#York Bed And Breakfast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allurilove · 4 months

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Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

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adrienneleclerc · 3 months

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so i’ve been a virgin my whole life right, and my family (like true latino fashion) they always bring it up and makes jokes and my nickname about it. if i EVER say anything about losing my virginity, dios mío, no me avergüenzo. anyways my sisters always say that when im 25 they will give me a birthday that say new record 25 years of virginity. but i can’t help think that charles is celebrating your 25 with your family and see this and turns red, because he knows the truth 👀. and your sisters realize what is happening so the next week they give you a cake that say congrats on no longer being the virgin

Oh my god, I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It’s new, it’s unique, me encanta tu imaginación, de verdad. I am also a virgin, 21 years and counting, jajaja, haven’t been in a relationship either so this is going to be fun to write. I hope I did your idea justice!

The 25 Year-Old “Virgin”

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Where Y/N spends her birthday with her family who still think she’s a virgin with Charles, the boyfriend who made her not a virgin anymore.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: sorry it took so long, I try to make the Spanish as neutral as possible but I am Mexican and Peruvian so there will always be nods to my cultures, I am sorry.

Y/N was sleeping and turned over to hug to Charles but his side of the bed was empty and there was only a bouquet of white and pink roses. This made Y/N sit up in bed and check her phone. It was 8am, she put on her house slippers, took the bouquet in her hand, and walked into the kitchen for something to eat and she saw balloons, more white and pink roses, and Charles making breakfast to some piano music. Charles turned around and saw his girlfriend.

“Mon ange, you’re awake! Happy birthday, beautiful.” Charles said, leaving his station to give Y/N a quick kiss before finishing his cooking.

“This is amazing, muñeco, when did you wake up to do all of this?” Y/N asked, sitting at the kitchen counter.

“6am, i tried really hard not to wake you.” Charles said, serving Y/N’s breakfast on a plate and placing it right in front of her. “Your parents called, they want to host your birthday party at their house.” Charles said and Y/N looked shocked. Y/N and her family moved from New York to Monaco when she was 18, Y/N started dating Charles last year, a little after she turned 24, so Charles doesn’t know how her parents and sisters get.

“Are you sure we can’t just have a small party here?” Y/N asked.

“Mon coeur, I have never met your parents in person, I’ve only talked to them on the phone, I would love to meet them, we’ve been dating for almost a year.” Charles said.

“I know but you don’t know what they’re like.” Y/N said, eating her breakfast. “I’m glad that dating me made you a better cook, this is so good.”

“Ha ha, i asked my mom for cooking lessons since we started dating. Your parents want us at their house at 3.” Charles said.

“Fine, you pick out my outfit while I shower and do my hair.” Y/N said,

“You’re not gonna do your makeup?” Charles asked.

“It would be better if I didn’t,” Y/N said, knowing one of her sisters would probably push her head into the cake, it happened last year.

Y/N got out of the shower with her bathrobe on and she saw the what Charles left on the bed.

“You love seeing me in this dress, don’t you?” Y/N asked, picking up the dress.

“It makes you look so innocent like an Angel, even though we both know that’s not true.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“You and your innocence/corruption kink, it will ruin you, you know.” Y/N said, putting on a pair of panties and one of Charles’s shirts so she could do her hair and skincare routine.

“I think I’m the one that’s ruining you, Mon coeur,” Charles said.

“Yeah that, that right there is something you can’t say in front of my family. Are you wearing a suit?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I am, because we are going out of something goes wrong.” Charles said.

Y/N and Charles are outside her parents house, they knocked on the door and her mom opened.

“Ay, mi Lupita, how are you? Come in, come in, your sisters are picking up your cake.” Y/N’s mom, Hilda, said.

“Lupita?” Charles asked.

“I’ll explain later.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked into the house to see her dad, José, setting up the table.

“Mija, there you are! Happy birthday, mi niña chiquita, never had to worry about boys in the house with this one growing up. So charles how are you?” Jose asked.

“I’ve been good, it’s nice to see you in person.” Charles said.

“Same here, son. Come to the kitchen, you need to eat.” Jose said and Charles turned to Y/N.

“Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles said before entering the kitchen where Hilda made him a plate of tacos dorados de papa, pollo a la brasa, jalea de mariscos (mixed fried seafood so like calamari, clams, fish, shrimp, crab), white rice, French fries. Charles left the kitchen and sat at the dining table next to Y/N. “I’m gonna have to do so much cardio to burn this off. Maybe you’ll help me with that.” Charles whispered the last part in Y/N’s ear.

“I Can’t with you. But I really want jalea so I’m just gonna steal this piece of calamari.” Y/N said, taking a fried calamari ring from Charles’s plate. “Delicious! I’m gonna make my plate.” Y/N said, getting up and thats when her sisters, Maria Luisa and Angelica entered the house with the cake.

“Hola todos! Tenemos el pastel.” María Luisa said, putting her keys on the hook and walking to the kitchen. “Lupe! So good to see you, hermanita. You look good, love the dress, very you.”

“Charles! Nice to finally meet you, I hope being with Y/N isn’t too boring, you know.” Angelica said and Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to charles.

“Don’t listen to them, muñeco.” Y/N said before entering the kitchen to make her own plate of food, sitting down next to Charles.

The little “party” was going well, Charles was getting along with José, there were no jokes at Y/N’s expense, it was all great until.

“Okay, time to cut the cake.” Hilda said, bringing out the cake to place it in front of Y/N with the candles lit on the dinner table.

The cake read “New Record: 25 Years of Virginity”. Y/N looked up at Charles and covered her face with her hands while Charles’s face turned Ferrari red and he scratched the back of his neck. María Luisa and Angelica stared at Y/N and then at Charles. The two girls laughed.

“No manches! Ay mami, pásame algo para quitar el frosting, ya no creo que esto aplica a ella.” Angélica told Hilda. No fucking way. Mom, pass me something to scrape the frosting off, I don’t think this applies to her anymore

“Angelica!” Y/N yelled. “Que oso, neta, mejor ustedes se quedan con el pastel, Charles y yo tenemos planes. Muñeco, Let’s go.” Y/N said, getting up how embarrassing, seriously, y’all can keep the cake, Charles and I have other plans.

“It was nice meeting all of you.” Charles said, before leaving with Y/N.

“Usan protección!” Marcia Luisa screamed out and Y/N flipped her off, causing her sisters to laugh and their parents hit them upside the head. Charles and Y/N walked to his car and Y/N turned on the radio.

“So…that’s why your mom called you Lupita?” Charles asked.

“Yep, the Virgin Mary, La virgencita de Guadalupe, Lupita. Ugh, I’m so sorry about that, my sisters are…well, they’re my sisters.” Y/N said.

“It’s fine, Mon coeur, at least they won’t tease you anymore.” Charles said.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Can we still make it to our reservation?” Y/N asked.

“Yes we can, do you want cake for dessert? You can’t celebrate your birthday without cake.” Charles said,

“One slice should be good, let’s go.” Y/N said.

A week later, Y/N and Charles were sleeping, cuddled up together when they heard the doorbell ring.

“Mon coeur, get the door.” Charles moaned out.

“No way, muñeco, this is your apartment.” Y/N said, burying her face in his neck.

“Mon ange, I’m semi hard and I don’t think I should answer the door like this.” Charles said, the doorbell rang again.

“Alright, I’ll go.” Y/N said, kissing Charles’s neck.

“That’s not helping my situation.” Charles said.

“I know.” Y/N said, she got out of bed, put on her chanclas, and answered the door, her two sisters were holding a white box.

“Surprise!” They said. Y/N motioned for them to come in.

“Whats that?” Y/N asked.

“Well we felt bad about last week so we got you a new cake and some pan dulce.” Angelica said as María Luisa placed the box on the kitchen counter.

“Open the box, it’s your favorite flavor.” María Luisa said. Y/N hesitantly opened the box and when she saw the frosting she laughed.

“Se pasan, de verdad.” Y/N said. “But thank you. I’m sure Charles will get a kick out of this.”

“So…you lost your virginity to an F1 driver. I’m so jealous,” María Luisa said,

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky, he was so gentle to me. Now get out.” Y/N said,

“You’re so mean to us.” Angelica said.

“Dude, you guys are late for work.” Y/N said, showing her sisters the time.

“Oh shit we are, see you later.” María Luisa said, pushing Angelica out the door and running down the stairs. Y/N closed the door and that’s when Charles entered the kitchen in boxers where she can see his semi hard on.

“Your sisters came over?” Charles asked.

“Yep, and with a new cake for us.” Y/N said, Charles walked to the counter and saw the cake, she laughed lightly.

“Well i am glad that I got to be the one to ‘pop your cherry’, I hate that expression, by the way.” Charles said. Y/N walked to Charles, having one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest while charles placed his hands on her waist.

“It doesn’t matter. By the way, we never got to have birthday sex and I believe you need some bell with your situation.” Y/N’s said, trailing her hand from his chest to the elastic of his boxers.

“I guess we should fix that with some morning sex, don’t you think?” Charles asked in a flirtatious manner,

“Oh absolutely.” Y/N replied and Charles carried her to the bedroom.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It was very fun to write, not gonna lie. I also started watching Drive To Survive because if I don’t have F1 TV, I’m gonna keep myself entertained with something F1 related

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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sturniqlo · 11 days

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Pretty Girl- M.S

summary: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.

cw: cursing, FLUFF; sweet messages, first meeting, honeymoon stage, kissing, ANGST(very little); second thoughts on relationship(?), past relationship issues, insecurity of not being good enough, social media hate

an: i just love fics where reader is a famous singer :) | very fast paced timeline | as usual, not proofread

masterlist | join my taglist

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"said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."- bed chem, s.c

matthew.sturniolo 12:47am

hi, you're like really pretty :)

Matt exits out of the dm and scrolls on tiktok for the remainder of the night. He shuts off his phone completely forgetting about the message he had sent to Y/n. There was no way she would respond. Y/n was a famous singer with millions of more followers than him. He had been following her for sometime now, as he had discovered a song- many songs- he really likes from her. Matt also saw his big of a fan Nick was, which introduced him to his favorite songs.

Y/n was currently in New York finding some inspiration from her upcoming album. Usually she resides in LA but she loves being in New York while she writes. It's more homey to her, it was fall after all, her favorite season, the leaves were turning orange and falling off of their branches, landing on sidewalks all over the city, the weather was chillier, she loved it. Back in LA it was many degrees hotter, she couldn't wear her cute cardigans without sweating.

The next morning, Matt woke up to a loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was very close to his room. Groggily he came out of his room and saw his brothers arguing. "I hid the last bagel for a reason because I was going to fucking eat it this morning." Nick angrily crumples up the empty bag the bagel was in. "How was I supposed to know?" Chris argues back, taking a bite of the bagel.

"Do you guys mind? I was sleeping peacefully and I got woken up to you two arguing over a fucking bagel." Matt scoffs. He goes back into his room and shuts the door. He rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed where his phone is laying. As it turns on, he sees a instagram notification. Unlocking it with his face id, he sees Y/n replied to his message. "Holy-" He cuts himself off.

y/n/y/l/n 2:47pm

thank you! you're cute yourself ;)

sorry for the late response it was 3 am when you dmed me haha!

Matt stared at the message opened message with his mouth slightly open. you're cute yourself? He was about to faint. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard thinking about what he was going to say next.

matthew.sturniolo 11:49am

holy shit you actually responded... also thank you :))

sounds like you're three hours ahead of me??

y/n/y/l/n 2:50pm

hahaha

i believe so. i'm currently in new york, i'm assuming you're in the west coast? la possibly?

She responded quickly and Matt's heartbeat only got quicker.

Y/n had spent her morning bright and early. She woke up at around seven am and did her morning which consisted of her morning shower, skincare routine. She ate a bowl of strawberries and blueberries while she answered some emails. About an hour after sending emails and responding to important messages she went out for breakfast.

At her favorite cafe, she ordered her usual bagel and iced coffee and sat down by the window. She ate her breakfast and stared out the window watching people walk by going about their morning. A few fans spotted her as she was leaving so she took some pictures with them. "Excuse me, Y/n?" A soft shy voice said as she exited the bagel shop. She looked back and saw two teenage girls nervously smiling.

"Hey, guys!" She gasped, letting her wired headphones hang. "Hi, we- we uh. Sorry I'm so nervous." Y/n smiled. "Don't be nervous. I promise you it's okay." She giggled and walked closed to them. "Okay, thank you." The one girl sighed in relief. The three of them made a ten minute long conversation. "We're so sorry for taking your time!" One of them gasps realizing how long they've been talking for. "Don't worry about it, it's okay."

Y/n returned to her apartment at around twelve and cleaned up a bit. She'd been in New York for about two weeks now. She took a quick shower and chilled on her phone for a bit. Here and there she liked to go through her instagram dms and respond to some fans. As she was scrolling through, she saw that Matt has dmed her. Y/n has known about the triplets for sometime now, she has watched a couple of their youtube video. And to be honest, Matt had caught her eye those couple of times.

She blushed, she opened the dm and read the message fully. It was sent about eleven hours ago. She responded anyways and she was bold enough to send a second message. Exiting out quickly and scrolled and responded back to some fans who just wanted to say hi or wanted some advice.

Two minutes later, a notification from Matt appeared at the top of her screen. She smiled and opened it right away responding quickly, Matt responded seconds later.

matthew.sturniolo

i am

also, new york? i bet it's beautiful out there now that it's fall time

y/n/y/l/n

it's really is! have you ever been out here?

matthew.sturniolo

yeah, a couple of times actually!

are you there permanently?

y/n/y/l/n

nope, just here to get some writing done :))

matthew.sturniolo

new music im assuming?

y/n/y/l/n

can't say tooo much but yess

Over the few weeks, the two messaged each other everyday and eventually exchanged numbers. As much as Matt wanted to tell his brothers. He wanted to keep his 'relationship' with her hidden for a while and be in this little bubble. Matt really enjoyed messaging her and talking with her on the phone that he asked her if she would be up to the idea of talking romantically and see where it would lead them to. Obviously she said yes.

Y/n had never felt like this, Matt was amazing to say the least and she hasn't even met him. Every morning when she would wake up, a good morning message from Matt would be waiting for her. He'd send her little messages throughout the day when he wasn't filming and he calls her when he knows she's about to go to bed. Yeah, she's had her boyfriends here and there but they were nothing like Matt.

Her past relationships were so public from the beginning to the end they almost felt forced. Anytime they would go out there was always a new article and new pictures about it. There were rumors, allegations, and opinions. And she never dated the best people.

matt

hi pretty girl :)

y/n

hi pretty boyyy

matt

are you busy?

y/n

for you? neverrr

matt

okay, i'm calling you now!

Before Y/n could even type out a response her phone rang in her hands with Matt's contact filling her screen. She immediately answered. "Hi Matt." She put him on speaker. "Hi, pretty lady. How's the writing going?" He asks her. "It's.. going. I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm taking a break." Y/n brings her knees up to her chest and scoots her writing book away from her.

"Anyways, what have you been up to?" She says, pressing the facetime button. He answers it right away. "Nothing much, me and my brothers just finished filming a video." He brings his face into view. "Sounds fun, what'd you guys film?" She smiles. "Just a car video talking about random things."

They talked more for some time until someone interrupted Matt's rant by barging into his room. "And then- do you not know how to knock?" He scolded whoever came in. "Who are you talking to?" She heard Nicks voice. "Don't worry about it, what do you want." Matt huffs. Y/n noticed how he tilts his phone away from Nicks view. "Can you take me to-" Matt cuts him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you. Shoo now." He motions his hand for Nick to leave so he can keep talking to Y/n. A small giggle leaves Y/n and Matt looks at her through the phone and she gasps. Nick must've heard her because he also gasps. "Matt! Are you talking to a girl?" His phone is suddenly snatched from his grip.

Nick looks at the screen and Y/n is with wide eyes and a slight open mouth due to her being shocked of what's happening. Y/n knew that Matt wanted to keep this to himself, as well as her. "Oh.. my god." Nick said and quickly gave the phone back to Matt when he saw who it was. Y/n heard Matt's door close and started laughing, so did Matt. "Holy fuck."

"I'm going to let you go, I need to deal with Nick. I'll call you later." He smiled and waved at her. "Okay, let me know how it goes." She waved back.

"Nick?" Matt walks out of his room. "You, as in Matthew Sturniolo, my triplet brother, are talking to the Y/n. As in the famous singer. Fucking Grammy award winning Y/n!" Nick yelled with his eyes wide open. Y/n was probably- no, is- Nicks favorite artist. He couldn't belive it. "Yes, Nick. Is that so hard to believe?" Matt giggles. "Motherfucker yes! How did you of all people bag her?!" "I'm offended?" Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

Matt goes to tell Nick how everything had happened. "Oh my god, I can't believe this!" Nick yelled into his hands. "What's going on?" Chris comes up his set of stairs. "You'll never believe it!" Nick says. Matt- actually Nick- catches Chris up with everything he missed. "Matt, I've never realized how much game you have."

After everyone - Nick- calmed down, they decided to sit and watch a show.

y/n

i'm assuming everything went well?

matt

yes, nick had a moment of starstruckness i guess, but it went well in general

y/n

omgg, he is so me

will he be okay with me following him?"

matt

pls do, i would kill to see his reaction

y/n

okok

Y/n giggled as she went to her instagram and searched up Nicks username and followed him. Across the country, Matt was secretly recording Nick who was unintentionally scrolling on instagram. "No fucking way! She- she just followed me." Nick flipped his phone to Matt. "She just followed me too!" Chris jumped up from his spot on the couch.

matt

*video attachment*

chris was a plus

y/n

hahaha

one month later

"Alright, we have this shirt with these jeans or," Y/n holds up a potential outfit and shows Matt over facetime. "Ok, I like that one." He nods. "There's also this dress." She holds up the material. "That's the one. I like that one." Matt points and she giggles. "Okay." She leaves the frame and comes back in once she's changed into her outfit.

"It's four over in LA right? I still get a bit confused over timezones." She says as she applies her eyeliner. "Yeah, and it's seven for you, correct?" Matt watches intently as she does he makeup. "Mhm, I have to leave in like forty minutes." Tonight she was going to an album release party for her friend, Conan.

"I would love to be in your timezone. Makes it easier to talk to you." Y/n smiles at an idea that popped up in her head. "Would you -I don't know- maybe want to fly out here? I- you don't have to, but it's just an idea." She rambles a bit. "I'd love to actually. But, I'd have to talk to my brothers first, not that I need their approval or anything, just I'm not sure if they'd want to come." He says.

"You could bring them too. It'd be fun either way." She says. As much as Matt loves traveling with his brothers, he'd appreciate it if this trip was just about the two of them. It's be their first meeting after all. "I hope this plans out well, I really want to meet you, officially."

"I'm tryin' to go to New York." Matt blurts out randomly. He had finished his call with Y/n about two hours ago and all he thought about was possibly getting to meet Y/n and spend sometime with her. "Matt flying across the country for a girl? Who would've thought." Chris says. "Shut up." Matt rolls his eyes. "Do you guys want to go? Or?" He says.

Both Nick and Chris looks at each other and shake their head. As much as Nick wanted to go and possibly meet Y/n, he wanted Matt to have his moment. "Nah, we'll let you enjoy your time with her." Nick says and Matt dramatically sighs in relief. "Thank god! I didn't want to take you guys anyways." Nick gasped. "You know what, i'm second thought." Matt shook his head. "Nope, you made up your mind."

matt

guess who's going to new york :D

y/n

no wayy?!? i'm so excited!!!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, clairo, matthew.sturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo and 825,733 others

y/n/y/l/n: i am new york, new york is me

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jennaortega: y/n in new york>>>

| y/n/y/l/n: you get it 🙂‍↕️

y/nfan57: it's y/n's season

y/nfan19: matt liked...

| loser4: okay? so did nick?

sadiesink_: you're so cool

matthew.sturniolo: you

| y/n/y/l/n: me

two weeks later

"I'm by the taxi pickup." Y/n said on the phone to Matt who was somewhere inside the airport. "Is there a sign or something?" Matt was having a hard time looking for the right place. "Uhm... oh yeah, there's a bright green sign that says taxi only. It's pretty big so you can't really miss it." She let out a breathy laugh. "I see it, and I see you." Y/n turned, but still couldn't see him. "Other way, pretty girl." She turned the opposite way and saw him.

"Matt!" She squealed, and ran to him as he dragged his suitcase behind with a huge smile on his face. "Y/n!" He let go of his suitcase and she jumped in his arms. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!" She whispered into his neck. "I can't believe it either." He says and she pulls away from his neck at looks at him. "You're even prettier in person." She blushes. "Stop it! I could say the same thing about you." She places her feet back on the ground. "How was your flight?" She asks. "It was good, except for the guy snoring next to me."

They arrived at Matt's hotel, and he settled in before going out for lunch together. "Okay, my favorite spot to get lunch is here." She says and Matt opens the door for her. "Thank you, Matt." Matt smiles. For the three- almost four hours they've been together, it all felt natural, as if they've known each other for years.

"What do you usually get?" He puts his arm around her shoulders and she smiles at the action. "I usually get the chicken wrap and a mango lemonade." She looks up at him. "I'll get the same." He nods and kisses her forehead. See, natural.

"What do you think?" Y/n covers her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful of her wrap. "It's very good, you weren't lying." Matt says as he goes in for another bite.

For the rest of the day, they walked around the city hand in hand, Matt pointing out at certain billboards in time square.

Later that night, they returned to Matt's hotel where Y/n said goodnight and went home. But, not without a kiss. A first kiss. "I hope you had fun today." She says as she walks towards the door. "Trust me I did. Thank you for today." He says, following behind her. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Matt." Y/n smiles. "For sure." He unhesitatingly grabs her jaw and plants his lips on hers with a gentle kiss.

The room was soon filled with the soft smacking sounds of their lips intertwining with each others. Soon enough her arms ended up wrapped around his neck, with her back against the door and Matt's arms holding her hips. A couple of moments later, they both pulled back gasping for air. "Wow, I- mmph!" Matt was cut off by Y/n putting her lips back on his.

"Okay, I should- I should go now." Y/n pulls away and giggles. Both of them out of breath and their lips red and swollen. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

The next day, the two of them went out for breakfast and were especially giddy the whole day, sharing kisses, holding hands and small touches. "So, this one is- Matt?" Y/n stops herself. "Yeah, yup. Mhm." He says. "You weren't paying attention were you?" He breaks out in a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, but you're just really fucking pretty." Her cheeks redden up by the compliment.

"Matt!" He grabs her chin and kisses her. "Okay, I'll listen this time, for real."

It was now eight pm and Matt's hand was wrapped around her shoulders as usual. As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/n heard a series of whispers behind them. Her first reaction was to look back, and as she did she saw a flash of a phone.

"Oh my god." Y/n mutters under her breath. "C'mon Matt, let's go." She grabs onto his arm and leads him to the opposite way of the stranger. Matt had noticed the person taking the picture as he also turned his head a little bit after Y/n did and saw how her mood had changed.

"Hey, you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Y/n stands in front of Matt once they've entered her apartment, moving bits of his hair that covers his eyes. "Mhm." He hums. "Matt, you can talk to me. Is it what happened with the person who took the picture?" Matt looked away from her. She had gotten it right. "Matt," She sighs, pouting slightly. "I- are you having second thoughts about this? I just- I don't know." He says. "Hey, no, of course not! It's just- I really like this little bubble we're in right now, with no unwanted opinions." She pauses before continuing on.

"And I know I shouldn't care about what people say about us or anything, but it gets to me sometimes. With my past relationships I feel like the media got involved so much that it ruined them, and- and I don't want that to happen with us. I really like you" She interlocks their hands together. "I really like you too." He gives her a soft smile before pulling her in for a kiss. "Are you okay now? Did I clear something's up." He nods. "Yes, thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it."

Y/n was right, the internet does have a lot of opinions. After Matt had left Y/n's apartment, even though she had told him to stay, Matt did it nightly call to his brothers before going to bed. When he had woken up in the morning, he went on social media and saw tiktok about the picture and another picture that they didn't know of and and there were many negative comments about his and Y/n's relationship. Specifically about him.

y/nsoulmate: broo... how is she going to go from dating a famous singer/actor to a youtuber💀

soulmatey/n: she should get someone better

ilivefory/n: dare i say it, but she downgraded

slutniolo: why is he dating her? isn't she on her tenth relationship?

y/nismygf: y/n, matt, if you're seeing this just know twitter is rooting and happy for you guys! tiktok police is annoying!!!!!

y/nismommy: he isn't it for her 🤷

prettyy/n: he could never treat her like danny did.. oop

ang3ly/n: y/n, baby, leave b4 u can, he's just going to use u🥴

everythingy/n: not a youtuber

y/nsgirl: why is everyone being so negative? this isn't your guys' relationship to judge or comment on. get a job, get a life!

Although the last comment made him chuckles a bit, the other comments hurt him. Were they right? Yeah, he wasn't on her level of famousness, but was it such a big deal? His phone suddenly rang in his hold as he was too deep in his thoughts. It was a call from Nick. He answered. "Good morning sunshine!" Nick said. "Why are you up so early? Isn't it six am over there?" Matt says. "I haven't slept actually. It's kind of worrying me." Nick laughed as he got comfy on his bed.

"I saw the pictures. How're you guys feeling about it?" Great, something he didn't want to think about right now. "I don't know? She wasn't the happiest when she caught that one person taking a picture, but she gave me her reasons and it was understandable. I didn't realize it at first, but she was totally right. The internet can be harsh, holy shit." Nick furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Matt sighed and got up to sit against his headboard.

"I saw a video and the comments were a bunch of people saying that she shouldn't be with me because i'm not on her level of success, I guess, and that she also downgraded. I mean, what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough for her?" Nick felt bad, he hated that the internet was making Matt have second thoughts about his developing relationship. "Don't listen to them Matt, they're just a bunch of losers. And, you are more than enough for her. I was called her earlier today, yesterday I guess, and she was so excited to tell me what she had planned for you two. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now." Nick reassured him.

As Matt got ready, he thought of what Nick had said. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now. He was right, he is in deep. Matt knew Y/n was going back to LA a week after he was. They'd have all the time in the world to hang out. However, he wanted to be hers.

He was going to ask her today.

"Hi, pretty girl." He kissed forehead once she let him in. "Hi, how was your morning." She closed and locked the door behind him. "It was good, how about yours." They walked into her bedroom so she could continue getting ready for the day. "I had an early morning." She sighs. "I had a last minute meeting, luckily it was short and over zoom." She wraps her arms around Matt. "Hi." Y/n whispers. "Hi." He giggles and she leans up to kiss him.

"Okay- shit!" Matt stumbles a bit to the side with the bike. It was a couple of hours later and Y/n and Matt decided to rent bikes and bike around the city for a bit before heading to their planned picnic Y/n really liked to go to. "Why is it so heavy?" He says, trying to put the bike up straight. "They're so heavy for no reason, the amount of times I've fallen to the side with it is ridiculous." She starts to peddle slowly, waiting for Matt to catch up. A folded blanket is held by the basket that is on the bike.

"Are you sure you can ride the bike and carry the picnic basket at the same time?" She asks him. "I'm sure, just can't go too fast or I'll bust my shit." They rode around for thirty minutes sight seeing before heading to the park. "This looks like a nice spot." Matt pointed out an empty spot near a tree. "Okay, I'll lay out the blanket." Y/n unfolded the blanket and carefully placed it down on the grass.

"So, you're going to be in LA a week after I go back, right?" Matt says as he sips on his water bottle Y/n had packed. "Mhm, the twenty fifth. We'll finally be in the same place permanently. I'd love to hangout more with you." She smiles at him. "About that, I actually had a question for you." He caps his water and places it down next to him, moving his body to face her. "Oh, okay."

"Can I be yours, pretty girl? Officially yours." She gasps lightly and breaks into a huge smile. "You were always mine, pretty boy."

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applehouseyork · 1 year

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wolverigrl · 22 days

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The talk

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Enjoy this part 3! I hope you like it and tell me if you still like to read a next part?

!Disclaimer! In this story, Blake and Ryan have been married since 2010 and therefore had their children earlier. I changed the age of the children to make it fit.

Warnings: maybe some swearing here and there, a bit angsty and fluff, mentions of alcohol

Part 1

Part 2

---------------------------------------------------

I couldn’t sleep last night. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, staring at the digital clock that blinked back at me relentlessly. When 6 a.m. finally rolled around, I gave up, threw back the covers, and dragged myself out of bed. I needed something to ground me, to keep my mind from spiraling, so I rolled out my yoga mat in front of the massive window that looked out over the New York skyline. The city was still half-asleep, but I could already feel its energy buzzing in the distance.

After a quick, but calming, yoga session, I snapped a selfie. I sat on the mat in my sports bra and leggings, my hair a messy bun, and the sunrise just starting to peek through the buildings behind me. My face looked peaceful, but inside, my stomach was a knot of nerves. Still, I posted it on Instagram, hoping the positivity from my followers might lift me a bit.

Within minutes, comments flooded in. Mostly love and support, people saying how they wished they could be as dedicated to early morning yoga as I was. But some of them worried about me. There were a few messages asking if I was okay, mentioning the paparazzi photos of yesterday. Apparently, walking through the city with Blake after the premiere turned into a full-on hangover spectacle, and people noticed. They always notice everything.

I sighed and decided to call Blake.

“Heyyy!” she greeted cheerfully, her voice always so full of life.

“Hey, Blake!"I replied, trying to sound less anxious than I felt.

I hesitated. I didn’t really want to unload on her again.

“I, uh, I’ve got Hugh coming over soon. I… I don’t know, I’m kinda nervous about it. We need to talk, and I just—I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

I heard in her voice that she was smiling. “Listen, you and Hugh will be fine. He’s a great guy. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t be flirting with you so much in public. Trust me, I’ve known him for years—he doesn’t do that unless he means it.”

I bit my lip, feeling my anxiety twist and turn. “But what if… ahh.. nevermind. I’m just so confused.”

“That’s okay. As I already told you, you don’t have to figure it all out in one day. Just talk to him, be honest, and see where it goes. You’ve got this.”

Her words helped, if only a little. I thanked her, and after hanging up, I busied myself around the apartment, waiting for the knock on the door.

When it finally came, I almost jumped out of my skin. I opened the door to find Hugh standing there with a bag of bagels in one hand and two coffees in the other.

“Good morning. I brought us breakfast." he said with that charming smile of his.

We exchanged small talk as we sat down at the kitchen counter, nibbling on our food. He complimented the view, asked about my morning, and I tried to stay calm, but the tension between us was impossible to ignore. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dancing around the subject, I took a deep breath and started the conversation I’d been dreading.

“Hugh,” I began softly, setting my half-eaten bagel down. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling. About us, I mean.”

He nodded slowly, looking at me with that warm, steady gaze that always seemed to calm me, even when I was a mess inside.

“I like you, y/n. A lot. And I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. But I’d like to figure it out together if that’s something you want to.”

My chest tightened. “But the age thing… your kids… Hugh, it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’m ready for something so complicated.”

Hugh leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ve already talked to my son about it, actually. Oscar asked me about you, and I told him the truth—that I’m happy when I’m with you. And he said that as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters to him. Ava feels the same way, I’m sure.”

I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. The relief I felt, knowing that he’d already had that conversation with his son, was overwhelming. But at the same time, the weight of everything else crashed over me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wiping at my eyes as the tears fell.

Hugh got up and pulled me up from the chair so that I stood in front of him. His arms wrapped me in a soft hug, and his fingers tilted my chin up slightly so he could kiss the tip of my nose. It was a soft, sweet gesture that made my heart skip.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

I nodded, sniffling a bit. “Slow sounds good. Maybe we could… you know, go on real dates? But keep things quiet for now.”

He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, Blake and Ryan can know, but no one else. At least for now.”

We finished breakfast and cleaned up, and soon we found ourselves on the couch. Hugh wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. For a while, we just sat there, the silence comforting, our worries temporarily pushed to the side.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Did you… did you mean it? That kiss in the gym?”

Hugh chuckled, glancing down at me with that familiar playful spark in his eyes. “Was that not obvious?”

I felt my face heat up, a slow blush spreading across my cheeks. I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me. “I had other things on my mind.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the butterflies in my stomach. There was something so disarming about him, the way he could make me feel at ease even when my heart was racing. His gaze held mine, the tension between us thickening, and suddenly, I couldn’t resist any longer.

Without thinking, I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, everything else faded away. His lips were soft and warm, moving gently against mine, and the kiss quickly deepened, growing more intense with each passing second.

My heart pounded in my chest, the heat between us rising as my hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. Hugh’s arms circled my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically sitting on his lap. His hands were firm yet tender, one resting on the small of my back, the other moving up to cradle the side of my face as the kiss continued to build in intensity.

I felt my breath hitch as his lips trailed from mine to the corner of my mouth, then along my jawline, his stubble grazing my skin in the most delicious way. My pulse quickened as I let out a soft sigh, my fingers tangling in his short, soft hair. The sensation of his lips on my neck sent shivers down my spine, my entire body humming with anticipation.

Hugh's hand slid down to my back, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, and it sent my mind spinning. His touch was gentle but sure, his fingers tracing small circles on my lower back, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

His mouth returned to mine, the kiss now slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. His tongue teased my lips, and I opened up to him, the kiss deepening as our breaths mingled, the air between us growing hotter. Every nerve in my body was on fire, the warmth of his touch, the weight of his hands, the way he held me, as if I were something precious. I felt safe and reckless all at once, the thrill of being so close to him coursing through me like electricity.

Hugh’s grip tightened on my waist, his hands sliding down to my hips, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, a heady mix of desire and disbelief that this was actually happening. His lips parted from mine just long enough for me to catch a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering open to meet his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with the same want that was swirling inside me.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned back in, kissing him with more urgency this time, my hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my fingertips. His body was firm under my touch, and the sensation sent another rush of heat through me. I pressed closer to him, my lips hungry for more, and he responded in kind, his hands roaming over my back.

My pulse raced, and I felt the world narrowing down to just the two of us—the heat of our bodies, the taste of his lips, the way his hands moved over me, every touch igniting something deeper, something I couldn’t control.

Then, out of nowhere, his phone buzzed.

We both froze, breathless, still tangled together. I pulled back just slightly, still feeling the heat of his breath on my lips. "You should get that," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my ears.

Hugh let out a low groan of frustration but reluctantly reached for his phone. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s Ryan.”

I smirked, trying to catch my breath. Of course, it was Ryan.

Hugh answered, still holding me close as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Hey, mate.” he greeted casually, though I could hear the slight edge of impatience in his voice.

Ryan’s voice was loud enough that I could hear him through the phone. “So, dinner at our place today? You and y/n should come by.”

Hugh blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “How do you know y/n's with me?”

Ryan’s laugh was almost smug. “Call it a hunch.”

Hugh shook his head, glancing at me with a playful smile. “You in?”

I nodded, still a bit breathless, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “Sure.”

He confirmed with Ryan and then hung up, looking back at me with a soft smile. “Let’s go for a walk before dinner.”

I grinned. The idea of sneaking through the streets with him was somehow exciting. But then reality hit. “You should probably… go get changed." I suggested, glancing down at the clothes he was wearing. "Something more undercover."

Hugh nodded, gently setting me next to him and standing up. "I'll swing by my place and change. Give me a few minutes, and I'll come back for you."

He pressed one more quick kiss to my forehead before heading out the door, leaving me sitting there, my heart still racing from the kiss. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to calm the fire that was still burning inside me. It was impossible to believe that just a few moments ago, I had been straddling Hugh Jackman in my living room, kissing him like my life depended on it.

True to his word, Hugh returned not long after, dressed down in a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a hoodie, looking like a celebrity who's trying to avoid attention. I slipped on a casual jacket and sunglasses, and we headed out, blending into the afternoon crowds as we walked through the streets of New York.

As we wandered, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about work—how his latest project was going, how I was handling mine. We shared stories and joked about the craziness of the industry, but somewhere along the way, the conversation grew more personal. Hugh asked me about my childhood, about the things that made me who I was, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

He told me stories about his kids, about how Oscar was so curious about everything, how Ava was growing into her own person, full of ideas and opinions. Hearing him talk about them made me see another side of him—so caring, so deeply connected to his family. It only made me like him more.

We asked each other questions that weren’t surface level, diving into the things that really mattered, like what we wanted in life, what we were afraid of. The more we talked, the more I realized again how easy it was to be with him, how natural it felt.

Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. We made our way back to my apartment, where Hugh dropped me off so I could get ready for dinner at Blake and Ryan’s. He gave me one short peck before heading back to his place to change.

As I stood in front of my mirror, touching up my makeup and fixing my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, about how right it had felt. Today had been full of surprises, but for the first time, I wasn’t scared of where this might lead. Hugh and I were taking it slow, figuring things out as we went, and somehow, that was enough for now.

When Hugh came back to pick me up, we were both ready for whatever the rest of the day had in store. We were in this together.

The moment we stepped through the door at Blake and Ryan’s, the familiar sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor reached my ears. Before I knew it, all three of their daughters—James, Betty, and Inez—came running toward us, their faces lighting up in excitement.

“Y/n! Hugh!” they squealed in unison, their voices high-pitched with joy.

I couldn’t help but grin as I bent down to greet them, enveloping each one of them in a warm hug. Hugh followed suit, gently embracing them, his face soft with affection. Ryan stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on his face.

“I swear, they get more excited when you two show up than when Blake and I come home." Ryan quipped, shaking his head as if the betrayal was real.

I chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair as she beamed up at me. “Well, I mean, we are the fun ones.”

Blake walked up behind him, smirking as she shrugged her shoulders. “Can you really blame them?” she said, giving Ryan a teasing nudge.

Before I could respond, the seven-year-old James grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the living room. “Come on, y/n! I want to show you something!”

I let her guide me into the cozy room, where Penny and Baxter, the two dogs, were lounging lazily on the floor. James hurried over to a corner piled high with toys and grabbed two Barbie dolls, her excitement radiating off her.

“Look!” she said, holding up the first Barbie. “This one looks just like you!” The doll was dressed in sporty clothes that reminded me of what I’d worn in my recent Instagram post. “And this one." she added, grabbing the second doll, “looks like Mommy.”

I laughed softly, touched by her creativity. “Wow, you nailed it! I can totally see the resemblance.”

As I sat down with her to admire her Barbie collection, I noticed Hugh standing in the doorway, his smile widening as he watched us. But before he could come over, Betty and Inez had already ambushed him, grabbing onto his legs and giggling uncontrollably.

“Hugh! Hugh!” Inez exclaimed, her arms wrapped tightly around one of his legs. “Can we watch the Minions again? Please? Pleeease?”

Betty chimed in, nodding with equal enthusiasm. “Yeah, can we?”

Ryan strolled into the room, laughing as he leaned against the doorframe. “Again? How many times have you guys watched that now? Fifty? Sixty?”

Hugh chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair. “Maybe after dinner, alright? You two might know it better than I do at this point.”

Just then, Blake called out from the dining room, “Okay, everyone, dinner’s ready! Let’s give Hugh a break and get some food in your bellies first.”

We all made our way to the dining room, and as I sat down at the beautifully set table, I couldn’t help but admire the spread. Blake had outdone herself again.

“This looks incredible!" I commented as I took my seat, glancing appreciatively at the dishes laid out before us.

Blake smiled, waving off the compliment. “Ah, it’s nothing. Ryan helped, too.”

Ryan straightened in his chair, pretending to be the world’s greatest chef. “Yeah, I practically made the entire thing,” he boasted, earning a playful elbow to the side from Blake.

While we ate and talked about today's events, I noticed that James, Betty, and Inez had already finished their meals. The three of them looked up at Blake and Ryan with wide, pleading eyes.

"Mom, Dad, can we go play with Penny and Baxter now? Please?" James asked, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.

Ryan exchanged a glance with Blake before nodding. "Alright, you three can go. Just don’t feed the dogs under the table again." he added with a mock sternness that made the girls giggle.

The kids squealed and scrambled out of their chairs, racing back toward the living room where the dogs were waiting for them. Blake shook her head fondly as she watched them go, and we all settled back into the conversation.

I was right in the middle of talking about something funny that had happened at work when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I excused myself, stepping outside to take the call. When I saw Chris Evans’ name on the screen, I smiled.

“Hey, Chris!” I greeted, leaning against the side of the house.

“Y/n!" Chris’s voice came through with its usual warmth. “I’m heading down to New York tomorrow. Wanna grab a beer?”

I smiled. “Absolutely! Let’s meet at the pub we always go to. How’s 7 p.m.?”

“Perfect!" Chris replied. “Looking forward to catching up.”

We wrapped up the conversation, and I headed back inside. As I slipped into my seat, Hugh gave me a gentle smile and placed his hand on my leg under the table, his touch grounding me.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking my thigh in a way that sent a small wave of comfort through me.

I nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, all good. Just Chris Evans. He’s coming to New York tomorrow, so we’re grabbing a drink.”

Ryan’s ears perked up immediately, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, Captain America, huh? Should Hugh be worried?”

Blake chuckled beside him, clearly in on the joke. I rolled my eyes, laughing. “No, no need to worry. Chris is like an older brother to me.”

Hugh looked intrigued, glancing between Ryan and me. “You and Chris go way back?”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair as I began to explain. “Yeah, Chris, Scarlett Johansson, and I studied together in New York when we were both starting out. They were a few years ahead of me, but we ended up in the same acting workshops. We hit it off and became good friends.”

Blake leaned forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Oh, you never told me your stories of university! You must have some great ones.”

Ryan grinned. “Come on, spill! Any embarrassing moments with Captain America and Black Widow?”

I laughed. “Oh, tons. Like the time they got lost in Central Park for two hours and missed class. Scarlett shook it off, but Chris was so mortified, and we all gave him a hard time for it.”

Ryan cracked up at the image, and Hugh smiled, though I could tell he was focused on every word. “That sounds like him." Ryan said. “Always such a big goof.”

Blake leaned closer, clearly digging for more. “Didn’t you two do a movie together a few years back? Weren’t there some pretty steamy scenes in that one?”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly at the memory. “Yeah, we did." I admitted, chuckling. “It was a bit... awkward, though, because by then, Chris really did feel more like a brother to me.”

Ryan, however, wasn’t about to let me off the hook that easily. “Wait, so it wasn’t always that way?”

I hesitated for a beat, then shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well.. back when we were in school, we might’ve had a little... thing. You know, one of those fleeting ‘we’re young and in New York’ flings. But it didn’t last long. Now, he’s definitely more of a brother figure.”

Blake’s eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as she burst out laughing. “Y/n! You never told me you and Chris had a fling!”

Ryan nearly doubled over in laughter, slapping the table. “Oh my god, Hugh, you hearing this? Captain America and y/n!”

Hugh laughed, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, glancing at me with a mix of amusement and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

Blake continued to laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed but laughing along with them. “It was a long time ago! And honestly, when we filmed that movie, it just felt... weird. I mean, trying to be sexy with someone who you now see as a brother? Not the easiest thing.”

Ryan wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “I bet those scenes were really uncomfortable to shoot.”

“They were." I admitted, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “But Chris was a total professional about it.”

Hugh remained quiet for a moment, still smiling, but I could tell something about the story didn’t sit quite right with him.

“So, what was it like studying here in New York? It sounds like it was a pretty wild time.” Blake wiggled with her eyebrows.

I grinned, thinking back to those chaotic, exciting days. “It definitely had its moments. The city was also back then a constant whirlwind. We were all broke, doing odd jobs between auditions, but somehow, it was the best time of my life.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. Was it all method acting and deep emotional discovery, or were you guys just trying to out-party each other?”

I laughed. “A little bit of both, honestly. There were definitely nights when we all showed up to class with way too little sleep.”

Ryan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And Captain America was part of those late-night adventures?”

I rolled my eyes. “Chris was usually the responsible one, believe it or not. He’d be the guy dragging everyone out of some dive bar at 2 a.m., telling us we had early classes. Of course, he wasn’t always that responsible...”

Hugh’s interest was piqued, his eyes twinkling. “You and Chris really went through it together, huh?”

I nodded, smiling at the memories. “Yeah, we had a lot of fun. We’d rehearse scenes together, mess around in the park, just being broke, and ambitious kids trying to make it.”

Ryan, never missing a beat, chimed in again. “So what you’re saying is, if Chris wasn’t Captain America, he could’ve been, I dunno, some Shakespearean actor, dragging everyone through intense rehearsals and then buying them all hot dogs afterward?”

I laughed. “Exactly! The perfect balance of intense and laid-back.”

"What other stories do you have up your sleeve?" Ryan grinned and put his arm around his wife.

“Well.. while studying, I also worked as a barista, and believe me, I was a terrible barista.” I started, chuckling at the memory.

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you worked at a coffee shop?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I needed to pay rent somehow, so I got a job at this little café near campus. It was my first day, and I was already a nervous wreck. The owner was this sweet, older man—kind of like a grandpa figure to everyone. But I was so jittery that when he came over to check how I was doing, I somehow managed to spill an entire tray of coffee and raspberry cake all over him.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, especially Ryan, who wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s priceless. What did he do?”

I grinned at the memory. “He just stood there for a second, covered in coffee, and then he started laughing. He looked at me and said, ‘Well, at least you didn’t burn me.’ From then on, he teased me about it every single shift. He’d walk past me and say, ‘Careful, y/n, hot beverages on the loose!’ It was actually really sweet.”

Blake smiled, shaking her head. “Sounds like he was a good guy.”

“Yeah, he was the best." I agreed. “Honestly, he was one of the reasons I stuck around for so long.”

Hugh, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a small smile. “Well, since we’re sharing job stories… the ladies might not know this, but before I became an actor, I was a P.E. teacher in England.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? You were a teacher? That’s crazy!”

Ryan immediately jumped in with a wide grin. “Oh man, y/n, can you imagine if Hugh had been your teacher back then? You would’ve been the star student in P.E., right?”

I felt my cheeks flush, laughing at the absurd thought. “Honestly, if Hugh had been my teacher, I think I would’ve suddenly developed an intense love for sports.”

Blake burst out laughing while Hugh chuckled, shaking his head at our comments. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that would’ve been appropriate,” Hugh said, still smiling, though his ears were a little pink.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, still grinning. “Hey, you never know. Maybe you’d have inspired her to get into, I don’t know, gymnastics or something.”

Blake swatted Ryan on the arm, but she was laughing just as hard. “Leave them alone! Besides, I bet Hugh was an amazing teacher.”

Hugh shrugged modestly. “It was a good job, honestly. I loved working with the kids, but eventually, I realized my passion was acting.”

I turned to him, still amazed. “That’s so cool, though. I would’ve never guessed. You’ve had quite the journey.”

He smiled warmly at me, and I could see a glimmer of pride in his eyes, as if the memories of his teaching days still meant something to him. “It was definitely a unique chapter in my life. But hey, everything leads you somewhere, right?”

Ryan couldn’t resist one more joke, leaning in with a sly grin. “Yeah, and luckily, it led you to us, huh?”

The conversation slowed down after that, everyone quietly soaking in the warmth of the room and each other’s company. Blake glanced around the table, then clapped her hands together.

“Well, how about we clear the table and grab some wine?”

Hugh and I immediately stood up, ready to help, but Blake waved us off. “Oh no, you two relax. Ryan and I have it covered.”

Ryan was already stacking plates and giving us a wink. “Yeah, sit tight, lovebirds.”

As we sat back down, Hugh placed his hand gently on my thigh, his touch making me feel all warm and cozy inside. He smiled at me, that tender look in his eyes that always made my heart skip a beat.

Feeling a bit giddy, I leaned in closer to him and whispered. “Do you think we should tell them about us now? Or wait until another time?”

Hugh’s thumb rubbed small circles against my leg as he considered it. “Yeah, let’s tell them. They’re our best friends—they should know we’re giving this a shot.”

His quiet confidence soothed the last of my nerves, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, just as the door to the dining room swung open, and Ryan strutted back in, carrying wine glasses.

“Ohohoh! What’s this? What did I just miss?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock shock. “And don’t forget, there are children in this house!”

Blake followed right behind him, her eyes darting between us, a curious smile playing on her lips. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, setting down a bottle of wine.

Hugh chuckled softly and glanced at me before addressing them both. “Actually, we wanted to tell you guys something. Y/n and I... well, we’re trying this thing out. We’re seeing where it goes.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Blake and Ryan exchanged looks, their expressions quickly morphing into wide grins. Blake let out a little squeal of excitement.

“Oh my god! You talked!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You two are adorable!”

Ryan set down the glasses with a loud clink, looking between Hugh and me with that signature playful grin of his. “Well, it’s about damn time! You guys have been giving off major will-they-won’t-they vibes for ages.”

Blake nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

Their support and enthusiasm washed over me, easing any lingering uncertainty I had. Hugh squeezed my hand under the table, and I couldn’t help but smile up at him, grateful for how effortlessly everything seemed to fall into place.

Ryan, never one to miss a joke, raised his glass toward us. “Here’s to y/n and Hugh—and to all the future awkward family dinners where we can tease you both relentlessly.”

Blake snorted with laughter, pouring everyone a glass of wine. “Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you. Sometimes.”

We all raised our glasses, clinking them together in a toast to new beginnings.

The conversation flowed easily as we all continued to drink our wine, sharing more stories and laughing until our glasses were empty. Eventually, we decided to join the kids in the living room. As soon as we walked in, Inez grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her pile of Barbies, while Penny and Baxter trotted over to greet us.

I sat on the floor with one hand helping Inez arrange her Barbies while my other hand stroked Baxter, who had curled up next to me. The rest of the group settled on the couches, chatting and laughing as the kids played around us.

We spent a while there enjoying the comfortable, laid-back atmosphere, but eventually, I felt a yawn escape me. Ryan noticed it immediately and pointed dramatically.

“Alright, I think it’s official—time for all the kids to head to bed!” he teased, earning a laugh from Blake and a chorus of giggles from the actual children.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I guess I walked right into that one.”

Blake stood up and stretched, signaling that the evening was winding down. “Yeah, we should probably wrap things up before we have to carry anyone out of here.”

We all said our goodbyes, exchanging hugs and thanking each other for the great night. As we stepped outside, Hugh and I found ourselves standing by our cars, lingering in the cool night air.

I smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening still lingering between us. “So, what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

Hugh shrugged lightly. “Not too exciting, honestly. I’m helping a friend with some work on his house in the morning, then I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and after that, I’m calling my brother to talk about my visit in Sydney to catch up with my family.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a busy day. Hometown huh?"

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone." he said softly, then smiled at me. “What about you? Plans with Chris?”

I grinned, the thought of seeing Chris again making me feel both nostalgic and excited. “Yeah, but we’re not meeting until the evening for a drink. Until then I'll call my parents because I promised them last week and after that I'll meet up with my management."

For a moment, we stood there, the air between us feeling charged in a quiet, tender way. After a small pause, we leaned into each other at the same time. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other hand found its way to my cheek. Our lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

When we pulled away, there was a comfortable silence between us, our eyes lingering on each other as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye just yet. I gently stroked my hands over his shoulders down to his chest.

“Well." I said, my voice a little softer than usual. "I guess I’ll see you soon. Good night."

Hugh nodded, his smile warm and easy. “Yeah, good night y/n. Text me when you're home."

"Will do." I smiled.

With that, we each got into our cars, and as I drove home, my mind wandered back to the evening—Blake and Ryan’s support, the kids, the laughter, the stories, and of course, the kisses. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time, and I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about tomorrow’s meeting with Chris.

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almostfoxglove · 1 month

Text

HOLD STILL

written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) PAIRING: Bodyguard!Dave York x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.4k CW: Dave's filthy mouth, pwp, smut (cockwarming, unprotected piv, creampie, sorta soft-dom!dave but really he's just bossy, sorta praise kink, a couple pussy pronouns don’t look at me), and one nonsense tense switch just for the hell of it I guess.

SUMMARY: On your last night together, Dave agrees to compromise.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

You want him, but he won’t fuck you. Not once, not even quickly, not even with just his hands. Dave York—ever stoic, unflinching—insists on doing his job and his job alone. And you, as he so enjoys reiterating, are not his job. Protecting you is.

For three weeks you’ve smothered the calendar hung on the kitchen wall with another red X each morning, whittling the days until you give your polished testimony and say goodbye to him for good. Now the court date looms heavy on the horizon—it’ll rise tomorrow with the sun.

In the meantime—these last, dwindling hours—you roam the grand rooms of an apartment rented for your protection, your anonymity, at the very skirt of the city where you’d surely have lost your mind if not for him. Stationed diligently at your side, hand never more than a twitch from the grip of his gun. So many hours spent alone you've memorized his form: how he looks scanning the curtained windows for any whisper of danger. How he's never complained when you choose cheesy reality shows from the TV guide. Teaching you how to play Spades with a deck of cards soft and worn—from his home, maybe, though you never ask—and letting you win the first hand, lips quirked when you call him out on it, then unapologetically wiping the floor with you for the rest of your isolation.

Yes, you know him, though only in image. Broad and sturdy, shirts each neatly ironed and squarely tucked. The hard line of his jaw and the fullness of his bottom lip. His hair always swept neatly from his face, even when you know he’s recently woken up. Never scruffy, never stubbled. Clean shaven and the smell of nice hotel shampoo.

It’s wrong, how you try to prod him to no avail. No matter your efforts, he says nothing of the way you adorn your body: lacy slips and satin sets at night, hugging silhouettes during the day, hair always done, lipstick never out of place even though you can’t leave the apartment or stand too near the windows. Dave is the only one who sees you, save for the days or hours when he leaves you his clumsy understudy to step down from his post.

He must know you do it for him.

It’s wrong, but you asked once, early on. Tonight?

And Dave’s mouth pinched into a flat, polite line. Unreadable, his face drained of its emotion. His declination drawled deep and heady, a voice that curled your toes and more than once kept you panting alone in your bed that’s not yours at all, just two doors away from his, fingers needy and swirling. No, honey. Not tonight.

Repeated in your mind until it warped like an overplayed tape.

No, honey.

Honey.

Not tonight.

Tonight.

Tonight, he is gone—your last together before the trial—leaving you in the hollow apartment with his proxy, stung. Same dark clothes, same holstered gun, same little piece nestled in his ear, but not half of what you want. You want Dave: a man as solid as he is driven, immutable as he is tempting. Assigned to protect you until you deliver the account that’ll send a monster away.

Perhaps you’ve liked the game—how he watches you, but never gives in—but now it’s lost its shimmer.

Lights dimmed for the evening, all black curtains drawn, the vaulted ceilings of the kitchen feel miles high as you perch on a barstool at the breakfast counter to stare at the calendar taunting you across the quiet room. Beyond the pristine halls you’ve lapped all day like an anxious dog, the city serenades you. Traffic squealing through streets, sirens singing in the distance, the occasional shout of someone walking by outside, eight floors below.

You are not, at night, permitted to part the curtains, lest someone get a glimpse of your illuminated face, but you long to open one now, see if Dave is out there, returning to your little castle turret one final time. Because it’s possible he won’t come back at all—that his coworker will escort you between lobby and truck, between truck and courthouse, between courthouse and whatever comes next. Maybe home. That you’ll never see Dave again, let alone throw caution to the wind and ask once more, tonight?

And then, just then, as your stomach begins to sink with disappointment, you hear the sudden crack of the front door unlocking and the creak of its surrender. You’ve conjured him, somehow, past the stroke of midnight. Then low, rumbled whispers, the unmistakable tone of Dave’s voice mumbling to his understudy. Your heart speeds as the door closes again and his stand-in retreats into the hall. How dizzying, the sound of locks settling into their rightful places, turned by Dave’s unerring hands.

When he appears in the dining room behind you, bomber jacket hanging from one arm, he tucks a tiny apology into the twitch of his lips—or maybe it’s meant to be a smile. “It’s late,” he says, as your eyes drink him in. Polished as ever, despite the hour, not a stitch out of place. “Should be in bed.”

You shrug, hoping you might appear indifferent. “Couldn’t sleep,” you say, aware of how the satin of your robe slopes off your shoulder with no intention of righting it.

Does something darken in his face then, or do you imagine it? You can’t be sure, not in this umbra, at this time of night. Jaw ticking, Dave strides cautiously toward the dining table, drapes his jacket over the back of one glossy chair, and sinks into the seat at the head of the sleek table, same as usual. A quiet kind of reign, his claiming this position, always, for every meal. He scratches his cheek, slips the gun from the holster at his belt to rest on the table, and as he leans back you indulge yourself—how can you not—in the slight buck of his hips as he shifts to stretch out his legs.

“Need your rest,” Dave chides softly. No edge to his tone.

Sighing before you can stop yourself, disappointed all over again as his gaze draws off you to the windows and drapes. On duty, still. On duty, always. Not you. Not tonight. “S’the last night,” you reply, staring at the calendar again. One little red X to go. “You weren’t here.”

Behind you, his deep and measured breath. The shiver of that unflappable restraint, you hope, but you don’t yet dare to look back. He might spook.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You don’t budge. Don’t move.

“You hear me?” Voice a little harder now, solidifying. When he speaks to you, you always look him in the eye—or you always have before.

Electric, your heart. Revving just a breath faster, just a hair harder, at the sound of him huffing in frustration. Your lips tick up in one corner, hidden, a secret meant only for you. When Dave says your name, your whole body purrs and you at last turn your head enough to let him glimpse your profile, still withholding your gaze.

“Pouting,” he scolds, this time meaning it. “That what this is?”

“Avoiding me,” you counter. “That where you were?”

Dave hmphs, darkness fading and softness returning to his tone. “Course not, honey.”

You look at him now, properly. Barstool spinning as you push off the counter to face him. Under the dusk of dimmed pendant lights over the dining table, Dave glows. In the time you’ve looked away, he’s unbuttoned his shirt one button lower than it’d been when he walked in.

One button lower than you’ve ever seen him wear before.

“Said I’m sorry,” he says again, head tilted. His foot comes out to nudge the leg of the chair beside his, angling it in your direction. “Come here.”

He means for you to sit, maybe play a hand of Spades, but as you slink off the barstool you have no intention of taking the seat. Warmth flushing in your chest, cool, conditioned air greeting your bare legs and collarbones, all the skin not covered by your sleekest sleep set. You swear he drinks the sight of you, for once, as you cross the kitchen toward him. Eyes dark not only from shadows, from the time. Or else you hope, as you come to a stop between Dave’s knees, that the way he’s not yet blinked means what you want it to.

Lips parting, a breath from speaking when you beat him to the punch and ask, “Tonight?” Your chin lowered and eyes searching his. It’s the last night. Might as well show your hand while you still can, before he slinks back into the underbelly of a city where you know he’s lived for years but you’ve never once glimpsed him, and not just because it’s busy.

Because invisible is what he’s paid to be, what he’s good at. Unseen until the fist of him is needed, the gun.

Pink striping his bottom lip, a swipe of his tongue, eyes boring into you. The slightest shake of his head, clean-shaven cheeks sharked in the shadow and golden light. “Honey.” Not a no, honey. Not a not tonight. Just honey, like you’ve imagined.

Emboldened, you caress of your fingertips across his shoulder, tracing the seam of his crisp, pale blue dress shirt. So handsome, always so handsome. A man who takes care of himself, who tidies and cleans without your needing to ask. Spotless, always. Reserved, always. Killing you, always, with every brush of his gaze.

You draw your fingers towards his shirt collar.

“Can’t,” says Dave, softer still. Breathy, almost. You pet the knife-cut of his pressed collar, the button just below it, and his Adam’s apple bobs slowly in his throat. Again, he shakes his head so slightly it looks more like a twitch. A reflex to say no. Not a desire to. “Can’t fuck you, honey. Wouldn’t be right.”

You bite your lip, brows drawing together, not lifting your hand from the button placket of his shirt. “Just tonight,” you breathe, and bat your eyes a little.

At last Dave’s dark eyes drop from yours, scanning the length of you above him with searing precision. Consideration. You slant your head to one side as his gaze slides back up, hesitating on your silk-draped chest, and you suck a sharper breath before it returns to meet yours. He cuffs your wrist with his hand to halt your teasing as he shakes his head once more, licking his bottom lip again with greater meaning. A glint in his eyes, lust finally flaring.

Pride swirls in your stomach, honeyed and wanting. Then he tugs you by the hips with such reflexes you hardly register the movement of his hands before you’re on him, straddling him in the chair, your thighs framing his hips. Held. Your robe fanning behind you, over his knees. Heart pounding dangerously close to a cardiac event.

Dave tsks softly, smirking when you whimper, trying to roll your hips over the heat of his crotch. Those careful, deadly hands lock them in a vice as he clicks his tongue. “Not gonna fuck you,” he murmurs, and you lean in to kiss him but he pulls his head away. “Not gonna kiss you either. Not right.”

You don’t care about right. Now you pout for real, forehead wrinkling, staring at his upturned lips. You feel the unmistakable twitch of him growing hard against you and your cunt throbs in reply, needy and slick. You try to wiggle again but Dave pinches your hips in warning. “Look at me,” he repeats, that edge to his voice that curls your toes, and your eyes snap to his.

“Good girl.”

You moan quietly, made liquid by the tender swipe of his thumb over the satin of your sleep shorts. Your eyes fluttering at such a tiny stroke, not even the meeting of skin.

“You can’t move, okay? Only allowed to sit.” When you don’t answer, too lost to the throb of his cock against your begging core, Dave pinches you again, voice gravelly in a way you’ve not heard before. “You hear me?”

Nodding, you hum. Can’t quite get out the word.

“Need to hear you, honey. Gonna hold still for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine, fighting your every instinct to grind down against him as you meet his lust-blown eyes. “Yes. Only allowed to sit.”

Dave puffs a hot breath out that sends a wake of goosebumps across your chest. “Good girl,” he coos, and your brows pinch at the praise. “Soaking me already, honey. Can’t sleep like this, can you? Just need to turn your brain off, hm?” The movement of his hips below yours is so slight you might imagine it, that tiny grind as his cock grows. You nod, whine softly, and both his thumbs stroke your hips gently before stilling again.

“Show me, honey.” So quiet. So little air between you, and yet too much.

You scan his face until he offers a small nod. Those brown eyes hooded by dark lashes, devouring you without need for the press of his mouth. It’d be soft, you’re certain. The caress of his lips. Maybe the rest of him is hard and deadly, but those would be tender, careful—they’d take you apart, breath by breath. With the same precision with which he darts between shadows and cleans his gun and beats you at cards and tucks your hair behind your ear when you’re falling asleep on the couch, he’d dissolve you kiss by kiss with a kind of grace.

It’s his lips on which you pin your gaze as you let one hand drift between your legs, dipping easily between silk and skin—your body made jelly so quickly and by so little contact, already wet. You pray you don’t imagine the sharpness of his breath when your knuckles accidentally graze against his slacks as you slip your fingers between dewy folds. Then: your hand rising in the dim light, shining, honeyed. Dave watching them, the corner of his mouth cracking just a little. Tensing into his cheek.

He grunts, good girl, and then he’s lifting you just enough to peel down the zip of his slacks, flick open the button, but when your eyes fall hopeful for a glimpse of him he tsks, hooks one finger beneath your chin to tilt your face up, whispers a soft eyes on me, honey as he pulls himself out where you can’t see.

As his knuckles brush against the wet gusset of your shorts, nudging them to the side. Finding no panties to move.

As the head of his cock—plush, warm, weeping—nudges against the ache of you, the thrum of your longing.

He grins, wicked.

Then pressure, a moan lost to the air you’re hardly conscious of and the stretch of him, the slow press in and the ache of your cunt swallowing his girth inch by inch. You whimper, eyelids shuddering like old film, catching only still frames of Dave’s expression as he lowers you gently, burying himself in your drooling heat until you come to rest at his base, flush and full.

So full. Light-headed, sparkling. Your hips must rock because he squeezes your waist. “Hold still, honey,” he coos. “Remember?”

The terms of his touch sounded alright just a breath ago, but now you can’t imagine how you ever agreed. How you’re supposed to stay still with him throbbing inside you like this, heavy and sweet, exactly what you need. A flicker in his eyes like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how he’s scrubbing out every thought in your head. Cocky, yes. But earning it.

“Dave,” you sigh, breathy and desperate. Your cunt clenching and squeezing and pushing out slick, probably ruining his slacks but he won’t let you look down, just tilts your head up gently every time it hangs slack. “Please.”

His breathing catches for a beat, then it’s steady again. “I know, I know,” he murmurs, keeping his finger under your chin to keep your eyes on him—but he hardly needs to. You’d swear the whole world drained away the second he slid into you. There’s nothing else past your bodies, past this one dining room chair. Everything else disappears like magic. The trial, the dread, the drone of city noise. The slow leak of your heart knowing this is goodbye—all of it. Gone.

You’d have sworn it impossible to come like this, with no movement at all, but you will. You do. And months from now—safe in the swaddle of your actual apartment that for weeks has stood hollow and dusty, plants withering sadly on their windowsills—you’ll lie in bed longing, missing, remembering. Trying to recreate the swipe of his thick thumb on your clit as you replay this moment in your head. How you whined, wanna take care of you when Dave still wouldn’t let you move, even when you were close, just swiped and swiped his thumb until you were something more than alive, transcending.

How his pupils had set ablaze with your whispered plea. How you’d realized that was the point, for him. The begging and the not giving in.

How he’d growled, “Taking care of you is taking care of me. You don’t think I’m gonna come the second this pussy strangles my cock? ‘Cause I am. S’all I need, honey, just give it to me—”

His voice the thunder to your body’s crackle and lightning.

“Let her take care of me, that’a girl, that’s it, just like that honey, she’s so tight—fuck—so fuckin’ tight around me, just squeezin’ me, gonna come when you do, pretty girl, let me have it.”

How it hit you like a white bolt of heat and light, every cell in you tense and flaming, then melting, boneless on his lap as he murmured sweetly, grunted, tried to lift you off him just in time and you’d finally, finally touched him—lucid in an instant, hands slammed down on the muscle of his shoulders. Mumbling amidst your aftershocks, inside, inside, inside. Eyelids stuttering again, back to picture frames as your cunt seized and begged in tandem.

The snarl of his upper lip.

His knotted jaw.

Tongue sucked against his front teeth, resolve crumbling.

The allowance granted to your hands to stay right there, fisting his shirt collar as his locked your waist in a bruising vice. His hips bucking only once, grinding the head of his cock deeper, deliciously, almost too good to take.

“Fuck, fuckfuck—yeah, that what she needs, honey? Needs me to fill her up?”

You’ll remember your own reply as you near a second-rate heaven in the nest of your duvet at home, all frantic hands and thrusting digits and eyes slammed shut, repainting him in your head. Golden in that gloomy light, hair straying out of position across his misted forehead for the first time. Yes. Please. Dave. Yes. Inside. Please—and his grunt, dark and sweet as caramel, as burnt brown sugar. That tiny grin dragging at his soft lips, pleased. You’d pleased him, surprised him maybe.

That can make you sparkle now, to remember.

“Okay, honey. Okay—shit—gonna give it to you, hm? Gonna give you all of it, baby—she’s squeezing me so goddamn tight, fuck, wanna stay here all night—”

Then the granting of a wish, the heat of him spilling into your cunt, the unmistakable slide of slick leaking between your thighs and onto his; you didn’t have to look to know. You could feel it, that wholeness overflowing. You can almost feel it now; three fingers might be a poor attempt at recreation, but you fall off the cliff all the same, his name on your tongue, a cry in the night, all the curtains dark and drawn as you come down breathless and drowsy, your whole body limp and spent as it’d been that night with him—when he’d tucked himself away and petted your hair back from your face, so gentle with you, cooing that you did so good, honey. Such a good girl. Gonna get you into bed now, hm? Need your sleep, honey. Come on.

Carrying you into your not-real bedroom, tucking you in so tenderly, like he hadn’t just taken you apart at the molecules. And Dave’s lips were just as plush as you’d imagined when they grazed your forehead, his big hand petting your cheek once more, then turning out the lights. That deep timbre whispering from the doorway, goodnight. The door clicking shut. All of it perfect. How you’d known you mattered more than a job for just one moment in time.

dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals <3

@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed

@burntheedges @la-eterna-enamorada29 @goodgirlwannabe @guiltyasdave @for-a-longlongtime

@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal

@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @jolapeno

@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours

@noisynightmarepoetry @clawdee

#dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york #dave york smut #pedro pascal #dave york x you #the equalizer 2 #dave york fanfic #au august #shortieswritingchallenge #punkshort #myfics #almostfoxglove #smut #one shot #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fic: holdstill #do not perceive me for 3-6 business days

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saltnsugarbear · 2 months

Text

take time and erase you

summary: after being betrayed by Carmy four years ago, you reunite with him at The Beef after Mikey's death.

title from: "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift ft. Kendrick Lamar

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: LOTS of swearing, mentions of Mikey's death, allusions to depression, reader is close friends with Richie

part two!

You knew Carmen Berzatto from your shared time with Chef Daniel Boulud. You two worked better together than any of the chefs in that kitchen, able to work around and with each other without having to talk. Moving around each other organically and clearly. You worked so well together you could stop each others future mistakes or work out a quick solution with just looks.

That was until the week Carmen started acting prickly. When he started to shoulder you out of the way and moved in ways that were so alien to your usual system.

And then he made a mistake.

And then he blamed it on you.

And then Chef Daniel gave you an ultimatum that you could leave yourself or be fired.

You "chose" to quit. You told Chef Daniel that when he gave you the ultimatum, put your stupid chefs hat on the counter and left without a glance at Carmy.

You sat in the alleyway going through half your pack of cigarettes, a habit you picked up from Carmen, when he found you. His whites were disheveled and he had lost his hat along the way.

He stopped when he saw you, sat up against the wall with your arms hanging over your knees and cigarette in hand.

"I'm sorry-"

"Fuck you." You spit out at the same time as him. The face he makes has you scoffing before you know it. "I dished up a plate with a known allergy and forgot to sub? Fucking really Carm?"

"I didn't, I didn't mean for you to get- for you to quit. I didn't think-"

"You're right, you didn't think. All you thought about was saving your own ass, Carmen." Using his full name has him flinching before he knows it. It's always been Carmy or Carm or Bear. Never Carmen, unless you were stressed or pissed.

And you were pissed.

You put out your cigarette beside you and then stand up, putting yourself in Carmen's space.

"I didn't- I'm sorry, I don't-" He looks at a complete loss, his own eyes searching yours.

"You can't fix this, Carmen. You made your bed, fucking lie in it." And with that, you push past him to walk out of the alley and into the New York night.

You hadn't seen Carmen Berzatto in the last four years and barely thought about him after two.

You moved back to Chicago and got a job in another kitchen. Despite it being dysfunctional beyond belief you loved your staff. They were loud and bustling and disjointed but they had so much life in them you hadn't seen in so long.

Coincidentally, the restaurant was spear-headed by Carmen's brother, Michael. Despite your differences with Carmen you found yourself getting on with Mikey. The difference between the brothers was astounding and you found yourself enjoying working with Mikey more than you had when you worked with Carmen.

You weren't even really in the kitchen, Michael had hired you to work register and front of house with Richie and Gary. It was a nice change of pace from being elbow deep in a dish.

You got to spend most of your day bantering with Richie and roping in the customers to your bit.

The two of you formed a bit of a front of house trio with Mikey. Before February, anyways.

Michael's death shook everyone at The Beef. No one had seen it coming, despite Mikey's recent spiraling.

His death hit Richie the hardest, after being childhood best friends and the closest you could get to brothers without blood.

You spent the following weeks afterwards going by Richie's place and making sure he got out of bed. You would take him home from work, sometimes spend the night and then make him breakfast in the morning.

You could have moved in with how often you were there with him. You helped him be presentable for Eva and got him through some of the more monotonous tasks.

Both of you going through that loss allowed the both of you to build a stronger relationship that really shown in front of house.

Until Carmen came home in June.

The moment you saw Carmen in the back office you turned yourself around and walked towards front of house, "Richie! What the fuck is in this office!?"

Richie pushes the door between front and back of house open and pops his head into the kitchen, "What's in the office, sweetheart?"

The rest of Richie's body followed as you point in the direction of the office, brows furrowed and mouth set in a frown.

"Oh shit," Was what came out of Richie's mouth and you turn to see Carmen in the office doorway with his hands on his hips.

"What the fuck is up, Cousin?" Richie walks past you to clap a hand on Carmen's shoulder and put an arm around him.

You cross your arms as you glare at Carmen, making your displeasure as obvious as possible.

Richie turns to you and gestures towards Carmen, "Sweetheart, this is-"

"I know who he is, Richie. What is he doing here?"

Carmen decides to pipe up then, "Y'know I can fuckin' hea-"

"Shut the fuck up, Carmen." You turn your glare on him and he closes his mouth.

"Oh, shit," Richie giggles and jostles Carmen by his shoulder. "Cousin, the fuck did you do to piss 'em off? I didn't even know you two knew each other."

You turn back to Richie, your glare weakening, "Of course you knew, Richie. I just never talked about him because he was a backstabbing asshole."

Carmen decides to open his mouth again and say, "You know that's not-"

You turn back on the man beside Richie, "Not what, Carmen? Not what happened? How would you explain what happened? Because I would love to hear how you would describe it."

Richie whistles before Carmen can answer and pats him on the shoulder again before letting him go. "You must've really fucked up, Cousin. Never seen 'em this upset before."

Richie walked past you to front of house and you followed him, putting as much distance between you, the office and Carmen.

"Is that gonna be a problem?" Richie leveled with you when he reached the counter.

"If he stays in the kitchen, no, it won't be." you respond.

And Richie leaves it at that.

And it wasn't an issue for the first two weeks.

Sure money had been tighter but it had been since before Mikey passed. Richie just wanted to blame the money issues on Carmen, instead of tainting the memory he still had of Mikey.

When the third week of Carmen returning to The Beef came around, tensions were high. Tina and Ebra weren't used to the change in pace and system, finding it hard to work with the emotional whiplash of mourning Michael and wanting to strangle Carmen.

The third week brought Sydney Adamu, who looked at Carmen with stars in her eyes. you had heard her talking about his accomplishments and you could see the idol pedestal she had put him on.

You walked in with Richie, after picking him up from Eva's recital. You let him beeline his way to Tina and Ebra to recount the event as you put your coat in your locker and exchange it for your apron.

You spot Sydney floating around the kitchen, collecting ingredients from the walk-in and pantry. She moved with a grace you hadn't felt in so long and had a concentration many would envy.

She was perfect, to be truthful.

"Chef," you turn your gaze on Carmen, face blank. "You're late."

You roll your eyes and tie your apron around your waist. "Well, Chef, I'm not kitchen staff. And we don't have service for another two hours."

"It doesn't matter when we open. We need to capitalize-"

"Capitalize on my fucking dick, Carmen." The look of shock on his face makes you want to laugh. "I'm front of house, you don't need me for your prep. Two hours is more than enough time to get the restaurant ready for service, when I don't have a child whining in my ear about my supposed tardiness."

Carmen puts his hands on his hips, making his stance wider.

"Now, if you could move, I have shit I need to go do. Chef."

Carmen looks at you for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Okay, go, chef."

You roll your eyes at him and slide past him to the door between the front and back.

"Chef, can you stay for a minute?" When Carmen stands in the doorway of the office while you're grabbing your bag, you want to throw one of the lockers at him. You make a show of sighing and then take a deep breath.

"Richie!" You see Carmen flinch in your periphery from the raised volume in your voice.

"Sweetheart!" Richie calls back from front of house.

"Carmen's keeping me hostage! Go have a cigarette or something!" You pause and wait to hear his response, tilting your head towards the door.

"Yes, chef!" You wait to hear the front door open and close before you motion for Carmen to go into the office.

"How long are you going to stay pissed off at me?" Carmen is settled against the edged of the desk, his arms crossed.

You sigh. "Well, Carmen, I lost my job because of you. Which thoroughly fucked up my whole life. So, I'd say it's valid to be pissed off for the rest of your lifetime."

"I apologized. I- I don't know what else you want?" Carmen gestures with one hand, waving it before moving to rub at his top lip. A nervous habit he's still kept.

"An apology doesn't fix what you did, Carmen. You used me as a scapegoat-" You adjust your stance and cross your arms over your chest.

"I don't know what you want me to do. Or- or say."

"Nothing, Carmen!" You gesture expansively and straighten up, "There is nothing you can do or say that will change the fact you massively screwed me over to save yourself."

Carmen's eyes are wide and searching your own.

"So, own your shit, Carmen. Quit acting like you didn't know what you were doing. And quit digging up old bones and expecting me to feel bad for you. You're not a child, quit throwing the blame off yourself." Your voice had gotten quieter and more neutral as you spoke. You've pictured this argument before and it's much exhausting then you thought it would be.

You put your hands on your hips, thinking that's the end of it before Carmen speaks up again.

"I need you to respect me, then. I- I can't have you mouthing off to me, or- or fucking showing up late. Because how am I supposed to- t'get the respect of the rest of my staff when I have someone treating me like I'm- I'm a fucking joke." He's placed the hand he gestured with on the desk and you can see him resting some of his weight on it.

"Then earn my respect, Carmen. Work for it."

Carmen furrows his brow and stands up straighter, no longer leaning on the desk. "What? What- what does that even mean?"

"It means," you punctuate this by getting in his personal space. In a few steps you'd be chest to chest with him. "Work for it. You don't get my respect just because you took over. You earn that shit, you know that."

Carmen is silent as he studies your face, eyes searching yours.

"And don't try making this like those other kitchens. It's not going to work, you'll break them or they'll break you. My money's on them." You watch his face before adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Now, if we're done here, I need to get Richie home. It's past his curfew."

Carmen rolls his eyes at that and you can see the slight tug at his lips that he is fighting. "Go home, chef."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself." You reply as you turn around and walk out of the office. On your way through the front of house and outside, you fish out your pack of cigarettes. Once you're out the door you're lighting a stick before jamming the pack in your pocket and turning to corner down the street.

Richie is standing by the boot of your car, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other scrolling through his phone. When he spots you he slides his phone into his front pocket.

"What did he want?" He holds his hand out for you cigarette and you pass it to him to fish out your keys.

"Planning the menu for dinner with your mom." You reply, pushing the button to unlock your car.

"Oh hardy-har-har. Very funny." Richie stubs the stick out on the sole of his boot and hands you the dead stick.

"Get your ass in the car or you're walking home, Germ." You look at him as you open the driver's door and get in behind the wheel.

"You wouldn't do that to me, sweetheart." Richie scoffs as he gets in the passenger side.

"Maybe I would." You look at him as you turn the key in the ignition. Richie huffs again and looks out the window, leaving the two of you to drive with only the music making noise.

#saltnsugarbear #not enough sugar #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto imagine

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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months

Text

WHO’S YOUR DADDY?

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 2,7k

Part 2 of Table for Three (can be read alone)

Summary: Joel Face Times you.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm (kinda), not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, m!oral, f/m masturbation, cum eating, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetie). Pics are for the mood only, reader has hair, but no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I saw that video and had to write this. Pedro is such a menace! Warm hugs to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b❤️Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Hope you’ll like it! Love you all😘

Pt 1 TABLE FOR THREE || GET A TASTE || MASTERLIST

“Who’s your daddy?”

“Fuck off, Joel, you know it’s not you.”

Joel is Face Timing you while you’re still lying in bed in the early afternoon after a night of passionate fucking with your boyfriend Dave.

You are surprised by your ex’s call but can’t deny that after last week when you sucked him off at a restaurant, meanwhile sitting on Dave’s cock, the surprise is pleasant.

Joel’s in his bedroom, judging by the background, and he looks so hot, you immediately gush. His hair is slicked back, chocolatey eyes sparking with mischief and his five day stubble is calling to be rubbed against your pussy.

“Yeah, I know Dave’s your dom daddy now. Is he with ya?”

“Dom daddy,” you snicker, rolling your eyes, “you watch too much porn, Joel.”

“Yeah, ya think I’m beating my own meat every day, cryin’ over you, babe?

“Aren’t you?”

You both stare at each other but Joel cracks first as a smile tugs at his lips and you both laugh. After a few moments you remember the question he asked.

“Dave’s in the kitchen. Why are you calling? I thought you had me blocked. Or vice versa.”

“Well, i reckon, none of us could say ‘goodbye’”.

“Oh, I can now. Bye, Joel!”

“Wait, wait, baby,” he gruffs hastily through the phone speaker, stopping you from hanging up.

“What?”

“I need to ask ya somethin’. ‘s important”. He narrows his eyes, his expression is serious.

“What is it?”

Joel’s squinting at you for a few seconds while you’re taking in his combed back curls, his handsome tanned face, broad shoulders under a plaid shirt. Every time he talks, his voice makes your pussy tingle, sounding even sexier through the phone. Finally he breaks the silence.

“What are you wearin’?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re an asshole, Joel.”

“I’m just a man in love.”

You giggle, raising your brows and shaking your head in disbelief.

“You hated me a few days ago.”

“I did, baby. But I let the past go.”

You take a deep breath, feeling your guilt for what you did years ago slightly lifted off your heart.

“So?” He presses.

“I’m not telling you, Joel.”

“Ok, then just show me.”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Your eyes dart to the door where you hear Dave, making breakfast for you two. You don’t think he would mind you flirting with your ex a little, considering he let you give the older man a handie in front of him. Besides, you look very cute in your sexy nightie with nothing else underneath so you change the angle of the phone so Joel could peek at your body, splayed on the bed, a blanket covering just a part of your leg.

You hear a whistle and your heart sings.

“Pretty, babygirl. Did he buy it for ya?”

“He did,” you reply with defiance in your voice.

“‘s he rich?”

“Dave’s doing fine. But I’m with him not because of money if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Ain’t implying anythin’.”

Then you just look at each other as the air in the rooms gets heavier and a light flirting morphs into something else. Joel breaks the silence first.

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

You haven’t expected that and suddenly your throat gets squeezed with emotions.

“Thank you, Joel,” you say softly.

“Who are you talking to?”

Dave walks into the room with two mugs of coffee and the aroma quickly fills the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray tee and a pair of sweatpants.

“Joel’s FaceTiming me.”

“Joel?” Dave repeats with his brows raised.

He puts the coffees on the nightstand and lies down next to you and your mouth waters as his scent engulfs you.

You shift the position of the phone so Joel could see you both and Dave greets your ex.

“Joel says that he’s happy for me,” you tell your boyfriend with excitement in your voice.

“Oh, thank you, Joel. I’m glad that you two solved your past issues.”

“Her apology really helped, man. I wouldn’t say no to another one though.”

Joel winks at you and Dave smirks, “I understand. She’s very good at apologizing.”

Your eyes are darting between the two men. You can’t shake the feeling of wanting them both and your pussy tingles with desire. Dave’s body pressed to yours sends a surge of arousal to your core and you feel the cold air of the room on your bare wet folds and shiver with excitement. Joel is making you even hornier. He looks hot and masculine with his slightly wet hair. He must have had a shower.

For a second you remember how he made you squirt for the first time. On his knees in the shower in front of you he licked at your pussy and sucked your clit until your legs started trembling but he didn’t stop and began pumping his thick fingers into you, curving them and pushing on that sweet spot in your burning core. In no time you were spraying your juices everywhere, his hand squelching against your folds as he was repeatedly hitting your clit with the heel of his palm. Only your hands on his broad shoulders helped you not to collapse on the floor.

“Kitten!”

Dave calls you, not for the first time apparently, and you blink at him trying to shake the images of the past that were occupying your mind just a second ago.

Joel laughs, “Babygirl, were you thinking of us just now?”

“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes from both of them.

“You’re lying,” Dave says, not asking, and you see his gaze darken. It’s filled with curiosity and lust.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I—I just,” you stutter, looking at one man and then the other.

“It’s ok, kitten. You two had a past. Daddy wants to know.”

You swallow loudly and reply, “I was remembering—.” It’s so quiet in the room. “—how Joel made me squirt for the first time.”

Joel’s smug grin can be seen from fucking space. He looks sickeningly proud of himself and you immediately regret telling them.

Dave smiles carnally, as if he was waiting for that, and asks,

“How did it happen?”

“In the shower. He ate me out and fingered me.”

Dave turns his face to your phone and asks Joel, “Did you plan on doing it?”

“Yeah, I wanted her to squirt all over me. Does she squirt with you?”

“Yes, she’s a talented girl. Thank you for giving her her first time,” your boyfriend says to your ex and you’re afraid that you’re going to soak through your nightie. But Dave doesn’t give you a respite.

“Kitten, say ‘thank you’ to Joel.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you purr obediently and the older man winks at you through the screen.

“You’re welcome, babygirl.”

You see Dave adjust himself and notice that his prominent bulge has grown even bigger since he joined you two on the bed. He’s enjoying Joel’s call just as much as you are.

Not being able to wait any longer, you get closer to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder. With your big eyes looking up at him, batting your lashes the way you know makes his cock twitch, you ask,

“Can we fuck, daddy?”

You hear Joel curse under his breath and then groan. It’s clear that he wishes to be here with you.

“It’s a little rude, baby,” Dave chides you, “We haven’t finished talking to our friend, have we?”

You whine, pouting your lips and he turns to you and pecks your nose.

“How about you put your pretty mouth on my cock and I’ll talk to Joel.”

You hear Joel’s half chuckle-half grunt and almost drool at the suggestion and swiftly reply with an ‘ok, daddy.”

Then you give Dave your phone and climb down the bed, getting comfortable between your boyfriend’s legs, your head hovering over his huge bulge.

“We can talk, Joel, but maybe you’d like to watch as well?”

You don’t see your ex but you know his eyes are obsidian with lust right now.

“Fuck, yeah. Show me what our— your little slut is up to.”

Dave presses the reverse camera button and positions it with his big hands so Joel can see you perfectly.

By now you have already freed Dave’s semi hard cock and it twitches as you’re holding it inches from your lips. You smile at the camera and give Joel a wink.

“Show daddies what that mouth’s good for,” Joel encourages you and Dave smirks, “You’re right. Sucking cock is truly her calling.”

Eager to prove them right you wrap your hand around the base of Dave’s cock tighter, open your lips and circle them around the fat head.

Your boyfriend bucks his hips, impatient to slide his whole length into your mouth, but you decide to give them both a show so you lick a wet languid stripe from the base of Dave’s cock to the weeping tip, covering the underside with your warm saliva.

Then you kitten-lick the slit, gathering his clear precum, and a moan escapes your lips at the taste, as you flutter your eyes shut.

“Shit, Dave, ya lucky bastard.”

“Her mouth is fucking heaven, Joel. Baby, show our friend what you can do to daddy’s balls.”

You smile and nod, before lowering your head. Your hand is still holding Dave’s cock but your tongue is now licking at your boyfriend’s balls, and you tilt your head to get a better angle.

“Fuck, babygirl. Doin’ real good,” you hear Joel’s praise, followed by a sound of a zipper.

Your ears immediately perk up and you ask, parting from Dave’s balls for a moment,

“Joel, are you gonna jerk off?”

“‘m afraid so, sweetheart. If Dave doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t, Joel,” Dave says, his half lidded eyes shifting between you, gliding your cheek against his cock, and the man on the screen, “let’s see if this little slut can make two men come. A bit of a challenge for my kitten.”

You purr at his words, feeling your heated pussy ache with need and pressing your thighs together.

“Can I touch myself, daddy?” You ask as impatience paints your words.

“Not yet, baby. Work my balls a little more and maybe I’ll let you come.”

The hope is all you need so you get back to Dave’s heavy balls and start sucking on them, licking the seam and then open your jaw wide to take one in your mouth. As you’re rolling it with your tongue, you hear Joel’s growling and the sound of him fucking his fist.

Dave’s eyes are set on your lips wrapped around his ball but from time to time his gaze flicks to the phone where Joel is pumping his cock and you moan at the fact that the image of your ex, pleasuring himself turns on your boyfriend.

Dave’s dominant, always controls the situation, but you’ve noticed that he loves seeing what you do to other men, how much you affect them. You suspect that’s one of the reasons why he loves such a giant slut like you.

“Ok, kitten, get to the main course,” Dave commands and you part from his ball with a pop so you could give his cock your full attention.

Through the squelching sounds coming through the speaker you hear Joel encouraging you,

“Yeah, deepthroat that cock, babygirl. Still can’t forget how good you could swallow me. Remember, sweetie?”

You slightly nod with your boyfriend's tip already breaching your puffy lips. You unhinge your jaw and slowly take him all in, soon nuzzling his trimmed hair. Dave groans and clenches your hair with a tight grip, gently rolling his hips to help you swallow him.

“That’s my good girl. Take everything I give you. Make daddy proud.”

Your throat contracts around your boyfriend’s cock while the fap-fap-fap noises, coming from the phone, are getting faster.

“Fuck, Dave, are we gonna come at the same time?”

Dave chuckles as his dark eyes almost close with pleasure.

“Yeah, I’m gonna feed it to her soon. Get ready.”

“Let’s do it, man,” Joel almost moans.

“You too, kitten. Play with your little pussy. Bet it’s so messy right now.”

You take Dave’s cock out of your mouth and croak, “Thank you, daddy.”

To give them both the best view, you lift your ass in the air, getting on your knees, and the bottom of your nightie slides down to your waist. Now Dave and Joel can see your naked ass as a background of the blowie. Your hand slithers to your pussy and your fingers dip between your folds. Dave’s right — you’re dripping like a faucet.

You easily insert two fingers into your hole as your mouth swallows Dave’s cock again. You start plunging your digits in and out of your warm cunt, slightly rolling your hips while your head bobs as you’re massaging Dave’s manhood.

The groans of your boyfriend and your ex fill the room, mixing with your muffled moans and whimpers.

Dave’s leaking a lot into your eager mouth and you know he’s close.

“Fuck, if I was there with ya, we’d fuck all your holes, babygirl,” Joel grunts, his teeth clenched, as he’s probably trying not to bust his load just yet.

“Would you take her ass or her pussy, Joel?” Dave asks and your cunt clenches around your own fingers.

“You’d share her with me like that?” Joel asks.

“I’m a generous host, Joel. You can choose.”

“I’d fuck her pussy, pal. I miss it more than anything. She’s sloppy all the fucking time. Loved her sweet cunt.”

“‘k, I’d be fine with the ass. I work her open fast now. She sometimes wears a plug. Pretty little toy. We’ll show you one day.”

“Be happy to see it.”

Your ex and your boyfriend’s discussion about fucking your holes like you’re their mindless fuck toy is the final drop in a full glass of your pleasure and you overflow with ecstasy as your pussy spills squirt all over your hand, between your thighs and on the bed under you while you’re moaning loudly around Dave’s cock.

The vibrations of your throat and your euphoric expression makes him explode too and he satisfies your thirst, spurting his cum down your throat. Dave gives you so much, you almost choke on his thick load but swallow it swiftly again and again.

“Fuck yeah, babygirl, drink it up,” Joel groans, probably seeing the creamy seed, seeping out of the corners of your lips, and makes a loud grunt, the sound so familiar and dear to you.

You know he’s coming.

The noises from the speaker get wetter and you regret not being able to taste your ex too.

When you take everything Dave gives you, you pull your mouth away from his cock and rest your head on his hairy thigh, catching your breath and licking your puffy lips.

“You did it, kitten. You made us both come. And at the same time,” Dave praises you, gently patting your head, and you purr, closing your eyes with satisfaction. Your body is pleasantly tingling after a great orgasm.

“Can I talk to her, Dave?” you hear Joel’s tired voice and lift your head up.

“Of course,” Dave turns the screen to you and you see your ex’s face on the screen, cheeks redder than before, his eyes hazy. He smiles at you warmly and rasps,

“Thank you, babygirl. I enjoyed the show. Now I need another shower,” he laughs and you and Dave both follow.

“Ok, Joel, was good talking to you. Among other things,” Dave says, turning the phone back at him, “We should meet. We have a lot to discuss. And share.”

“Yeah, Dave. Any time.”

The promise of them both fucking you makes your pussy tingle again and you bite your lip, already daydreaming about it.

Dave hangs up and throws your phone on the bed.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. You did great. Now go get your prize and sit on daddy’s face. Let me clean this messy pussy.”

You almost squeal with excitement, immediately following his order.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!💖🌺

Table for Three || Get a Taste || Masterlist

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