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#okay now I'm left to the weekend with all of that on my mind
a-lil-strawberry · 7 months
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One outcome I didn't expect from an outing with coworkers at a bar after a long week was an extreme state of existential dread, but here I am
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cryptotheism · 1 year
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Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.
The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?
Caller: Hello! Hi! So, uh, first time caller. My name is Zuri. I run a barley and flesh farm about an hour south of Isin. I'm in the market for a new rig. My last rig kicked the bucket. But I have an, uh, odd request that I was hoping you two could help give me some guidance on.
The Bear: Welcome to the show doll, we'd be happy to help. But first, I gotta ask, what were you running before and what happened to it?
Lilly: Yeah! We gotta know what we're dealing with here.
Zuri [beginning to laugh]: So we had an Arcadia Y-400-
[both hosts erupt into laughter]
Lilly: And it broke!?
The Bear: Doll what in the hell did you do to this thing!?
Zuri: [laughing] Listen! Listen! It was my grandfathers! We had been replacing parts on this thing since before I was born! It was its time!
The Bear: Lilly, is she dodging the question?
Lilly: I think she's dodging the question, Bear.
The Bear: Okay okay, so what exactly did you do to destroy this extraordinary museum piece?
Zuri: [laughing] Oh gosh I don't want to say it now.
[The hosts erupt with encouragement]
Zuri: My sons will play this game, where I'll be out working in the field. You know, rigged up, focusing on tilling. They'll sneak up behind me with their rigs on, jump up, curl up into a little ball, and try to lock themselves to my back-jack in the cargo position...
[The hosts are howling with laughter]
Zuri: They're- They're damn good at it too! My oldest, Zair, can do it in on solid motion. Its like one moment I'm minding my own business, the next moment I have a whole kid in a 100 pound work rig locked to my back!
Lilly: What a riot! Oh this is just dangerous to put on the air.
The Bear: Ahem, to all the parents at home we apologize in advance, please don't sue us.
Zuri: So- So one day- One day my youngest tries it, but he doesn't twist around fast enough, and the aux battery on the left arm clips an exposed spinal neurohelix. Zap! Neuros are fried. My legs and arms lock straight like stilts! Now I'm swearing up a storm, you know- "You little rats!" But I'm hobbling like a circus performer trying to chase em down and they're just dying. Musta been the funniest damn thing they've ever seen.
[The hosts continue to laugh uproariously at this]
The Bear: Doll we gotta get to advice part of the show or the network is gonna give YOU a show.
Lilly: What a way to go! You hit an aux to the spinal braid? That's fried. Done. Kaput. You gotta scrap that thing.
Zuri: Yeah, we've already gutted it. Old girl is rusting in the barn for parts now. Zair is a whiz, so I'm hoping he can get some good use out of it.
The Bear: So we hear you're looking for a new rig?
Lilly: What's your price point love?
Zuri: We've got a good chunka cash built up. We're looking at something in the 600 to 700 washer range.
The Bear: That's pretty good for a work rig. You've got a lot of choices.
Lilly: I have a sneaking suspicion that this price point has something to do with your special request?
Zuri: So, my oldest, Zair. I recently learned that he's been uh. Well gosh now I'm embarrassed about this too!
The Bear: Doll c'mon don't hold out on us!
Lilly: You called, we can handle it!
Zuri: I learned that Zair had been using the Arcadia to race on the weekends. He and some of the local kids would run street races at night. He's been rigging a grapple harness to the waist-jack, and stripping it before I need the rig for monday morning.
[The hosts laugh at this, though not as hard]
Lilly: Ha! So what you're saying is you want the biggest, slowest, beached-whale rig you can get? Something just impossible to race?
The Bear: I'm thinking an HR&R Pauldron, Heavy Industrial. With that type of money you can get the new 900 series. Ask for the high-stability option-
Zuri: No no! No you don't understand! The damn kid keeps placing last because he's been racing in a junker! What I'm lookin' for is something I can use as a work rig for the days, that's easy to strip and good to race on the weekends. I want it safe, you hear me? I can't stop this kid from racing, so I might as well get something that'll keep his skull together.
[The hosts explode into laughter again]
Lilly: You! You're a good mom! What I wouldn't give for a mom like you!
The Bear: Ma'am, one day, when I grow up, I wanna be like you. I wanna be that typea mom.
Zuri: So, can you help me?
[The hosts can be heard stage whispering for a moment, followed by the sound of cracking knuckles.]
The Bear: Okay. You've got a lot of good options here. My friend here wants you to get a sport rig, but that's not gonna have the torque you need for farmwork: Here's what you're gonna do-
Lilly: Would to! Have you seen what the Roadrunner 600 can do? Six point neuro uplink! Eighty pneumatic helices per leg! Tell me that's not good enough to rig a plow!
The Bear: The dirt Lil! We need solid-body articulation! Using a pneumo-helix for farmwork is like pouring sand into clockwork!
Lilly: You replace the dermis with a synthetic sheathe! I get no respect around here!
The Bear: Zuri, doll, here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go to your local Post Office outpost. You're gonna ask if they have any old courier shipping rigs. You want middlegrade. Ask specifically if they have an Albatross W-500, or if you're lucky, an LH-640. These are long-haul light-load shipment rigs. They're ugly, but they're sturdy as hell, built for carrying things long distances through rough terrain.
Lilly: The kicker here is that they're both light-combat certified. Built-in medical and shock response treatment. You'll need to replace the medical gel canisters every few months to make sure they're fresh... And if a certain someone wanted to maybe engage in a little bit of light illegal street racing...
The Bear: Well the Albatross line is built to be constantly refitted for different weathers and terrains. So someone, not saying who, might have a real easy time stripping the plating for speed. That sound good doll?
Zuri: That sounds perfect, thank you so much girls!
The Bear: Perfect! Thank you for the call, you'll have to tell us how it goes!
Lilly: Please love we beg you! Call again! Toodle-oo!
Zuri: Thank you again!
[The caller hangs up, the show transitions into a commercial break]
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mssainz · 1 month
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PART 3 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Angsty
AN: Here's the next part, my loves! This one is a little break from the happy side. Please comment so I can add you to the taglist. Happy race weekend!
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“I hope you don't mind if I take Cael first to bed. I bet he is tired already from all the running,”
“Not at all, take all the time you need,” Carlos said.
Take all the time I need. Yeah. I wish I heard that from you five years ago.
You let Carlos in and have him wait in the living room. You make your way upstairs to Cael's designated room to take care of him.
“Mama, Uncle Chilli really looks like Papa,” Cael said to you while you're busy scrubbing his arms.
“You think so?” He might not have met Carlos before but you never deprived him with information about his father. You let Cael know who Carlos is and let him watch his races and interviews. It's the least thing you can do for him.
“Yes, Mama. He also sounds like Papa.” Cael said while playing with his bath toys. You were amazed by how observant your son is.
After giving him a quick shower and comfy pajamas, you tuck him in bed. Luckily, it didn't take too long for him to fall asleep.
“You had fun playing with Papa, hmm? I'll introduce him to you soon baby, not as Uncle Chilli. Please bear with Mama, okay?,” You whisper to your sleeping son while caressing his cheeks with the back of your index finger. You planted a kiss on his forehead before leaving his room.
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You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before stepping a foot on the stairs. The time finally came, you will now tell him about Cael and answer whatever he might ask. You saw Carlos seriously sitting at the couch. His aura is now different from a while ago. You slowly approach him but you remain standing in front of him to keep your distance.
“Hey,” You said to catch his attention.
“Is he asleep?” Carlos asked and did not even look at you. You simply nod and say yes to him. Both of you remain silent for a few seconds before he finally asks a question.
“Cael. Is he mine?”
“Yes, he is. I brought him here to meet you. But not this way obviously,”
“But- but why now? He is already four years old, Y/N! All these years why didn't you tell me about him!” You were taken aback when Carlos raised his voice.
“You stole four fucking years of my life not knowing I have a son. What kind of mother are you? How could you do this to me?” and there it is, Carlos dropped the bomb straight at you.
This conversation escalated so quickly that you didn't expect that Carlos would burst out in an outrage towards you. Your heart sank and you felt that all your blood rush into your head. You know that he could get mad about what you did. But you didn't expect that his anger would come with sharp critical comments about you.
And before you can even think about it, you find yourself matching his flames, releasing your inner madness and equally raising your voice towards him.
“I know that you would be mad at me, you have every right to be. But asking me how could I do this to you! Oh God, Carlos, you tell me! How could I do this to you!” and your tears started falling. You slightly moved towards Carlos and pointed a finger at him.
“I am not the one who cheated! I am not the one who was caught kissing another woman in his driver's room! I am not the one who filed the divorcement papers! And I'm not the one who left our home! Tell me Carlos, how could I do this to you! I literally found out I was pregnant with Cael the day you brought those papers and packed your bags. You have given up on us before I could even tell you!”
"How would I know that you want us in your life when you literally screwing another woman when we're still together! And don't even ask me about what kind of mother I am! Because you don't know what I’ve been through. You don't know how difficult it is to swallow my pride and set aside my resentment for my son to meet you, his father! The man who made me believe that he loves me! The man who cheated on me and left me broken. You don't know, Carlos! You don't know what I had to do! You don’t.” Your confession left Carlos unspoken. This is the first time you actually open up about what happened a few years ago.
His face has softened by what you said. You’re right, he doesn't know and he chose the wrong button to press when he questioned you. After hearing your side, he realizes that he is at fault for everything. But to be honest, asking why you didn't tell him wasn't the thing that upset you. You expect him to be asking that. But it's his tone and other questions that caught you off guard and made you ballistic.
“I'm sorry, Y/N. I-”
“You should go home, Carlos. I- I don't think I can do this right now,”
“But-”
“Please, Carlos. I beg of you,” you cut him off firmly before he can even finish his sentence. Carlos had no choice but made his way to the door and drove home.
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You're on your bed staring at the ceiling. You can't fall asleep after having an intense conversation with your ex-husband. You know that you will have to explain things to him. But you didn't expect that it would turn that awful. The whole argument made it more difficult for you to introduce him to Cael.
So what now?
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AN: How was the story so far guys? I hope you nailed spilling YN's line. Love y'all!
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TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @bearryyy @mahii7 @mxdi0 @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @madkohi @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr
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woewriting · 1 month
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amae (ii)
pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: cairo's actions continue to frustrate you, but when unspoken words are finally said out loud, you understand her. word count: 4619 warnings: mdni, +18 only! jumpscare: mr. miller, sexual tension, a bit of angst, jealous cairo, small reader x winnie situation, scisorring, face riding (reader receiving), language, smut in general, brief softness.
part 1 . part 2 | masterlist
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Apparently, college parties were a bit different in Tennessee, which was a sweet surprise to you. Different from the ones you were used to back in your hometown, this one was hosted at the English professor’s house  — you noticed as soon as you opened the front door, a picture of him with his wife near the entrance.
You raised your eyebrows when you bumped into your professor, an apologetic smile on his face.
“I didn't see you there, I'm sorry.” He touched your arm in a weak squeeze before placing his hand back in his pocket, the other holding a red mug.
“It's okay, Mr. Miller. I didn't know you would be here.” 
“I always host this reading before the actual party. My wife and I will go on a weekend trip and Winnie asked if she could host a ‘small’ gathering; apparently, the house they usually go to for the party is unavailable. Beatrice left after noon. Smart decision of hers.” You laughed at his expression, knowing damn well it would be anything but small. You could tell by the faces around you that you never saw in any of his classes or readings before. They didn’t exactly fit the ‘tortured-poet’ profile “Are you joining us for the reading? It started a few minutes ago, I just came to the kitchen to get some more coffee. Cairo should start at any moment.”
At the mention of her name, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth and you took a deep breath. 
A week had passed since the girl sat on your lap, kissed you, allowed you to touch her and then started acting as if nothing happened. During classes, you could feel her eyes on you, that uncomfortable feeling of being watched taking over your senses every five minutes, as if she was waiting for you to turn around and smile at her.
But you didn't. You avoided her like the plague. As soon as the class ended, you gathered your materials, plugged in your earphones and left without looking back. 
Winnie complained a few times about your sudden avoidance of her and Cairo, asking non stop what had happened, if she did something that got you upset, but all you could do was apologize and say you had a lot on your mind with finals and assignments with a short deadline. It wasn't a full lie, but the girl could see the change in your expressions.
And now, all that hard work to avoid the brunette would go downhill as she was waiting a couple steps away from where you were standing, waiting for Mr. Miller's returnal so she could read what she had prepared for tonight.
“Cairo and I aren't in the best place right now, if I'm being honest. I didn't know she would be here.” 
“Oh…” The man scratched his chin. “I didn't know that, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate in asking. I know Cairo, she can be… stubborn.”
You bit the inside of your cheeks at the statement. During your first days in Mr. Miller's class, Winnie kept you updated on the strange relationship Cairo had with your now professor; on how starstruck the young writer was at being close to someone she admires and looks up to. It was uncomfortable seeing how close he would be to her, making your stomach twist inside you with anxiety, yet there was nothing you could do as she seemed happy to be noticed by him. 
When you asked about this whole situation to Cairo, trying to disguise your reactions, she told you: “he is someone I admire and I know he can help me with my writing. I look forward to our meetings as I have his attention all to myself.” You gave her a small smile that nearly made your eyes shake. Just like now.
You blinked a few times, pursing your lips together. 
“We'll be fine.” You decided to answer, not truly believing in that. “But I appreciate the offering, Mr. Miller.”
“Anytime.” 
“Does your wife know that soon her house will have drunk people stumbling against the walls?” You asked in an attempt to ease the sudden awkward silence.
“God, no.” He laughed.
“I’ll try to keep the glass decoration in one piece.” Once again his hand rested on your arm for a few seconds in a silent ‘thank you’ before he checked the silvery watch on his wrist. 
“The reading is almost finished. Walk with me?”
Unable to deny the request, you simply nodded, walking in front of the professor as he motioned to you. 
The second you arrived in the living room, your eyes landed on her like a magnet. It might be because she was standing in the improvised stage by the window, or because of the deadly stare she locked on you when you walked in with Mr. Miller by your side. If she had a laser in her eyes, you'd be a sieve by now with thick blood covering the dark wood floor. 
A hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to the corner. Winnie smiled at you, saying she saved you a seat by her side on the couch even though she wasn’t sure you'd be here for the reading. The childish side of yours screamed for you to answer her with: “if I knew she would be here, I wouldn't have come” in a very annoying voice, but you only smiled at her, squirming in the leather couch. 
The room was in complete silence, waiting for the girl staring at you to start her reading. Cairo took a deep breath, licking her dry lips to start. The sun was starting to descend on the window behind her, transforming that whole scene into a beautiful portrait that your mind would keep for as long as you could remember.
“And as I witness her most intense intentions through dark eyes, with hands marking mine own peachy skin in a bruising grasp, I fall asunder above her. My body; weak, begging, pleading for her merciless touch as I watch her slam the door shut. The smell of something burning fills the walls, yet it's not the smoke that leaves my lungs, it's the fog that fills as I turn, fated to fall and fated to fail, and wish for her gaze, my resolute resistance scrawled in sand, tumbling through her open hands just as through the neck of our hourglass.
From the high, the grayness takes form; thick, lascivious, dangerous. The unsureness of faith buries words that one day I aim to say. Miserable thing, watching with tearful eyes as she leaves. The tree branches knock on the window, witnessing the whole pitiful scene engraved in my memory.”
You paid attention to every word she enunciated with a strong, determined voice, it felt like she was trying to open your skull and carve each one onto your brain matter. You felt dizzy at them, heart beating fast against your ribcage. While everyone applauded the young writer, you clenched your jaw, swallowing nothing that would help your sudden dry mouth. 
Cairo smiled, the type of smile that would make anyone drop to their knees and pray for her. Winnie was excited by your side, the subtle scent of alcohol you smelled on her made you laugh. The girl was loud and, at the moment, when all eyes turned to you two, you regretted sitting by her side. From across the living room, your eyes met hers again, now sat beside Mr. Miller while he whispered something in her ear to which she smiled wide, turning to him. 
As another student took over the stage, you couldn’t absorb any words that were said, disappearing into thin air. All you could focus on was Cairo’s hand occasionally touching his forearm when she leaned to say something in his ear, earning a quiet laugh from the professor, the urge to stand up and drag her away from that bothering situation, instead you walked to the kitchen in hopes to find a single drop of alcohol that would make that tension vanish from your body. Soon, Winnie joined you. 
“This is so boring, my God!” She whined, sitting up on the kitchen island while eyeing you up and down in the bright light for the first time. “You’re  overdressed as usual, I see.”
“Your underwear as usual, I see.” Winnie spread her legs as long as the short leather skirt allowed her to, giving you the high quality view of a lacy underwear as she takes the vodka bottle from your hands, taking a long sip, feeling the burning spreading over her chest with a satisfied hum.
“You like?”
You let out a huff, looking away. “You wish.”
“I will kiss you one day.” She said more to herself than to you, like a secret promise that escaped due to the lack of inhibition — not that she had any, even in her sober moments that word didn't exist in her vocabulary.
Shaking your head at her statement, you pulled the sleeves of your sweater, taking the half empty bottle from her hands and getting ready to prepare yourself a drink that didn’t taste like a slow death. 
The reading kept on until the sun was completely set in the horizon, turning the living room into a dark scenario, lit only by the yellowish color from the table lamps. Slowly, the students started leaving while others arrived, walking in the house with bottles and bottles of alcohol, storing them in the kitchen’s fridge.
While you paid attention to the cup in your hands, wondering how long it would take for you to detach from the reality that was drowning you, you felt a bump on your shoulder.
“What is it?” 
Winnie signalized with her head, making you look over your shoulder, witnessing Cairo and Mr. Miller talking near the stairwell that would lead to the second floor of the house. 
“I think he wants to take her upstairs.”
“She can do whatever she wants, Winnie.” You mumbled, trying not to squeeze the cup in your hand when taking a sip. The bitterness making you frown. “Cairo is a big girl.”
“Are you sure about that?” 
“What do you mean?” Turning back to her, your eyebrows sewn together in confusion.
“Because she won’t stop looking at us.” You shrugged, finishing your drink in one long sip. You felt your stomach complain at the big wave of alcohol. 
“She can disappear with him for all I care.”
Winnie tilted her head, still looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so I shouldn’t say they’re going upstairs and she seems pretty excited about it?”
“Yup, not a single thought about it is on my mind right now.” Grabbing the bottle again from her hands, less subtle and emptier than the first time, you poured yourself a very generous sip on your cup, drowsy smiling to Winnie when you handed over the, now completely empty, bottle. 
As the minutes went by and the alcohol went in, your control over your senses were slowly losing its grip and you started to worry about Cairo against your will. Controlling the impulse to run upstairs as you weren’t drunk enough to blame on the booze, you shook your head, leaning your body against Winnie’s while the girl talked excitedly to a random boy from the football team, your mind too caught up analyzing the things the young writer said earlier to pay attention to any conversation around you. 
The music wasn't loud enough as the professor still hadn't left, but you could feel every beat of it synchronized with the beat of your heart. 
Your fingers found the skin of Winnie's thigh, starting to draw random lines out of boredom. Other than the girl, and Cairo, you weren't familiar with the faces that kept on surging from the front door every five minutes.
“If you keep doing that, I'll drag you upstairs too.” Black whispered, making you tilt your chin up at her.
“Maybe you should.” 
Winnie was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. From the hazel eyes to the plump lips that looked so attractive at that moment, getting closer and closer, making a tingling feeling crawl over your legs like a spider. You wanted to kiss her, and you would have, if it weren't for the footsteps coming from behind you, making Black pull away. You knew it was Mr. Miller, the strong perfume making your nose burn. 
The older man stood in front of you, looking at Winnie who was still seated on the marble island, an innocent glow in her eyes that almost made you laugh, but a hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you away from that situation. All you could hear as you were being dragged to the — now empty — living room was Mr. Miller asking the girl to behave and to not destroy his house or he would fail her. You laughed to yourself.
“Did you seriously allowed Mr. Miller to take me upstairs?” Cairo asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater like a spoiled kid when you refused to look at her, waving at the professor when he turned around to leave, leaving the house and a bunch of teenagers and new-adults unsupervised.
Your eyes were dark and your body a little soft when you stared at her, yet you still were in control of your actions, the drinks just diminished the worry of doing or saying something wrong. At that point, you didn't care about what left your mouth. You wanted to curse the young writer.
“He's our English teacher, not a serial killer.”
“He could've forced me to do something!”
“You seemed pretty excited to go with him. Now, excuse me, I'm gonna find Winnie so we can finish what we were about to start.” Before you could walk past a furious Cairo, her hand, once again, glued to your chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You blew me off, Cairo. What did you expect? That I would run after you and beg for your attention?"
"Yes!"
You let out a breathy sigh, the corner of your lips up in disbelief. "You really are so self-centered, you don't care about anyone other than yourself. You're a fucking bitch!"
"And you're dying to fuck this self-centered bitch."
"Not after Mr. Miller, thank you." You scolf sarcastically.
"He didn't fuck me, you idiot.” The hand in your chest grabbed the fabric of your sweater, pulling you down to her so she could whisper with lips nearly pressing on yours. “He wasn't you." 
Her eyes softened as well as the fist that held you in place, moving it to the back of your head. 
Staring at her eyes, you didn't know what to find. You didn't even know what you wanted to find. Maybe a sincere answer.
“Cairo…” You started, sighing against her lips, closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather cohesive words to form a sentence. You blamed the alcohol for this pathetic lack of senses. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to care. I want you to show how desperate you are to have me, how you crave my body in your hands.” You swallowed hard, carefully listening to the whispery confession, the soft motion of her lips grabbing your attention. Once again, you wanted to steal that small freckle from her upper lip. “I want you to burn my skin with your fingers and bruise me with your mouth. And if you really wanted me to be yours, you would've turned around, thrown me on that fucking bed and taken me.” The strong pronunciation of that last part got your body heating up, the urge in your chest spreading in your veins and mixing with the existing alcohol. 
“You’re not very clear in your intentions, Cairo. You’re good at saying everything and nothing.”
Taking your hand, the writer pressed it against her chest. She took a deep breath, goosebumps covering her body at the warm feeling of having your hand touching her again.
“Can you feel that?” You nodded, letting your forehead gently fall against hers. “Do you understand now or do I have to draw it for you?”
Suddenly, your brain became fogged and you were getting lost again. You saw dark brown eyes. You felt a strong bumping in your hands. You smelled woody cologne and cinnamon. Yet, you didn't know where to go. 
“I want you to draw for me.” You said, desperately trying to find the right path.
Cairo nodded her head, pulling you with her once again, but this time, with her fingers intertwined on yours and more gentle than the first time. You trailed behind, careful to not trip on the stairs as she led the both of you somewhere you didn't know, the lights were off on the second floor, making impossible for you to see anything that wasn't right in front of you.
You heard the sound of a door opening and being locked once closed. The moonlight was invading the room through the open curtains. Blinking a few times to adjust the blurred vision, you felt your body being pushed against a soft mattress and a lightweight on top of you.
“I'll draw it for you.” Cairo whispered, pressing her lips on yours in a chaste kiss. “Do you have any idea of what you do to me?” She asked while kissing down your neck, your hands squeezing her waist over the cotton fabric. You shook your head, licking your dry lips, still tasting her lip balm on them. “Here, let me show it to you.” 
Cairo sat on your hips, guiding one of your hands under the white dress, in between her legs. Flashbacks returned and your heart stopped beating for a second while she moved herself on your fingertips, eyes locked on yours, a smirk surging in the darkness. When you moaned at the warmth that embraced your fingers, she did the same.
You breathed out the air that was stuck in your lungs, affected by the scene that unwrapped in front of your eyes. It was a erotic, alluring view, slowly burning itself into your brain like a polaroid. A flash of smile drew on Cairo’s face, satisfied with the reactions coming from you, with the way your eyes stared at her with a dark, flame of desire, lips parted as you struggled to breath.
The cold touch of her rings sent shivers down your spine when her hand wrapped itself around your neck, pressing the sides of it, feeling the pulsating vein under her fingertips. A sob escaping her throat when your fingers easily slipped into her, burying themselves in the warmth of her velvety walls, clenching around you, while the heel of your hand pressed against her swollen clit.
A vile glow shining in the dark brown eyes when she leaned down, squeezing the sides of neck harder as she felt the knot inside her getting tighter. That feeling of desperation growing impatient in her chest.
“Have I lost myself, or have I gained you?” You asked in a soft voice, following a steady pace with your fingers as she moved herself on you. Even when you were the one carrying her in your hands, it was hers that controlled the air in your lungs. 
You’ve always seen Cairo as a spoiled girl that grew up in a big house, having all her wishes wrapped in a pretty paper waiting for her on her bed when she came home from school. But now, as she falls apart in your hands, saying your name like a sacred mantra, you saw beyond words and actions, you saw the urge to be held and cared for, like a little girl that didn’t get a hug after they wake up.  
Staring at her in awe, you felt tears coming to the brim of your eyes, the squeeze cutting every small space for the air to bring you life, but you didn't care, not when you saw the vision of what heaven must be like; the curly brown hair falling over her right shoulder, the soft strands tickling the skin of your neck as she fell over you, hiding on your chest.
Coming down from her high, Cairo carried a sly smile when she looked at you. Her kiss tasted like ashes, bitter, against your tongue. 
“You taste sweet.” The writer whispered in between kisses, sucking your tongue into her mouth over and over, sighing in pleasure at the fingers that slid off of her. Carefully bringing your coated fingers to your mouth, you wrapped your lips around them, being watched with full blown eyes every movement of yours.
“And you taste divine.” 
It only took a millisecond for her lips to meet yours once again, the softness of the act long forgotten as she bit your lower lip, tasting the iron in her tongue with a sadistic smile at the painful cry you let out, squeezing her ass in your hands; burning the peachy skin with your fingertips. The words of her writing echoing inside your brain, spreading it on your blood flow. 
“I like this sweater, you look charming in dark blue.” Her hand found the collar of it, tip of her fingers tracing the skin underneath, making the fabric itch around your neck. “Take it off.” Despite the sweet tone in her voice, you obeyed the breathy order, pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere in the unknown bedroom. Cairo stood up, removing the brown leather boots and her own dress, the white lacey set that remained on her body making you gulp. 
The writer stood in between your legs, her hands on your hair while yours held her by her waist, goosebumps all over her body as you kissed the toned abs, softly biting the skin.
Cairo looked down at you with curious eyes, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth, admiring the small galaxies your mouth left all over her like she was an empty canvas that needed some color. And you were doing the perfect job, painting an universe on her skin as you knelt down, bringing her underwear along with it. The writer kicked the useless cloth, putting her leg over your shoulder and hooking it behind your head; you salivated at the view of her cunt glistening in front of you. 
One of her hands caressed your face with gentleness, her thumb sliding over your bottom lip before she made you open your mouth, pushing her hips closer to your lips. She was dripping on your tongue, the taste of her filling your mouth as you hummed in pleasure, licking what escaped your agape mouth. 
The big brown eyes stared at you in flames, burning your skin into a bright scarlet crimson. You nudge your nose closer to her, inhaling the intoxicating smell; everything about Cairo was sweet, from her last name, to her voice that could recite the most beautiful poem by core, to the honey flavor slick that dripped from her aching hole, running down her thighs at the view of you ready to worship her, and when your tongue slid in between her folds in a long, slow lick, her head fell back and a shiver went down her spine. 
Pressing your tongue flat over her hardened nub, you closed your eyes, the grip on your hair pulling you impossibly closer. You circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, drawing random patterns with precision on the sensitive nerve, earning yourself a praise that came with a smile when she looked down on you. 
Moving your hands up her thigh, you squeezed the muscle, making her ride on your tongue, aggressively and delicious. The sounds escaping your open mouth reverberated all over her sensitive flesh. 
Cairo was an exhibitionist, she adored having eyes on her all the time, paying attention to every admirable detail that was attached to her. And having you on your knees praying against her cunt was filthy, enticing and agonizing, that heat wave scorching her insides and melting on your tongue, and you made sure to swallow it with a gratifying smile.
You could suffocate in between her legs and it would be a heavenly death. 
Kissing your way up, you brought her body closer, circling her waist as she hooked both legs around you, sliding her tongue over your shiny lips before you dropped her on the bed. Cairo was about to complain at the lack of care, but she soon shut her mouth, watching you kick your converse to the side and unbuttoning the tailored pants that hugged your curves in the right places.
Taking a deep breath, you slid the fabric down, taking your underwear with you, the shyness taking over you once you were free from any cloth covering your body; all this being watched with lustful eyes. 
The young writer’s eyes pierced your soul, engraving in her brain every mole you had around your shoulders, silently choosing her favorite one to add to the list of small details of your body she loved and kept fresh in her memories, always making sure to add ‘em in her writing. It amazes her how you never noticed the importance you had in her work, you were her muse. 
“Come to me.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, at the sound of her sweet voice your feet led your body closer to hers, moving according to her words, your knees sinking in the mattress only to find balance on top of her.  Her hands on your back brought you closer and you fell, once again, into that piquant feeling where it felt like you were about to drown, but her lips on your neck got you breathing in fervor. 
It was easy for the brunette to take control, reversing positions and sitting atop your abdomen, gripping one of your legs and casting one of hers in between them, fitting herself against you. 
“Fuck, Cairo.” You mewl, closing your eyes at the aggressive way she pressed herself down, easily gliding on you. One of your hands found her thigh, squeezing the flesh until it blemished under your fingertips, moving your hips according to the pace she set. It was cruel, desperate, the dark brown eyes fluttering closed. 
The bed slammed against the wall, the old wood-frame fated to snap at any moment; you didn’t care, it was impossible to focus on anything that wasn’t the girl in between your legs, rubbing herself on you with an inner desire to split you in half. You dazed at her, the angelical aura surrounding her like an armor, preventing the sins from escaping the walls of the still unknown bedroom like the squelching noises were, the lewd sounds from the both of you echoing around the hallway for anyone that dared to come closer and press their ears against the locked door. 
When the impetuous climax hit you like a jolt of electricity spreading in your veins, Cairo fell on top of you, exhaustion taking over her senses as well as the tired muscles complaining from all the spasms. 
The writer looked at you, tearful eyes as you soothed her bare back with an equally pleasured expression. Your bodies were weak, relying on each other at such a delicate and overwhelming moment, marked in black and blue by your hands and mouth, a greedy memory that will last. And if it ever vanishes, like the galaxies made out of bruises, all you needed to do is knock on her window.
626 notes · View notes
rosedom · 3 months
Note
hi there! I'm here because I wanted to share with you an idea I had in mind.
wanderer x guitarist boyfriend reader where he finds the reader's hands attractive and started to masturbate in his room imagining the reader's fingers inside him and reader catches him masturbating in his room once he got back to his place after a band performance.
I hope this is okay with you, I'm sorry if it's not though. I love your works btw! also can I be 🥯 anon?
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"in an open match, 【 🥯 】 has invited WANDERER to play . . . a well-strummed man
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wanderer, hand kink, fantasizing turned to masturbating, getting caught (by you), vaginal fingering, lots of love & praise .
A/N : i've been thinking about this scenario these past weeks, oh my goodness . . . (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Kunikuzushi is a dead, dead man.
Listen. It's not like it’s his fault you’re a guitarist, much-less the lead of a band; and it most certainly does not fall to his blame that he’s been lonely, alright?
You’ve been out all weekend, and it’s already Sunday night. He—he won't admit he misses you, but it’s a close thing.
“I’ll be back Monday, baby,” you’d said, last Friday. You’d held him in your broad arms, your large palms a searing brand to his hips as he grunted at you for spinning him.
He had shoo’d you away, said, “Okay, okay!” and pushed you out the door with your guitar and damning crooked grin.
You had pouted, too, standing in the doorway like some kicked kitten, and Kuni couldn’t deny such pitiful look on your handsome face. “C’mere,” he’d grumbled, reeled you in and kissed you soundly on your lips. “Goodluck, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You’d kept your faces together for a few moments, breathing in him, before you ultimately straightened up. “I love you.”
With a scoff, another shove and a soft, “Goodbye—,” one you gave him back, your own adoring farewell—he had murmured, “I love you, too.”
(He hasn't seen the smile on your face for you turned the other way. It made your heart skip a beat, made you hold tighter to the purple straps of your guitar as you went to the curb your bandmates had been waiting for you on.
Kuni had seen, however, the grip of your fingers across the leather; he had seen it well. So well.)
Kuni groans. Your hands. He can't get your hands off his mind: your hands tightening around your guitar strap, your hands holding tight to his waist, your hands covering the expanse of his pale skin, your hands dipping down, your hands stroking his cock and nudging into his cunt and and—
he’s a goner. Not only dead, but gone: utterly, entirely, wholly for you.
Your hands are just so—enticing. That's it, that's all. They're nice to look at.
. . . and nice to imagine knuckle-deep in his cunt. Of course, they’re nice to feel actively thrusting in him, rubbing across his chubby cock and smearing the mess of slick and lube across his hole; but you're not here right now, and he's left with only a whisper of you in his imagination, and a video of you playing live.
He couldn't attend your show, thanks to a paper he had to submit by Saturday night. But tonight's Sunday, and the paper's squared away and submitted and done, and he's lonely, right now, replaying your recording, eyes watching the both steady and jerking movements in turn of your fingers across the guitar strings.
His cock throbs. “Shit.”
With another groan—albeit far weaker, without any gusto behind it—, Kunikuzushi lets his phone fall to the side and sinks full-bodied into the bed. The plush blankets wrap around him, swaddling him in a semblance of you, you, you. They carry your subtle scent in them, a mixture of your soap and his own embedded into the fabric in a heady mix that Kuni greedily drinks in, pressing a corner of it to his mouth and nose as his other hand teases down his body.
A tweak—gentle, mimicking your own soft touch—to his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt makes him lowly gasp. It’s not as satisfying, with his own touch, but the sensation still makes small zaps of pleasure zing up and down his spine, ending with a heavy pulse at his cock and sending his cunt dribbling.
Pulling off his briefs is an easy thing, if not made a bit messy by the string of slick that connects to and snaps from the seat of the fabric. It’d be embarrassing if you were here to see it, feel it, taste it; but you're not here right now.
He's sorely reminded, again and again: he's alone, for now.
(He misses the embarrassment under you, already, misses the way your touch is always so gentle against him, teasing him and bringing him to release again and again with those damning hands.)
He plays across his opening, now bare, with his fingers, just like you'd do. The wetness clings to his fingertips, and he mourns the loss of the calluses on your hands; his own are soft n’ smooth, providing little friction against the parts that need it most.
“Please,” he whispers to himself, to the air, to absolutely no-one.
He wants you here, so, so bad; but the next best thing is the slide of two fingers, right off the bat, right into the third knuckle. It’s slow going, but it's smooth, and he sharply exhales at the barely-there stretch.
It’s quiet save for the squelch of his fingers, the in-n’-out thrust
When his mind starts playing your voice, the devilish thing, he's a goner twice-over. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby,” you’d say, he imagines you saying. He mewls at the thought, bending his fingers sharply in the way he knows you would. Though they don’t come into contact with his g-spot how yours would, not at first, the press against his sensitive walls makes him bite his lip still.
Sometimes, Kuni wonders if you know his body better than he does. (You do.)
He thinks, then, of the other things you'd say to him, pressed up close and deep in him. Maybe you would tell him, “So needy,” with a lilt to your voice that reveals you're really not mad at all. “All wet n’ dripping for me, aren't'cha? Aren’t I so lucky to have such a pretty boy under me?”
Maybe you'd lean down and lick at his cock while you spread him open. The thought makes him whine all loud-like, working a third finger in beside the other two, whimpering quietly after the shame of his initial whine.
“Turn over for me, babe,” the you in his head sweetly commands. He swears he can feel your phantom touch on his hips, murmuring, “There you go,” guiding him to roll onto his belly. The shirt he’s kept on bunches up, allowing a whisper of the cold bedroom air to brush his nipples. “My obedient, good boy.”
He feels safer like this, pumping his fingers into his cunt the best he can with the new position. The angle no longer allows his fingers to curl into his g-spot, but it mimics how you handle him: a worthy trade-off, he thinks. He imagines you on his back, stretching him on your fingers as you drape yourself across him, licking n’ kissing at his neck and blushing ears.
“Opening up so good f'r me,” you'd say; Kuni whimpers, biting the pillow—your pillow, saturated in the subtle scent of your shampoo—to muffle himself. He’s safe, like this.
This is as close as he can get to having you, right now—
until it's not.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Kuni, sweetheart.”
Fuck. Fuck.
“You—I—” Kuni wrings himself upright, coming right up to your face, inches away from his own. He growls at you, but it falls short—how could it, when he’s red-faced and pushes at your chest with his slickened hand? “When did you get home?”
“Just now,” you murmur, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your lips for a kiss, for a taste of him. Then, “Have you cum?”
He rips his hand back. “You can't just—”
“So you haven't,” you say, grinning. Silently, he sputters, but then you're leaning in and kissing him soundly and pressing him down into your bed and—
“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” you ask. Your grin turns devilish when you dip your fingertips into him, just so, the callouses on your two fingers already resting so perfectly against his opening.
Your roughed-up thumb presses into his jutting cock, right as he whines, “Yes,” his whole attitude turned on a dime. Sweet, sweet Kunikuzushi.
“You're so wet,” you murmur, entirely awed at the slick glide of your fingers, able to slide a third in oh-so easily. While he had three of his own stuffed up to his third knuckle, your fingers are broader, wider—the knobs of each knuckle is prominent still, nudging each sweet spot in his cunt easy as anything. “God, pretty boy, what were you thinkin’ about to make you this messy?”
Kuni whines again, the sound airy and high, pleading n’ begging.
“Heard you keep saying my name,” you continue, curling your fingers and forcing the bumps at your fingertips against his g-spot in a way his own hands failed to. Asking, “What about me, hm?” makes him tremble, and you think his brain is too pleasure-mushed to process it.
But then he’s reaching for the hand you've got snug on his hip, and he murmurs, “Your hands.”
“My hands?” He nods, closing his eyes tight. You kiss the flutter of eyelashes. “What about them?”
“They're so—” a moan cuts up his words, your thumb working tight against him.
“They're so...?”
He groans. “They're so—so big, ‘nd they're always so warm, so hot in me, s-stretch me so—so good.”
“Yeah?” You pull apart your fingers at his words—only slightly, enough to feel the slight resistance of his cunt. “Like it when I open you up all nice n’ pretty for me?”
“Yes, yes, I l-love it.” Kuni’s so unabashed, now, so close to his orgasm. The clench of his cunt is uncontrolled, pulsing against your fingers and urging you to rub his chubby cock faster, harder, stretching him out and making his mind melt from his pretty, perfect lil’ pussy.
As his back unconsciously arches, his thighs jerking with the spasms of his muscle, he begins to plead you to let him cum. Soft begs fall from his lips as he clutches right at your free hand, both of his smaller ones holding yours tight when you lean down and kiss him, soft n’ sound right against his swollen lips.
You can't even finish your sentence, a gentle, “Cum for me, sweetheart,” before Kuni’s creaming around your fingers, the thick cum left dribbling in your palm and being smeared into his twitching cock.
By the time he’s dropped your hand to grab at your other wrist, he's left a whimperin’, whinin’ mess. You lie next to him and roll his body on top of yours, holding him close around his middle and letting him nuzzle into your throat.
His breathing eventually steadies, matching the gentle rhythm of your chest against his. “Thank you,” he mutters.
“For what?”
He sighs. “Makin’ me cum.” The tone of his voice makes you chuckle, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”
“Nuthin',” you say, laughing. You kiss his forehead in apology, and you continue with, “I should be thanking you, anyway, for surprising me with something like that.”
“Shut up, you perv.”
You’re appalled! “Says the guy fingering himself on our—”
Kuni growls, jumping up and covering your mouth with his hands. “Shut up!” But those pretty indigo eyes soften, crinkling at the edges, and he leans down to kiss your forehead in turn.
“Missed you,” he says, a whisper against your skin—one you return to his sternum, pressing a kiss and your love so close to his heart.
Maybe, if this is death, like this, Kuni wouldn't quite mind being a dead man.
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kuni's so real for this: hands r UNREASONABLY attractive. i hope this somewhat like u imagined, sweet anon 🦭🦭
6 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
742 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 6 days
Text
I Love Being 'Us' With You (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist.
Warnings: language, angst, pregnancy topics, mention of miscarriage, Carole and Goose coming to the rescue
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It had been months since you used birth control. Originally you planned to stop taking the pill when you embarked on your honeymoon, but the two of you agreed to stop filling your prescription before that. For more than a week when you were in Hawaii, you and Bradley had sex at least three times a day. He was like a man on a mission. Well, several missions. He wanted to keep you satisfied, but you could also tell he wanted to get you pregnant sooner rather than later. He wanted to have a kid before he turned forty.
The first time you ever mentioned wanting to have kids, he took you home and kept you in bed for hours. And that was before you and he were actively trying. Since last fall, he had been meticulous. He knew your cycles, and he was seemingly always ready to go when you were ovulating. But it had been months, and while he was outwardly as relaxed as always, you could tell that he was starting to get concerned. You were, too.
At first, it was easy to go with the flow. "It just takes time," Bradley told you, and you agreed. You continued to keep track of your cycle. You tried to be hopeful. You had a partner. You weren't doing this alone.
But you really were.
Because as much as you knew your husband was there for you, it was your body that wasn't working correctly. It was you, not him, who was messing everything up. Every time your period started, you had to cry alone before you could regroup and let him know that another month of trying had ended unsuccessfully. With every negative pregnancy test, you felt a little bit more of your optimism crumble into something much uglier.
You were at the point where you hated your body after so many months, and of course that's when Bradley's parents asked if it was okay to come stay for a long weekend for his birthday. When you got off the call with them, you started crying.
"I don't understand why you're being weird about this," Bradley sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just for three nights. They've stayed with us before. Hell, I don't make a big deal out of it when your parents come out."
You shouldn't have to explain yourself to him. You didn't even know how to anyway. "I'm not being weird! I just don't want to have to talk to them about our plans to have a baby."
"Sweetheart. They don't even know we're trying."
Maybe that was true, but it was the only thing you could think about. So you excused yourself to go cry in bed with the door closed. You could feel the cramps starting. You knew you were just days away from getting your period. You knew the tears weren't going to stop. Another month was down the drain, and you were starting to resent when Bradley would initiate sex. You didn't even want him to look at you. And now when his parents came to stay at the craftsman for his birthday, you would be ovulating once again. It would be another month of disappointment where you felt like you were on display for your in-laws to witness it this time.
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You were distancing yourself from him, and Bradley didn't know what to do. It had gotten so much worse in the last few weeks since his parents asked to come stay for a few days. You stopped driving to work with Bradley. You started working late. You started to schedule sex with him to the point that he was surprised he wasn't receiving calendar invitations. He wanted to have a baby, sure, but he wanted you to be happy above all else. As soon as his parents left to go back to Virginia, you and he really needed to figure this out.
"Are you listening to me?"
Bradley's attention snapped back to his dad who was standing right in front of him, holding a nine iron with an annoyed look on his face. He let his mind wander so far away from the golf course, he didn't even realize it was his turn.
"Sorry," he grunted, digging in his golf bag. "Just got distracted."
"I was telling you that I'm finally taking your mom on a cruise. It leaves the day after her birthday," Goose told him.
"Right," Bradley replied. "Got it. She'll love that."
After Bradley hit his ball a little too aggressively, his dad carefully lowered the club and said, "Now why don't you tell me why you look constipated, and why your wife cried when mom told her that Brenda is going to have another grandson."
Bradley shoved the club back into his bag, and as much as he told himself he didn't want to talk about it, the words just started flowing. "We've been trying to get pregnant since last fall, and it's just a fucking mess now. Sometimes she doesn't want me to touch her. Other times it's like she thinks we need to have sex right then and there. Honestly, I don't know how to fix this, but having a kid isn't worth it if she's not happy with me."
"Have you told her that?"
Bradley stared at his dad, letting the words penetrate his brain. "Well, no."
"Have you put pressure on her?"
Now he felt like the one who was going to burst into tears. Truly, he never meant to, but he probably had. Talking about wanting a kid before he gets too much older. Mentioning how they would have to start saving for money for college. "Shit."
Goose pulled him in for a hug, and he let the soothing feel of his dad's hand on his back calm him down. "Bradley, women are smarter than us. They pick up on everything. If you want to fix it, then you need to be as honest with her as you can be. Because I don't think you want to destroy your marriage like this."
"I sure don't," Bradley said, his voice muffled against his dad's shoulder.
"We've still for fourteen holes and plenty of time. Let's hop in the golf cart, and I'll tell you all about some of the ways I fucked up with your mom and how I managed to fix it afterwards."
Bradley couldn't help but laugh. "At least she keeps you honest."
--------------------------
You were mortified. Your hormones were a mess as you were almost definitely ovulating. You wanted to have sex with Bradley this morning before he left to play golf, but you didn't even know how to tell him that you just wanted him and not the potential to get pregnant. And now you were out to brunch with his mom as tears filled your eyes, because the couple at the next table over was younger than you and Bradley, and they were taking turns holding the most adorable baby you'd ever seen.
When you tried to excuse yourself from the table, you felt Carole's hand on your wrist. "Sweet Girl," she whispered. "Let's talk about it."
You nodded and slid back into your seat as you choked back the tears. "We're trying to get pregnant, and it's just not happening. Was it that obvious?" you asked, knowing you'd been a mess all weekend.
"Of course not," Carole told you in her calm voice that you loved so much. "I just know this type of situation very well is all."
"You do?" you asked, dabbing at your eyes with your napkin. "But you had Bradley."
"Sure," she told you, still rubbing your wrist with her warm fingers. In a lot of ways, it was always easier to talk to her than your own mom, and you were thankful that you didn't have to act like nothing was bothering you right now. "Sure, I had Bradley, but ol' Goose and I wanted a baseball team worth of kids. A whole boatload of snot nosed little critters running around."
You laughed in spite of yourself. "What happened?"
"Well," Carole said with a smirk, "Bradley wasn't exactly planned, as I'm sure you well know. He was born in June after we got married in November. I wasn't showing yet in the wedding photos, but Goose and I both knew he was there." She smiled softly as she added, "I loved being a mom to him. He was the sweetest baby in the world, and I wanted a bunch more. But you can only handle the devastation of repeated miscarriages for so long before you throw in the towel, because you realize it's not worth your sanity. It's not worth it when you already have so much. Goose and I had some long, hard conversations, but we realized we were both already on the same page."
The tears were back, and this time you could feel them rolling down your cheeks. You hated that she didn't get to have what she wanted, but she was looking at you with kind eyes as you said, "I'm so sorry."
"Don't you dare apologize to me," she said with a soft laugh. "I got to raise Bradley, and then I got to pass him along to you." When you nodded and smiled in spite of yourself, she added, "And I just know that he's more than enough for you, and that you are more than he ever dreamed of. Just promise me you'll have those hard conversations with him. Maybe you'll find that you and Bradley are already in agreement about your future."
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Bradley was thoroughly unamused when his Bronco wouldn't start on his birthday. "I think it's just the timing belt," his father said as they tinkered under the hood after dinner. "Order a new part and see if that does the trick. In the meantime, you'll just have to drive us to the airport in the other car."
"Sure," Bradley replied sarcastically as he grinned at you. "No problem, Dad. We'll just all cram into the red car like a pack of clowns."
"It's not that bad!" you said as he pulled you in for a hug. You already felt better after spending twenty minutes last night promising each other you'd spend even more time talking after you dropped his parents off for their red eye flight back east.
"It's so bad, Baby Girl," your husband whispered into your hair. "I don't know if their suitcase will even fit in the trunk."
"Stop being dramatic, Roo." 
Of course the suitcase fit. And all four of you fit, too. You let Bradley drive so he wouldn't complain about the leg room. He parked in the garage at the airport, and you and he walked Carole and Goose inside the departures door, taking turns embracing them before they dropped off their bag and headed through the security gate.
"Listen," Bradley said, reaching for your hand and giving you a kiss. "I know we said we'd talk when we get back home, but I need to apologize to you." His brown eyes were sincere and a little sad as he led you back outside and said, "There's nothing I want more than you and me together. Safe and happy. That's it. If we don't have a kid, it's not the end of the world, and it's certainly not the end of us."
You smiled up at him. "I agree. I don't want to think about it like a chore any longer. If it happens, then that's amazing. If not, well we can always regroup and talk about other ways of becoming parents. Or we can just be us."
"That's music to my fucking ears," he crooned, pulling you in close against his body. "I love being us with you."
Before you could assure him that you felt the same way, his lips were on yours, hard and heavy, taking your breath away. The scrape of his mustache and the way his hand kept sliding lower on your back until he was palmig your butt reminded you how badly you wanted him, just because he was your Bradley. You moaned into his mouth.
When you broke the kiss and looked up at him, a cocky little grin bloomed across his lips. "I have an idea, Sweetheart. Call it an extra birthday gift."
"What is it?" you gasped, already trying to consider how much you and he could get away with in the nearly deserted parking garage. But he was a step ahead of you.
Bradley unlocked your car, handed you the keys, and unbuckled his belt. He eased himself carefully onto the backseat, rubbed his thigh and braced his big foot against the center console. "Come here," he coaxed, and you climbed right in.
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adams-angels · 4 months
Text
Talk to me
Adam X f!reader
🎸I hope I do you all justice. Don't be mad if this isn't very good. I generally am not very good!🎶
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Smut below. Minors dni thx
This isn't the first time you and Adam argued. It sure as hell won't be the last but today was a little different.
It's started off fine. You were at Adams apartment for the weekend. You made him breakfast, he showered you in kissed, shared a bit of banter... And that's where it went wrong. You said something which made Adam say something unexpected and worse. So an argument ensured. It ended when Adam had been called into work.
The last thing you said was "fine, I won't say anything ever again." It was petty! You were being petty. It's not like you hadn't said it before but you always did speak again, of course you did! But no. Today was different. You were keeping to your word.
Adam got ready to leave. "Okay. I'm going now." You looked up and nodded. Not even a kiss goodbye was had. He left the apartment scowling while you stayed up and sulked.
As the day went on her texted you. "Ugh, work is so dumb. Idk y they even wanted me in 🙄" you picked up your phone and read it. You made sure to read it. So he would see that you saw it. Petty.
Now you know Adam. You know Adam needs attention 24/7. Even if you're not together you need to text him back. You need to make sure he knows you're still there. You're still his.
So of course he saw the read receipt. He knows you have your phone in your hand. "What are you ignoring me?" Read. "Don't be so pathetic." Read. "Why are you doing this?" Read. "whatever! You think I care?! I'm FUCKING ADAM! I'M THE FUCKING DICK MASTER! I DON'T NEED YOU!" Read. "ANSWER ME?!" Read. "Haha, check out this meme." Read. "Please say something." Read.
You had him reeling. His trust issues taking over his mind. What if you've left him? What if fucking Lucifer's got his tiny ass claws into you?! "NO!" His wings flare, he charges towards the nearest window and takes flight. He can't stand you ignoring him. He can't stand the thought of you leaving him.
He lands on his apartments balcony, you're not in the livingroom. His heart pounds in his chest. Opening the sliding door he enters his apartment. A very broken "hello?" Escapes his lips. No response. The silence is too much.
He explores his apartment, a bead of sweat forming on his temple. "Y/N?" He heads towards his bedroom and there you are. Lying in bed. You're not asleep, you're on your phone, still ignoring him. You could of swore you heard a sigh of relief. It doesn't take long before he's back to his arrogant self. "What up sugartits? Still not talking?" That cocky smirk fills his mask.
He hops into bed next to you. You glance up at him, that stupid smile. "What? I didn't do anything, babe. C'mon, why don't you just say something?" You respond with a glare. He sits up, his smile waivered slightly at your resistance. He brings himself close to your ear, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I know how to get you to talk."
His hand slides down your arm, to your waist then your thighs. You know where this is going. With no resistance from you he moves one of your legs, spreading them. His fingers trace along your pantie line, just to tease you. You can feel your face flushing. "You're too cute, babes." He muttered, causing you to look up at him. As soon as your eyes locked with his, he moved your underwear to the side. Sliding a finger between your folds. He can see you holding back a whimper. "Wow, you're already soaked? Thinking about my cock all day, huh? Of course you were."
He continued sliding a finger between you, gently hitting your clit cause you to twitch. But still no sounds from you. He frowns slightly. "Why don't you tell me how much you want it, Gorgeous." It was so hard not to break. How much your wanted to tell him you wanted him. But no. Then he would of won. He always wins! You hold strong. "Fine." He grunts as he gets up. He crawls between your legs whipping off her robe revealing his, always surprising, massive cock. Throbbing with anticipation.
"I'm gonna make you beg." He grumbled. He wasn't happy you were still not saying anything. At this point he missed your voice. He missed your laugh. Your tuts. Your groans. Anything. Any noise! He wanted you do make a single sound. You watched as he positioned himself and got ready for him to thrust into you. He grabbed his member and lined up with your entrance and stopped. You looked up at him confused. That smirk was back.
He began jerking him against your aching cunt. His tip brushing against your clit you can't help but whimper. You quickly cover your mouth. "What was that babe? You want me to fuck you?" He asked with that shit eating grin. You nod, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Use your words, baby." You furrowed your brow, positioning your feet you buck your hips to try and get him inside of you but he's too smart for that, pulling himself away. "Nuh-uh. Words, y/n. Use them." He purred, teasing you. He moved back, continuing rubbing himself off on you.
You whined in frustration and desperation. "Fuck 'm getting close, babe." Your eyes widen. No way was he close, but his brow twitched which told you he wasn't lying. He was going to cum soon. "Fuck me Adam! Please fuck me! I need you!" You begged. "ah, you want me now?" "Yes, please. Please Adam?" It didn't take him long before he was inside you. Feeling your walls clenched around his thick member. You moan in ecstasy. Adam, gripping your waist, pulling you as close as he can so he can get deep inside you. "Fuckin' feel so good~ such a good girl." He grunted, pounding into you.
It's hard to read his true expression with that damn mask on, uou managed to get your fingers under the chin of his mask and pull it off. You can see his flustered face, how desperate and needy his eyes are. "Sso p-pretty anh~!" "Shut up.." he burrows his head in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, small whimpers escape his lips as moans roar out from yourself.
"Fuck, y/n-!" His arms wrap themselves around your waist as he holds you down and close. Filling you with his seed. His head still pressed against the nook of your neck. "'m sorry..." He whispered into your skin. Your arms slid round to his back, gently running your fingers up and down his back. "Please don't ignore me again." He mumbled. "I won't. I'm sorry." You reply, holding each other close.
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed this one shot. It was fun to write! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
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joels-shitty-puns · 5 months
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Javing Feelings
Javier Peña x Inexperienced!Reader
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Summary: You have been dating Javier for six months now, and the two of you finally slept together for the first time as a couple (and your first time ever). However, you can't seem to stop fantasizing about giving a blowjob for the first time. Luckily you have Javi to help you learn.
Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Smut !!!!! Porn with little plot. TBH I wanted just porn but my mind wouldn't let me and gave them a back story. Oral (m receiving, f alluding to). Masturbation (f). Kissing, biting. Nipple/breast kissing/biting. Cursing. Cum eating. Dirty talk. Let me know if I forgot anything!
Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. Inexperienced. Reader and Javi work together but reader's job isn't specified.
Word Count: 3.2K
Hi!!! I hope you enjoy this fic. There's some light Spanish in here but my Spanish is rusty. It was never great to begin with, so if it sounds weird pls let me know. I haven't finished watching Narcos and I'm not sure my portrayal of Javi is great. But I wanted to try something new and my mind had this filthy idea lol. This also required me to do a little research (!!!) because I haven't done this personally. Please let me know your thoughts!
_____
It had been six months of dating Javier Peña, and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Surprised at the length of your relationship, surprised at how loving and caring he could be. Surprised at how patient he really was.
It's not that you would ever mean to say anything poorly about his character. You loved your man, and he loved you. But the rumors that used to fly around him at work for being a player and a sex god were hard to ignore. Sleeping with his informants, openly flirting with coworkers, bringing home a new woman every weekend. He was known for frequenting strip clubs and meeting up with prostitutes, and the jokes ran endlessly in the office. Most notably, they came from his partner Steve.
So when he asked you out the first time, you said no. You had never been with a man before, and it certainly wasn't going to be a one night stand with someone like Peña. He wouldn't hit it and quit it with you. You were worth more than that, and you knew it. Even if he did look at you with those big puppy eyes. Even if his chest did peek out under that hot pink shirt that made you drool, or if he licked his plump lips before placing a cigarette in the slot below his perfectly groomed mustache. Even if he did strut through the building like he owned the place, his tight jeans hugging his ass and crotch in all the right places, making you practically salivate.
You wouldn't give in to him. You wouldn't be used for sex. You wouldn't be a fuck buddy. You needed love. You deserved love. Especially for your first time.
Now, that's not to say that you didn't think of him occasionally when you let your hands wander under your covers and below your panties. Didn't think of his lips when you ran your fingers through your arousal, or circled your finger around your clit before sliding down to your entrance. It probably would feel good if he filled it…
But you wouldn't indulge in that fantasy in real life.
_____
So when the two of you were the last ones at the bar following a work happy hour one night, you were surprised to see that he hadn't left with a woman.
He swallowed down the last of his drink before standing up and tossing a bill to the bartender. “I'm going to head home, I'll see you at work,” he grabbed his jacket off the bar.
“Wait…are you okay?” You asked him curiously, though you weren't about to ask ‘why aren't you taking a woman home?’ and make him feel bad.
Javi gave you a look, studying your face as if to wonder why you would possibly care about whether he was okay. You turned him down. You didn't like him, you weren't attracted to him. Despite the friendship you'd developed from working closely together, he obviously didn't mean as much to you as you did to him.
“I'm fine, cariño. Nothing to worry about,” he headed towards the door.
“Wait… Javi?” You grabbed your purse and your coat, throwing down a tip on the bar before following him out the door.
“Clearly something's wrong with you, why don't you talk to me?” You pleaded, stopping within touching-distance of him on the sidewalk. “Did I do something?”
“No,” he sighed. “You didn't do anything wrong. It's just me,” he shook his head, turning to walk away.
“Is this because I said I wouldn't go out with you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.
He turned, letting his eyes flash with sadness for only a second before responding. “It's okay, hermosa” he sighed. “You don't feel the same way and that's fine.”
You gave him a confused look, your eyebrows furrowing. “Do you actually have feelings for me, Javi?”
“Of course I have feelings for you cariño, why do you think I asked you out?” he ran his hand through his hair.
“I don't know…” you answered quietly, fiddling with your hands.
“Because I just wanted to fuck?” He spat.
You looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I didn't think you'd ever actually want me because… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm inexperienced. I've never had sex before, Javi. And I don't want to lose it without building a relationship based on love first.” You whimpered, and briefly noticed a flash of surprise on his face. “And yes, not to be a bitch, but you really do have a reputation for getting around town…” you dropped your hands at your side with a sigh.
“I know,” he groaned. “I do, and I'm guilty of using sex as a coping mechanism. But I really am interested in you, cariño. And if you'd give me a chance, I'll go as slow as you want or need. I’ve spent so many nights trying to fuck away my emotions and it hasn't helped. But,” he ran his hand down his face before continuing. “The first time I saw you, it's like everything felt… easier when I was around you.”
He took a step towards you. “I tried to push the feelings aside, because truthfully it scared the shit out of me. I haven't had those feelings in a very long time, if ever. But pushing it away never worked with you.” He reached for your hand, and you took it.
_____ 
Ever since that moment, the two of you have been slowly developing a meaningful relationship. From your first date, to your first kiss, Javi has been nothing but sweet and patient. It wasn't until recently when you decided to let him take your virginity.
You were beyond nervous, especially upon seeing the size of him. But he was gentle and loving, making sure you were ready well before he entered you. You couldn't have asked for a nicer first time, or a sweeter man. 
But there was still one thing you hadn't tried yet that you had been itching to attempt.
It's something you had thought of before, while watching porn or daydreaming. A fantasy you considered while developing your feelings on Javi and imagining him. But when you finally saw his cock with your own eyes for the first time, it was like a spell spread over you and you wouldn't be able to expel it until you gave in to your desires.
So when Javi told you he'd be coming over to spend the weekend, you couldn't wait to play out your fantasy. 
_____
Javier opened the door to your apartment, using the key you gave him last month after you first exchanged I-Love-Yous. Dropping his bag on the kitchen bar, he strolled over to you, pulling you into a deep kiss, letting his hands graze over your ass with a squeeze. “Mi amor,” he whispered, nibbling your ear.
“Javi…” you replied breathlessly already. He pulled away, giving you a mischievous look with his raised brow. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for you to be putty in his hands, but he could tell something had gotten into you today.
“What's got you all worked up, querida?” He kissed your lips again, asking for entrance to your mouth, to which you obliged. “Cat got your tongue?” He practically purred, scraping his teeth against your tongue before gently biting your lip.
You moaned into his mouth before pulling away just enough to whisper. “I wanna try something, Javi…”
He kissed you deeper, then drew back to look into your eyes. “What do you want to try, mi paloma?” (My dove)
Based on his response, you could only imagine his mind was assuming you had chaste fantasies of kissing him in public, or sex in a slightly more adventurous position than the missionary you started with.
But for the first time, you surprised him when you whispered in his ear, “please, let me suck your dick, Javi.”
He froze, swallowing thickly, letting you see his Adam's apple bob. His eyes were wide as saucers. “You..” he stumbled over his words.
“Mmhm…”, you began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.
“You don't have to do that, cariño.” His tongue darted out over his lips, the surprise making his mouth dry.
“Please, Javi,” you whined. “I want to. I can't stop thinking about it. Especially after I saw you on our first night together. I want it so badly. Let me taste you. Let me please you.”
“Especially? You mean you had thought of it before we made love?” He asked, incredulous.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Ever since I saw you in those tight pants the first day we met,” you kissed his lips, finally unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pulling it down his shoulders as the two of you stumbled into the bedroom.
“Fuck. Dirty girl,” he hissed, removing your shirt and kissing you, all the while wrapping his arms around your waist to seamlessly unhook your bra. His hands swept over your sides before returning to your chest to cup your breasts.
Javi’s kisses traced from your lips down to your neck before finally taking your nipple between his lips. He gently sucked on it, swirling his tongue around and giving gentle nibbles to your breasts. 
You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them down just enough for his cock to release from the confines and bounce to attention. He was already hard and waiting, his tip drooling precum.
“Sit,” you told him, pushing down on his shoulder and directing him towards the edge of the bed.
“Sí, señorita,” he answered, easily caving to your demands and removing the rest of his pants from his legs. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread his thighs apart, giving you ample space to work with, his heavy cock bouncing against his torso with every movement.
Your mouth watered as you sank to your knees on the carpet and crawled over between his legs, the space you wished to live in. Running your hands up his thighs, you spread him even further.
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, sending a wave of lust through Javi’s body before you spoke. “I've never done this before Javi. You may need to help guide me.”
Javi looked to the sky in silent praise as you turned your attention back to his waiting cock. You were now eye to eye with it, and slowly you moved your hand to wrap around his length. You gently pulled his foreskin down to reveal his most sensitive area, causing Javier to tremble at the contact. But it wasn't until you began to stroke him while placing a gentle kiss to his leaking tip that his body jerked forward in need. You gave a light lick, swirling your tongue around him before taking him in your mouth completely. 
The taste was new. His precum tasted salty and slightly sweet, but mostly you tasted clean skin and saliva. His scent is what really took over your senses. The natural scent that made your mouth water the first time you smelled him. The aroma that distinctly meant… Javi. 
He wore a cologne that made you swoon, kept strong enough to fill your nostrils, but not overpowering to be used in lieu of a shower. Javi always smelled nice. Clean and freshly shaved, he had a light scent of soap, aftershave, shaving cream, and men's deodorant. The lingering scent of shampoo. The sweet smell of nicotine and a whispered bite of alcohol. Leather from his jacket. The cool intensity of his mint toothpaste and gum that always seemed to nip at your nose when he spoke.
Even when he had just run across the city to chase a criminal, his sweat and musk drew you in like a feral animal. The way his pink shirt clung to his soaked back, chest, and arms; the way his wet hair fell onto his forehead. Your eyes wanted to live on his skin. As much as you tried to ignore Javi those first months of knowing each other, everything about him made you want to jump his bones. His persona oozed sexual appeal and that scared you. That made you want to run for the hills.
“Fuck me,” he sighed, head tilting back while his hips jerked upwards of their own accord. You removed your lips with a sucking pop and once again ran your hands over his thighs. You kept reaching, wrapping your arms around his back and grabbing the part of his ass that wasn't seated with a squeeze.
“Does this feel good, Javi?” You leaned in, licking the underside of his penis from the base to the head, stopping at the tight frenulum tissue and kissing, just like you would his lips.
“Fuck, yes, mierda, keep going,” Javi whined, jerking his hips forward, his tip brushing your waiting lips.
“Tell me how you want it, Javi,” you took the head in your mouth, licking and sucking.
“Just like that. Fuck. Swirl your tongue around,” he demanded.
You obliged, swirling your tongue around the head and finally the leaking tip, your lips still surrounding him. You sunk down further, taking more of him in your mouth and licking the veins on his underside as you slowly drifted further, his tip reaching the back of your throat.
“Fuck, yes,” Javi whimpered, babbling a string of curses as you began to work him in your mouth, up and down, your hand meeting the rhythm of your mouth. Saliva dropped from your mouth as you worked faster, Javier groaning in response. You went to wipe your chin with your other hand, only to have your wrist grabbed. “Leave it,” he hissed. “You look so fucking sexy like this, baby. Drunk on my cock, messy and blown out. Fuck, you're so good,” he rambled.
You smiled around his dick, continuing your movements and letting out a moan of your own pleasure. Finally you had him in your mouth and it was everything you imagined. This wouldn't be the last time, and you could hardly wait to taste his release.
Your hips jerked forward, pussy clenching on air, and you reached down with your other hand to rub frantic circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed closed as you continued to play with both him and now yourself. Whimpers and moans fell from your lips and his, Javi lifting his head from the back of his neck to look down at you.
“Shit. Baby, are you touching yourself too? Pussy so desperate to be filled when my cock is in your mouth?” His voice rumbled, deep and primal, yet pained and desperate all the same.
“Mmhm,” you choked, trying to take him deeper than your throat would allow.
Javi reached out, cupping the back of your head as you took him as far as you could, stroking the rest of him with the hand not between your own legs. Your eyes squeezed tighter, tears brimming as you pushed too far again. “Gentle mi amor, you'll hurt yourself. Too big for that tight throat of yours,” he cooed, gripping your hair tighter. Saliva continued to drip from your mouth as you worked him faster, matching the rhythm with the hand on your clit. You inserted two fingers into your pussy, pumping a few times before alternating between your sensitive clit again.
Both Javi's and your hips jerked forward at their own accord, your bodies so desperate for release, you were both right on the cusp of teetering over the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, Javi's curses continuing, yet the slick noise of wet skin from your mouth and hands prevailed as the loudest in the room. Squelching and sucking filled the air, an orchestra of filthy euphony.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby, where do you want it?” Javi strained to ask, tension lining his jaw.
You removed him just enough to reply, “my mouth, please, Javi, let me taste you.” Immediately you returned your attention to the task at hand.
“Shit,” he groaned as you pumped the length of his cock that didn't meet your lips. His hips jerked and release spilled onto your tongue, salty and sweet. With his climax, you fell over your pleasure point as well, body shaking and tensing, your thighs clenching around your fingers as you frantically rocked against the air. You let out a pained squeal around his cock as you came in your hand.
His hips began to slow, the last of his salty release dripping onto your tongue. With a final suck, you removed your mouth with a pop and opened your mouth for Javi. White, creamy release dripped from your tongue onto his thigh and quickly you closed your mouth with a giggle, swallowing him and licking the spilled cum from his leg.
Meeting your eyes with his, Javi looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes dark and hair disheveled. He panted, and despite having just finished, you could still see the fire of lust in his stare. You imagined you looked the same, drunk on his cock and his release, your own orgasm having just subsided as well. You were somehow still hungry for more, and it seemed you were never fully quenched with Javi around. You'd always want more, no matter how much he gave you.
Javi grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap to straddle him. Though he was softening under you, your hips still jerked at the contact. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss.
You pulled away, looking at him a moment before asking “you don't mind kissing me after I just had your cum in my mouth?”
Javi looked at you as if you spoke another language before realizing you meant it. “Fuck no, baby that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I don't mind tasting myself on your tongue. Ever,” he kissed you again, deeper this time. His tongue swirled with yours and you tasted his cum and his saliva, his scent filled your nose, and his body encompassed yours. Everything around you was Javi.
“I don't mind tasting myself on your lips either,” you pulled away, whispering shyly before going in for another kiss.
Javi pecked your lips, pulling away and raising his brow. “Oh? No?” He teased you. Your cheeks heated and you began to look away, but he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “We can make that happen,” he growled, kissing your lips and picking you up from his lap. He manhandled you like a sack of flour, easily tossing you to the bed with ease as he settled between your legs, his mouth inches from your waiting pussy. 
“Ready for round two?” He smirked, nipping your thigh.
“Always, with you Javi,” you whined, and he dove in, pleasuring you the way you did him. 
You were never surprised at his sexual prowess, but once again you were pleasantly amazed at his level of care and love he devoted to you. You didn't regret waiting, though you were glad he was willing to wait with you. The new experiences with him just grew better and better with each day.
If you told yourself months ago that you would be in bed, in love, happily wrapped in the arms of Javier Peña, you would have laughed at the thought. But then again, life is full of surprises.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months
Text
Taking the Wheel
Time Written-10:47 p.m
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Dick Grayson/fem!reader smut
Clink, clack, clink, clack. The sounds of heels faintly echoed across the long since faded parking lot, carelessly crossing through thin spaces in between cars and trucks to throw the irritating bastard off your back.
Since you didn’t had arrive with friends, and the main reason you arrived to the packed Lounge, especially on weekends, quickly failed, you were left to walk a long ways across the vehicular maze to get towards your car.
A long, irritating walk on eroded asphalt, in obnoxiously irritating footwear.
Honestly? You could’ve cared less for the foot ache, attempting to push your pace to get towards your destination, your club mood spoiled over by a new desire of getting in your warm, vacant bed at home. Your attempt at distracting your endlessly rattled mind by going towards one of the hottest clubs in the city proved to be a complete failure.
This was Gotham. You knew better than to believe you were going to enjoy a night out for clubbing, completely ignorant to the possibility of the last man you ever expected to arrive, clad in his goddamn uniform, on the search for you.
The only way you learned it was him throughout all the blaring music and strong strobe light ambiance was the roar of patrons crowding around the hottest man of the hour around the dance floor.
What a stupid plan honestly, especially with the overwhelming presence of the obnoxious vigilante following shortly behind you, wondering if you were just doing this to get a reaction out of him.
“You can stop following me now, Grayson.”
It was strangely empty tonight, how he managed to shake off the crowds to go after you alone was a question you could’ve cared less to understand or answer.
"You're walking at night? Alone? You realize you live in Gotham, right?”
You only continued walking, holding yourself with your clutch purse tucked under your shirt, your heels scraping along stray parking lot gravel.
"Aren’t you cold?" Dick asks, trying to hide his worry about you being in that dress in this sixty five degree night.
He was right, watching your head shake no, despite how you carried yourself.
"Oh, come on." Dick says in assuming defeat, only to surprise you via cutting off your path by hopping up on the nearest challenger hood, abruptly jumping in front of your path.
“You can't just walk off like nothing just happened between us." Dick asserts, meeting your aggravated stare.
“Get out of my way—“
"Look, I'm tired of giving you space. Call me clingy, I don’t care. We need to talk about what happened, right now." The words sound more desperate than he intended, other than stern and demanding.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” You mutter, attempting to continue your walk before he holds a hand out in front of you, preventing you from squeezing past him.
"There’s always something to say,” Dick says, hoping you’d try to look back at him.
You’re clearly hurting more than you’re letting on. He can’t really blame you.
You’re no party girl, but you are a girl he hurt. Throwing yourself back out into the dating pool was a typical response, even he’s done it, but he can’t let that happen this time. Not with you.
"Let's... let's talk about this somewhere safe, okay?" He asks, looking down at you. You shift your head a bit, giving him an annoyed glare.
“I wanna go home, okay?” You nearly spat back to him, insisting to yourself that you had no patience to deal with him.
Dick doesn't immediately move in response, gazing down at you with sympathy instead of irritation, such a heart throb in his pretty eyes.
He probably practiced this often every morning in the mirror ever since you broke up, keeping you hooked like a mouse with cheese, or a pretty boy who always knew what to say.
“… Okay.”
He offers his hand out, awaiting your keys in his open palm.
“At least let me drive you home.” He offers, remaining stagnant until he received the only answer he expected. It’ll make him feel a whole lot better knowing you weren’t in the worst place in Gotham right now.
You could only huff through your nose before rummaging through your purse, pulling out your keys.
“Fine,” you mutter, dropping the item into his quickly closing hand. “Just home. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” Dick confirms with a hand raised before stepping off to the side, allowing you to walk ahead of him. “Promise.”
The car was warm, the heater constantly blowing warm air against your exposed back, nearly bumping back against your leather steering wheel.
The driver’s seat had long since been reclined, the material lightly squeaking in response to your sweaty bodies shuffling against each other. Lips battling in between teeth and tongue for dominance he willingly gave you, giving you the impression of control.
His body completely hidden by the suit, while you were still in your backless, black sequin party dress.
Sure, the car was private and warm, the alley was dark, the only light coming from the tiny radio screen, faintly reflecting off the various tiny black sequins of your dress, now pulled down from your torso, decorating your waist like a belt of dying stars.
You remembered the way his gloved hands impatiently unclipped the seatbelt so he could pull you across to his lap after an unprecedented, filthy make-out. The way he had purposely massaged the insides of your thighs caused electricity to shoot through you, needing you as close as physically possible, your short dress riding up precariously over your thighs.
"I should have done this sooner," Dick grunts against your painted lips while pinching your nipples in his thumbs, your nails rasping down the smooth material of his Nightwing suit, pulling it off his shoulders.
“D’you think someone will see us like this…?”
"No one's gonna be looking," Dick gasps out, his tone confident while dripping with cocky arrogance. "And if they do... who the hell cares."
Dick could barely focus on what was happening outside the car as it was.
For some reason, that thought made this all the more exciting. Not that the thought of being seen with a beautiful woman in Nightwing’s lap ever seemed like a bad thing.
“You looked amazing in this dress..." he runs a hand along the curve of your hip.
"But you look a lot better without it."
You’d physically cringe if you weren’t so damn aroused. Only someone like him could pull off cheesy one liners about eighty six percent of the time.
"So do something about it,” you whisper, nipping his bottom lip in your teeth, nearly contemplating on drawing blood once he chuckled.
"With pleasure, Princess.”
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he lifted you slightly with such ease, allowing him to pull his hard cock from the torturous material that suffocated him.
It would’ve been a much quicker process to undress if he randomly decided to arrive in that god awful disco suit, but it was far too late to complain now.
Prep was limited to the pleasant view of Dick stuffing three fingers into your warm hole, smirking at your hiss before raising them to his mouth, making a show of gathering his own spit while tasting you, before giving the tip of his red, angry cock a few quick strokes.
His fingers hooked your thin, messy panties to the side, hiding his mused smile from your gaze upon hearing your terribly hidden whimper as you felt the soft, blunt tip poking at your opening. A large gasp of air quickly invaded and evaded your lungs as you pushed down on him, feeling him splitting you open inch by torturously thick inch.
His own lust begged the rest of his consciousness to push further into you, aching to stuff the rest of himself inside your wet, greedy cunt. Luckily, you listened to your own thoughts, sinking yourself the rest of the way until you were properly seated, your bare thighs resounding against his with limited time to adjust.
"Holy-" He finds himself whining out, nearly crumbling apart from your silky, sweet cunt gripping him like a damn vice. Incidentally, his grip on your thong tightened after an involuntary thrust, forcing the weak band to snap apart.
The man could’ve cared less, carelessly tossing the ruined garment before gripping your hips with both hands, fingers hooking along your dress as an additional anchor to feverishly fuck you, hearing your breathing shift into quick, eager moans.
He wanted to take control so bad, but he was losing it before he even began.
The moans he emitted were heavenly, the muscles in his throat constricting as his head tilts back against the rest. He groans out your name in a delightful sigh, his fingers digging into your plush ass.
Lipstick prints littered his neck, eyes squeeze shut behind his domino mask.
“God, I've missed you,” the vigilante whimpers out, admiring your silvery necklace clink along the valley of your perfect, juicy tits bouncing erratically close to his chest, accompanied by the jingle of your matching bangles as you sunk your nails deep into the muscles along his back.
Dick's heavy lidded eyes gazed at your flushed face, your cheeks tinted pink with heavy, orgasmic blush. Your mascara stained lashes littered with cloudy black tears, bits of dappled glitter in the corners of your eyes, your signature touch, remaining poised along your perfect face. The picture he always looked forward to taking after every successful date night.
"Do you feel how much I've missed you?" Dick grumbles against your shoulder, his voice breathless, despite his best efforts to control his emotions. “Feel how hard, how deep, just fucking into this pussy? That’s all you baby.” The seemingly endless cooes against your neck render endless shivers down your spine, garnering the exact reactions he wanted from you; straining against the tight clench of your eager cunt.
"Oh-God. Fuuuck yes, missed you so much, princess,” Dick whispers, his tone filled with lust and excitement. He teetered on the edge of begging you to bite him again, to mark his neck up however with as many nips as you please, eager to see such raw evidence of your teeth marks in the morning.
“Mph— take it, baby. F-fucking take it all.”
You could only moan in response to his many words against his neck, your painted eyes nearly fluttering closed as you persist on your relentless pace. He was enjoying this a little too much, as much as you were, if not more.
Amidst the mind numbing euphoria of fucking his ex girlfriend in her own car, calloused hands full of black sequins and exposed skin, even he was calling himself an idiot in his own mind as he whimpers a lot louder than he intended within your shared ecstasy.
He was a damn idiot, thinking only about how much he’s hated being in a relationship with anyone except you. How much you’ve grown to become his favorite person; the one woman he needs every damn night. Every second of the damn day.
And if he wants to prove it by having you ride his cock in the seat of a car parked in a secluded alleyway, so be it. He’ll spoil you with a white plush bed caked in rose petals once after you agree to get back together with him.
"Ba-Baby..." Dick croaks through his stutter, his voice cracking slightly as he watches you come to an abrupt halt to his dismay.
A weak, pathetic grunt spews from his lips as you roll your hips, rocking along his lap, his bruised Adam’s apple bobbing after each whimper and whine. "Don’t stop—don’t stop. Shiiit, I’m begging you—“
His words muffle in a quick second as you stuff your ruined, bunched up thong into his mouth, cerulean eyes widening in surprise by boldness.
Many times he’s taken the lead, regardless over where your horny selves ended up. Any recollection of him doing this to you quickly faded once you locked eyes, his brows raised in surprise and submission to your taunt, prideful expression, lipstick smeared lips scowling in annoyance.
Right now, right now you wanted nothing more than to take out your frustrations on him. Even if it was one of the least violent thoughts you had when it came to him, you compensated via heavy scratches and relentless bites on his neck, and now this.
He wouldn’t be whining like such a bastard in a rut without your sweet, creamy pussy downgrading him from an arrogant, cocky, fearless vigilante into a raspy, quivering disciple. Bright, pretty putty in your hands.
Your hands grasped along the back of his head, purposefully frazzling his sweaty, perfect locks of hair as you eagerly chased another kiss. Your hands gripped his hair tighter causing him to take a sharp intake of air in.
You wouldn’t be such a quivering mess without the constant spear of his hard, delicious cock. A victim to this nearly endless cycle of ‘Fuck now, ask questions later.’
‘Or, just fuck some more later.’
You knew this, and you knew he’d give you what you wanted first before you even considered the idea of forgiving him.
“I need you to- fuck, j-just shut up. Shut up a-and keep going, Dick. Keep— Keep going. Just- Just keep fucking me.”
He stares straight ahead at the rich goddess amidst the fogged up windshield in front of him, his hands reinforcing his grasp along your thighs.
Obediently, he picked up the pace, the fat head hitting directly on your sweet spot much rougher and faster with intentions to leave you bruised, hoping you’d allow him to care for you for the rest of the week shortly after.
He moaned much louder against the damp, pheromone laced fabric, swallowing up your sickeningly sweet venom while he pistons his hips, making his soaking wet, twitchy balls constantly smack against your overstretched cunt.
Oh, if only you knew how much you drove Richard Grayson wild, if only you knew.
Hell, what was the argument even about? Neither of you could barely remember anymore.
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navybrat817 · 2 years
Text
What Goes Around
Pairing: BFD/DBF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't. Word Count: Over 6.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, light Daddy kink, age gap (reader is in early 20's and Bucky late 40's), arguing, light violence, swearing, conflicted reader (everything is consensual!), everyone is a mess, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Woohoo! Stepped out of my comfort zone a bit on this and I'm so proud! Thank you to @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @buckyownsmylife, @targaryenvampireslayer , @christywantspizza , @sgt-seabass , @lookiamtrying for listening to me ramble about this. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you as well), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ***Any soft!dark undertones are unintentional as everything is consensual.***
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You met Bethany Barnes your freshman year of college. While some of the girls on your floor knew each other, you went off to university not knowing a soul and had to be assigned a roommate. Your nerves shot up when you walked into the shared room. Beth, as she preferred to be called, was intimidatingly beautiful. You hadn't met any supermodels, but she could've chosen that as her profession with her tall, slender build, long auburn hair, and sparkling blue eyes.
Your nervousness faded when she smiled and gave you a hug, after asking if it was okay.
"You're here!" she smiled more when she pulled away, looking over your shoulder at who you thought was your dad. "By the closet."
You weren't normally stunned silent by looking at a person, but that was what happened when you met James "Bucky" Barnes. With the beard and quiet confidence in which he carried himself, you would've mistaken him for a professor had it not been for the fact that he was in the dormitory. Call it instant attraction or lust, but you found yourself openly staring at the handsome man as he carried a box into the room. He gazed at you, too, or so you thought. Your mind may have been playing tricks on you.
"Dad, quit staring at my roommate. That's weird."
The needle on the record scratched. Her dad. You could see where she got her good looks. He was taller and broader, his hair dark brown instead of auburn, and eyes a deeper shade of blue. One of the hottest men to ever grace the earth, if anyone asked for your opinion.
It didn't matter how good looking he was. This was Beth's dad. It put him in the "look, but don't touch" column.
Your dad, Dave, appeared moments later and introduced himself. Bucky was kind enough to help him with the rest of your stuff and even offered to buy lunch. While he didn't look the least bit upset about leaving, it was clear your dad was having a tough time holding it together and even had tears in his eyes. You understood. It was the two of you for so long and now you were out the door.
Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile to ease his worries.
"Hey. Your daughter and I will look out for each other, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Plus, I think we're going to be good friends."
She was right.
To your surprise, you discovered that Beth only lived about an hour away from your hometown. Like you, Beth didn't know anyone, but she was friendly and welcoming. Definitely more outgoing than you would ever be. Her popularity grew quickly, but the two of you were there for each other like she promised. While you had lost your mother, hers took off when she was so young she couldn't even remember her face. Bucky did the best he could to raise her. Like your dad had done for you.
Maybe that was why they became such good friends, too.
The two of you traded off different weekends at each other's houses when you left campus and spent a few holidays together. You did a couple of summer trips with your dads doing their best not to be overbearing. Eventually Beth joined a sorority and moved into the chapter's house, so you no longer lived together. Bucky suggested that your dad move closer to his place when he decided to sell the house, that way everyone could still spend time together.
"You wouldn't mind, would you?" your dad asked at the time.
You didn't at the time. It still gave everyone a chance to hang out and your dad seemed to need it more than you. He admired Bucky for being self-made, having a nice house, and a good job. It was as if the man's confidence rubbed off on him. He began to dress better and get in shape. He mentioned possibly dating again, which you encouraged. Your dad deserved to be happy.
You couldn't have predicted it would all go to hell after graduation.
You nursed your wine as you sat at the bar, staring into the abyss of the liquid as you swirled it around. Maybe if you looked long enough, you'd forget about tonight. It should have been an evening of celebration for you. Nothing major, but it was something that meant the world to you.
"I think you need something stronger."
You stayed silent when you turned to your right, slightly surprised when you saw none other than Bucky take a seat beside you. The citrus scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when he moved his stool close enough that your knees touched. Up close, even with the dim bar lightning, you could see the gray hairs in his trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed brown hair. Of all the people you expected to see, he certainly wasn't one of them.
"What are you doing here?" you asked.
"I thought you could use a friend."
"Are we friends?" You asked softly.
Hurt flashed in his eyes, which filled you with guilt. "I thought we were."
You weren't sure if you would label Bucky as a friend, but you cared for the man. He had been good to you over the years, staying up with you and watching movies when you couldn't sleep or listening to you ramble on about your papers, internship, resume, while Beth pampered herself. He gave advice when you asked and listened when you only wanted to talk.
You didn't need to be rude to him.
"We are," you wanted to assure him and you felt a bit better when his shoulders relaxed. "How did you even know where to find me?"
"You rushed off before dinner started and you mentioned that you liked this place," he replied, like it was obvious. "We were supposed to be celebrating. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing," he teased, gesturing to himself and drawing your attention to his large body as you smiled a little.
Over the last few years, you got used to seeing different looks from him. Jeans and shirts tight enough to see the muscles underneath, sweatpants that hung low enough to let the imagination wander, swim trunks when you went on vacation, and even the occasional suit. He opted for a dark blue suit tonight that matched his eyes, but skipped the tie. It wasn't a look many could pull off and he did it with ease.
You blinked and shook your head, trying not to pay attention to how good he looked. Just because you were upset didn't mean you had a right to check him out. It was wrong to be attracted to him and you refused to acknowledge it. Mainly because he was one of your dad's best friends and one of your best friend's dads.
No, she's not my best friend. Not anymore.
“We even kind of match,” he smiled to himself.
You glanced down at your short, sleeveless dress. It wasn’t revealing or flashy, but you felt beautiful in it. The shade of blue was close to his suit. Part of you felt silly for dressing up for a simple dinner.
"I guess we do," you said softly, looking at your glass again.
“Surprised the boys aren’t lining up for a chance with you,” he said.
You snorted, thankful you didn’t take a sip of your wine. You would’ve spit it out. “The boys have never lined up for me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Boys usually talked to you to get closer to Beth.
“Their loss,” Bucky said sincerely as he held up a couple of fingers for the bartender.
“And we have nothing to celebrate,” you said, not wanting to dwell on your sad dating history.
"Bullshit," he said, ordering two shots of whiskey and setting some money on the counter once the bartender came over. "You got a job at Stark Industries. I'm proud of you."
Your cheeks heated at the praise. "Thank you," you said, sparing him a glance when he passed you a glass. "I already have a drink.”
“And I said it isn’t strong enough,” he hesitated as he picked up his own. “Beth said you weren’t much of a drinker. Not even on your 21st birthday. You were a good girl, weren’t you?”
You were conflicted as you listened. Did Bucky mean for that to be an innuendo? You chose to focus on Beth instead, and how angry you felt. How many nights did you hold her hair back while she puked?
“You're right. We should celebrate."
Bucky gave you a worried look as you picked up your drink.
Your cheeks ached from your wide smile. "To my dad and your daughter fucking each other. Cheers!"
You might as well address the elephant in the room since he wouldn't.
He frowned when you downed the shot, the burn spreading from the back of your throat to your chest. You half expected him to see a clench in his jaw or an embarrassed blush in his cheeks, but he merely threw his drink back and slammed the glass down when he finished. "You sure you don't want to do another toast? I don't think the entire bar heard you."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to make a scene. I did that already, remember?"
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You hadn't seen Beth in months since you graduated. Neither of you landed dream jobs right away, but you did find temporary work to help cover the rent for your new place. You wanted to be independent and your dad supported you. But your friend hadn’t even seen your place.
Any time you reached out to meet up, she made an excuse why she couldn't join you or bailed at the last minute if she agreed. At first, you didn't take any offense. You figured she met a guy. She got like that sometimes over boys, but she had never gone that long without hanging out with you.
Maybe she had outgrown you after college.
Your dad sensed that you missed Beth and assured you that you'd see her soon. He planned a special dinner to celebrate you getting a job at Stark Industries. Beth promised she wouldn't miss it. You thought it was strange how easily she accepted your dad's invitation, but you discovered quickly that she wasn't there for you in the first place.
"Sweetie," your dad began as he slipped an arm around Beth's waist. "We have something we want to talk to you about. Beth and I are, well, we're seeing each other. Now I know that may be difficult to hear, especially since I haven't seen anyone serious since your mother, but…"
Your dad used to describe you as amicable and well-behaved when someone asked him about his daughter. No matter what life threw your way, you did your best to be friendly and stay out of trouble. It could have been before your mother was always kind and you did your best to follow in her footsteps. It often meant putting the needs of others before your own, but it never bothered you.
Until tonight.
Until you saw the ring on Beth's finger.
Beth, the girl who flashed boys from her sorority house window and blew off studying. The same girl who cried with you on the anniversary of your mom's death. She was going to marry your dad.
A slow moving storm began to swirl in your mind. You managed to hear your dad say that they began seeing each other the night of graduation and promised it wasn't sooner. It explained why Beth had blown you off all that time. They were trying to figure out how to tell you, but all they did was lie.
Outrage was a foreign feeling to you and you didn't know how to channel it. Were you supposed to scream? Cry? All you knew was that it clawed at your insides until it broke free.
Whatever you yelled was enough to make your dad step back in shock and Beth grab your arm to drag you outside. The porch light illuminated her enough to see the anger etched on her face. You didn't even recognize her.
"What the fuck? You've been fucking my dad?!" you yelled, snatching your arm back from her.
"Yeah, I'm fucking your dad!" she yelled back.
"How did this even happen?!" you demanded to know, immediately regretting asking a second later.
"After your graduation dinner, we were drinking and I said I always thought he was hot and-"
"God, stop!" you shrieked, covering your ears until her mouth stopped moving. "So, you two have been sneaking around behind my back and lying to me for months?!"
"We had to because we knew you'd lose your shit! I knew you wouldn’t be mature about this!"
You trembled as you took a step back. You weren't used to yelling or being yelled at. There were times that you and Beth bickered, but it was nothing like this.
And, of course, you'd lose your shit. What did she honestly expect? Was she the real reason your dad began to take better care of himself over the years?
"Why?" You asked almost timidly, a contrast to how you shouted moments ago. "I don't want to sound cliché, but you can have anyone you want. Why him?"
"Because I want him," she said unapologetically.
Beth, in the time you knew her, was never afraid to go after what or who she wanted. She also went all in with guys. She didn't believe in doing it half-ass. But your dad was far from her type, the opposite of the fuckboys she typically dated.
"My dad isn't one of those stupid boys who does lines of coke off your ass. He's a good man."
"I know he's a good man. That's why I'm marrying him," she snapped, holding up her hand for you to see the ring again. It was beautiful. If you had to guess, it was also expensive. "We just want your support."
You wondered what it would be like at times to have a stepmom. Whenever you envisioned it, your best friend never came to mind. Your dad had to be going through a midlife crisis. God, what would your mom say if she was alive? What did Bucky have to say?
"You're half his age!" you argued, the anger starting to surface again as you stepped forward and smacked her hand away. "What do you two possibly have in common?"
"A lot, actually," she said, clutching her hand against her chest. "You never had a problem with your dad and I hanging out in all the years we've been friends. And you wouldn't give a shit about his age if this was any other guy."
"But this isn't just any guy! This is my dad!" you argued, pleading with her to understand as your vision blurred. Didn’t she realize how awkward it was? What if they ended things? "And you're my best friend."
Beth bit her lip at the sight of your tears. "Your dad and I care about each other, okay? We deserve to be happy. And I care about you, too, but I'm not letting him go. I refuse to be like you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you demanded when you watched the sympathy leave her eyes.
When backed into a corner, Beth lashed out like an animal. Anyone who got too close got hurt. Unlucky for you, you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
"You spent all four years of college studying and being nice instead of living. You only had fun when I made it happen. You hardly dated. You're lucky you even got laid at all," she said, digging into your insecurities. It was tough for guys to look at you when Beth stood beside you. It made you wonder how long she felt this way about you. "Deep down, you’re just a fucking coward. Unlike you, I have the balls to go after what I want, so that's what I did. You should find a pair and do the same."
Your hand connected with Beth's cheek before you could stop yourself. Like a scene out of a movie, your dad opened the door in time for him to witness the slap. But it wasn't his hand that gripped your shoulder to pull you away.
It was Bucky’s.
Your hand stung as Beth dissolved into tears in your dad's arms. He looked disappointed in you and said as much as you tried to say something. You waited for Bucky to snap at you for hitting his daughter, but he stayed eerily silent as he looked at your hand.
Did he hate you now?
"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away before he could say a word.
You ducked inside long enough to grab your purse and take off before any of them could stop you. It was a coward's way out. Maybe Beth was right about you, after all.
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"You didn't cause a scene," Bucky said, ordering you both another drink. "That being said, I didn't hear most of the argument, but I did see you hit Beth."
You winced a little and rubbed your palm against your thigh. It was the first time you ever hit someone. "I'm sorry for slapping her."
"Don't be. She deserved it," he said under his breath.
You didn't expect him to say that.
"Your dad is worried, you know," he said, surprising you again. "Said you aren't answering his calls."
"No, I'm not. I don't know what to say to him," you admitted, finally taking out your phone to glance at it. You had missed calls and texts from your dad and Beth, but you refused to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages. "I don't get it."
"What do you not get?" He asked curiously when you finally took your drink.
"Them," you said, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat again. "I don't get them together. Beth isn't. Well, she's not…"
"Your mother?" he guessed.
You looked in your lap with a sigh.
"No, she isn't, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. She won't try to be your mom. Just a partner to your dad," he said. Was your dad someone who could ground her? Was she someone who could make him feel younger? "They're consenting adults. And your dad is lonely. Has been for years."
It sounded like he was trying to placate you, but something in his voice kept you from calling him out. You knew your dad was lonely. Beth said something similar about Bucky.
"I think Beth is bringing him out of his shell," Bucky gently added.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen them in months,” you mumbled.
“They should’ve made time for you,” he said, putting his hand over yours. You didn’t dwell on how nice his touch felt since he pulled away just as quickly. “I should have, too. I’ve missed seeing you around the place.”
It wasn’t his job to make time for you.
“You’ve missed me?” you questioned, warmth spreading in your face as he smiled. It was nice to hear that. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“Though I have a feeling you won't want to stop by as much now to see me.”
"If I don't, it has nothing to do with you," you said.
"Sure," he smiled a little.
You examined him with a critical eye, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. Wouldn't it be awkward for him, too? Where was his anger at the situation? Was he hiding it?
"Why are you not upset? She's your daughter."
He gave you a wistful smile and had his drink. A drop of liquid stayed on his lip and you were tempted to wipe it away. Or lick it away. You couldn't act on those urges, especially after the way you went off on Beth. It would be hypocritical.
"Just because I’m not letting it show doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Truth is, I can’t control what Beth does. She stopped listening to me a long time ago. And if I tried to force her to let Dave go, it would make her want him more," he explained, his jaw twitching. "I had a few choice words for him since he kept it from you."
"Wait," you swung in your chair and almost landed in his lap. His hands gripped your arms to steady you, but he didn't let go. "Because he kept it from me? Not you?"
Bucky gave you a single nod, making your heart crack.
"So you knew?" you asked, sadness bubbling up this time instead of anger.
"I did. I’m sorry."
Why would they tell Bucky and not you? Did they expect him to be more mature? Was he the lesser of the two evils or worse?
“How long have you known?” you asked, moving off the stool with his help. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I’ve only known about their relationship for a couple of weeks,” he answered, trying to stop you when you put your phone in your bag. No wonder he wasn’t as upset. He had time to process the news. “Look, it wasn’t my place. You had enough on your mind with job interviews and I was-”
“You were what? Trying to protect me?”
“In a way, yeah,” he said, making you take a step back when he stood up. “I know how my daughter can be, but I didn’t expect them to pick your celebration dinner to tell you.”
“Tonight wasn’t about me,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It was never meant to be about me.”
Age gap and weirdness aside, you didn't want to say out loud that you felt pushed out. Your dad and Beth would be wrapped up in each other from now on. They already were. How would Beth be able to talk to you about romantic issues when those very issues involved your dad? Would your father make time for you? What if they decided to have a kid?
Were you wrong for thinking of yourself instead of being happy for them?
“Come here,” he whispered, embracing you in a comforting hug.
You were close to bursting into tears, shutting your eyes to keep them at bay. What were you supposed to do with the emotions you were feeling? And why did it feel so good to be in his arms?
“I don’t want to be mad at him,” you whispered.
“You won’t be mad at him forever. He’s your father,” he said, leaning in close so his lips brushed your ear. “But he isn’t your daddy, is he?”
Your eyes slowly opened at his words.
“You want me to be your daddy?”
You nearly stumbled back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. There was no playfulness in his gaze. Nothing to give away that it was a joke. You heard him wrong or imagined that because there was no way he would ask you that. Maybe those couple of shots got to you quicker than you thought.
“What did you say?” you asked.
“You heard what I said,” he said evenly.
You laughed as you backed away more. It had to be a joke and you weren’t in the mood for games. So why wasn’t he laughing with you?
“Whatever that was, I-I can’t process this right now. I need air. I need to go home.”
“You’ve been drinking,” Bucky pointed out as you began to walk to the side door. “I can take you. Let me take care of you.
“You’ve been drinking, too,” you said over your shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Wait!”
You pushed the door open and welcomed the cool air as you walked down the alley. It didn’t bother you since the alcohol warmed you a bit. It was dark, except for the glow of the neon lights. The perfect cover to hide your oncoming tears.
You turned around when you heard footsteps behind you, but didn’t speak when you saw Bucky a few feet away. What would you say to him? It was difficult to think with him watching you, the air thick with tension. The longer his gaze lingered on you, the harder it was to breathe. If he noticed your hand shaking when you wiped at your eyes, he didn't point it out.
Such a gentleman.
"You're not going home until you talk to me," he said, taking another step toward you.
"You can't keep me out here all night. There. I spoke to you."
"That isn't what I meant and you know it. You're pissed about everything, I get it, but don't act like I'm the bad guy here."
"You're not the good guy either," you snapped, pointing back at the bar. “What the hell was that in there? Asking to be my daddy?”
“You know how relieved Dave was that I didn’t beat the shit out of him over Beth? Or that I didn’t push him away as a friend? You know why I didn’t?” he asked, avoiding your question. “Because I’d be a fucking hypocrite.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve wanted you since I walked into your dorm room your freshman year.”
The air rushed out of your lungs. A man who is practically sex on legs wanted you. Someone off limits and you could never have.
“Beth never wanted a stepmom and the women I dated didn’t want a bratty daughter. I almost gave up on dating and then I saw you. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t have you because you were half my age and living with my daughter,” he explained.
You thought back over the years, searching for signs in the memories that he wanted you. The late, quiet nights together. His interests in your studies. How he used to joke with your dad that the reason you didn’t date much was because the boys weren’t good enough for you.
“Been almost five years and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried to be good. What’s stopping us now?”
“I. That’s not. We.” Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? “You’re a good man and a good looking man, but you’re Beth’s dad.”
Bucky’s bitter laugh chilled you more than the cool air.
“So, you’re going to pretend that you don’t want me? That you haven’t wanted me all these years and I’ve just imagined the looks and want between us?” he demanded, every bit the confident man you grew used to seeing. “Say you don’t want me and we’ll forget this whole thing.”
You couldn’t say that.
“Say I do want you,” you said carefully. “We just can’t.”
You backed up when he strode forward and wrapped his hand around your wrist. The touch was gentler than you expected as he turned and backed you against the wall, your bag unceremoniously falling to the ground. You were forced to look at him when he gripped your chin, pressing his body closer to yours. His eyes flickered between your gaze and trembling mouth and you wondered if he heard how fast your heart pounded.
Were his eyes always such a dark shade of blue or did you ignore the lust hidden beneath the surface?
"Why can’t we, hmm?" he asked, firmly keeping your head in place when you tried to avert your gaze. "Is it because you’re scared? You don’t have to be.”
You were scared as hell. Bucky is a man. Experienced.
"Aren't you tired of being good? I know I am."
You thought back to Beth’s previous words. How she had the balls to go after what she wanted and you needed to do the same. What better time to start than now?
You pressed your lips against his and it didn’t take him long for his tongue to slip in, tasting the whiskey as he devoured you. He moaned when your hands moved down his torso, allowing you to divulge in the thing you both denied yourselves. Some twisted part of you mourned what you could’ve had for months had you simply stopped being a good girl.
Were you truly good to begin with?
The line of his hard cock pressed against you as he rocked his hips and kissed down your neck. “This isn’t how I pictured it, but I can’t fucking wait.”
“How did you picture it?” you whimpered, rolling your hips back against his.
“I’d rather show you later,” he whispered, lightly biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough that pain and pleasure lingered. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He moved away enough to push your dress up around your hips, shocking you when he tore your panties off. Tucking the ruined fabric into his pants pocket, he slipped his hand back between your thighs. His fingers were cool against your slick folds and you shamelessly writhed, needing everything he was willing to give you.
“Did you touch yourself at night wishing I’d show up and fuck your pretty pussy until you cried for me? Hmm?” He said, kissing you again as you whined. The light scratch of his beard made you shiver as he nipped your bottom lip. “Tell me you want my cock.”
Your head spun at his demand. You weren’t a virgin, but the guys you had been with before weren’t big on dirty talk. Unless they talked about how amazing their cocks were.
They weren’t.
“I want your cock,” you whined against his lips, desperate for him.
You wanted him to fill you up until you were sore, aching, and forgot why you were so upset in the first place.
“I’ll give it to you,” he promised.
Your fingers twisted in his shirt when he slid his fingers into your wet slit. You couldn’t recall a time in your life you felt this hot and slick. And feeling one finger push inside, you were sure this was nothing more than an erotic, dirty dream.
“Fuck, you’re tight. And you’re gonna let me fuck you against this wall, aren’t you?” he asked as you nodded. “Dirty girl. My dirty girl now.”
His finger twisted as he added another and you nearly smacked your head against the wall, but his other hand came up to soften the blow. “Bucky,” you gasped.
“I don’t know if you really want my cock,” he teased, moving his long fingers deep. “Might need to hear it one more time.”
As if you weren’t practically riding the thick digits at this point and moaning in the dark alleyway, he really needed to hear you say it again? The squelching sound of your pussy wasn’t loud enough? But your body liked his teasing. Loved his demands.
“Please, I need your cock. Please, Bucky. Please.” you begged, almost sobbing when he took his fingers out.
“But you said we can't do this. Isn't that what you said?” he asked.
When you opened your mouth to answer, he pushed his wet fingers inside.
“Taste yourself and try to say you don't want me. I dare you,” he whispered, wiping some of the bittersweet juices on your tongue. His fingers slipped free as you gaped at him, watching as he licked the remainder with a groan. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”
The sound of him unbuckling his belt snapped you out of your stupor. “Bucky, I’m-”
“On the pill and clean. I know,” he cut you off as he took his cock out and stroked himself. “I need to fill you up, pretty girl. Need to make you mine, the way I should’ve a long time ago.”
You struggled to keep yourself upright as he guided himself between your legs, holding your hip steady when he pushed the head in. You weren’t nearly stretched enough to take him, but your greedy pussy didn’t care as he slipped in inch by inch. You moaned as he kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You had never felt so full and likely never would again.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as your walls pulsed around him.
In the dark place in the back of your mind you kept locked away, you wondered how he looked and sounded when he was pleased. If he gasped when he came or if his eyes rolled back. You were going to find out though, weren’t you?
You cried out when he thrust, one hand moving up to grip his hair. The quick, hard motions felt as desperate as you did inside. You didn’t care if it was fast or dirty. You were tired of being clean. This wasn’t tender or making love. It wasn’t soft touches and kisses to your breasts or slowly building you up.
It was Bucky Barnes fucking you against an alley wall.
“Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” he asked in awe, pulling one of your legs around his hip to shove his cock in deeper. “Do I have to chase anyone else off?”
You didn’t hear the words as you cried out. It felt so good to be taken like this. The rage, hurt, confusion, all of it molded into ecstasy. You never wanted it to end.
A light smack to your thigh pulled you back to the present.
“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.” The gravel in his voice grew with each punctuated thrust.
“I’m yours,” you moaned, helpless to the onslaught and uncaring of the implication in the moment.
Your response encouraged him to move faster, kissing you deeply with a groan. His thrusts became almost punishing, like he had to feel you let go so he could come. It wouldn’t take much more with your orgasm building the way it was. You’d be surprised if his cock wasn’t coated in your wetness once you came.
“I-I’m gonna…” you trailed off.
“I know, pretty girl,” he grunted, gripping your chin again. “Be good and come for Daddy.”
Your body seized up before you exploded with pleasure. You struggled to hold yourself up as you trembled with bliss, your vision going white from the intensity. It was so much at once and you thought you might sob from how good it felt.
“Good girl. My good fucking girl,” he encouraged as he fucked you through it, the obscene sounds drowning out your whimpers. He tipped over the edge after a few more thrusts, coating your wet walls. “Fuck, take it.”
He managed to hold you up as he finished, panting as his head fell back. Your grip on his jacket loosened as the reality of the situation sank in, like a bucket of cold water being washed over you. Why did pleasure have to be short lived?
You fucked Bucky. You let Bucky fuck you. How could you cross that line? Just because Beth and your dad had done so, why did you think you could?
God, what were you going to tell them? That you were the biggest hypocrite alive? That you were no better than they were?
What goes around, comes around.
“Hey,” he whispered when he lifted his head, both of you still breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“It��s not okay,” you whispered as he pulled out of you, your mixed release dripping down your thighs. You covered your face as he fixed your dress and himself. “Oh, my god.”
You flinched and dropped your hands when he pulled you away from the wall. His expression was unreadable as he shrugged his jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said again.
“W-We can’t do that again,” you whispered as he bent down to retrieve your bag.
"Why not?" he asked, picking up some of the contents that fell out before he stood up.
"Because we can't," you said with no strength behind your words.
“We’re doing this again. You can’t avoid me or this,” he said, pointing between the two of you.
“Your daughter is marrying my dad. This whole thing is fucked up and-”
“And I said I'm tired of being good. I’m fucking tired of denying myself the chance to be happy,” he said firmly as he got in your face. “So are you. I know it."
You pulled the jacket tighter around you, not backing away as he stared at you. Did you shake from the sudden cold, your orgasm, or from the thought that he wasn’t about to let you go?
His gaze softened before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get a cab and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it once you’ve rested.”
You let him take your hand, your feet moving on their own accord to follow him to the end of the alley. “I can get home on my own.”
You needed to be alone so you could figure out what to do about everything.
“You said you’re mine, didn’t you?” he said, smiling when you stopped. “And what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
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Would love to explore more of this new pairing. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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wileys-russo · 6 months
Text
spontaneous II l.williamson x reader
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just some fluff because she's so annoying gf coded spontaneous II l.williamson x reader
you jumped slightly as you heard your phone start to ring, hunting about in the mountain of cushions you were curled up in to find it, huffing in annoyance as it stopped ringing.
you paused for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief as it started to ring again, finally finding it wedged down the side of the lounge, pulling it out with a grunt, squealing as you almost sent yourself toppling off the edge.
"hello?" you breathed out, hearing an all too familiar chuckle on the other end of the line. "why are you so out of breath?" leah asked and you could already tell she had an amused smile curled into her lips.
"did you lose your phone in the lounge again?" she questioned with a chuckle. "no!" you huffed, only rewarded with silence. "yes." you admitted quietly, leahs laugh ringing through as you whined it wasn't funny.
"is there a reason you called besides to take the piss out of me? the whole point of you not being home is that i get a break from that." you rolled your eyes as now she was the one to huff. "hey! i was calling because i missed you." leah groaned as you now laughed.
"you left three hours ago lee. what do you really want?" you questioned with a smile, knowing her all too well. "so there's this campaign i'm doing with some of the england girls-" leah started as you hummed that you were listening along.
"-and i'm going to do something for it. ive made up my mind and i don't want you try and talk me out of it, okay?" your girlfriend continued firmly as you hummed again in agreeance, eyebrows knitting into a suspicious frown. "okay."
"i'm cutting a fringe. well, bangs? i dunno the technical term. but i'm doing it!" leah stated as you winced. "just for the campaign? baby..." you started, hesitation clear in your voice.
"i told you love, my mind is made up." "leah is this really the best idea." "yes! it's just hair babe, it grows back." "well yeah but fringes, bangs, whatever, they take time to get used to. don't you want to think this over a little?" "i have! i had a fringe in the picture they're using so it makes sense to cut one, fully commit you know."
"leah-" you started again, the blonde cutting you off saying she was being called back to set. "i love you and i'll see you at home my pretty girl. mwah!" and with an air kiss blown she'd hung up.
with a sigh you very carefully placed your phone on the coffee table, eliminating the possibility of losing it again as you shook your head. you'd always loved how spontaneous leah could be, the blonde whisking you out on surprise picnics, dinners, dates.
but the impulsive last minute weekends away were a little different than a spontaneous decision to cut her hair. though you suppose you should be grateful it was a hair cut and not a tattoo, not that that was something you'd put past the older girl.
"only me!" you heard the front door slam shut as you looked up from the pile of laundry you were currently sorting through, dropping the hoodie in your hands you vowed to return to finish this later. you really didn't have much of a choice given the clothes were scattered all over the bed you'd need to sleep in tonight.
"welcome hom- oo you brought pizza!" you realised happily, spotting the boxes in her hands right as leah dropped them on the counter, skidding to a stop in front of them. "god i love you." you sighed happily, flipping open the first box and inhaling the godly smell.
"excuse me!" leah cleared her throat, offended that your shared dinner was currently getting more of your attention than she was. "sorry baby. hello!" you turned to her with a smile, pecking her lips a few times and turning back to the food.
"oi! sexy girlfriend with a new haircut is feeling neglected and under appreciated here." leah huffed again as you reached for a slice of pizza, spinning back to face her with wide eyes. "oh yeah! sorry my love." you apologized with a sheepish smile, actually focusing on her now.
"do you like it?" leah wondered as you tucked a strand behind her ear, staring at her as always awestruck by her beauty, forever in disbelief she was your girlfriend. "i love it baby, it really suits you." you beamed, eyes scanning over the way her fringe framed her face.
"it's longer than i thought though." you added, hands cupping her cheeks and gently turning her face side to side. "can you tie it back?" you questioned, tangling your hands in her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
"not yet, but it grows fast." leah shrugged, pulling you back into her for another kiss and you hummed. "what was that for?" the blonde frowned at your small noise. "what? i didn't say anything." you laughed, leaning up to kiss her but she craned her neck away.
"no. your little hmm, i know that tone missy!" leah warned making you roll your eyes. "it doesn't mean anything. i love it leah, honestly i'm in disbelief that you could somehow get more beautiful but here you are proving me wrong." you smiled charmingly, again leaning up to kiss her but she pulled away again.
"hey! kiss me." you smacked her chest lightly with an unimpressed scowl. "tell me what you really think." leah spoke with a huff, grabbing your hands in hers and staring you down.
"i wasn't lying, i really do think it suits you baby and you look beautiful."
"but?"
“but i think after a few days the not being able to tie it back is going to get on your nerves." you smiled apologetically and honestly.
"it won't! i can tuck it behind my ears, see?" she dropped your hands and showed you as you nodded. "you asked and i answered lee, i'm not trying to get into a debate about it with you." you chuckled at her stubbornness, turning away from her.
"i thought you wanted a kiss?" your girlfriend seemingly returned to her normal self, giving you a boyish grin and raising her eyebrows. "mmm i did but you decided to play twenty questions and now i want pizza." you teased, hauling yourself up onto the counter.
leah moved between your legs, dropping her bag on the floor as her hands played with the hem of your shorts. though before she could say another word your stomach interrupted, growling loudly and hungrily.
"told you i wanted pizza." you grinned, biting down happily on the slice in your hand. "such a gremlin." leah shook her head, grabbing your wrist and stealing a bite of your slice.
"oh please you love me."
“far too much for my own good i'm afraid baby girl."
~
and sure enough, your words were proven true just two days after you'd spoke them.
you awoke to the sound of groaning, sitting up tiredly and rubbing your face as you spotted leahs back to you, the girl hunched over in your ensuite.
"babe what's wrong?" you yawned, stretching and settling back against the headboard. "it's such a pain in my ass!" leah groaned loudly again and you managed an amused smile as she slumped down on the bathroom counter resting her head on her arms.
"leah what are you on about?" you chuckled, now a little more awake as the blonde stood and marched back into the bedroom. "it's killing me!" the defender moaned loudly, collapsing onto the bed dramatically with a sigh.
"what is?" you laughed, poking at her as she sat up with a huff. "look!" she gestured to her fringe which was sticking out at all sorts of awkward angles. "it won't sit right." leah growled, trying to style it with her fingers as you grinned.
"don't say it." "i'm gonna say it." "please don't say it!" "well now i have to say it."
"baby!" leah whined, smacking the bed with her hand and pouting at you. "i was right, i told you it would annoy you that you couldn't tie it back." you grinned happily, leah groaning even louder and once more dramatically flopping back into bed.
"i hate it when you're right." she mumbled into her pillow as you gently massaged the back of her neck with a smile. "thats because you're an aries." you chuckled as she turned her head to fix you with a scowl.
"now is not the time for your biased zodiac bullshit. i need help! i have training." leah whined, kicking her legs like a disgruntled toddler and settling with a huff. "help me." she pouted up at you as you shook your head, kissing away at her lips for a moment.
"come on." you chuckled, swinging yourself out of bed and offering her a hand up. "you're such a baby." you laughed, bending down and grabbing her hands, hauling her taller body up with a huff as she collapsed into you. "am not." she mumbled into your shoulder.
"leah!" you laughed again as she sagged her full body weight into you, dragging her with you to the bathroom with some struggle. "sit down." you pushed her to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.
"needy." you teased as her fingers gripped your hips and she pouted again, tapping her lips expectantly as you peppered them with gentle kisses.
"you just need to style it, we can go back to the salon and get the right products but this will have to do for now." you rummaged through your side of the vanity, pulling out a few things.
within a few minutes you'd gotten her fringe to sit not too differently to how they had the day she'd got them cut, gesturing for her to look in the mirror. "oh you're a miracle worker." leah sighed in relief as you hummed, reaching past her to put the products back.
"i love you. so so so much!" leah grabbed you suddenly, dipping your body as you squealed and she attacked your face with kisses. "okay okay! let me up romeo." you pushed at her shoulders, quite worried she'd drop you as she twirled you, spinning your body into hers with a wolfish grin.
"okay princess charming go and get ready for training!" you smiled with a shake of your head. "mm wanna save some water with me? it's good for the environment baby." leah suggested, gripping onto you tighter.
"would you like breakfast before you leave?" you challenged with a raise of your eyebrows. "because a hangry grumpy leah williamson isn't good for the environment either, i think i'm doing your team a favor making sure you're fed." you teased, pinching her sides as her hands moved to squeeze your bum, leah stealing the breath from your lungs with a searing kiss before she let you go.
"to the kitchen with you then woman!" she shooed you off as you gave her a look, hands on hips. "i mean please make me some food gorgeous?" she tried again with a charming smile as you hummed, leaving her behind to get ready.
she returned around twenty minutes later, kissing your cheek in thanks as she stole a piece of bacon off your plate as if she didn't already have a pile on hers. "hey! that is not how i styled them." you finally took her in as she sat on the island with her plate, fringe pushed back with a thick black headband.
"yeah but this way they're out of my face for when i run! and it looks sexy, no?" leah smirked, shoveling a mouthful of eggs into her mouth as you grimaced, forever warning her to taste her food and not to just inhale it, worried sometimes she'd choke.
"maybe if i harbored some deeply rooted secret affliction for ralph macchio. you look ridiculous!" you shook your head, flipping your omelette.
"ridiculously good looking baby." leah winked, having already nearly finished her plate of food and eyeing off your bacon.
"i don't know where you put it sometimes." you rolled your eyes and handed her your plate as she kissed your hand in thanks. "i burn it off with all my hardcore training, obviously!" leah retorted with a mouthful of food and you grimaced at her in disgust.
"see this is what your mum and i mean when we say sometimes we think you're possessed by a teenage boy." you rolled your eyes, dropping your omelette onto your place and smothering it with tomato sauce.
"leah!" you scowled as she burped loudly. "proving my point here." you pointed your fork at her menacingly as she shrugged. "you're the one whose hopelessly in love with me, sounds like a personal issue." she pushed your head to the side as she dumped her plate in the sink.
"go away already would you? i have five blissful hours of peace and quiet on the agenda that you're interrupting." you sighed happily, taking her seat at the counter as leah now rolled her eyes, grabbing her slides from by the door and shoving them into her gym bag.
"you're such a delight in the mornings. charming as ever darling!" leah chuckled with a shake of her head. "had you not been up before me moaning and groaning about your hair i'd have been the one dealing with you being a delight and refusing to get up thanks." you warned, swallowing a mouthful and offering some to leah who grimaced at the vegetables present.
"too many colours for me." she joked, pushing your outstretched fork back toward your own mouth. "sorry i forgot not only are you possessed by a teenage boy you've got the flavour pallet and patience of a toddler." you added on.
"excuse me what is it pick on leah morning? and you say i'm a bully!" the blonde scoffed in disbelief, hugging you from behind and slumping her body into yours. "i don't say you're a bully you're just incredibly annoying like...eighty percent of the time. other than that you're very sweet!" you grinned, squirming as she exhaled unhappily into your neck.
"ow! leah." you yelped as she suddenly bit your shoulder, and not in the way you normally enjoyed. "its how i show my love, since i'm so annoying." she grumbled, doing it again as you pushed your back into her sending her stumbling back.
"sorry love i didn't realise you were so sensative." you craned your head back to pout up at her sarcastically. "the sarcasm is not missed and not appreciated young lady." the blonde retorted, kissing you none the less.
"i am six months younger than you, nanna!" "key word being...younger?" "sorry i'll be sure to start telling everyone my girlfriends a cougar." "mm i prefer milf personally." "secret child you're not telling me about then?" "yeah hundreds of them." "god an army of tiny williamsons? think i've seen that before in a nightmare!"
"ah! no biting." you yelled, smacking her as she bit you again, though this time not as hard. "hardly call you a milf when you are such a child yourself." you huffed, rubbing at your shoulder where there was a perfectly indented teeth mark.
"can't blame me with this attitude you're showing me woman, you normally don't mind a few cheeky marks." leah gently kissed over it with a wink as you flicked her forehead and pushed her away from you.
"go brush your teeth milf, and fix that hair!" you shoved her away again as she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, mocking your words and jogging back upstairs.
"i'll see you later then babe, try not to miss me too much." returning downstairs after she'd brushed her teeth she gave you a minty kiss goodbye, grabbing her bag off the table where she'd left it.
"leah." you called after her as she raised an eyebrow, hand on the doorknob. "forgetting something?" you questioned, an amused smile on your lips. "no?" your girlfriend frowned in confusion. "so how are you getting to training then?" you asked again as her frown deepened.
"oh." she realised, face blushing bright red and darting to grab her car keys from the bowl in the kitchen. "told you we need to get some hooks for them." you mumbled against her lips with a smile as she kissed you in thanks.
"i'll grab some on my way home, just text me if we need anything else."
"try not to hurt anyone today, karate kid." you teased, waving her goodbye as she made some sort of strange war cry noise, kicking out her leg and catching the hallway table, sending a few things crashing to the floor and a long string of curse words into the air as she hopped around clutching her foot.
before she could even speak her phone pinged in her hand. "did you just text me to replace what fell down and broke?" leah sighed knowingly, adjusting her bag on the shoulder.
"you told me to if we needed anything." you grinned, the blonde unable to argue as she blew you a kiss and with a loud mwah, the door slammed and she was gone.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 10 days
Text
You and Eddie are trapped in the drama club after school in the middle of a thunderstorm. Feelings ensue.
I was going to post this tomorrow but I'm feeling kinda crappy so am posting it now ♥️ this is enemies to oh my god I'm falling for you fic.
💞
Hawkins was in the middle of the worst storm it had seen in years. The rain hadn't stopped since this morning and you could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.
All in all you wished you were tucked up at home right now instead of making your way to the drama room.
You weren't sure what possessed you to even bother going to find Eddie. Surely you had seen enough of him today that avoiding him would be a no brainer.
Eddie had been your enemy from the day the two of you first met. You met him at a talent show in middle school and were performing with your fellow cheerleaders, Eddie was performing with his band Corroded Coffin and the two of you met backstage and well sparks flew and not in a good way.
He looked different then. A buzz cut and a little less dramatic but still the same smug smile and condescending tone. That meeting kick-started the war between the two of you.
Except his stupid little barb aimed at you had been playing on your mind all day. He loved irritating you and spent a good portion doing it earlier.
Even worse he had left his metal lunchbox at your shared table in Mrs O'Donnell's class and you weren't carrying that monstrosity around all weekend.
So you decided to show up at Hellfire, straight after cheer practice to return the item. You don't want to spend any more time with Eddie than necessary so you'll make this quick.
You can hear him setting up for Hellfire and muttering to himself. Taking a deep breath you head inside the drama room and he peers up at you, irritation on his face.
"Princess to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He says with a hint of derision in his tone and you hurry over to place the lunchbox on the table. Now you could get far far away from the asshat as possible.
"You left this at our table Munson" his face softens into relief as he picks up the metal lunch then he scowls.
"You can go now" he motions to the door and you feel a flicker of annoyance. Couldn't he thank you for returning it at least?
"Could you at least have some manners" you huff and he smirks as he sets up one of the figures in his campaign.
"Thank you for returning it princess, now go away" he returns back to positioning the figures and you growl under your breath. He's still smiling and you're distracted for a split second at the tattoos on his arm, the bats. You've never seen them this close before and a part of you wants to reach out and touch one of them.
Wait...what the fuck? You really needed to get away from Munson, you could never think straight around him. He made you muddled at times.
"You know you really should see someone about your anger issues around me sweetheart" he suggests with a smirk and you gawk at him.
"What! You're the one who is constantly pissing me off. I swear you get some sick joy out of it" there's a faint crackling of a radio and Eddie picks up a walkie talkie completely ignoring what you said.
"Eddie, we can't get out. I'm with Mike and Lucas and Mrs Wheeler has put her foot down. She says the storm is too bad for driving" Eddie grumbles and swears under his breath.
"Henderson it's not even that bad" at that point there's a huge clap of thunder that makes you jump. It's not like you hate storms, you like them well enough but you'd prefer to be at home and cosy.
Preferably not with Munson either. You raise your eyebrow at him and he meets your gaze giving you one half of his devil sign.
Okay, you've had enough now and storm away from him, the wind whips at your hair but you don't care. You'll walk home, it won't take that long.
"Bye bye princess" Eddie waves at you from the drama door and you resist the urge to flip him the bird. Rise about it... Rise about it. Don't tell him to kiss your ass...
You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you almost miss the tree you're sheltering under jerk violently in the wind and one of its roots rips off. It's massive.
There's a split second of silence, you freeze and fear pounds in your chest and you're sure that the tree root will crush you but just at the last minute you're knocked out of the way.
You and Eddie crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He's breathing hard and his arms are wrapped around you tightly. "Shit, you okay?"
There's a ringing in your ears and you're shaking but manage to calm down enough that Eddie helps you up. "Yeah, I'm okay" you shiver as the rain water has drenched your clothes and there's a stinging sensation on your arm.
"I need to patch that cut up princess, there should be a first aid kit somewhere in the drama room" he leads you inside and the both of you don't notice the door shut tightly. Usually it's propped open with something but in your haste to get back inside the item is disregarded.
Eddie is too focused on you to notice, worry etches his features. He leaves briefly and comes back with a first aid kit.
He's quiet as he patches up the cut on your arm and you access him for injuries, "Are you okay Eddie?" It's maybe the first time you've called him Eddie and not Munson or dumbass.
"I'm okay, he speaks in a soothing tone and that relaxes you as he looks over your body for any injuries. There's a faint cut on your knee and Eddie kneels down to patch that up as well.
He hesitates for a second then gently cleans the cut, his fingers on your skin do funny things to your stomach. A shiver (a good one) runs down your spine.
Eddie's pretty brown eyes don't help the fluttering in your stomach. Fuck.
♥️
Eddie tries to pry the door open once he notices it's shut fully. The two of you are going to try and at least get to his van, he had offered to drive you home. Which was nice of him. He had been nicer than you ever thought he could be today.
"Ahh shit, Eddie curses and he manages to get the door open but it shuts again right away with the force of the wind.
"We should wait until that calms down" you suggest and he nods in trepidation. It's getting quite late and the sky is darkening even more. The storm hasn't abated yet... The wind is still fierce and the rain is coming down albeit a little less than before but it's still bad.
You're still shivery and curse the thin fabric of your cheer uniform. Eddie nudges your shoulder and you notice that he's slipped his leather jacket over to you.
"Thanks" you murmur and he nods tightly, his legs jittery as he waits for the storm to pass.
"Um so is the band good?" You nod to his discarded denim vest and the band Dio on the back of it. Eddie smiles and nods. "Mmm yeah, don't think it would be your type of thing princess"
"I went to see Black Sabbath with my cousin Jamie. He's like a massive fan of Ozzy Osbourne, it wasn't too bad" Eddie's jaw drops and his eyes are wide as he gazes at you.
"I know I'm just full of surprises aren't I Munson?" you tease and he's still speechless.
"You saw the god that is Ozzy Osbourne?" you shrug and feel flustered under his awed gaze. It's making you feel all tingly. Something that has happened more and more around Eddie.
"I never thought I'd see the day that you were speechless Eddie Munson" you smirk then wince as a particular loud boom of thunder startles you.
You wrap Eddie's jacket around you and nuzzle into it. It smells faintly of weed and cigarettes but also whatever cologne Eddie wears, it's nice and it comforts you.
"I might be able to get some pillows and shit from the staff room, I don't know how long we will have to wait, we might need to stay here for the night or until the storm fades a bit" Eddie says and gets up.
You notice he has to keep moving and busy. It must be so he doesn't freak out. The storm is worse than either of you thought it was.
"How are you going to do that? It will be locked wouldn't it?" He grins and doesn't seem to be perturbed by this in the slightest.
"The nurses office could have blankets too. We should go there" you tell him and he nods then frowns.
"You should stay here princess. I will probably need to break in and well...everyone expects the freak to get into shit don't they, not Hawkins good girl" you scoff but feel sympathy that people think so badly of him.
It wasn't like you thought he was an asshole all the time, he definitely had his moments of being sweet...
"You need my help to get blankets if the nurse has some and the pillows. Snacks too possibly and I'm the only one with a bag and cash on me" he thinks about this then nods in agreement.
Somehow you and Eddie manage to wrangle a big blanket from the nurses office and cushions from the sofa in the teachers lounge. Also a few snacks to last the night. Eddie gulps his yoo hoo down before the two of you even get back to the drama room.
You try to make a somewhat makeshift bed on the floor with the cushions and blanket. Just in case.
Eddie is still restless but calms down when you get up to look over the campaign. There's a Dungeons and Dragons handbook on the table and a notebook that looks like it's full of Eddie's own notes.
He points out the different figures and you listen interested in the complexity of the game and take a seat on the throne like chair. "That's my spot" Eddie frowns and you settle back grinning.
"I like this spot" you beam and he shakes his head exasperated.
"Alright, looks like you're the dungeon master for the night princess" you smirk at this and turn to Eddie.
"Does that mean I can tell you what to do?" He chuckles, and shakes his head.
"That's not what a Dungeon Master is, I organise the campaign, weave the challenges the rest of the team face, shit like that. I love it" you pout at his explanation and Eddie gazes at your lips for a few seconds. Enough for your heart to skip a beat.
"Um what's a Demogorgon?" You ask feeling nervous all of a sudden and Eddie explains what it is but that funny tension is still in the air.
Even with the wind whistling outside you and Eddie don't notice. Bickering and far too wrapped up in each other to notice.
🖤
At some point near ten you feel your eyes begin to get heavy and stifle a yawn. You try to fight the feeling but one minute Eddie is talking to you and the next your head drops on his shoulder.
When Eddie wakes up you're still fast asleep on his shoulder and it makes his heart race. It feels so...right being with you like this.
It's six am according to the clock on the wall above the door. It surprised him that he slept so well but he thinks it has a little something to do with you.
Gently he tucks a strand of hair away from your face, feels the softness of your skin and a pit of longing forms in his stomach.
Fuck, he really wants you.
The storm has calmed down and he finds that he's disappointed. He's enjoyed speaking to you, more than he ever thought possible. What did that mean?
You wake up while he's pondering this. It's still dark out and now the storm has all but disappeared. Eddie feels cold when you shift from his shoulder, looking away shyly.
"Sorry, I didn't realise" you murmured and his fingers graze over yours.
"You don't have to apologise sweetheart, it was nice princess" a soft silence lingers over the two of you and you sigh.
"The weather seems to have cleared up" there's a wistful tone to your voice. Eddie wonders if you're as disappointed as him that you're free to leave.
"I had a really great time with you" you turn to him and he smiles pleased.
"You're not so bad yourself" he nudges you gently and he leans close to you, instinctively you mimic his movements. The two of you are so close now, sparks flying and the longing growing even more.
His lips are centimetres from yours and there's only a tiny gap, you're eager to close the distance. Just as your lips touch the door bangs open and Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Steve rush in.
You and Eddie wrench apart. "Eddie dude, what the hell happened?" Dustin gawks at you and you hurry over to where Steve is feeling flustered as hell.
Eddie's eyes meet yours while Dustin is talking to him and you realise that maybe Eddie hasn't been your enemy for a long time and something else has been brewing between you two all along.
...
💞
...
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astrophileous · 7 months
Note
ZAHRA I DEMAND (request) A PART TWO OF JEALOUS REID I AM BEGGINGGGGG 🧎‍♀️😩🙏 I am actually in love with the way you write spencer like MY GAWD. MY GAWD.
your request (demand) shall be my command, your majesty 🙏
Warning(s): gn!reader, more jealous spencer bcs apparently it wasn't enough in the first one, a cheesy narration abt "change" 🤢🤢🤢 bcs why not.
This is part two for this blurb.
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
If there was one thing Spencer Reid always found peculiar about mankind, it would be the general lack of acceptance when it came to change.
Before today, Spencer never understood the science behind metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Unpredicted and terrifying as it was, change was necessary to keep the ubiquitous balance of the universe. Change existed in the smallest and biggest capacity of the world, and Spencer, for the life of him, had never been able to berate change for doing exactly what it was intended to do.
Until now.
As Spencer stood next to the copy machine just a few feet away from the kitchenette, eavesdropping a discussion he had no business injecting himself into, Spencer finally understood why many people in the world feared change. The noises coming from the machine in front of him were tumultuous, but Spencer craned his neck and ears to the best of his capabilities just so he could listen in better to the conversation.
"JJ," Spencer heard you say, "I'm telling you, I'm not interested."
"I haven't even told you anything about him yet!"
"Jennifer, it's not about the guy. I'm sure your friend is lovely, but I'm just... not looking for anything like that right now."
"C'mon, (Y/N)," JJ nearly whined. "Please, please, please, just think about this? How long has it been since you broke up with that Bran guy, anyway? You've been single for a while now, don't you think it's finally time for a change?"
Change.
The word tasted bitter as Spencer felt it burn all the way down his throat.
There was a beat of pause where Spencer's heart thundered inside its crate; reeling in suspense over what your answer was going to be. He heard your sigh before your voice arose once more, "Fine. Just text me his number and I'll handle the rest myself, okay?"
Spencer tuned everything out after that, safe for JJ's elated squeal that echoed nearly halfway through the bullpen.
The rest of the day unraveled like a tedious nightmare. After collecting his belongings, Spencer headed out of the bullpen with his car keys in hand. He was waiting for the elevator to arrive, internally cursing his decision for having driven to work that morning, when an unfamiliar voice suddenly appeared behind him.
"You're still here, Doctor?"
Spencer turned around to see you approaching from the direction of Penelope's office. The smile on your face reminded him of cotton candy: soft and sweet; just like the scent of your perfume as it engulfed Spencer's whole being.
"I thought you already left," Spencer muttered.
"No, I had things to take care of. How about you?"
"Yeah. Same."
The elevator arrived with a ding. You walked in after him and pressed the button for the lobby, your scent attacking Spencer's senses even more ruthlessly within the tiny metal box.
"You have any plans for the weekend, Doc?" you asked once the elevator started going down. "A hot date, perhaps?"
Spencer loathed the view of your cheeky smile, along with the teasing gesture of your eyebrows at the suggestion of him going on a date with another person. Here he was, propelling himself to the brink of insanity over the idea of you being on a date with anyone else but him, and you didn't even bat an eye at the prospect of Spencer being with someone else.
"No hot dates for me," he responded. The elevator opened with another ding. "Can't say the same about you, though, can I?"
Your inquisitive gaze slid his way.
"I heard you and JJ in the pantry." Spencer opened the lobby doors, allowing you to walk through before falling into step beside you again. "So, are you going?"
"On the date? I honestly don't know." The night breeze blew against your face. Spencer shuffled closer when he noticed your subtle shiver. "I haven't even texted him yet. I don't feel like it, to be honest. But JJ just seemed so excited about it, so the least I could do is try talking to him first, right?"
An interim silence settled between the two of you. Before long, Spencer spotted his Volvo being parked a few paces ahead. "This is me." Spencer gestured to the car.
"Nice ride." You smiled, humming appreciatively at the vehicle. "Well, I'll get going, then. See you Monday, Doc. Drive safe."
Spencer watched as you started to saunter away. A familiar flame had begun raging and licking up his spine since the moment you mentioned the phrase a hot date in Spencer's face, and now, he could feel that same flame taking a hold of the beating organ inside his chest.
"Don't do it."
You stopped in your tracks.
It took Spencer a few seconds to realize that the interruption had come from him.
"Don't text that guy."
You spun around fully to face him. "Why not?"
"Because I don't think you should go out with him."
You looked at Spencer strangely. "You don't even know the guy."
"I don't need to. I just—" Spencer's jaw hardened, "—I need you to swear to me. Please. Swear you won't go on the date."
Your forehead creased in confusion.
You knew what Spencer was saying didn't make sense, but what perplexed you even more were the words that came out of your mouth next, "Okay. I won't go on the date."
Spencer breathed out his relief as if you just granted him fresh air after years of being buried underground. He gripped his satchel tighter and fiddled with the strap, giving you a curt nod before he slipped inside the driver's seat of his car.
Spencer drove away after that, leaving you standing alone in the middle of Quantico's deserted parking lot as you stared feebly at the tire marks on the ground. A foreign fire had suddenly flickered inside your chest, and even if you didn't understand the significance of it yet, you knew that it must've had something to do with a specific genius profiler who just demanded you to back out of a date that hadn't even been planned yet.
After casting one last look towards his speeding Volvo in the distance, you turned around and headed for your own car, feeling the fire in your ribcage burn brighter with every single one of your steps.
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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 months
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Back to December
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Summary: When you arrive home, you're confronted with what you feared to be true. Tommy reassured you it couldn't be, it'd never be again but how can he deny you of what you witnessed with your own eyes. What could he do, when his wife won't come to an understanding that he would never put his family at risk like that and it was all a misunderstanding.
Warnings: mentions of infidelity, a lot of shitting on Grace, happy ending
Loosely based off "Back to December" by Taylor Swift
I'm so glad you made time to see me How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while
The snow was coming down in heavy spurts outside, as the wind blustered throughout the air. You were sat at your kitchen table at your new temporary apartment watching the storm through the window as you sipped on your tea awaiting for Thomas to arrive to sign the papers.
December had passed, and now it was a new year, lonesome for you to say the least as you were trying to adjust to your new life on your own. The children were on rotating weekends with the both of you so it would be even, but you were sure they were having a hard time understanding why their mom and dad were no longer in the same house together. This weekend was Thomas’s and he had arranged for Polly to watch the children until this meeting was over which you were hoping would be sooner rather than later.
Seeing Thomas pull into your driveway, you poured another cup of hot tea and placed it on the opposite end of the table. Hearing him knock at the door you didn’t bother to get up and waste your energy for him so you shouted for him that it was open.
When he walked in, he was wearing a navy blue suit, a black trench coat draped over his shoulders. He had bags and dark circles under his baby blue eyes, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
When he entered the kitchen to where you were, with the papers sitting out with a pen he looked defeated. He couldn’t help but take in your beauty as your hair flowed freely and the sweater you were wearing fit your body snuggly while your feet were covered in fuzzy socks.
“You look lovely.” You nodded to yourself without thanking him and extended your hand for him to take his seat across from you.
“How’s your family been? I sent them a gift for the holidays, did you get my card?” Crossing your arms insecurely, you felt yourself begin to curl in on yourself as you brought your knees closer to your chest. Tommy believed this could be fixed, but you wanted him out of your life for good and it agitated you that he was still going at all lengths to win you back, and to make things worse every one in your family was telling you to go back, and didn’t understand why you would leave a man who cares for you very deeply and treated you well. You felt alone, no one was on your side. Your mother continuously told you to forgive him, your sister would make comments about how stupid you were for wanting to leave such a handsome, charming man that had money.
“Yes, Thomas I got it.” He winced to himself quietly. Ever since everything happened, you wouldn’t call him Tommy, you wouldn't call him the sweet nicknames you usually did. It made him feel like a stranger to you now, not of importance.
Your guard is up and I know why
Because the last time you saw me Is still burned in the back of your mind You gave me roses and I left them there to die
Tommy watched you painfully, your guard was up and he understood why, he was the reason. If he had just not let her into the house, everything would be okay, you marriage would still be in tact. It’d be wrong of him to not take the blame for this, his words meant nothing to you, and he wished they had. All of Birmingham knew of his relationship with Grace, she had always been a heavy weight on your shoulders, more-so because she had appeared in town again and Tommy told you there was nothing to worry about, and you had believed him. He took a sip of his tea, trying to find words to make you understand his point of view.
“I know what I’m here for, but I’m not signing our love away until you hear me out, please.” You scoffed in response and pushed the papers closer to him. He still didn’t pick up the pen.
Tommy didn’t understand, he’d never understand. From what you’ve heard around town and from fellow acquaintances of his, he was always the heartbreaker. You had just thought that you would have been the one that mattered to him, you thought that he was different than the rest and he just wasn’t given love, or affection as he should have been. The five years you had been married you never would’ve expected you’d be sitting across from Thomas in this situation.
“I’m going to turn the heat up, and start another pot of tea if you’d fancy more.” Tommy nodded as you walked off.
Entering the family room, you glanced at the roses he had, had delivered to you after that dreadful day. You didn’t want to start over, you didn’t want to move past Thomas but the image of that day still burned in the back of your mind.
~ Your pov ~
Pulling into the driveway, I had just finished an outing with Ada and I was exhausted, the girl could shop fo days. It was very generous of her to offer to watch the kids for the night, after all they had been missing their auntie. I was hoping Frances already had dinner made because it was an understatement to say I was starving.
Opening the door, I froze in my tracks. I was blinded by what I thought was impossible, by what he promised me was not going to happen.
I stood there watching as my husband’s lips intertwined with Grace’s, her arms wrapped around his masculine body that I thought was mine.
Who was I kidding? Grace was beautiful, and she was everything I could never be for Thomas. I lacked natural beauty, elegancy, and just simple etiquette at times. I could never compete.
He looked at me with panicked eyes when he pushed her off of him. I now knew where I stood, second place as usual. I didn’t need to say anything to make up my mind as I dropped my possessions to the ground and exited the house, I once called home.
Stupidity, and shame flooded over me, and I refuse to give Thomas the power to try to con me into staying but I couldn’t stop myself from turning and screaming at him.
There he stood having the audacity to look at me doe eyed, acting like he was scared to lose me. I should’ve listened to everyone who told me he would never be over her. He didn’t chase after me when I backed out of the driveway in tears while my body was trying to decide if it felt more sad or angry.
~
So this is me swallowin' my pride Standin' in front of you, sayin' I'm sorry for that night And I go back to December all the time
Returning to the kitchen, you opened your book and impatiently waited for him to sign and get out. Thomas took that as a sign you would not be hearing him out, so he decided to take matters into his own hands per usual. Grabbing the book from your soft hands, he slammed it closed, and tossed it to the side. “Y/N. I am telling you. I did not fucking kiss her. She kissed me and-“
“So that makes it okay that she was in our fucking home, does it? What difference does it make? Why was she in my fucking house Thomas! Why did-“ Thomas stood up out of frustration, pointing at your front door.
“She let herself in! I was upstairs, gathering laundry from the childrens rooms for Frances! When I heard the door fucking open, I grabbed my fucking gun and went downstairs and was blindsided with her in our fucking house! I tried kicking her out, and when you pulled in, she fucking kissed me when she heard your fucking car door close!” When he noticed, you were beginning to cry, he patted his suit down and took his seat once more, now feeling bad for yelling at you. He let you have a moment, he would’ve tried to soothe you, but he didn’t as he thought that would make things worse. When you were calm, he spoke once more.
“I’m truly sorry Y/N for that evening. I wish you had been there before she was, so you’d believe in me that I’m not lying to you.” You scoffed, in disbelief that he still would not confess.
“Thomas just sign the papers, please.” He hesitated before moving, contemplating in all the ways he could have handled this better. Slowly, he picked up the pen and begrudgingly signed on the dotted line. He slid the papers over to you slowly, and gently and you couldn’t help but notice his fingers shaking. “Thank you.” He nodded unwilling full. He removed himself from your house, when he tried to hug you goodbye you stayed in your tracks, looking away from him. He understood and excused himself.
~
Tommy’s pov
~
“What the fuck do you want Grace.” Slowly she approached him with lustful eyes. “You know what I want Thomas. I want to pick up where we left off my love.” She placed her hand on my cheek, and I felt nothing.
Grace was a chapter in my life, that had now closed, and I didn’t intend on extending it. I grabbed her wrist, throwing it to the side and pointed directly at her.
“No, no. You don’t get to fucking do that, what gives you the fucking right, eh? You were the one who lied to me, spied on me. That wasn’t love Grace. I’m happily married and I’m beyond grateful it’s not to you.” The sound of a car door closing outside caught both of our attention.
My wife was home.
My love.
Panic set in as my jaw clenched, I felt stupid for not kicking her out, but what was I supposed to do? Aim a gun at her.
I knew how Y/N felt about Grace, and I had told her everything about our relationship in the past. Now here I am, standing in my own god damn living room in my own bloody god damn mess. I was hoping to have her out by the time she had arrived back home.
“Grace, you need to-“ Before I could finish my sentence, Grace’s hands were on both my arms, pulling me closer as her lips clashed into mine.
“Honey I’m-" At that moment, I heard the door to our house close and pushed the conniving whore off of me, but I watched as the smile on Y/N’s face dropped in an instant.
Now here I was standing in a living room, looking like a complete ass. “Y/N, honey. It’s not what it looks like I-“ She hadn’t let me finish.
She shook her head in disbelief and dropped everything in her hands onto the floor, before exiting the house. I ran outside after her, and I didn’t look back to see if Grace had followed.
“Y/N! I-“ She had turned around quickly and strikes me across my face. That’s when I knew, I was going to lose the love of my life.
“5 years! 5 years and none of it mattered! Our beautiful children! The house we bought together! All over what! Huh!? Some irish whore who didn’t give a fuck about you until she had your money, and then moved onto the next!” I stayed quiet and I could feel my eyes begin to swell with water, as my body trembled. I followed her eyes that were staring a deathly hole into Grace and looked back to my heartbroken wife.
I would never put my marriage or my kids in the jeopardy of driving them away. If it weren’t for Y/N and our kids, I’m not sure my life would have any meaning. Whatever I said, no matter the truth or a lie I knew it would mean nothing to my sweet Y/N and I watched as she got into her car, driving away from me and our fortress we built together.
~
The drive home, Thomas cried. He had lost everything, once again Grace wins. He had his brothers take care of getting her out of town and they had threatened her if they see her again they will not hesitate to put a bullet through her head for ruining Thomas’s happiness after it took him so long to move on from her.
When Polly dropped the children off it was late which Thomas was partially grateful for because he was mentally drained. He thanked Polly and tucked the three of them into bed, kissing them on the forehead endearingly.
Walking into his room, he looked at the clothes you left behind that were scattered throughout the room. It had become routine for Tommy to sleep with what he had left of you, a different article of clothing every night. He took his place in bed and layed down, clutching his pillow and the sweater he had bought you in his arms, breathing in what was left of your scent.
When he went to sleep that night, he had slept in a bed of tears, once again. The only thing that brought him comfort was that you allowed him to take care of your children and to see them still. He just wished he handled the situation in a better manner, and he wouldn't have lost you.
Maybe this is wishful thinkin' Probably mindless dreamin' But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't
-
The next morning, you were dressed and ready to go turn in the papers. The brisk air of winter sent shivers down your spine as you were approaching the door to the courts clerk office. You were stopped in your tracks once Junie, yours and Thomas’s neighbor saw you. She was a sweet old lady, that you had been bringing meals to for quite some time so that she didn’t have to cook.
“Y/N! How are you? I heard about Thomas, such a shame Grace came back, no one really cared for her around here.” You nodded, shifting your lip awkwardly. This wasn’t exactly something you wanted to be chatting about. “I’ve been better.”
“She was always very importuning and demanding of Thomas, can’t believe she thought she could try again with him and succeed.” You thought to yourself what she could mean. “I’m sorry?”
“Oh, you know an old woman like me not having much to do, I eavesdrop sometimes. I saw that little twat make her move on your husband through the window. Speaking of, I haven’t seen you there recently Y/N, is everything alright.” The truth came crashing down on you like a wrecking ball. Your mouth subtly dropped as your eyebrows etched together in disbelief. Thomas was telling the truth. He didn’t lie to you. “Ugh- Miss Junie I think I need to be going. I- I will stop by later this week alright?” Without hearing her response you were rushing back to your car.
-
Tommy awoke to the kids bouncing up and down on the bed and he turned to look at you only to forget you aren’t there anymore. “Daddy! Daddy! Ada’s here! Can we go over to her house!” Thomas brushed at his drooping eyelids, still squinting from the morning light. “I- yeah of course you guys can.” Ada appeared in the door frame, and the kids rushed passed her to go get changed. “I figured i’d give you the morning. Take a shower brother. You can’t be in this slump forever. If not for yourself for them. They need their father. They love you y’know.” Tommy nodded and thanked her before sliding the blanket back over his head.
You glanced at the odometer as you were approaching 70 mph, swiftly avoiding the potholes or any bad ice patches. You felt like a terrible wife, shameful and guilty for not believing him your dear Tommy. You just hoped it wasn't too late.
-
Freshly showered and clothed. He headed downstairs and noticed Ada had left a note informing him of what time she would have them back by. He was grateful for Ada and Pol, always willing to help him out. He took a seat in the kitchen where Frances had cooked him a warm, hearty breakfast. He thanked her and placed his glasses on before opening the paper.
Before he could take a bite of his food Tommy heard a car sprint into his driveway, and he removed his glasses, and was standing up running to the window within seconds, gun ready at the side.
All movement in him stopped, time froze when he saw you in the drivers seat, quickly opening the door before running to the front of the house and hearing you bang on the door aggressively.
When he opened the door, he was worried something was wrong, you couldn’t have changed your mind. He took in your out of breath state, and your tear stained, red cheeks. The first thing that came to his mind was you were in trouble and he settled his hand near his gun. “Y/N, what’s wrong are you alright?”
“Junie she-she told me- she saw everything.” Without hesitating Tommy pulled you into his warm embrace once again as a wave of undeniable relief washed through him. Maybe Tommy should be thanking the old bat for eavesdropping all the time.
“I missed your sweet, beautiful smile. I haven’t slept in weeks with an empty half of our bed love. I thought I lost you forever. If I could go back in time and change it and just shoot her I would. She’s never, ever coming back here I made sure of it. It’s taken care of.” You didn’t want to know what that meant all you cared about right now was making up with your husband. “I’m- I’m sorry for not believing you.” Tommy combed his fingers gently through your hair, while tears of happiness began to stream down his now red cheeks.
“Darling I don’t blame you with who I was as a man before I met you. Just know Grace is history, in the past. She could never compete with such a gentle, beautiful soul like yours. I would never do that to you my love.” You looked up at him, your glossy eyes connecting with his.
You couldn’t stop yourself from jumping up into his arms and smashing your lips against his in an electrifying kiss that sent shocks through your body. You missed him momentously. Not wanting to break away, he took note that the door being open was sending snow in. He kissed you on your chilled temple before escorting you inside. “Frances just prepared breakfast and Ada took the children, they’ll be back this evening. Please join me.” You smiled in hopes that things could go back to normal, how they were before Grace attempted to split you a apart.
Before you made it to the kitchen you stopped him in front of the fireplace, papers in your hands. You threw them into the flames and watched them turn to dust. You needed Thomas to know that they weren’t submitted and were not going to be. He smiled at you gracefully, placing his arm around your shoulders.
The two of you stood there in silence, taking in that you were once again still a force no one could reckon with.
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izzyreadingblog · 17 days
Text
Undercut | Patri Guijarro x Reader
+18 minors please do not read it.
A/N: English is not my first language and is my first time writing this type of content, sorry if is bad and for the mistakes.
“Hello my love!” you greeted Patri as soon as you opened the door to your shared apartment, knowing that this weekend neither of you had any obligations and you were alone at home.
Patri appeared seconds later down the hallway wearing her signature smile to meet you. She was wearing an old Barcelona t-shirt, as well as some old training pants that were slightly stained with paint on different parts cause you both have been trying to paint some walls in your home and Patri was doing that right now.
“Hello, my love? Is that all you have to say? Are you sure of it?” Patri says and her words make you stop in your tracks not sure of what to say or do.
“Hey baby, what's wrong with you? Are you angry? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?” You asked, surprised, because that same morning you had left her having breakfast happy with life after saying good morning properly, with orgasms.
“Yes, I'm angry,” Patri responds
“With me?” You still couldn’t believe her words, not understanding anything at all. 
“Of course, who is it going to be with if not?” 
“Have I done something wrong?”
"Something very very bad pretty girl," Patri said and you laughed as worry was lifted from your shoulders, it couldn't be anything that important or bad if Patri put it that way.
“Oh I get it now, So we're in a funny mood, huh?” You joke.
As you say that you try to get closer to Patri to give her a kiss but she attacks you with the brush she is carrying, leaving a small trail of black paint on your cheek.
“Please take me seriously, my love. I don't think the fact that you don't value my life is a funny thing. I’m really mad at you right now” Patri says in a serious tone. 
“What are you saying, baby? I don’t get it” You questioned surprised. “What fly has bitten you?” 
“You don't realize what you've done, do you? it hasn’t even crossed your mind” 
You shook your head as Patri twirled the brush in the air in circular motions.
"Turn around right now," Patri demanded.
You did what Patri asked you without hesitation but did not understand anything that was going on.
“As I said before, you definitely don't take my health into account at all while you do things,” Patri says, her serious tone still up. 
“Patri…” you started to talk as you were starting to worry a lot about Patri’s words.
“Patri, nothing. You are foolish and reckless if you think you can shave the back of your head without warning and expect both me and my panties to survive," she said in a serious tone and you just couldn’t not burst into laughter as you turned to face Patri again.
"Oh thank god I was so worried, so that's it ummh? You like my new haircut?" You said mischievously and approached until you cornered Patri against the living room table.
“Well, of course, that's it” Patri responded after biting her lower lip because of the sudden closeness you are in. “You have played with my life. My heart almost stopped when I saw the story on Instagram. You should had warned me first” 
“Oh really? And has your little heart recovered?” You asked while you put your hand through the collar of Patri’s shirt to check her racing heartbeat and, in the process, massage her left breast. “Oh, I don't think so.”
"Now I'm far worse than before," Patri confessed and launched herself into your mouth, licking your lower lip and then invading your mouth with her tongue.
You responded back to Patri’s passionate kiss and wrapped your hands around her waist, pulling Patri as close as you could to you. 
“You want to play? Are you sure your heart can handle it?” You offered against her mouth and then bit her neck as Patri eagerly nodded to let you know she was okay with what was going to happen. “Well then first put down that devil's brush please.”
Patri left her brush on the table and grabbed the back of your neck with both hands, running her fingers frantically over the shaved area on the base of your neck. After giving you a look full of desire Patri kissed you again and conquered your lips again.
"My goodness, baby," Patri gasped between kisses. “It turns me on a lot. I don't think I've ever been so horny for a haircut in my life.”
“That is a really strong statement, Patricia Guijarro. I would love to know if it’s really true, let me check it out please" You said as you directed your hand to her pants, feeling Patri’s sex above the fabric of her panties, and you didn't have to touch much to confirm that it was true. “Well I can confirm flooding in the basement, so I’m going to proceed to check it out and to assess the damage.”
“You are so stupid sometimes” 
“ Me? stupid?” You questioned a smile on your face.
“Yes, you. Please let's go to bed and keep this up” 
At Patri’s order, you slowly raised your hand to the edge of her pants, grabbing the waistband to pull her into your room and continue what you already started. Once there, the assault began again. Patri licked your chin then attacked your neck and finally pulled the edge of your shirt with her mouth, thus indicating how much the garment bothered her.
"Take your shirt off," Patri demanded.
“Baby my hands are a little busy at the moment” You responded, pulling on her panties and then releasing them and gently grabbing the area, getting a moan from Patri as a result of the fabric rubbing against her sex.
Patri clicked her tongue when she had to remove her hands from your neck, but with skillful movements, she got rid of her shirt and did the same with yours in a matter of seconds.
You took advantage of the moments of separation to remove the rest of your clothes, leaving yourself in your thong and lying Patri on the bed to then take her pants away and throw them somewhere on the floor of the room.
Immediately one of your hands regained its previous position, placing itself again on top of Patri’s panties. You made your way from the tiny moles on her neck to her breasts with your mouth, leaving a trail of kisses and taking pleasure in the moment to provoke Patri's loud moans.
After giving Patri’s breast a well-deserved attention, you made the rest of the journey towards the south, leaving a wet trail along Patris's body, until you came across the only piece of clothing that separated the both of you. You licked her sex over the fabric, placing special emphasis on her clitoris, trying to keep pushing Patri’s buttons and keep getting out of her those moans you love to hear. 
“Please, baby no more teasing,” Patri asked, while grabbing your hair to try and push you into giving her what she wanted the most. 
“These are the wettest panties in history” You whispered while playing with the elastic of them to keep pushing Patri’s buttons and not giving her a release yet. 
“See how I wasn't exaggerating... I'm going to explode. Please baby I need you so bad” Patri says with desperation in her voice.
“I do not have doubts about it, baby girl” 
After one last bite over the top of the garment, you removed it to sink straight into Patri’s folds. You collected Patri’s moisture with your tongue, taking charge of teasing her more and more until she reached a climax in your mouth in record time, you only need a couple long licks and a hand on her clit for that to happen. You continued your attention until her body completely relaxed. You then made your way back to her mouth, wrapping her in a passionate kiss.
"You're so sexy when you cum," you whispered against her neck.
Patri caught your lower lip and pulled it, then gave me a scorching look.
“Take off your thong and lie face down,” Patri commanded you. 
You bit your lip at her dominant attitude and did as she asked, staying propped up on your elbows. You could feel the weight shift on the mattress as Patri moved on it, but you didn't feel her touch. You turned your head to meet her gaze, which shamelessly traveled through all the nooks and crannies of your body and in that moment you felt watched and tremendously desired.
“You like what you see?” You asked.
“You don't know how much I love it, baby.”
With an agile movement, Patri positioned herself on top of you. Her hands went straight to surround your back, ending on your breasts. Her mouth frantically attacked your neck while she rubbed her hips in a back-and-forth that soaked the lower part of my back with her wetness. Patri began to explore your torso and ribs with her hands and then rested them on your abdomen. At the same time, Patri filled your shoulders and back with bites, also leaving wet kisses that made your skin crawl as they mixed with Patri’s agitated breathing. Patri’s hands reached the height of your hips, then she rested on your buttocks, and at the same time, her mouth moved up again to attack your earlobe.
“Your neck is asking me to bite it while I fuck you like this, from behind. What do you think about that? Would you like it?” Patri asks you in a lower voice.
You moaned in anticipation and without warning Patri inserted two of her fingers inside you with ease. Patri left her hand practically still inside you so you understood that you were the one setting the pace of the thrusts Patri was making. The both of us moved in rhythm, while Patri enjoyed marking your neck with her teeth, running along your neck, and sometimes claiming your mouth too to try and keep your moans at bay.
After a couple of minutes with a steady pace, Patri introduced one more finger and with her thumb she stimulated your clitoris, giving you a wonderful orgasm in a few minutes. You let yourself fall completely limp onto the mattress, with Patri on top of you. Patri began to spread kisses along your spine until she reached the height of your face then descended from above you to settle next to you into the mattress. The both of us wore each other out with kisses while our bodies returned to calm.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
Text
Silence can never be bought, only rented.
pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+
picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List
Joel Miller List
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“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.
Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!
Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry
NEXT: PART 3
Catch up on Part 1
-----
It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  
-
Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 
She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 
“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”
You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   
“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  
You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.
“So why not answer?” 
“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 
She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  
If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 
Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  
“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."
"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 
"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 
HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  
Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 
"What?" You ask 
"You should block Chad." 
You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  
Chad: miss u already. 
In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  
"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 
-
You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 
When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 
You have no idea.  
Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?
You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 
-
Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  
When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 
When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  
You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.
You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  
-
Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  
“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 
“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.
“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  
He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.
You ask, “How’d it go?”
“Oh, about how you’d expect.”
“How long were you fucking her?”
“Does it matter?”
“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”
“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”
“Knew you’d say that.” 
“What if I could prove it?”
You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  
“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.
“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 
“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”
“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”
He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.
You hand his phone back.  
"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 
"One what?"
"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 
"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 
"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 
Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  
-
"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”
“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 
Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  
“You’re better than him, Trouble."
You don't say anything. 
"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  
You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  
You still don't say anything. 
Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  
“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 
“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 
"Exactly. And he's just a guy."
"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."
If he's still listening, he ignores it.  
-
“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 
“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 
You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  
He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.
"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.
 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 
He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 
"The whole thing." You nod at it.  
He pulls the fabric back. 
"Now take your hands away."
"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  
Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 
"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 
The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 
It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.
Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 
A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  
“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.
“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 
He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 
He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 
His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 
You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  
“Thirsty?” he breathes. 
“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 
He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.
His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  
“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 
“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 
-
You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 
You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  
He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"
"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 
-
He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  
How devious of him.  
You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 
-
You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.
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