d have too much pride to climb a flagpole to get them but he’s seriously been considering it.”

Nic hums, smile cracking across his face when a startled scream and dread filled wail escape the two sergeants once Ghost actually starts climbing the damn thing.

“And you haven’t done anything because?” Price sighed again, head falling to the side so he could bury his face in Nik’s neck in an attempt to block out their madness.

“Was waiting for you to get back so you could give me some patience.” The pilot laughs a little louder this time, giving the man a longer lasting kiss for his troubles before sending him off.

“Do this now and I’ll make you some of that stew you enjoy so much.” Price is reluctant still, but he’s afraid of what will happen if he actually lets Ghost reach his sergeants while they’re still up that pole so he goes.

And if Nikolai’s promise of good food and his company makes him just a touch less harsher than he should’ve been then you won’t see any of the guys complaining about it.

~~~~

Oh my god! The 141 glaring Graves down or purposely steering Soap away from him at every available chance? Oof, thats fun.

That mf would get so salty he’d purposely start getting bolder with his flirting attempts and make shittier jokes, because if his time with Soap is gonna get cut down he’s gonna make sure it’s still worth it.

Price desperately wants to just kick the American out on his ass and call it a day but he knows Soap’s got a bit of a soft spot for him, plus he’d actually face very real and very serious repercussions from his superiors if he did that with no reason… viable reason that is.

Gaz shamelessly interrupts and drags Soap away whenever he catches so much as a glimpse of Graves near them. He can barely stand him on a good day, let alone one where he’s constantly going after his best friend.

Ghost doesn’t do much more than stare him tf down in that silent, semi-creepy way he has. Graves gets wildly unsettled by it because he knows (in his little lizard brain) that if he were to go toe to toe with him, not only would he lose but he’d also disappear off the face of the Earth. And that’s the last thing he wants right now.

Soap of course doesn’t have a damn clue, is honestly just happy to be with his team as often as he has been lately. He also enjoys hanging out with Graves, he likes having someone he can just have casual, light conversations with where its nothing more than good laughs and friendly interactions.

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r0und3bitch · 2 years

Text

𝕭𝖋𝖋’𝖘 - 𝕴 𝕯𝖎𝖉 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖉

𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕰𝖗𝖆 𝖀𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 ✰ 「𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊」

summary: you did something bad with your best friend… but why’s it feel so good?

warnings: 18+ only!!! best friends pairing, exhibitionist kink, cheating, partying, underage drinking, sassiness (lol)

notes: from the vault drafts ✨

word count: 1.2k

“Fuck—someone’s going to hear us. Ohhhh my god.”

“Shhhh, need you to relax” as another terribly stifled moan escapes you. “Thought you would like that.”

Like that — you did indeed, as his mouth attacked your most delicate needy area, feeling his tongue work against your pulsing clit, slow circles turning rapid. He’d pulled you away from the roaring party happening beneath you, discreetly yanking you into the small bathroom upstairs as he whispered something in your ear about a mirror.

“Right there! Right there, Rafe—“ His entire mouth ruining you as your cheeks puff out. Feeling one of his thick ring clad fingers slide into your tight hole, overstimulating you to the max. You’ve never had a man touch you like this and the result if obvious

“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

“Your mess— cause of you.”

The words made Rafe’s eyes turn dark before seeing them roll back into his head, only the top of his face visible as the bottom half completely devours you.

“Then why is your boyfriend downstairs right now, hmm? Hasn’t even glanced at you once all night.”

Rafe doesn’t bother mentioning that he heard your so called boyfriend downstairs talking shit to his friends. That he’d heard him in passing by trying to make his way to the keg, the vile words only to be followed by your name was all it took before he was finding you on the other end of the property. Coming up swiftly with a hand around your waist, already guiding you discreetly away upstairs.

The pout forming on your lips at the truth of it combined with his own attached to you, making a promise.

“I’d never…”

You gaze up into the full length mirror on the wall, eyes settling on the image of him on his knees in front of, devouring you whole and fully lose your mind, letting any hope of rationale or sense fade away.

Him, your boy, your actual boy on his knees before you, giving you his full and undivided attention is truly a sight to behold. Him, one hand wrapped tightly around your thigh, the other coming up to pinch your nipple between his fingers, only making you scream louder. Your hands, clutched down so hard that your knuckles are white, shake violently against the counter stop when you see those icy blue eyes catch yours.

Losing yourself in the blue depths; pleasure overtaking every single part of your body as Rafe gladly laps up your offering, taking every single ounce you gave to give him.

You’ve barely ridden it out before you’re mumbling incoherently, reaching for him.

“I need you, Rafe.” as he chuckes at your eagerness, causing your brow to furrow even though he’s already pulling his pants down, raising up to your level. “What do you want me to beg for it?”

You will. You would do anything.

“Never.” as he slides his thickness into you, feeling it stretch you out in the most intense way as he lets out an elongated groan.

“Ohhhh my god, this pussy. You feel so fucking good. Don’t be shy baby, I want everyone at this party to hear how good I’m fucking you, how damn good you’re taking me…”

As if on cue, you hear the sounds of fists knocking on the door against the loud moans Rafe’s drawing out of you, breathy pants filling the small space as you hear his skin smack against yours, not slowing down as he yells out a strained response.

“Someone’s in here!”

“Rafe—“ as you grab as his shirt, balling the material into your fists. “You feel so fucking deep in me, baby” you encourage him on. “Mmmmmm fuck.”

You lean slightly back so Rafe can get a better view of himself sliding in and out of you in the mirror in front of him. When he looks up his entire voice catches in his throat and comes out a snarl.

“Fucking Christ, Y/N” his grip on your hips is relentless as he ruts into even faster now. “You feel unreal.”

Your head spins at his words, feeling like your skin is on fire when a thunder like boom rattles from the door again several times, Rafe violently screaming his response while never tearing his eyes from you.

“FIND ANOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!”

There’s voices on the other end of the door but the observation doesn’t seep deeply enough into your brain for it to become an actual thought, the feeling of Rafe filling you whole the only capacity in your brain.

“You like being my little slut, don’t you? Hmm? You like knowing there’s people out there hearing you get fucked like this by your best friend while your boyfriends downstairs?“

His words should bother you, should riddle you with guilt. But they don’t.

Once Rafe had slightly tapped into your dirty talk kink, there was no turning back, driving full force ahead whenever given the opportunity.

“Yeah, baby? You just needed that dick so bad, hmm? Been begging me to fuck this tight pussy of yours the second we got here. Don’t think I didn’t see you looking at me the second you showed up here with him.”

“I can’t help it, Rafey.”

That word, used solely to irritate him throughout the course of growing up. A word once hated now made his cock twitch when uttered from the woman whose pussy he was currently buried into.

“You like being bad don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy. Mmmmm, I touched myself earlier thinking of you, right before he picked me up. I couldn’t help it.”

“Shit—You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me, Y/N. Spread your legs open further for me baby, I want to feel every part of you”

You gasp loudly when he hits that spot deep within you, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight forming that pit your stomach.

“Don’t stop, Rafe. I’m fucking begging you, please god don’t stop.”

“Fuck—hold on tight to me baby, I’m about to fuckin destroy you.”

“Ohhhhhhh my god!” You’re literally screaming at this point as Rafe fucks the life out of you, dick moving in and out of you at a relentless pace as your body is pounded back into the counter as neither of you even remotely attempt to keep quiet as both come undone, messy sounds erupting into a chorus of filth.

Not a minute later, the proof of your actions still blatantly obvious, Rafe pushes the door open, walking hand in hand with you out of the bathroom, greeting the now long line of people gathered in a line for the bathroom.

Among the irritated faces, Sarah Cameron stands with her arms crossed, disgusted look met with the worlds heaviest eye roll as the two of you walk past her.

“By the way Y/N, I saw Dylan downstairs. Ya know, your boyfriend - bet he would love to chime in on this...”

Rafe looks over to see that rare devilish grin take over your face, feeling you squeeze his hand that’s tangled with your own as you throw your head back at his sister laughing, resolve clear.

“Dylan who?”

Now all he thinks about is me I can feel the flames on my skin Crimson red paint on my lips If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming…

They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good

#bffs #Rafe #Rafe x you #Rafe x y/n #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe OBX #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fic #Rafe outerbanks #OBX #Rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #drew starkey

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

Text

Aviary Adventures

Summary: One of your worst fears comes to pass when your husband is nowhere around...

*Warnings: Fear of Birds, Chip Happy Bianca, Frightened Reader, Andy being a Hero, Fluff, Mentions of Ghosts, Minors DNI

A/N: Once again, I can’t sleep. Lucky me. This Growing Pains drabble is based on a very real fear of mine. It actually happened to a good friend not too long ago, who proceeded to look at the husband that she adores, only to yell “I can’t help you!” As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

---

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You screech as you throw yourself and your baby into the pantry before closing the door. “Are you okay, baby?” You whisper down at Bianca.

“Fine. Mama heavy.” She pushes at your chest. You were crushing your daughter. Oops.

“Sorry baby.” You murmur as you roll off of her. “Mama’s so sorry.”

“S’okay. Mama save BiBi. Fanks.” She wipes some hair out of her face and fluffs her little tutu.

Quickly you fish your phone out of your pocket and call Andy’s cell. It rings and rings before going to voicemail. Shit. Of all the fucking days. You try again before giving up and calling the office. You’re filled with hope when Grace, the receptionist, answers.

“Hi, Grace.” You babble. “It’s Y/N/L/N. Is Andy in the office?”

“Oh hi, Y/N. How are you?” She chirps.

“”Better days. I’ve had better days. Is Andy there?”

“He is, but he’s in a meeting. Can I take a message for you?” No, you sweet woman, you needed that man now!

“No - no…I…can you pull him out of it, please? It’s an emergency.” You watch as your baby girl grabs an open bag of barbecue chips and begins going to town. To be fair, you had been in the middle of preparing lunch. She sees you staring and offers you one, whispering: “Mama hungry?”. You thank her and shake your head no.

“Oh good god, is everything alright?” She exclaims. No, no it was not, Grace. You were pretty sure this was how you died, but okay. Take your fucking time, damn it.

“Please just connect me with Andy.” You whisper. A few moments later you hear a warm, familiar voice on the line.

“Y/N? Grace just pulled me out of my meeting. Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Andy.” You breathe. Thank god. You were saved. Maybe,

“Daddy? Hi, best Daddy!” Bianca squeals as she munches on another chip. You were going to have to take that bag from her eventually.

“Andy, you have to come home right now.” You’re doing your best to keep from crying. “Right now, okay?”

“What? Why?” You can hear the concern in his voice. Good. This was a dire situation. This was your living, breathing nightmare. And your baby was involved? Crap. If it had been just you, you would’ve said fuck it and just left the house. But with her here, your first inclination had been to throw yourself into the pantry.

“Because it happened, honey. It finally happened.” You wail softly.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what the fuck happened?” You can practically hear him raking his hands through his hair.

“There’s a bird in the house. It’s in the house!” And that’s when you finally start to cry.

Bianca takes the phone from you. “Big bird, Dadsy. I try to get, but Mama say no. Germs. Come get so Mama no cry. I keep safe. Fanks.” She hands the phone back. “I tell him.” She says before going back to her snack.

“Fuck.” Andy huffs. “How’d it get in?”

“I don’t know! The fireplace, probably! Come home and get the monster!”

“And where are you now?”

“Holed up in the pantry like a couple of prisoners! Your daughter is gorging herself on chips while I am losing my collective mind. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy, but I’d rather deal with an armed intruder. You’re going to have to come home and fix this. Please. I’ll, uh, respond in the form of certain favors for a month.” You let out a scream when you hear the damned thing fly around and crash into something. “Andy, I think it just flew into a cabinet.”

“Good. Maybe it’s stunned. Why don’t you step out and -”

“And walk willingly into the lion’s den? Are you crazy?” You all but shriek. “You know how I feel about birds. You know! You know my greatest fear is having to one day fight an ostrich!”

“Which I maintain is a ridiculous fear, but alright.” He mumbles. You can’t help but remember how hard he laughed when you’d first told him that. Ooh, you’d been so mad.

“We’ve discussed this. It would be like having to fight a villain in his or her final form.” No thank you.

“Are you coming home or not? Your baby and I are in danger. I am talking about true peril here, Andy. And our little one needs to eat her lunch. And Mama needs to be sedated.”

He heaves out a sigh. “Yes, yes. I’m coming now. Will you be able to help me with the bird?”

“With the creature!? Absolutely not. Go with God, sir.”

“I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. Will you be able to last until then?” The man is clearly more than a little exasperated.

“You had better hope so. I’ll protect our baby at all costs, but if something happens to me you are not allowed to remarry. Do you hear me, Andrew Barber? You take another wife and I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your days. And I will not be a peaceful ghost.”

“Understood, honey. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

True to his word, your husband arrives not even twenty minutes later. You jerk when you hear the knock on the pantry door. Bianca looks up from the fruit cup she’d been enjoying. Somehow you’d found a plastic spoon and had set her to eating some diced pears. It was better than chips, you’d reasoned.

“Hi, girls. It’s Daddy. Can he please come in?” Your baby begins to bounce up and down at the sound of his voice.

“Depends. Is it really you, or is it that bird pretending to be you?”

“It’s me, Y/N. And before you ask, no, I can’t find it. I’m still looking.”

“Come in.” You grumble. At the sight of his face, your baby drops her empty cup and rushes into his arms.

“Hi, my sweet baby.” He coos at her as he lifts her up. “Thanks so much for protecting your Mama. You hear me?”

“Welcome!” She kisses his bearded cheek with her sticky face.

“Close the door, Andy. If that bird gets in here…” He does as you ask with a sigh. Your husband didn’t even have the heart to make fun of your panic. He knew it was genuine.

“Tell you what…how about I get you girls bundled up and I take you to lunch? In the meantime, I’ll call an exterminator friend of mine who will come take care of things. Sound good?”

“I don’t want it to die!” You screech.

“Birdy gonna get hurt?” You could tell your Bianca was on the verge of tears. “Daddy no!” Now you’re both screeching at a bewildered Andy.

“He won’t hurt it. It will be totally humane, you two.” He growls as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now, I’ve laid your jackets out in the hallway. I’ve got my keys in my hand, so this should be smooth sailing, ladies. Let’s go.”

You whimper as you get up off the floor. Bianca is still in his arms, of course. “Protect her with your life.” You tell him. “You can even use me as a human shield if you have to, as long as -”

“As long as I don’t remarry. I heard you the first time. And since I’m pretty sure you’d be a very vindictive ghost, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve decided not to chance it.” He helps your baby put on her jacket while you keep an eye out for that damned bird.

“Now how about pizza?”

END

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nerdieforpedro · 4 months

Text

Chapter 5: Dissonance

Pleasure Principle Series

Main Masterlist/ Dave York Masterlist

Dave York x Kiara (plus size OFC)

This Fanfiction is 18+

Summary: Dave and Kiara can't seem to agree on anything that's not physical. A separation occurs and reflection is had by both parties.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual activity, a little blood, poor communication, Kiara's mom, implied domestic Dave?

Word Count: approx 4k (feelings are big 🫢)

Notes: This chapter is pretty tame actually. We're setting up for the next one. Context and all that jazz. I pinkie swear more smut is coming. Can't leave you high and dry? 😜 Plus I do smut with feelings now, sometimes.

Kiara called Dave ‘David,’ he didn't like that at all. She did it on purpose to piss him off. Tired of being led on and tired of not being fucked. Tired of wondering if they were going anywhere together or if they were just filling each other's needs for a time. After putting the medical supplies away, she leaned her forehead against her bedroom wall. She might be fine if it was just sex, but it’s not. He’s invaded her space since the first night. Granted she thoroughly enjoyed him doing so, but she thought there would be a separation. It also begged the question: did she want him to stay? Is that why she’s reacting like this?

Dave barrels upstairs, anger on his face but his tone is measured when he speaks.

“Call me by my name Kiara.”

“I’ll call you Dave when you tell me how long this is going to go on.. I’m not good with this ambiguous shit.” She does not turn to face him. If she does, he may see her eyes. They’ll rat her out. Dave’s nothing if not observant, much more than she is. He knew when all her shifts were, about how long it took her to get home. The shows she liked to watch, music she likes, what did she know about him? He’s at the very least some type of ex-military something. What exactly, she didn’t know. The man exudes confidence and can back it up though his speech, never using more words that needed but can be deviously charming when the need arises. God his mouth… even while she was pissed, the memory of it causes her to move her feet a bit closer so her large thighs press together. Damn him…

“You’re not? News to me, the last few weeks you’ve been fine with me buried in your soaked pussy while you attempted to suck the skin off my dick. We didn’t need to say anything else.” The assassin places his hands on her shoulders and turns her around to face him then, an arm at either side of her body to box her in against the wall, but doesn’t touch her again.

“But you also stay the night. Eat out with me-“ Dave laughs. Fucking smile, arrogant ass grin. Kiara can’t look at him in the face, she needs to stay mad. Confronting him is the only way to get an answer out of him. He always tells her she’s not ready, but for what?

“Just…you’re becoming…” The nurse is nervous that she’s admitting it. Saying it aloud is worse than just running it through her mind. It will be out and she won’t be able to take it back. Dave sighs, his broad shoulders slump slightly.

“Important is what you mean Peach. I know.” Her face snaps back to his. He knows?!

“If you know then why? Do you like fucking with me emotionally as well? I get sexually and I enjoy that about you…” She’s losing composure. She wants to grab hold of him, but he’s not that type of man. Casually in front of a TV or out and about is different then this type of intimacy, craving a comforting touch. Dave is much too hardened for that and she had no idea why. Her lips are quivering as she focuses on him. His face tells her nothing, gives nothing. How can he not react at all?

“Kiara you’re the one who hooked me in with emotions. I really was just going to fuck you and make it a few times a week. You being so open with what you wanted and letting me mark you. Use you, such a damn juicy and sweet Peach for me… It had me think about feelings I haven’t had since before I became the man I am now.” Dave peered into her honey eyes. It was something he had thought about since the first night. He had the idea and it was nagging at him, always on the edge of his thoughts.

“What…What feelings are you talking about Dave?” He doesn’t answer but keeps eye contact. She touches his face. “Are you saying you…what kind of feelings do you have for me? What do you want from me?” He could just tell her, but that required him to be honest. Something he has not been for years, it’s been a requirement not to be. He survived because he wasn’t. Deception, misdirection and backstabbing had kept him alive and his family fed and clothed since his military unit was disbanded, thanking him and his colleagues for their service to the Government.

“Don’t put it like that. You’re mine. I’m as unbridled in my desires as you are. It’s why we’re good together. You and I.” The confidant smirk on his face. The indignation returned. How dare he? Claim her while dismissing her at the same time. The gall of this man. Kiara wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to his cheek, giving it a small peck.

“Is that why you won’t fuck me Dave? Because we’re so good together?” A smirk for a smirk. If he’s going to say something as off the wall as ‘you’re the one who hooked me in with emotions,’ then he’s about to learn how petty she can be.

His lips tighten as he backs away. Still staring at her. His hands tighten into fists, his right hand turning crimson again from the pressure to his laceration. “I don’t need to tell you why I won’t fuck you. I told you you’re not ready.”

“You never said why I’m not ready. Is there a way I should be preparing for you Dave?” Kiara can see his face change now, he’s seething, jaw clenched. Normally this would be a moment where the nurse would see if she can either get another barrier between herself and whoever was angry at her or haul ass to the nearest exit. She knew. This was what she wanted. She was always the one who came undone, crying, overstimulated from his hands, lips, chest, toys, anything he felt like using on her. She wasn’t able to do the same, but she could break him by appealing to his pathos which he despised, more intensely then even she thought.

“You’re really going to be pushing this aren’t you? Just follow my-” Dave released his fists upon feeling wetness in his right hand, he likely had messed up the wrap she had put on it. Kiara was being entirely too bold. She apparently had forgotten that she’s supposed to adjust to him. Why wasn’t he fighting her so much on it then? Was he tired of not admitting it? No, he had told himself downstairs already what would happen if he did what he originally planned.

“Dave your hand,” Kiara’s eyes darted to her right and saw the blood, “Dave. Let me look at it.” The fingers from his right hand touched her cheek, smearing a few drops on her cheek. She looked beautiful in red, did he want to draw her into this world? He’s been able to keep them separate with his previous marriage, so much so that his ex-wife really still thinks he’s a contractor for the FBI. Kiara knows, not everything but enough to where she’d put some pieces together.

“No. Not right now. Just let me…Fuck.” Dave whispered to himself. Her concern and confusion were understandable, but he didn’t care. “You want to know how I really feel about you. What I really think Peach? Fine.” He placed his bloody hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn’t react at first, but her fingers found their way into the loops of his cargo pants. It could have been the frustration at not really saying what they meant or that they had just been arguing but as their tongues danced, they crept toward the bed falling onto it and laughing at how absurd the situation was.

It was then that Kiara initiated the kiss this time, grabbing Dave’s shoulders and pinning him under her. But after a few more make out sessions they both fell asleep in their clothes. Blood smeared on the pillows sheets and their clothes.

The pair were greeted by the sunlight of a new day.

Dave was awakened first. He cleaned and re-wrapped his hand, leaving a note for Kiara that he’d be back in a few days without injuries and an actual explanation. He watched her sleeping form, the blood he’d wiped on the back of her neck and smeared on the pillow and from where his hands had roamed, the stains may not come out of her robe or her sleep shirt. Staying would be good. It would actually be the correct thing to do, have another breakfast, sit and talk. But he did actually have an assignment that he needed to do. Could he commit to another woman? Did he want to?

“Peach, I’m not going to let you go, even if you’re pissed at me.” He walked back over to the bed and sat on the edge, Kiara rolled over toward the warmth but didn’t wake. His fingers ran across her cheek, heard a soft sigh. “So responsive, Kiara. When I come back, I’ll tell you why. You’ll think I’m an idiot but...” He chuckled to himself before standing and making his way to the bedroom door. He looked back one more time at her sleeping form, “I just can’t help the way you make me feel. I thought I hated it. I don’t. You’re also not getting away with calling me David.” The assassin exited out of the house, making sure to lock the door.

Dave and Kiara communicated via text mainly over the next month. The independent contractor couldn’t go into details but he said that the assignment had evolved into a large project, one that was becoming more and more tedious according to Dave. He only gave her the broad strokes, details involved that two of the targets were already down and their hard drives were wiped. Their homes and offices were ransacked, making it look like Corporate espionage and pinned the frame job on an opposing company so it would look like the two were instigating and fighting each other. Initially, it was just supposed to be the murder of the two targets, but more money was offered for the hardrives and the ransacking. Dave put his foot down after the frame job. It was becoming way too involved for his taste so he bowed him and his team out. More money was offered but it wasn’t worth getting that involved.

York also had a more pressing matter to attend to. He needed to see her. He told her that he’d explain via his three burner phones when he saw Kiara again, but he could tell even over text that she was getting frustrated again. And that was a week ago when he last texted her. York didn’t recall who stopped replying first. It didn’t really matter, he wasn’t going to play into it this time though. She’s fine to stew for a bit and the real lesson will take place when I get back… Dave rubbed his temples. Looking around the hotel he was put up in, it was fine. He’s been in better, but it’s only for tonight. He just needed a place to sleep though he wasn’t sleeping as well as he had been. Rubbing his neck, he took a shower to try and relieve some tension, it only helped slightly. Drying off and plopping down on the bed, it still lingered. I was going to say home. It didn’t take long. I haven’t gone soft have I? No, I just…fucking care dammit. He checked in with his team, who were in a few different hotels, and they were preparing to depart tomorrow morning as well. They’d separate for two weeks then meet up for their pay out and debrief. Dave shook his head and dozed off a few times during the night.

Kiara on the other hand, was not taking the lack of communication well. She was aware that he couldn’t go into detail about his work. It was better for her that he didn’t. However they had managed to sort of not be mad at each other through their intense and bloody make out session, it didn’t resolve anything. His note was still on her bedside table and she was angry with herself for looking at it when she woke up each morning. Maybe she was more frustrated than anything, despite her attempt, Dave still had the upper hand and he wasn’t here. It was then that she decided to pack a weekend bag and visit her family. She had stopped texting him when he mentioned that he had to ‘step away for a bit.’ It meant that he was about to go do, well whatever dangerous shit he was doing. The nurse knew she should have reached back out, but picked up an extra shift to distract herself from typing the same message repeatedly and not sending it.

The drive to her parents’ home was good, a few hours to listen to her playlists and zone out. Kiara found that she should have called ahead first though. There were too many cars out front…was something going on?

“Hey baby! You were able to make it! Your brother is visiting from Tennessee. Come on in!” Her mother had seen her from the window and came out of the house in her husband's oversized flip-flops. It was quite a funny sight and Kiara laughed when getting out of the car with her bag and purse.

“Hey Mom. I didn’t know they were coming in this weekend. Are they staying?” She asked on the way into the house, removing her hoses and taking out her slippers to put on. No shoes past the foyer.

“Socks, barefoot or slippers only. Lest you’re gonna start sweeping young lady.” Kiara recalled from her childhood. There were so many happy memories in this home, it was then that her mother said something odd.

“I thought your handsome friend would have told you. Your brother and his wife are stopping by before driving to see some friends outside of New York, then they’re going to come back and stay for a few days. They may be back in the middle of next week.” Her mother explained as Kiara sat down in the living room. Everyone else was in the den, laughter could be heard even with the door closed.

“Wait…what handsome friend?” The nurse asked her mother, holding her hand as her mother went to put on her purple sweater she wore around the house. Even after ten years, that sweater was still in pretty good shape. She laughed and kissed Kiara’s cheek, flicking her hand off, put on her sweater and sat on the couch, patting the seat on the couch next to her.

“He was tall, wearing a gorgeous dark gray suit. You can always tell a lot about a man and how he wears a suit. It was tailored and fit him quite well. No wedding ring and a nice full head of hair. I mean do prefer my men bald like your father, but his hair looked very soft. He seemed very nice. We had a light lunch while you were at work and chatted a bit. Dave I believe his name is. Why haven’t you told me about him? I hope it’s not one of those…what’s it called…situationships or whatever… He seems like a good man. He brought groceries and was putting them away.” After the initial shock of what her mother was saying, Kiara was forced to think. As pissed as she was at Dave, she couldn’t recall over the last few months, when she’d last gone to the grocery store or picked up her medications. She knew she did her laundry, but not as often as before maybe…so wait…is Dave really doing all this stuff? He is isn’t he…but then why won’t he just have sex with her? Is it a game? But then why be chummy with her mom?

“I was coming to check on you and see if you needed anything but it looks like you’re in excellent hands. I picked his brain about a few things while lunch settled and he walked me to my car. I didn’t tell your father about him yet though, he’d want to talk his ear off about the Marines and how it’s different from when he served. No one wants that.” She chuckled and patted Kiara’s knee. “I see you panicking, baby. Whatever it is, you should talk to him calmly. I know you can get loud and hold a grudge. Come on, let’s go see your brother and his wife. They can see you and then get out of my house. You know what they brought?! They brought your father a damn ten gallon hat and me one of those confounded jean skirts. What the hell do I look like wearing one of those?!” Kiara leaned on the door frame of the den after her mother opened the door. The woman’s face changed from that of annoyance to glee as she saw her grandchild and the little girl ran up to her.

Her brother’s visit listed a few more hours and then they hit the road. Kiara’s father strutted about the house in his new hat and wore it while watching his Gunsmoke DVDs but her mother folded the shirt and put it in the winter clothes bin never to be seen again, huffing that her daughter in law should have just got her a target gift card. Her parents fixed dinner and they ate together, laughing and reminiscing. It was a good escape for her, though when she went to bed that night, she was left with more questions. Kiara decided she would reach out first. She had checked her phone and didn’t see any new messages from any unknown numbers, though she wasn’t sure if he needed to switch phones again. She decided to send it to what she called his ‘off-duty’ phone, though she maybe shouldn’t have done it at 3am while she was still awake and pissed, why wouldn’t he mention meeting her mom? Has he gone through all the stuff in her house? What has he seen in her house?

So I visited my parents’ house and you didn’t mention that you met my mom, made her lunch and hung out with her. The more I think about things, the more ingrained you are in my life Dave. And I’m not entirely sure how you did it, but you did, like everything I guess. So are you just keeping me focused on work and doing kinky shit with you?

What does this all amount to? What do I mean to you?

You’d better explain like your note said. It’s still on my nightstand.

I had some holiday days to use up so I’ll be off for the upcoming week, if you don’t come home yet, then I’ll move some stuff around and see if you can find it while I’m at work since you know where everything is.

Kiara read over what she had sent him and realized a fatal error - she had referenced him coming home. That’s not weird right, he had been sleeping in her bed every night that he wasn’t on his ‘assignments’ but it’s her home. “He probably knows where my damn pads and razors are for goodness’ sake. It’s become more of his house and he didn’t even have to change any decor.” She decided to type out a follow-up before laying back down and sighing,

Do you want it to be your home too Dave? Is it already? It is weird when you’re not there. I’m insane, what am I even saying

Kiara decided to set her phone on the charger and send it, unaware that Dave was home and watching his phone flicker with the three little dots before they disappeared. She figured he wouldn’t see it for at least a few more days.

He had been reading along as she had been sending the texts after he’d got in. The plane ride back was shorter than expected and he came straight to her house. Dave had been in the kitchen when the first text came in and he silently cursed himself. He was going to mention meeting her mother but then he had a job that evening and had been injured, then they argued after she patched him up. Didn’t really leave much of a discussion after since he had to leave again.

Meeting Kiara’s mother was unexpected, but not unpleasant. She was actually funny and he learned a bit more about his peach and her family life. It seems that what he had found in his research was correct, it was a fairly stable childhood with a two parent household and she was indeed the only girl of a blended family. He did appreciate that her mother didn't distinguish between any of the children by calling them step-sons or daughter in laws. They were all her sons and daughters. Her mother did surprise him though, she told him that if he made her daughter cry or hurt her, she would cut him from ear to ear and removed a switchblade from her purse and smiled at Dave. Nodding he understood her intent and had even more respect for her in that he didn’t see it coming. He had assumed her arthritic hands wouldn’t be able to move so agility, but Kiara had mentioned that she recently had to discourage her mother from working on the roof herself. While walking the woman to the car, she gave him a hug and told him that, “we’ll see how things how things go between you two and I may call you son too Dave. Have a good afternoon.” She hopped in her car and drove off.

Dave was much more comfortable in Kiara’s bed then he had been the last month, her scent calmed him and he started at the ceiling. “It’s also weird when you’re not here Kiara.” He did chuckle at how she hadn’t noticed what exactly he had been doing for her this whole time, it meant that he was keeping her sufficiently distracted. He’d been slowly learning her home and maybe before this latest assignment, he was moving his belongings in, not that he had much in his condo anyway. He could sell the place and have one less end to tie up if need be. The money can go toward and trust for his daughters and take Kiara on a small trip to start.

“I’m planning a damn life with her for fuck’s sake. It’s a horrible idea. Didn’t work the first time.” Dave recalled what he thought one evening when they were watching some British baking show. There was an older woman with bright pink lipstick talking about someone’s ‘great bake’ that maybe was a squirrel? And there was a man with white hair, maybe it once was platinum blonde, but that’s white, he dyed it white. Kiara was watching intently, her large legs draped over Dave’s lap where he rubbed her skin, slowly, pressing into her flesh, he found it relaxing with the repeated motion and the weight of her legs made him feel grounded. He looked over at her with a small smile, shaking his head slowly. He’s watching this crazy ass show because he knows she’ll watch it for hours at a time and that means he gets to sit like this for those same hours. Under her weight, pressing into her skin and feeling content, hearing her laugh and talk at the TV, asking him if he saw what one of the bakers dropped, could it ruin their bake. Despite refuting it for years, the former marine still longed to hold onto something or someone.

“You’re not the only insane one Peach.” Dave muttered to himself as he drifted off to sleep, he’d tell her when she came home, well to their home now.

Dave York apologists: @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @goodwithcheese @musings-of-a-rose @iamasaddie @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @daddy-dins-girl

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #dave york x plus size reader #Pleasure Principle #The York Pit #Getting deeper with feelings #dave york #dave york x female reader

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eldritch-flower · 8 months

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Excerpt from my urban fantasy epic, "Zenith", because I'm writing this one 'reveal' scene and it's so difficult I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON IT FOR A WEEK AND I'M TIRED OF IT. Anyway, Zenith act 2 spoilers below the cut <3

Christ, the world was going insane.

It has always been insane, sir. You just never saw the truth.

Maybe Cuán was the one going insane. Hearing the voice of a dead man in his head, seeing all those- those mirrors that Danny said he wasn’t supposed to.

It was obvious something was going on. Something he didn’t understand, something he wasn’t privy to like the rest of his so-called ‘friends’ were. But he’d been drawn into whatever fantasies they claimed by murdering Jedidiah Shaffer in that casino. Cuán had thrown himself into the shit without a shovel to dig himself back out. And he had to live with that, consequences be damned.

So what? He was surrounded by alleged beings of… inhuman nature, most likely powerful. He didn’t doubt that any of the three in the room with him could kill him if they really wanted. Did they want to? No. They would have done it by now.

None of them were the kind to procrastinate.

“Cuán?” That was Afshani; dear, sweet Sammy. Cuán raised his gaze from the bohemian patterned rug thrown across the floor. “Are you alright?”

“Not really.”

Tommy huffed out a stiff laugh, strong arms folded over his chest. Tommy… should Cuán even still call him that? Or was he supposed to address the God as such?

“You said you’d already had experience with True World folk, Cuán. We didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” Sam said gently. The softness of their voice was like a cleansing lotion to the turmoil in his heart.

Susie frowned, studying Cuán indiscreetly: “You’ve seen others?”

The man nodded, slowly, and her mouth fell open.

“Other than me?”

“He said he’d seen a grindylow,” Sam said quietly, and Tommy raised an eyebrow. “And – Cuán, forgive me if I’m wrong in saying so… but you mentioned a banshee.”

“Aye.”

“You’re kidding,” Susie breathed out, sitting forward on the sofa. Her nails clawed at the plush fabric of the arm like, well… like claws. “Cuán, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Ain’t the type of thing I’d deem funny, Shiori,” he said stiffly.

“You’re done for, Dunleavy,” Tommy supplied unhelpfully. His words were contrite and filled with the same mirth he always spoke with, but the god’s face was a display of uncertainty that Cuán had never seen embedded in the strong lines of his jaw, in the set of his brow. He looked nervous.

“Don’t say that, Vulturnus,” Sam snapped, losing their collective mind for a moment as they examined Cuán with honey-flecked eyes.

“We can figure this out,” Susie said quietly. “People have outrun their fates before.”

“He knows nothing of the true world, Su. And he’s gonna have Reapers after him – “

Shiori bristled, leaping to her feet. “Who said anything about Reapers being involved?”

Tommy sneered: “The hospital think he’s an illegal. He didn’t have a licence.”

“He doesn’t need one! He’s a human!” The woman’s loud voice rang out, and Cuán pressed a hand to his temple as Shaffer sat in the forefront of his mind, content to watch and not say anything. His black amusement crept like a plague into Cuán’s own sensibilities.

“They don’t know that.”

Susie inhaled sharply, her jaw clenching, and she rounded on Cuán with fiery eyes. “You can’t just make anything easy for us, can you?”

“Hey, lady. You tell me first what a ‘reaper’ is and maybe I’ll get to workin’ on my teamwork skills,” Cuán growled back, green eyes narrowed in frustration. “You all sit here, playing human and pretending to care. But you’re so far removed from what it’s like to know nothing. So stop talking like I’m supposed to have a clue what’s goin’ on, and explain.”

Shiori stared at him, her dark eyes heated, knuckles white and clenched at her sides. Sam just watched him with a forlorn expression. Out of all of them, remarkably, it was Brown who looked the least concerned… and that, in and of itself, concerned Cuán.

Do not concern yourself with their fear. You are more than that. You are better.

#I love writing dialogue #specifically between susie and cuán #wip : zenith #urban fantasy #original writing #writeblr #writing community #creative writing #writers of tumblr #wip #excerpt #writing excerpt #writing snippet #dialogue ideas #writing prompt #fantasy #fantasy writing #supernatural horror

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theravenclawlover · 2 years

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Hi! Okay so…Druig being into the breeding kink even if he knows he can't have kids, but he doesn't do it for that…he just loves fucking you day and night…knowing that at the end he will fill you up with his cum...

I—

Warnings: +18, Minors DNI. C word usage bc I prefer it than pussy if I’m honest.

(Old request: 06/20/22)

Druig x AFAB!Reader

You knew being with an Eternal came with many possible conflicts like having to adjust with the idea that they were practically gods, had ridiculous superpowers, you had worries about the future as you were human, and the biggest one was knowing that you would never achieve eternity with Druig, but nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared you for this man to completely disregard that whenever he pinned you down or against something to shove his cock inside you and promise you to fill you to the brim with his cum.

Day and night, Druig found reasons to be turned on.

“You’re just so cute, darling,” he says while giving you quite the salacious grin. “Can’t help myself.”

“You’re the one that decided to wear that dress,” he rolls his eyes. “Let alone bending down in front of me.”

“No bra means my hands need to cover them gorgeous girls,” he grins when his hands cover the clear shape of your tits through your tee.

You didn’t mind his high stamina or the fact that he was always horny, the man made your legs quiver just by smiling at you. So, it wasn’t a surprise you never complained even when your rolled your eyes and huffed and puffed, especially when you got to see that man lose all filter when he was balls deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, hands holding the back of your knees so he could see just how fast his dick was fucking you. “You’re taking me so good, darling. So so good.”

It drives you stupid at seeing how pussy drunk he got, but you were not different being all cock drunk as well. The feeling of him swiftly thrusting in and out, skin slapping, reddening skins, the squelching of your pussy mixed with the feeling of his balls slapping your ass—it all made you both very sex drunk.

“Ah fuck, s’good,” you moan as your hands grasp harshly at your thighs making sure you were obscenely spread out for Druig. “Fuck me s’good.”

“You’re pussy is so perfect,” he grunts, his hips practically forcing you to bounce a little because of how fast and hard he was going at it. “Pussy so ready for my cock, swallowing me whole like the greedy little thing it is.”

By the point he starts throwing praises at you and your cunt, you’re always half aware of your surroundings as the only thing you can focus is how his cock is forcing a very intense orgasm out of you.

Your hands leave your thighs to grasp at the messed up sheets, your back arching, neck popping slightly as it slightly turns to the side as your eyes roll back when you cum with a loud mix of a whine and scream.

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” Druig hisses as he tries to fuck you properly while you practically choke his cock, his own legs trembling at the feeling of your pussy, and let alone the damn sight of you cumming has him babbling.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” he says as he pushes himself on you, bringing your legs to your chest, his cock now fucking you deeply and shallowly. You whine as his pelvis rubs your clit harshly, and you were crying but oh so moaning to him to let you cum again—and you’re very close again as he barely let you come down.

“Come in me, please, in me,” you whine as your hands pull on his damp hair from all the sweating.

“Fuck, always wanting my cum inside you. Always begging with tears—fuck—want me to put a baby in you, huh?” He moans against your lips. “Want to be full of my cum again, baby?”

And he knows very well you do, because he does. He loves the idea of fucking his cum into you, hearing the loud squelch of his cum and your own slick being thrusted into you makes him very much drunk no matter how many times he’s done it, his favorite place to cum is your pussy.

You both moan loudly when you cum again and he follows right behind, burying his cock so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your guts. You buckle your hips slightly at the overstimulation.

When he pulls back and out of you, you gaps and he moans because your pussy is spasming still, and his cum is slowly threatening to spill out.

“We can’t have that now, do we?” He says as two of his fingers shove the cum back in. “There we go, back where it belongs.”

“Druig,” you moan at the feeling of his fingers, hips trying to both back away and ride his fingers.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he chuckles, slipping his fingers out and sucking them clean. “I’ll let your greedy cunt rest before I fill her up with more of my cum.”

#theravenclawlover #June 2022 #Druig #Druig x reader #Druig x reader smut #Eternals #mcu #marvel

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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months

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The Dream - Chapter Twenty Four.

Huge thanks to everyone for your engagement :) We’re not far from the ending now, just four more chapters and an epilogue to go. Thanks so much for sticking with me!

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,007

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“It’s getting bigger,” Keri spoke, looking up at the black obelisk. “Strange, since you’re coping well with me being away. Well, you’re telling me you are. I guess I can’t one hundred percent know for sure.”

Angel took her hand in his, turning away from the huge, black structure that still occupied their mutual dreams. “You can know for sure, cuz’ I’m fine with it. I miss the fuck out of you and it’s only been six weeks, but I’m good.”

Turning to him, she held a little space between her thumb and forefinger. “Just this much?”

It was their thing, and he loved it. “Yeah, just that much.” Folding his arms around her, he walked her away from the obelisk, going over to a door by the rotting old staircase and opening it up, both of them stepping out with a slight pull to their middle, feeling the dream change, their surroundings changing to that of the wildflower meadow they’d met in so many times before in their sleep. “So, tell me more about Australia that you haven’t when we’ve talked on FaceTime.”

“You would lose your damned shit at the spiders here, baby!” she snorted, remembering the one she’d seen in the bar she and the band had visited during a night off, a huge creature that had ran out from behind a picture frame on the wall. Angel would have been out of there in three seconds.

He rumbled quietly with laughter. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, and all the fuckin’ snakes and shit they got out there!”

“I haven’t seen any of those so far,” she spoke, looking out into the meadow, her feet planting them both by what they witnessed. Once again, there it was, rising up from the dirt. The obelisk. They couldn’t escape it, it seemed. “This thing again?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, pulling her in the other direction. “Maybe it means something else? Because I know it ain’t my shit. I’m dealing with it, being a goddamned adult for once.”

It had crossed her mind, that the foreboding looking structure represented something else, something yet to come that they would have to deal with. Something that didn’t vanish. And there it stayed in their dreams, too, every night, in whatever setting they were in. In fact, the only place it was ever absent was when they found themselves in the blissful surroundings of the white room.

“You, me and a bed. Shit, I’m missing this. It ain’t easy being a horny person when your woman is halfway around the world,” he told her, kissing her neck, his hand between her legs, stroking at the sumptuous warmth of her arousal.

“Yeah,” she breathed, hands running over his chest and arms. “I’m not about to turn down dream sex. No way, mister.” It was a little strange, knowing sex first hand with Angel, to now be once again enjoying it in her sleep and having to focus hard not to wake up. With how good his fingers felt rooted so deeply within her, he didn’t make that easy, Angel lifting her leg over his hip and slotting himself between hers, pushing into her fluidly, the punch of his cock deep.

Their kisses swirled with lazy heat, his arms wrapped around her, hips driving into her slowly, turning her onto her back and then sitting up, clasping her to him. She hummed softly, kissing him between little exclamations of pleasure and words of love. God, how she missed him, wishing so hard that it was real, maybe a little too much, suddenly waking up to see sunshine filling the hotel room she was in, the soft tones of Dolores, the band’s singer who she was sharing the room with filtering in from the bathroom.

“Well, somebody was having nice dreams, so!” she chirped, her soft Irish lilt amused. Shit! Had she sleep moaned? Oh, the embarrassment!

“Erm, yeah. Dreaming of my boyfriend,” she spoke, sitting up, Dolores’s smile huge as she came back in, pulling on her long, lace kimono over her shorts and vest.

“Ahhh, and if I had a guy as lovely looking as your fella, I’d be dreaming of him all the time, too!” she laughed, squeezing a little hair cream into her hand before rubbing her palms together and distributing it through her long, amber coloured curls. Keri truly had never seen hair so beautiful before, Dolores a very photogenic subject of her photography.

Their day was mostly filled by travelling to the next gig venue, Keri staying out of the way as the crew set up, taking candid pics of the band before grabbing herself an ice-cold beer and going to sit outside in the sunshine, working out the time difference. It would be morning back home, and while knowing her honey appreciated sleeping in, a certain two would be up.

“Beets! How’s it going?” Frankie cried happily, still in her pyjamas as she answered the FaceTime call. “Damn, it’s so sunny there! We got clouds and humidity. It’s making my hair fluff!”

She giggled, witnessing the halo of fuzz surrounding Frankie’s usual silky straight tresses, Jaime suddenly coming into view, chewing through a large orange segment. “Hey love! Oh, look at that tan! You look so gorgeous!”

“Hey Jaime, aww, thanks!” she waved, her heart full, but tingling a little. She missed them so, so much. Sure, it was an opportunity she couldn’t have passed up, even garnering a little work here and there through her travels through the land of perpetual sunshine, people wanting their portrait pictures taken by a professional photographer, but to have left her loved ones behind was something she wasn’t unaffected by.

They chatted for a short time before Frankie had to hit the laptop and continue the website building practice she was undertaking, Jaime also heading out to work. It was just as she’d ended the call that Keri suddenly remembered, she’d meant to ask the latter for a little insight into the significance of continuously seeing an obelisk in her mutual dreams with Angel.

“Well, Google is the next best thing.” Calling up the search engine app, she typed her question in, receiving a few varying results. Most said the interpretation was sexual from the phallic structure of the obelisk, Keri wondering what on earth that meant, since it began appearing after them having sex in reality. Hmm. Perhaps not that. Unless it was a representation of how well they fitted sexually? Hmm. Perhaps that.

“And I really fucking miss that big D.” she chuckled softly to herself, continuing to read.

It was also a sign of faith and spiritual significance, which Keri could possibly get on board with. Maybe it was there to show them that though separated, and likely to continue to be so as she embarked on further travel with her work, that they should have faith in their relationship, faith that it could work just fine, although they would be parted for longer periods at times.

“An obelisk looming up stately and cold in your dreams is the forerunner of melancholy tidings. For lovers to stand at the base of an obelisk, denotes fatal disagreements.”

That explanation was far more foreboding, yet she couldn’t understand what kind of fatal disagreement could possibly arise for them. Angel was doing well with being parted from her, he’d told her that and she believed him, but she couldn’t discount that perhaps they could have other issues in the future. A fatal disagreement, though? How ominously worded.

Shaking it from her mind, she continued to enjoy her beer, joined by Luke, the band’s cheerful drummer, taking the cigarette he offered her with thanks.

“I’m glad I’ve got you someplace quiet, mate,” he began, lighting up and handing over the petrol lighter to her. “So, me sister is getting wed in just over eight weeks, and well, I was gonna do the photography myself, being a little handy with a camera.” Her crinkled nose cracked him up. “Oi! I’m not that bad, so I’m not! You with that face!”

Her laughter continued. “Luke, stick a set of drumsticks in your hand and you’re pure fire, but a camera? Not so much.”

“You’re a cheeky shite, Keri Jane!” His words only encouraged her giggles, his huge, blue eyes widening. “Anyway, and it pains me to say this now, but you’re much better at it than me. So, I wanted to gift them a proper photographer for the wedding. Money is tight for them, but the bloody advance we got from the record company has lined me pockets nicely, so, and well, if I pay your air fare and hotel, would you consider doing it? Maybe gimmie a wee mate's rate, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

Going back to Ireland, getting to spend more time with the band and get paid for it? It was a no-brainer. “Alright, how is seven hundred dollars for you? I think that works out to about six hundred and fifty euros, which is literally half of what a wedding photographer would usually charge. I’ll give your sister and her new husband all of the images I take as well, she won’t have to choose between them like a lot of photographers stipulate.”

Luke offered his hand across the table. “Bloody got yourself a deal, Keri!” They shook on it, continuing to enjoy their beers in the sun, the tour manager Steph coming out and handing over a couple more. Life was so wonderful in her world at that moment, Keri only wishing that her love could be there to enjoy everything she was experiencing right by her side.

As the tour progressed, each night she’d fall asleep and almost always find Angel there waiting for her, but nothing, absolutely nothing could feel as amazing as it did as she ran through the airport towards him after landing from a long flight, her man there at 3am to collect her from San Diego.

“Oh my god, I missed you so much!” she cried, overjoyed to be in his arms again, Angel lifting her, her legs wrapping around his waist as she let her hand luggage drop to the floor, her arms wound around him in a tight hug he reciprocated.

“I missed you too, tiny girl.” They fell into a kiss, absolutely overjoyed to be reunited before he finally placed her down and they walked hand in hand to go and collect her luggage. She’d left her Jeep with him, so that he’d be able to drive it up to collect her, having a vehicle capable of getting her suitcase and photography equipment into, all of which she checked meticulously after pulling it from the luggage carousel.

As soon as they got to her car, his yawns dictated that she’d be the one driving them home, Keri still on Australia time, so feeling wide away and fresh. Angel slept for around forty of the fifty-five minutes it took to get down to Santo Padre. As soon as they were back in his house, though, sleep was the last thing on his mind, Keri thrown over his shoulder and carried to the bedroom.

“Oh no, mister, there’ll be none of this.” Turning him onto his back, Keri sat herself astride him, her hand curling around his neck and pushing him down, leaning to him. “I’m in charge, and you’re going to lie back and enjoy it, all the energy I have, being on Australia time.”

Being pinned beneath his gorgeous girl; what wasn’t to like about that scenario? “Alright, but I gotta request if I’m staying on my back. You bring that pretty little pussy right on up here and take a seat on my face.”

Fair. After they’d shed their clothes, it was exactly what she did, too, Angel noticing immediately that something was different in so much as that all she had remaining there was a narrow landing strip of hair. “Oh, someone got a haircut.”

“Well, more of a ‘hair yanked out at the roots’, yeah. You like?”

He laid a kiss to her slit. “I like however it comes, baby. What made you decide on almost bare?”

She shuddered softly at feeling his tongue skim a little lick over her outer lips, kisses beginning to wet her inner thigh. “Dolores and I got talking, and she said it’s a more intense sensation when you have someone going down on you. We also discussed something else that adds to that, which you’ll notice if you look a little closer.”

Curious, he gently rubbed through her slit with his fingertips, finding exactly what she meant when they made contact with the tiny, pink titanium ring pierced through her clit hood. “Woah. That’s so fucking sexy! Shit, imma have so much fun with this.”

Keri buzzed with excitement at wanting to know exactly how much different it would feel for her, to experience his mouth without the barrier of the soft, trimmed hair there. Her brand-new piercing, too, which whenever she’d found some time alone, she’d had a little play with and decreed was worth the initial pain of the piercing, almost breaking Dolores’s fingers with how tightly she’d hung on while having it done.

His first licks were teasing, running over the newly bare flesh, Keri closing her eyes, the tickle of his tongue a much different feel than before. God, it made it even more intense, the flat, firm lick he then laid through her folds making her thighs quiver, the tip of his tongue landing against the piercing, beginning to move it back and forth.

The wave of pleasure that began to skitter over her nerve endings was unlike anything she’d experienced before, Angel moving his tongue in a way that kept wet warmth massaging her bud, while the ring was continually moved back and forth, her nails grasping at his arms, a soft cry leaving her mouth. “Fuck, Angel. Fuck!”

A shiver ran through him at hearing her voice break upon his gasped name, his hands running up her body, a soft grasp fixing at each breast, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. “Get these pierced next.”

“Mmm, maybe,” she chuckled, the heat of his lips closing upon her clit and sucking sending her reeling. “Oh god, I missed that mouth!” The pleasure that streaked through her like a hail of comments did nothing but grow, flurries of tingles charging over her body, moaning uncontrollably at the sparks evoked by the suck of his lips.

Releasing her, he beat his tongue back and forth over her little swollen bud, the pressure mounting, her body juddering as with a series of soft cries, she capsized completely, her waves breaking over his shore as her release washed over her in ceaseless waves.

While she might have been the one in charge, as Angel began to lick at her once again as her sensitivity subsided, Keri surrendered completely, her petal soft flesh rubbed wetter by the inquisitions of his tongue as he gave her clit lots of attention, making it stand even harder.

He got off on the fact she had a piercing down there greatly, seeing it as something extra he got to play with while participating in his favourite pastime. If he could, he’d go down on her all day, every day. There was nothing he loved more than a mouthful of cunt.

Beating the tip of his tongue against her clit he also moved the ring back and forth, making her gasp and moan as pleasure burned through her like a tempest, wildfire personified, her thighs brushing his face as she writhed against his mouth

“Oh, fuck! Right there, please don’t stop!” she cried out as she felt him tug at her piercing, his deep, lust drenched groan arousing her even further. She loved how turned on it made him whenever he went down on her. A man who thrived upon pleasing a woman with his mouth was eroticism incarnate.

“Stop? No way, mamas. Ain’t happening.” Demonstrating such, he wrapped his mouth around her entire cunt and gave it a good, hard suck, biting gently at her labia too as she wiggled against his face and cried out ferally.

He then continued to go back to what he was doing, each fast, hard lick against her clit having her panting and moaning as she dragged her nails through his hair, feeling herself getting ridiculously wet for him. Testament to that, when he slid his fingers into her it was like cutting through liquid silk, fucking her with them hard and watching her become completely carried away with everything he inflicted upon her.

The feeling of her aroused gush dampening his chin as he continued to lick at her vigorously had him so turned on, he could barely stand it, pulling his fingers out and sucking her milky wetness off them before burying his tongue inside her and moaning as he felt her legs close against his head. His tongue rolling over her clit again and again as it lapped up her silky nectar had her reeling, lost in the storm of pleasure, her body shaking.

Lightning bounced at the base of her spine as he sucked on her harder, the vacuum of his lips sending her straight to her second crest, ecstasy glimmering through her as her hips bucked, riding out her orgasm against his mouth, panting in exertion. “Fuck! Oh, fucking hell, you’re too fucking good at that!”

Looking up at her, kissing her inner thigh, he grinned. “I know. Now, you gonna ride me into this bed, or what? Because shit, baby. That got me so damned hard.”

Moving to straddle his hips, she slid down upon the thick, hard erection waiting for her, kissing her way back up his chest, her hand moving to clutch his throat. “Yeah, he likes being held down.”

His eyebrows fluttered. “Yeah, I do. Mostly though, I just like having you home.”

Now there was a notion she could definitely agree with.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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