#but as others have mentioned let’s remember that authors don’t usually get to pick their covers

[othramblings]

Instagram is imploding over speculation that Hilarie is beefing with Joy over Joy’s memoir cover reveal today

How are y’all doing

[multicohn]

summary: fans don’t like lando’s new girlfriend because how scary and emotionless she looks, but he could care less.

warnings: mention of fans not liking the reader

pairing: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: fluff, short one shot, established relationship

face claim: none

author note: lowkey kinda sucks. i don’t have much motivation to write rn but i wanted to upload something 🥲

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the couple had only been dating for only eight months before lando decided to reveal his girlfriend to the public. y/n had no problem with keeping it a secret since they were both unsure if their relationship would even work given the busy schedules they had, but through a lot of communication they managed to make it work. however, fans weren’t very happy since y/n always looked emotionless or angry on screen and in photos despite lando having a giant smile on his face that could rival all might’s ( my hero academia reference ) when he’s beside her. his fans were very vocal about how they felt about her, but neither of them cared.

the british grand prix was only a few days away and ever since they started dating, lando had dreamed of having her being by his side. however, y/n ( had exams that weekend / couldn’t get time off work ). he tried not to show that he was upset, brushing it off with a simple; "well, there's always next year", but y/n knew him too well and knew how much this race meant to him. any other race would have been understandable, but this was the british grand prix.

when lando arrived on thursday, he was immediately greeted by cameras, microphones, and merchandise being shoved at him from every direction.

"you look a little down, lando. not a fan of the weather?" it was quite cloudy that day and the rain was starting to pick up, but it was far from the reasoning behind his mood

"just didn't get a good sleep"

"oh?"

y/n had gone to bed much earlier than usual, saying she needed all the energy she possibly could for tomorrow. lando inquired about what was so important, but she refused to tell him. he had stayed up last night and wondered about what was happening; was her exam worth much more than he realised? / did her job have a special work thing going on that he doesn't remember?

lando sighed deeply as he made his way inside the hospitality area. his hand itching to grab his phone and text y/n despite knowing that she would be busy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n had lied.

she knew how much this race in particular meant to lando and she wasn’t going to miss it, but the thought of surprising him made her lie about school / work.

unfortunately, her plan slightly backfired as she was going to surprise lando when he finished his practice session, but the weather delayed everything.

shrugging it off, y/n entered the garage to find her boyfriend dressed in his race suit with a windbreak over top and looked to be dozing off in a chair.

“lando” y/n tapped his shoulder gently as she sat down beside him

“oh, hey baby” he commented while staring at her sleepily

. . .

he suddenly shot out of his chair making those around them jump in fright at the sudden movement.

“y/n?” lando rubbed his eyes. sure that his brain is still asleep and making him hallucinate

“yeah?”

“am i dreaming?” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the tv where they were showing fans who were in colourful ponchos or raincoats

she almost laughed at seeing someone’s poncho decorated with george russell’s face.

however, all emotion left y/n's eyes as her face popped up on the screen before it shifted towards lando who was just dazing at her lovingly.

if they were in a cartoon, his eyes would've been hearts.

she heard some people let out “awes” and they started cooing at the couple making the edges of y/n's lips twitch upwards. she turned to her boyfriend and placed a hand on his cheeks before caressing softly.

once they were no longer on screen, y/n leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend gently.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[323cutie]

your skin is against my body. | jyh

pairing ୨୧ yunho x afab reader

word count ୨୧ 650

genre ୨୧ smut asf!!!!!!

warnings ୨୧ sexual content, swearing <3 smut warnings below the cut

author's note ୨୧ i have had a bad week (it is wednesday morning). So yes i need yunho to comfort me. anyways i finished this last night but was too tired to post it LMFAO

18+ mdni!!

smut warnings ୨୧ fingering, dirty talk, a bit of banter i think, choking but its pretty light, mentions of like actual sex but we don't get there sawrry, teasing yunho, a little bit of begging, you guys know that live where yunho said he liked when ppl whined his name. Yeah

You’ve had a bad day.

You made it obvious to all of your coworkers, yelled at just about every other car on the way home, considered killing your roommate because they took your apartment’s reserved parking spot when it was your turn to have it, and were curt with the boba cafe worker you’re usually more than friendly with.

You’re not proud of yourself. But you are tired. And sick of dealing with it all. So when you get to Yunho’s and he almost immediately offers to cheer you up, you agree with zero hesitation.

It’s probably (definitely) how you ended up with his hand between your legs.

Maybe you should have seen it coming. You don’t really care, either way. Yunho’s fingers feel like heaven inside of you, pumping and curling and twisting in all the most delicious ways. You sigh when he curls them up, head lolling back and to the side, landing on his shoulder from where he lies down next to you.

“When you said you’d make me, hmm, feel better,” you start, letting him nudge your head to the other side with his nose. He presses open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. “Wasn’t expecting – fuck – this.”

Yunho hums, lips tracing the shell of your ear. “Oh?” He says, speeding up the pace of his fingers. You moan and practically feel him grin. “I can stop, if that’s what you want.”

He starts to slow down to an almost stop and you grab at his wrist, trying to guide his hand back to the pace it was before. “Don’t you dare,” you say, glaring at him. He laughs, kisses your temple soothingly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, picking up his pace again. His other hand wraps loosely around your neck, just enough pressure to make you keen. “Gotta make my baby feel good, hm?”

You nod eagerly and Yunho laughs, fond, obeying to your silent pleas and gliding his thumb over your clit. You gasp, melt into his arms, spread your legs wider so he has all the room in the world to do whatever he wants to you. 

“Look so pretty when you’re spread open for me like this,” Yunho murmurs, adding more pressure to the way he circles your clit. “Had such a bad day, just need it fucked out of you, right? Just need to be taken care of?” 

You don't know what sounds come out of your mouth, but you’re almost certain they’re not words. Yunho curls his fingers up inside of you, hitting a spot only he can reach, and you feel your whole body react. Pliant in his hold, moldable however he sees fit. The hand around your neck squeezes a warning. “Use your words, pretty.”

Oh, right. You can’t even think. “Y-Yeah,” you say, voice strained, breathless. “Need you to fuck me.”

You hear him hum and look up at him, hoping your already fucked out eyes will add a little something extra to your plea. “Yunho,” you whine, canting your hips up to meet his fingers. “Please.”

You see his breath physically hitch, watch as something swirls in his eyes as he looks at you. His cheeks and nose are red and you want to run your fingers through his hair, want to peel every article of clothing off just so you can see all of him.

Maybe you’ll get to soon. Yunho presses forward and kisses you hard, tongue delving into your mouth and tasting your own. You moan onto his lips and he practically mirrors it, letting his own noises out. His fingers move faster, thumb circling tighter, and you squeal.

“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll only remember my name,” he murmurs lowly. He curls against that spot again and you feel like you’re falling apart. “But you’re gonna cum on my fingers first.”

[jobean12-blog]

Slow Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 3,002

Summary: Joel picks you up (sorta rescues you) and your attraction to him is instant even with the state of the world, but does he feel the same?

Author's Note: Honestly, my friend @lizette50 shared the gif below with me and just his hands on that steering wheel sparked 3k words of nonsense. I'm not only obsessed with his neck but also his hands (and the rest of him!) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 💕

Warnings: there's some tension- both sexual and other, softness, grumpy Joel, flirting

The gif below is from pinterest HERE

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The sound of tires on the road draws your attention from your hiding spot but when they skid to a stop you stay in your unseen position and sneak a look. You can never be too careful and staying hidden and quiet has been an essential part of your survival so far.

But all your rational thoughts drain and every muscle in your body coils tightly as you lay eyes on the man that steps out of the old truck.

Before anything else registers, you notice the way he moves. His long, thick legs carry him surely toward the nearest broken-down car and when he bends over to check the gas tank you get a glimpse of his ass in the tight jeans.

With a huff of frustration he straightens and walks toward another car, this one closer to you, and you can see the hard set of his jaw, his eyes much the same as they scan his surroundings.

You can’t stop your gaze from tracking down over his broad shoulders and wide chest.

Without remembering to keep quiet you shift to get a better look and accidentally knock into a rusty metal part, sending it careening down to the pavement with a loud clang.

His gun is out and cocked before you even register your error and with shaky hands you stand up and reveal yourself.

He locks eyes with you across the small space of separation and you have the satisfaction of watching his shoulders relax and his eyes slowly peruse you from head to toe. Perhaps it was merely to check if you were armed…or infected…or maybe he just wanted to look.

Either way, it sets your nerve ends tingling and when his gaze lingers, warmth races across your skin.

“I’m not a threat,” you say, squaring your shoulders but keeping your arms and hands high above your head.

He still doesn’t speak and keeps the gun trained on you, his expression wary.

“I promise. I’m just trying to get to Jackson.”

At the mention of Jackson, his eyes narrow and he steps closer. You don’t budge.

“How do I know you’re not infected?” he asks.

“Well, I’m all alone and have been for days. I’d let you check me out but we just met…usually I have a man at least take me out to dinner first.”

Your joke gets the opposite reaction you hoped for. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind under the pressure.

“I do need a ride though.”

You lower your hands, smoothing them over your hips and brushing the dust from your knees.

“That is, if you don’t mind me bumming one.”

Your hope starts to slip with his extended silence.

He finally drops the gun and pinches the bridge of his nose.

You slowly walk forward and extend your hand to introduce yourself. He stares at it for a moment before taking it in his larger one.

“Joel,” he rumbles.

“You wouldn’t leave a girl stranded, would you Joel?”

“Fine. Get movin’.”

You slide a glance across the console of the rattling old pick-up truck and watch him under the cover of your lashes. He hasn’t looked at you once since loading you into the vehicle, instead keeping his dark eyes glued to the road, jaw still tight with obvious tension.

You were sure you caught him giving you another once over when you bent down to sift through your bag but by the time you felt his stare and peeked his way he was muttering something incoherent and running a rough hand through his hair.

“So…” you start, turning his way slightly. “How long is the ride?”

He shoots you a look that says, “are you serious?”

“Shouldn’t take us more than a day.” He grinds his teeth, something you’ve come to notice he does often, and lifts his eyes to the rearview mirror. “Long as we don’t run inta any trouble.”

“I see…” You cross your legs, hoping to appear relaxed. “Maybe we’ll see something cool on the way.”

His bushy eyebrows shoot up to his hairline but he doesn’t grace you by meeting your eyes when he asks, “ever been to Wyoming?”

You’re surprised silence keeps you quiet for longer than you mean to be and you see his hands flex on the steering wheel.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me any questions.”

He sends you an unamused look. “Ain’t one for much talkin’ these days.”

You nod in understanding but don’t hide your smile. “And no, I haven’t. But I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“What do you plan on doin’ when we get there?”

With a shrug you turn to look out the window, tracing your finger down a smear of dirt on the other side of the glass.

“Help out of course…and I was hoping I could do some planting. You know grow food…or something like that...breed animals…farm?”

Your thoughts trail off as you realize how silly and inadequate your plan sounds but you turn when you feel the heavy weight of his stare and realize he’s studying you.

“You know you should keep your eyes on the road,” you say with a half-hearted smile.

He stares for a beat longer before turning his attention back to driving.

“Yeah because there’s so many other cars out here.”  

You gasp. “He makes a joke? Pull over, I think I’m feeling dizzy.”

He merely grunts in reply but you’re sure you catch the side of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“What do you plan on growin’? The weather can be pretty harsh in the winters.”

“Do you really want to know?”

He frowns at the windshield.

You let out a yielding sigh and start to rattle off a list.

“I dunno…I was thinking maybe…mangoes, bananas, pineapple! Oh kiwi!”

At his dark look you smile brightly to assure him you’re joking.

“Very funny.”

“About time you noticed.”

His gaze turns from the road back to you, raking down your body and back up to meet your face.

“Oh, I noticed sweetheart.”

The interior of the truck suddenly becomes too hot and you start to crack the window for some fresh cool air.

You try your best to settle into the seat and focus on the rush of the scenery, letting the tension filled silence stretch until he speaks again.

“What are you thinkin’ about over there?”

Unsure of where to take the conversation after that unexpected turn, you fall back on your humor.

“Kiwis..and mangoes and bananas..”

This time you see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a genuine smile and you cheer inwardly.

His hand relaxes on the steering wheel before tightening again, long fingers wrapping easily around the worn leather as he slowly slides along the curve, the action drawing your attention and holding it.

His hands are big, dwarfing the wheel with rough and calloused fingers. Your thoughts quickly drift away from tropical fruits and fill with the fantasy of how it would feel if he touched your bare skin.

You seek the air from the window but find it too warm and gently press the back of your hand to your cheek. Your skin is hot and it does nothing to alleviate the feeling so you let your hand drift to the top buttons of your shirt and undo them, leaving the material agape.

When he shifts in the driver’s seat you try not too look. Try not to notice the way his legs are spread wide and his jeans pull tightly between them.

He turns and catches you staring, holding your gaze before his drops to your lips. The hot look in his eyes, the one that continues to dip and linger on your exposed neckline, is hard to ignore and your breath hitches.

By the time you reach Jackson the air inside the truck is thick with tension and you throw the door open and take a deep inhale.

Tommy runs to greet Joel, his eyes shifting to you suspiciously. They talk in hushed voices, Joel standing with his head cocked, hands on hips and signature clenched jaw.

Tommy finally smiles your way and walks over to greet you. He’s handsome and much friendlier than Joel and you instantly feel welcome.

“I can’t believe you survived the whole ride with him,” Tommy jokes.

A laugh bubbles from your throat.

“I see you inherited all the charm and wit.”

Tommy’s smile widens and he casually throws an arm over your shoulder as he leads you into the town.

“I like her better than you already,” he shoots over his shoulder at Joel, who follows your steps with a scowl.

After you get settled in your new place Joel comes to retrieve you for a bite to eat.

“Hungry?” he asks

“Starving actually.”

His dark eyes study you before he gestures toward the large bar/hall with an arm held out. You walk ahead and feel the press of his hand at your lower back as he reaches to open the door for you.

You lean into his touch and search the space, feeling slightly overwhelmed as several sets of unknown eyes turn to examine you.

Joel’s fingers splay at your back, sending tingles along your spine, then slide over to the curve of your waist. He pulls you into his side and walks you to an empty table.

“Don’t mind them,” he whispers. “They aren’t used to new people.”

You nod and miss his touch instantly as he releases you to pull out your chair. Your meal is eaten in relative silence but you don’t miss how his eyes drift to you at every opportunity.

“You know,” he starts, surprising you once again by speaking first, “if you need help building anythin’ for your plants…your mangoes, I can help.”

You giggle at his joke and lean in closer.

“Do you know a lot about farming?”

He pauses with the spoon half way to his mouth and the corner of his lips lift slightly.

“Enough.”

You let out a playful scoff. “That’s convincing.”

“I can definitely build you plant beds…”

“I’ll take any help I can get,” you say with a smile.

The next week goes by in a blur of meeting new people and adjusting to new routines. You still can’t believe you’ve found a safe place to be. It may not last forever but for now you’re going to be nothing but grateful.

You seek Joel out regularly, stealing as much time with him as you can even if he remains quiet more often than not. He’s more talkative than before and always answers your questions, adding an occasional playful joke here or there, but seems to prefer the comfortable silence between the two of you.

It’s on one particularly warm and sunny morning that Joel scratches at the back of his neck, a feeling of anxiousness crawling over his skin. He tries to tamp down the twitch of alarm but it’s useless, the sense only growing stronger as more time passes.

Where did you say you’d be this morning?

He drops the tool from his hand and heads for the old barn shed, remembering your words about looking for some old planting equipment. He’s almost at the partially closed doors when he hears voices. At first he can’t make out the words since they are hushed but when he hears your clear, “no, move,” he pushes open the doors with a bang.

He enters the barn with his fingers digging into his palms and his breath coming in deep through his nose. Your eyes shoot wide when you see him and Jack, the man who has you cornered, follows your line of vision and steps back immediately.

“You ok sweetheart?” Joel asks through clenched teeth.

You look at Jack and narrow your eyes. “I am now.”

“We were just…” Jack starts.

Joel holds up his hand and steps closer to Jack. “If you ever have trouble understanding the word ‘no,’ again, I’ll be more than happy to explain what it means.”

Jack stiffens at Joel’s dangerous tone and warning words and with a barely perceptible nod he walks out without looking back.

Joel’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight then he moves purposefully toward you with long strides.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says quietly. “Are you ok?”

“You’re sorry?” you repeat. “But…”

“I didn’t warn you. I shouldn’t have let him within ten feet of you.”

“Well you took care of it. I don’t think he’ll ever come near me again.”

“Better not,” he grits out. “Or he’ll have to deal with me.”

A small smile plays upon your lips and you take a step closer, resting your hands on his biceps.

“I should be thanking you.”

You stare up at him and in a move he never expects you lift your hands to his hair and slide them through his soft curls, pulling him down for a kiss.

For a moment you think he’s going to pull back but when your tempting curves mold to his body and you let out a soft moan he smooths one hand up your back and the other around your waist, tucking you into him as he deepens the kiss.

You whisper his name, brushing your lips to his and getting some air before you kiss him again. He walks backward until you hit the wooden wall behind you, his entire body slotted against yours so you can feel every inch of him.

“Fuck,” he groans out, maintaining intense eye contact when he traces your jaw with his thumb then gently sweeps it across your swollen lips.

“Been wantin’ to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you sweetheart,” he admits.

“Just kiss me?” you ask, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

He dips his head, his nose softly bumping yours as his lips hover above yours.

“No…not just…”

“JOEL?!”

At the sound of Tommy’s loud call Joel grumbles a curse and rests his forehead to yours. He reluctantly steps away but takes your hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, gently kissing your palm and then the curve of your fingertips.

He doesn’t say anything as he backs away and disappears between the doors with a tender release of your hand. You remain rooted in place, unable to do more than press your tingling fingers to your tingling lips.

When the rest of the day passes without any sign of Joel you start to worry you imagined the spark between you and maybe pushed him too far. Dinner time comes and goes and you still don’t see him but before you head to your small house to retire for the night you catch Tommy’s wife, Maria, outside and rush over to ask her if she’s seen Joel.

Her expression is somber before she answers.

“They left this morning,” she says quietly as she delicately rubs her belly.

“Left?”

Maria nods. “Trouble at the border. Tommy wouldn’t get into details but he seemed worried.”

You swallow thickly and thank her, letting her know to get you if she needs anything. Once you’re back inside your place you lean against the door and go over every interaction and every word, although few, between you and Joel.

Why didn’t he tell you and say goodbye? When would he be back? He had to come back…

Two full days pass with no sign of them. You linger at the window every morning and night, hoping to hear the distinct clop of hooves on the dirt.

It isn’t until midnight comes and goes and the clear sky is filled with twinkling bright stars that you’re awakened by the sound of a heavy knock at your door.

You startle from your sleeping spot on the couch and listen again, wondering if it’s your imagination.

Knock, knock.

“Sweetheart. It’s me. Let me in.”

You stand just beyond the threshold, your fingers hovering over the doorknob.

“Open the door for me darlin.’ I have to see you.”

The lock turns and very slowly the door opens.

You’re standing there in his flannel, barefoot and fragile.

“You’re back,” you state, your tone wary.

He waits for any sign of apprehension then brushes past you and spins around, taking you with him and bracing one large hand above your head to push the door closed with a click.

When he leans in closer and crowds you against the hard surface your lips part in awareness and his mouth grazes yours gently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you before I left.”

“Joel,” you start, shaking your head. “You don’t owe me any goodbyes…”

“But?” he adds.

“I was so worried…and I missed you.”

His fingers fall to the buttons of his shirt, slipping through the large openings at your waist and coasting over the front of your panties.

“Missed you too sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about how sweet those lips taste for the last two damn days.”

Without wasting another moment he brings his mouth down on yours, a low groan spilling from his throat. His hands cradle your face, his lips trailing along your jaw to your ear.

“Are you gonna let me find out if you’re sweet all over? he whispers.

Instead of answering, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug him down for another searing kiss. He presses you harder against the door and circles his hips so you can feel him hard along your stomach.

“You gonna give me a nice little taste darlin’?”

Your fingernails lightly drag down his chest, watching as his eyes darken and the muscles in his throat work over his hard swallow.

When your hands fall to the first closed button of his shirt, the one you’re still wearing, he groans and let’s his gaze fall to track the movement. You slowly unbutton it and drag a finger down, parting the fabric until you reach the next button and do the same, inch by inch exposing your bare skin.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re drivin’ me outta my goddamn mind.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ꒱ 명재현

summary : jaehyun somehow convinced you to take him to the supermarket with you, and it made you realize something

genre : fluff, slight angst (?), myungjae x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : pet names, food, mentions of anxiety, kissing author notes : suchhh a whore for domestic fluff word count : 1.5k

you should've known it was a mistake to take your puppy-like boyfriend to the crowded supermarket with you. you knew he'd be bouncing all over the place, asking if you two could get this and that, but you couldn't say no to him; he had puppy-dog eyes after all.

you don’t even know how he convinced you to let him ride along with you, hands clutched the entire time as the bus bumped and jumped. you vaguely remember between fast pecks in the doorway, him spewing out being an extra pair of hands, but you knew it was just because he couldn’t spend a moment of his free-days without you.

contrary to prior belief, jaehyun stood behind you, mostly because he didn’t like people having the opportunity to get too close, as you eyed the various fruits. you swiveled your head, asking if he wanted anything in particular for tonight—reveling in his calmness and security.

he grinned. “strawberries.”

you nodded absentmindedly, picking up a package of pink berries and placing them in the basket your boyfriend had offered (demanded) to carry for you. he pretended as if he was a spy, protecting you from the enemies, as he called them; aka the other people just trying to grocery shop. and you pretended as if you didn’t notice, falling a little more in love each time he’d grip your side, or hand, or shoulder protectively.

“jae, baby,” he hummed, coming to his senses. “do you want anything else while we’re right here? i don’t feel like coming back once you’ve realized you want apples or something.”

he pouted. “i know you would, though.” and he wasn’t wrong, the moment he looked at you with sweet eyes (evidently) you give in.

still you fronted the opposite. “no,” you turned your nose up playfully. “i’d make you go get them by yourself.”

he made an offended sound, hand coming to rest on his chest to emphasize his actions. soon, however, they morphed into a giggle, a cute smile plastering his face, which wasn’t even that far away from yours in that exact moment.

you thought it must’ve been gross, the pda, displayed for all the passerby’s to see. but as you looked at jaehyun, who had nothing but hearts in his eyes for you, you felt inclined to stay like that for at least a little while—you didn’t though, backing away slightly to return to what you needed to be doing instead.

“and, do we need more rice? i can’t remember.”

he tisked. “should’ve made a list, y/n. i would’ve made a list.” you knew well that he was only joking, because your boyfriend of all people would never make a list unless told to do so. you rolled your eyes, letting him continue. “but if we don’t, you can just store it right? it’s not too hard, is it?”

you looked to the various things in your basket already: green onions, garlic, cabbage, carrots, lettuce and strawberries. you remembered vaguely what you came here for, and you knew that if jaehyun wasn’t gracing your presence you’d probably be done by now (walking fast due to the anxiety). but despite that, you honestly wouldn’t have today play out any other way.

“i guess you’re right. i usually do that anyways.” he picked up a package of individually portioned rice. “just get those for now, i’ll buy bulk later when i remember.”

jaehyun could tell, like you were a picture book, that you were feeling a little uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people. you usually went to the store closer to closing, or on days when nobody would necessarily be around due to work conflicts. you usually bought in bulk so that it was only a once a month kind of thing, but when he saw you were running low on food he encouraged you (because you need to eat) to go grocery shopping, and that’s how you ended up in the grains isle.

you adjusted the empty basket on your arm, opposite of jaehyun’s, and took his hand. he gladly accepted the way you maneuvered you both from the isle and over by the drinks, which was relatively empty—for now.

he set his own basket on the floor, taking yours gently from your elbow and putting it next to the other. his face had a slight pout, and when his hands placed against your waist, yours mirrored the expression.

“coke zero?” you whispered out. “or sprite? or…”

he kept his gaze on you, before pulling you into a tight hug. the moment your chests hit, you inhaled his bright scent. you never could pinpoint exactly what it was, but every time you smelled something remotely close you were reminded of your boyfriend—who, obviously, cares so deeply for you.

you patted his should, in a way of telling him to let go, because you were a little embarrassed that anyone could see such as intimate moment if they turned down the isle. you loved him, you did, but he was a little impulsive when it came to you and yours needs; or what he thought those were.

before he completely pulled away, he snuck a peck against your lips, causing you to giggle in surprise. you continued laughing as he went to pick up the baskets, as if nothing happened.

“what was that for?”

“what was what for?” he asked, an innocent look meeting your eyes. you always found him puppy-like—everyone did—but right now especially. “how about coke zero, babe?”

you scoffed. “sure, myung, whatever you want.”

he stopped his actions, only halfway done taking the soda off the shelf. he turned back to you, approaching his a stupid-little grin on his lips. your eyes narrowed, but you knew you couldn’t back away. “well, in that case,” his palms touched your cheeks gently, before his lips once again pressed to yours (less urgently this time). you started laughing again, trying to push him off, still embarrassed of your boyfriends shameless actions. you thought this had to be public indecency, that he’d been watching too many dramas—picking up useless real-word tips and tricks—but you had to admit, you were feeling that anxious anymore.

you knew jaehyun always had a way to make you feel better; wether that be embarrassing himself to make you laugh, or holding you close. you knew he’d do just about anything to see you smile. and that he did, pulling away and watching your lips crease up. he thought you looked most beautiful smiling, practically shooting hearts from his eyes.

“jaehyun,” you swatted at him. “stop, this is a public establishment. don’t just kiss me in front of people like that… i-it’s embarrassing.”

he pretended to be offended, although knowing exactly what you meant. “you’re embarrassed? of me?” you rolled your eyes, knowing this was only the calm before the storm. jaehyun didn’t care about embarrassing himself, taking you as collateral. “you’re seriously embarrassed of kissing me? my girlfriend, embarrassed… oh my god.” he was once again pouting. “i don’t know how you’re going to make this up to me, y/n, I’m so hurt right now.”

you took the coke off the shelf, putting it in your empty basket. “let’s hurry up and i’ll give you a kiss at home, okay?”

he turned his nose up, blocking you. “just one? that’s not going to be enough to forgive you. you rejected me, hurt my pride, my ego—my girlfriend does—“

“as many as you want, jae,” you looked to your side, sensing the few people who had stumbled upon you and your (fake) sulking boyfriend. “people are staring, let’s go, please.”

and that’s was his cue. he’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable. he knew that nobody was in the isle when he kissed you, being attentively aware, but now that there was, he couldn’t take it any further.

he cheered up, causing you to laugh in disbelief once again. you watched jaehyun pluck the sprite off the shelf too, adding it to the heavier basket—which he took—and then your hand.

you picked up the other basket, catching a glimpse of the older couple at the end of the isle; they didn’t look disgusted by your actions, not even offended. it was more like a look of adoration, an expression of awe at your young love. maybe, you thought, nobody really minded when your boyfriend expressed his feelings for you. hell, when you saw other couples do it, you didn’t even mind. and it’s not like you were making out in front of the soda. he was just trying to cheer you up.

“c’mon, y/n.” he tugged your arm gently, gaining your attention. “we have to watch the last episode of my demon!”

maybe you were too much in your head, instead of focused on what was going on in the present time. in reality, no one truly cared what the two of you did. and, even through the embarrassment, you still liked when jaehyun was impulsive for you. he was your hyperactive boyfriend after all.

“okay…” you sighed out a deep breath. “and i owe you an apology for rejecting your kisses.”

he corrected. “lots of apologies!” before dragging you to check out.

you kissed his cheek standing in line, and felt something shift within yourself: maybe you were become more comfortable, or maybe you finally realized that expressing your admiration and love for someone wasn’t embarrassing.

emotions were only human after all.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your husband tells you about his rough day at work.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + Mob/Mafia + “I just want to take care of you.” + Stockholm Syndrome, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, wound dressing, housewife kink, mentions of violence, lying, deceit, mobs/mafias, age gap/difference, mentions of torture (not to the reader), scarring/marking (not self-harm), possessiveness, obsession, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

He’s beaten and bloody, but you still love him… Right?

You sit on the dining room chair in your dress with an apron on, smiling as hard as you can because Steve asked you to. He hates seeing you upset, and you hate seeing him mad. 

“Sweetheart…” Steve starts, watching your face intently. You clean his wounds with much care and love, just as he taught you. He sighs, knowing you’re too caught up in the task at hand. “Don’t be sad… You know it’s part of the job.”

“I just hate seeing you like this,” you tell him, voice shaky with tears. Your husband coming home all injured doesn’t happen often. The notoriously-feared Steve Rogers usually ends the day unscathed unless he’s been ambushed, which is what happened today.

But he still ended the fight victorious. He always does.

“I get that, but you know I do all this for you, right?” Steve asks, and you look up at him. Your eyes are glassy. You nod your head obediently. Steve works so hard just for you—he tells you this daily, especially when he’s exhausted, and just wants you to listen to him. “I– I know…”

You finish wiping the blood off his hands, and you spy a few bruises already starting to form. They litter his knuckles, but his wedding band remains intact.

“Right. And you know I don’t get hurt often,” Steve continues, picking up his glass of whiskey. He downs the rest and hisses from the burn. “You should see the other guy,” he tells you, and you continue nodding.

You’re not sure what to say. You don’t enjoy Steve’s line of work—you never have. You’ve made him aware of this time and time again, but you don’t have a say in what he does. You never do.

“Sam an’ I got him good. I did most of it—left him to rot in that room for Buck to have his fun. Remember those knives I got him as a gift?” Steve asks. You hum, moving forward to tend to the gash on his jaw. He has as many scars as he does tattoos. Your name is inscribed in ink on his chest, but his initials were written with a blade on your ass. 

The mention of knives almost has you sighing dreamily. You lost your ‘knife privileges’ a few months ago when you tried to hurt Steve. The idea seems so silly now. Why would you ever do that to the love of your life?

“Wanna know what that asshole did?” your husband whispers, and you meet his gaze. “O– Okay,” you hesitantly agree. You hate all the nitty-gritty details, but you can’t tell him ‘no.’ That’s the number one rule. 

“He said he knew you. Just a kid about your age, really. Think his name was Pete,” Steve starts, and you freeze for a split second. 

Peter—your old friend who vowed he’d get rid of the mob that wreaked havoc on your city when he was older. Steve’s mob. He hated that his aunt May would always have to give them most of her paycheck and how your parents lost their business when Steve decided to open his own store. 

“Said he knew you, but I doubt it. You would never be friends with some spunky asshole,” he laughs, and you’re snapped out of the childhood memories that have always brought you so much comfort and sadness. You’re tempted to defend Peter, but you bite your tongue. You’ve been so good—why would you want to get yourself in trouble?

“He told me to ‘let you go,’ or else he’d ‘make me pay,’” Steve laughs, pouring himself more of his drink. “I told him he was crazy. He kept sayin’ how I was hurting you and that I kidnapped you.” And he’s right—but you can’t say that. 

Tears sting your eyes as you bandage your husband up, the one you’ve never wanted a thing to do with. But he’s been so kind to you—he keeps you safe and doesn’t let you worry about anything except for him. 

“Yeah, right. I shut him up real quick, but he put up a good fight,” Steve says, sipping on his expensive whiskey. He places his glass on the dining room table and lifts your chin so you watch him in his blue eyes. “You know I just want to take care of you, right, sweetheart? Always have.”

You give him your sweetest smile and nod, blinking away your threatening waterworks. He’s right. Steve Rogers always is.

“Of course, honey.” 

[dancingtotuyo]

High Infidelity Part IV

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Joel goes on a date.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: pining, jealousy, masturbation (male and female), voyeurism, self loathing, emotional affair, boundaries crossed

Notes: Things are getting a little spicy hehe. As usual, shout out to my beta readers @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (special shout out to Ang for the ✨spicy✨ idea 😜) and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 4818

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

When Joel asks you to watch Sarah on Friday night, you don’t hesitate to say yes. Then, two minutes later you call him back and ask why. You’re surprised when he tells you he has a date. You should tease him, nag for details, but it’s none of your business. You find yourself wanting to know everything and nothing.

Joel is a grown-ass man. A single man at that, but it nags at you. Who is she? Where did he meet her? The two of you spend most of your free time together. In the six years you’ve known Joel, you can’t remember him ever mentioning a woman. 

His sole focus has always been Sarah. You suppose Tommy is on that list too, and Nathaniel. The two of you have matching worry lines thanks to your husband, and you guess by default you’re on the list too. If there’s one thing Joel Miller is committed to, it’s family.

Joel comes down in dark-wash jeans and a simple button-down. You didn’t know he owns jeans that nice, hugging his thighs, leather belt cinched at his waist. Your eyes rake over him perhaps a moment longer than needed. He hadn’t looked that nice at your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

You raise an eyebrow letting out a low whistle as he enters the kitchen. “Lucky lady.” You take a bite from your apple slice. You point the paring knife at his jeans. “Those new?”

Joel knits his eyebrows together. “No. Why?”

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“You keep tabs on my closet?”

“We’ve basically lived together for 3 years. You wear the same two pairs of work jeans and five ratty T-shirts in rotation. I wouldn’t be surprised if your shirts have the days of the week labeled on the inside.”

“Church clothes.”

You scowl. “We don’t go to church.”

“Speak for yourself, Darlin.” He chuckles, checking his watch, the one you gave him for Father’s Day. You shoot him a suspicious look. “The kids out back?”

“Yup.” You say, taking another bite of apple. 

Joel’s fingertips brush across your shoulders as he passes by, the warmth of his cologne fills your nostrils as he rushes out. A pit settles deep in your stomach. You’re not sure where it stems from, but you don’t like it. You feel uneasy. 

The back door shuts just as a tap on the front door echoes through the house. You sigh, not really wanting to answer it. The pit grows and you still don’t understand where it’s coming from. Sarah and Nathaniel’s muted laughter filters through as you open the door. 

She’s pretty you think. Not someone you consider to be a show-stopper, but exactly what you would picture Joel going for. There’s something almost familiar about her. She looks taken aback when you open the door. You plaster your well-practiced Southern hospitality smile on your face. 

“I’m Joel’s sister-in-law. Just here to watch the kids.” You hold out your hand. Relief floods her features.  

“Tracy.” She takes your hand.

“Nice to meet you.” You can’t shake the nagging air of familiarity about her. It itches your brain, hanging on the tip of your tongue. Have you seen her at parent pick-up before? “Joel should be back soon. He’s just saying goodnight.”

Tracy nods, clutch held tight in both hands. Maybe it makes you an asshole, but you don’t invite her in, forcing her to stand at the threshold of an open door. She wears a solid dress. Her makeup is tasteful and leagues ahead of anything you’d ever be able to pull off, especially with a rowdy toddler. 

For a second you miss it. The freedom that is. You wouldn’t give up Nathaniel for the world. Hell, you wouldn’t give up Tommy for the world even with the shit you’re going through, but the ability to go out at a moment’s notice and let the alcohol loosen your inhibitions, you miss that. Tracy couldn’t be much older than you. Maybe a year or two. Did you go to high school together? Is that why she looks familiar? 

There’d been a couple Tracys in your small high school, but none that look like her. 

“You have a son, right?” Tracy says. You nod. She smiles as if proud of herself for remembering the fact. “Joel mentioned that you two do a lot together- with his brother being in prison.”

“Yeah, we do.” Your shoulders stiffen and your smile tightens. So this wasn’t their first date. They knew each other well enough for Joel to divulge your business like it was front-page news. Though, you suppose it had made the paper. 

“Well, I got them both riled up for ya,” Joel says, walking through the house. He plays with the cuffs of his shirt before looking up. He seems startled to find the door wide open and Tracy on the other side. “Oh- Hi.”

“Hi,” Tracy laughs.

He looks between the two of you like he’s seen a ghost. You cross your arms, a faint smirk playing across your lips. “Just remember payback’s a bitch.”

“Yeah... I don’t doubt it.” Joel almost mutters it under his breath. He joins Tracy on the other side of the threshold, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek. “You ready to go?”

You catch the weirdness of Joel’s demeanor, familiar with all of his tendencies by now. You raise an eyebrow in question, but Joel won’t look you in the eye. His arm wraps around Tracy’s waist, pushing her toward his pickup. 

“Make yourself at home.” Joel throws his hand up in a wave despite his back being turned to you. 

“Always do!” You call back. 

You watch them until the truck is out of the driveway, confusion written across your face as you process the odd interaction. Why was Joel acting so weird- like you weren’t supposed to meet the mysterious lady he’d obviously been out with more than once, and why hadn’t he told you yet? And why did she look so damn familiar?

The moment the door clicks behind you, it hits. You freeze. The familiarity in her face is one you see every time you look in the mirror. She’s not your twin by any means, but Tracy could be your cousin, your sister even. Something you can’t place settles in your gut.

The kids are finally asleep. The TV drones on, but you don’t hear a sound of it. The whole interaction plays on repeat in your mind. You chew on your thumbnail. You can’t stop thinking about them, where they are, and what they might be doing. 

You glance down at your watch. 10:30. You don’t typically go to bed this early, and you’re not tired, but you can’t get it off your mind. Sleep is your only option for relief. 

Checking on the kids, you slip into Joel’s room. You’ve stayed in here more times than you can count as Joel always insists you stay in his bed. It’s automatic how you pull one of his shirts from the drawer. Not one of his five shitty work shirts but one of the well-worn ones he wears on the weekend after he showers. They’re soft. They smell like him, sawdust and old spice, not the cologne you caught on him this evening. You slip under the cool sheets, stretching out your bare legs and burying your face in his pillow. You’re surrounded by him here. 

You thought it would turn off the thoughts, silence your mind, but it doesn’t. If anything they ramp up. You know there’s no way Joel’s had her here. He wouldn’t bring a strange woman into his home, Sarah’s home, that quickly. No, it’s all him in here… and you. 

It’s just after eleven. You’re not asleep. Joel’s not home and your mind is running through the memories as it often does when you lay alone. You’ve spent more nights alone than with someone since you got married. You should be used to it, but you’re not. There should be someone next to you right now. 

Tossing and turning, an idea sparks in your mind. There’s one surefire way to get yourself to sleep. The mere thought sets desire through your veins. Goosebumps prickle your flesh. Your nipples perk up under Joel’s soft shirt. It’s been a while since you’ve touched yourself. 

Kicking the blankets off of you, you let your fingers skim over your bare thighs, moving them upward until your shirt is tucked under your breasts. Joel’s shirt. It has you pausing. This crosses so many lines. You can’t do this here, in your brother-in-law’s bed, in Joel’s bed where it smells like him. Where it feels like him. 

Your cunt clenches and a soft groan escaped from your lips. You’ve barely touched yourself, not enough for that response. Your heart rate refuses to calm down, the flame of desire already spreading from deep in your stomach. You shouldn’t do this, not here, but your fingers trace up and over your sternum again, slipping under Joel’s shirt. You brush your thumb over the hardened buds. You’ll change the sheets tomorrow. He’ll never know. 

A soft moan tumbles over your lips. Your body moves of its own volition, pressing into your touch. Your hands move down and across your skin. You run them over your favorite places to be touched, everywhere except where you want to be touched the most. You avoid it, waiting until your panties start to cling to you, excess moisture soaking into them. A finger runs over the seam of your lower lips. Another moan falls from your mouth, hips bucking up. 

You push down your panties, flinging them off once they hit your ankles. Your fingers slip between your folds. You’re slick, spreading it up and down, over and around your clit as need builds in your body. Another moan threatens to fall from your mouth, each one growing in volume. You bite down on the collar of Joel’s shirt. Another whiff of him overtakes you. Your cunt clenches as you finally slip a finger in and then a second. 

The house is dark when Joel gets back. He feels like a dick. He’d been distracted the whole time. He saw it the moment he spotted the two of you together- the resemblance. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, and even more when he couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole night. There’s nothing wrong with Tracy. She’s perfectly nice, but the bubble has popped. She’s not you. He won’t be seeing her again.

It doesn’t help that he knew he’d come home to a dark house. He knows you’re asleep in his bed right now in one of his shirts, and Lord help him, it kept him distracted all night. 

He’s quiet as he walks up the stairs so as to not wake you or the kids. He stares at his bedroom door, taunting him. You’re in there and he knows what you feel like sound asleep in his arms. You haven’t talked that night. In fact, you’ve acted like it never happened and he’s followed suit. He wonders if he could slip behind you now. If you would let him hold you. 

He lets out a long sigh, fighting with himself. He needs to slip in, grab a pair of sweats, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to pull himself out. He can sleep in his boxers, maybe find some sweats in the laundry. His hand drops from the door. 

He’s going to walk away. He’s not going to cross that line again. That’s his brother’s wife. The woman Tommy told him to take care of. He has to stop this. He can’t- and then he hears it. Soft and quiet at first. A soft gasp that hitches, like it got caught on something. 

He freezes. It’s probably nothing, a dream, his imagination. Then he hears it again, this time pitched lower, like it comes from a deeper place. He can’t discount that one. As much as his brain screams at him to go, run, his feet stay anchored to the floor. He’s desperate to hear it again, and he’s rewarded with another moan. 

They’re intentional. You’re doing that to yourself in his bed. He bites his lip, hand falling to the door frame to stabilize him. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be envisioning you spread out on his bed, toes curling against his sheets. The blood rushes straight to his cock and Joel knows he’s about to cross a line he can’t come back from. 

Another moan comes out of the room. He flips open the button of his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband stroking his already hard cock. Maybe it makes him a creep, but he’s never been more grateful for the thin walls in the house. 

Your noises of pleasure grow. Joel bites back his own, nails digging into the door frame. Precum leaks from the tip of his dick. He catches the way your moans grow more desperate as you take yourself closer. He works himself to the edge with you, wanting to hold off until you’re there. 

You’re so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers glide over your clit with ease, soaked with your slick. You’ve been pushing the images away the whole time, trying not to go there, but the closer you pull yourself to bliss, the harder it is to keep them at bay. Your eyes drift shut as you lean into the feeling, willing yourself over the edge. They flash in your mind, pictures of him over you, calloused hands running over your bare body, his deep baritone in your ear as he pulls you apart. The tension between your thighs breaks free. You don’t realize how loud you cry out, ears ringing with pleasure as his name effortlessly rolls off your lips. 

You lay there, still, chest heaving. Not Tommy’s name. Joel’s. 

Before you have time to comprehend what just happened, it breaks through the silence. A soft, bitten back moan on the other side of the door in a tone you can only recognize as his and the faint whispers of your name. Your eyes widen. Had he…? 

Your brain races with the possibilities as you lay bare, tshirt pushed above your breasts. He could walk in. You hadn’t locked the door. You could open the door to him, take his hand, invite him into his own bed. 

You cringe. When did you become this person? The one who lusts after another man while married? As much as you’re ashamed, you fight against the temptation. You want to give in. You want to be touched and desired again. You’d seen it in Joel’s eyes that night at the beach. He would give you what you needed. Before you can make a decision, you hear the steps creak. He’s walked away. 

You let out a deep breath, not sure if you’re disappointed or relieved. You roll over, burying your  head in Joel pillow, wrapping yourself in his comforter, cunt still slick and dripping. 

Lucky for Joel, he’s able to find clean sweats in the dryer and then starts the washer with his jeans and boxers, washing away all evidence of his sins. 

He settles on the couch with just the decorative pillow and throw blanket. It’s hot anyway so the blanket is quickly kicked to his feet. He can’t put it out of his mind. Any of it. You. 

He tries not to think about the sounds you made in his bed, the things you did. He tries not to think about you asleep in his arms, but with all things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do. 

Joel has accepted that he’s not a good man. His intentions with you are no longer pure, but self seeking. Yes, he cares for you and your well being, but he wants you. He needs you near him. He needs you to realize he’s been here through it all. That Tommy has done nothing to be worthy of you. Joel has spent more of your marriage being your husband than Tommy has. 

He clenches his fists. Anger surges through him. Joel doesn’t care if it makes him a bad person. If he had a way to go and turn back time, he would. He’d find a way to meet you before Tommy did. He would make you his. He would save you from the heartache of being Tommy’s wife. You would be his Mrs. Miller. 

Joel wishes he’d kissed you at the beach. He wanted to. God knows how badly he’d wanted to. It took every last ounce of self control not to. His stores are depleted. Between that and tonight, Joel has no more restraint to offer this situation. If you ever give him the chance again, he won’t hold back. He doesn’t care that you’re married to his brother. You deserve better. You deserve the world. Joel believes he can give it to you. 

You both sleep better than you have in weeks. 

“I never understood back to school nights,” Joel grumbles, stuffing a store bought chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and washing it down with cheap faculty room coffee. “Want some?”

“You know I don’t drink caffeine after two.” 

Joel shrugs, taking another sip. “It’s not that good anyway.” 

You roll your eyes. “What about back to school nights makes you grumpy? It’s a chance for Sarah to see where she’ll spend most of her time for the next nine months.”

“Then where is she?” Joel raises an eyebrow. “Out on the playground because it only takes 5 seconds to see the classroom and she’d rather play with her friends.”

“You’re a grump.”

“Yeah, a grump who’d rather be watching the game.” 

You roll your eyes, swatting his shoulder. “Have you at least talked to her teacher yet?”

He grimaces. “Haven’t worked up the courage yet.”

It isn’t that Joel doesn’t want to know the person responsible for educating his child. It’s the fact that Sarah has a knack for ending up with the young, single teachers as her educators, ones who seem very interested in her father as more than a parent. He’d been granted reprieve last year, but you’d caught the visible shudder in his frame the moment he’d laid eyes on Sarah’s teacher for the year, young and not a ring on her left hand in sight. 

“Stop judging a book by its cover. You’re a grown up.”

“Fine.” He sets down his coffee with determination. “Let’s go.” His hand finds your waist as he propels you both toward the teacher. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows knit together. You have a sneaking suspicion you know what he’s playing at. 

“We’re going to meet Sarah’s teacher.” He shrugs, but a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Mrs. Miller.”

Your stomach does little flips. You’ve been mistaken for his Mrs. Miller more times than you can count at this point. You’ve attended Sarah’s parent teacher conferences when Joel got held up at a job sight, letting the teachers assume whatever they wanted. You are Mrs. Miller after all. But you’ve never done anything like this, not alongside him.  

He introduces himself and you to Miss Holly as he tugs you in closer to his right side. Your left arm instinctively wraps around his middle and you see the moment she watches the glint of your engagement and wedding ring under the fluorescent lights. 

It’s hardly the first time you’ve been mistaken for Joel Miller’s wife, but it is the first time he’s played into the assumption on purpose, with confidence. It’s the first time you let your mind forget it’s not true, even for just a few seconds, playing a part that doesn’t feel like playing at all. Joel lets his southern charm show now, protected by the guise of you as his bride. Before you know it, it feels too natural. Joel’s hand falls a bit, grasping your hip, tugging you closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You think maybe it is.  

Joel leads the conversation. You’re too caught up in the feel of his hand on your hip and the breathing of his chest under your palm. The night you almost kissed, the night you crawled into his bed and he held you through some of the best sleep you’ve gotten in years flashes in your mind. You think back to just last week, his name on your lips, that strangled, soft moan, and your own name you swear you heard. 

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” Sarah’s teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts. 

Joel offers his own goodbyes and you echo them, still fighting the haze inside your own mind. You wonder if there’s a world where this is your life, one where you and Joel aren’t playing make believe. One where you crawl in bed beside him every night instead of your empty bed. It’s an awful thought. Your husband gets released from prison in a few weeks. These thoughts will be gone by then. They have to be.

It was one night of indiscretion, two at the most, and you never actually did anything. You didn’t know Joel was on the other side of that door. Tommy doesn’t need to know. By his own admission, he’s actually crossed those boundaries. He’s broken your wedding vows. You glance at Joel’s profile as he leads you out of the classroom, a proud smirk on his face. The bastard enjoyed that way too much. 

When you make it to the hall, his fingers lace through yours. Is he forgetting too? Giving himself a moment to linger in the unspoken what ifs that seem to crowd around you these days. 

He drops your hand once you’re outside in view of the playground. He waves Sarah over, but you stay a couple steps behind, deep in thought until someone calls your name. Your head snaps in their direction. Julia and Micky Hall stand before you. Your eyes widen in recognition. Micky was one of Tommy’s Army buddies. They’d moved to Dallas after the group came back from their deployment. 

“Hi,” the words fall from your mouth in shock. “I didn’t know y’all were back in Austin.” Your feet carry you toward the couple. 

“Just moved back last month,” Julia says as you move to hug her and then Micky. “We’ve been meaning to call.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just good to see you both.” The smile across your face is genuine as you talk to your friends. You’d grown apart since their move. Other than Joel, Julia had been your closest friend during Tommy’s deployment. “How have you been? The boys?”

“Starting first grade,” Julia grins, pointing to her twin boys on the playground.

Your eyes catch them, running around. “They’ve grown so much.”

“How’s Nathaniel?” Julia asks.

“Good, growing like a weed as I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“Too familiar,” Julia laughs. 

“Nathaniel isn’t going into Kindergarten, is he?” Micky asks.

“Next year. I came for Sarah’s back to school night. Joel’s daughter.” You point to where Sarah is just rushing over to her father. You feel the ghost of Joel’s touch when you utter his name. “We’ve been helping each other out a lot with everything.”

The couple nods, an awkward silence forming between you as if they don’t want to address the elephant in the room. The heat has let up a little bit as the sun begins to dip behind the trees. 

“I’ve written to Tommy a couple of times,” Micky says, hands tucked into his front pockets. “Haven’t heard back much.”

You force a nod, feeling the tension grow in your limbs. “I haven’t been able to get much from him.” 

You catch the way both their eyes widen. They were there the night you and Tommy met. They’d seen the way you fell, both of you. How inseparable your bond is, or was. 

“Shit,” Micky says, running a hand over his face. “How are you holding up?”

“Not sure I am most days. Joel’s been a big help to us.” It feels like you’re concealing the whole truth. Joel’s been the crutch keeping you going most days. Julia’s brow furrows with concern.

Micky nods. “I’d like to go see him if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Maybe you can get through to him.”

“And we should get the kids together,” Julia adds. “Catch up ourselves.”

“That would be nice,” you smile at her as you catch Joel and Sarah waiting by the truck, laughing about something. “I should go, but you should call. Number’s still the same.”

“I’ll use it.” Julia smiles as you wave at both of them before crossing the parking lot with a weird feeling in your gut.  

Seeing Julia and Micky was nice. It brought back a lot of good memories. The four of you. It’s another reminder of how lonely the last years have been. How much you’ve depended on Joel. How much he’s been there. 

As you join Joel and Sarah at the truck, Sarah catches you up on all her friend’s summer vacations and updates, mouth moving a million miles a minute. She doesn’t stop as you climb in or for the click of your seat belt. You stay quiet, watching Austin wiz by out the passenger side window. 

When Joel pulls into your driveway, you let out a sigh staring at the door. He leans over the center console, keeping his voice low.  “You okay, Darlin? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Just tired. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” You fling the door of the pick up open. 

“Darlin?”

You bristle, smoothing out your skirt as you turn to face him. His brows knit together. “I’m fine, Joel.”

“You’re coming over tomorrow, right Aunt Bonnie?”

“Of course, Sarah Bear.” You blow her a kiss, shutting the door before Joel can protest. He makes sure you’re inside before pulling out of the driveway. 

Nathaniel is already asleep thanks to an afternoon at the playground and the magic your sitter works. You pay her extra tonight. You’ve never been more thankful to come home to a sleeping child, too distracted by the run in with your friends and Joel’s hot hands on you, the way he held you as if to tell the world to back off, you’re his. 

You pull the bottle of Tequila out of the cabinet. You’re tempted to pull straight from the bottle but you pour a finger or so into a glass instead. Your mother raised you better than that. She also raised you better than to pine after your brother in law. 

You throw back the whole glass. The cheap liquor burns your throat. You ran out of the good stuff last week with Joel and hadn’t made it to the liquor store yet. Joel had drunk you under the table, your tolerance not what it used to be. Not that you had ever been able to keep up with him. You fill the glass with another finger and toss it back. You can’t think about Joel. Can’t think about the way your wedding bands burn against your skin as if they are punishing you for tonight, for last week, for Father’s Day and for everything else. 

You pour more tequila into the cup, but you add ice and margarita mixer this time, knowing the first two shots will catch up to you soon enough. You fall onto the couch with a sigh. Three weeks. Just three weeks and Tommy will be back. You won’t see Joel everyday. Your husband will take care of you, satisfy you. That’s all this is. The deprivation of the last two and a half years. You can make it three more weeks. 

You try to reason it away. It makes sense. You and Joel have been so close in all this. He’s been your partner, not your husband, but partner. He’s an attractive man, thoughts were bound to pop up, lines were bound to get blurry, but all will correct itself when Tommy’s home. Yes, it all makes perfect sense. 

You take a sip of the margarita. Condensation trickles down your hand and ice rattles in the glass. Even as the numbness of the tequila shots begins to take over your body, the reassurances feel weak. 

Even if you can’t admit it, something has shifted. You and Joel are playing with fire. 

Three more weeks you push. Tommy will be home. You’ll have Your Tommy back. 

But you can’t erase the last two and a half years. Tonight, with the ghost of his hands on your body, you remember all the ways Joel has been there for you over these past years, filling in the gaping caverns Tommy left.   

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love

@justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours

@duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75

@millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw @tulips2715 @leggtostandon

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @lotusbxtch @ravenn-darkholme

[wonijinjin]

drunk on love

author's note: this is part of the 200 followers event, which is still open for anyone wanting to join!

synopsis: your boyfriend's drunk confession was full of surprises.

word count: 0.6k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: jun x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of being tipsy and drunk, alcohol

it was a late night and you were at the monthly meeting of the friends of your boyfriend, jun. it was a friendly gathering with their partners involved as well, since you guys were in a good relationship with them, and thought it would be fun to invite everyone. the mood was great, everyone was having fun and enjoying themselves and you really appreciated the time you had to chat and catch up with your friends.

„do you want another drink precious?” jun asked you excitedly with a big smile on his face upon arriving next to your chair, eyes scanning you in the meantime. “baby i think we both had enough to drink, not even talking about the boys. look at them, they are totally done!” you giggled while sharing a knowing look with one of girls in the room, who had been tending to a drunk hoshi for quite some time now. the boys hadn’t been each other for quite a while since they have busy private schedules, so naturally everyone stepped out of their comfort zones to spend the evening together, even woozi who usually doesn’t drink. “but i got your favourite!” jun answered with a puzzled expression, sulking immediately. your gaze followed his hands and saw nothing in them. “you don’t even have a drink in your hand junnie.” you patted his back symphatetically. “yeah, since i am your favourite, duh!” he slurred while pointing at himself. “well that is true my love. i guess i cannot resist my favourite, can i?” your words made him get his precious smile back instantly, reaching out to grab you and pull you into a hug. “i love you sooo much.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook or your neck. “you smell so good, is that a new perfume?” he curiously asked while getting even closer. you adored his tipsy state; he was like a little cat craving attention and care every time without fail. “it is a new perfume indeed baby. thank you for noticing.” you kissed him softly while separating the two of you so you could look at him properly. “look baby i think it was enough for today. the boys are starting to pack up as well, see? joshua over there is already in his jacket, ready to leave, I can see his eyes droop it is hilarious to be honest. why don’t we call a taxi and go home now, hmm?” the surprised cat put his hand on your shoulder. “no! first i gotta tell you something really serious.” jun stated, making you pasue. “i think i am in love with you.” you burst out laughing after hearing him; it was nothing new; you expected something a little bit more serious. ”i know that, silly!” “no, you don’t understand! i want to marry you. i am serious. let’s get married right now actually!” he muttered while grabbing your face between his hands, squishing your cheeks in cute aggression. you were stunned; you didn’t expect him to continue his confession, and certainly not with this, but you went along with it. “tell me that when you are sober, baby.” you pecked his head “if you still think we should get married when you are sober i will not hesitate. i am curious if you will remember this by the morning though, you are in a pretty rough state.” you snickered, secretly happy that he saw a future with you just as much as you did with him. “hey i am not in a rough state! i am perfectly fine. you are the one for me.” he muttered more to himself than to you. “let’s get you home you big sulky cat.” you said while helping him pick up his things from the table. “by the way, I am in love with you too silly.”

[oddballwriter]

Moon Boys w/ Reader who is on their Period

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: Mentions of periods, cramps, and other period symptoms (of course). Reader is kept gender neutral for all my he/hims and they/thems who still have their periods. Mention of Layla, I know that’s not really anything but whatever.

Author’s Snip: Guess who’s on his period! Me! So might as well use this as something to help fill out my MoonKnight masterlist.

Notes: There is no dysphoria talk in here but if anyone wants that they can request it.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Steven Grant

Steven of course knows what a period is but he’s never actually been with someone long enough to come to the part were they would get their period or see them while on their period

He’s great support though

If you have any issues while on your period like bad cramps or fatigue he’s right there to help

Steven actually reads up and researches as much as he can about periods and menstrual cycles to actually understand what’s happening and how to help you

If you hold up fine on your own then he respects that but if you need something he’s on it

Literally nothing is too big of a task for him. If you want a specific snack then he’s going to go get it and some extra things

He’s had a cashers look at him after noticing all the stuff he’s buying and say “You’re a good man.” or just give him a knowing look

Steven does get a little scared if your moody because he doesn’t like feeling like you’re mad at him. But he understands.

I mean you’re bleeding against your will for several days and can sometimes be in pain and still have to go on with your day like you’re not. That’s defiantly not comfortable. He’d be a bit snappy if he had to go through that. 

Steven is a huge cuddle bug so if you want him to hold you while you sit through a cramp he’s right there and holding your heating pad for you

He’s just a sweetie the whole time

Marc Spector

He was married to Layla

He knows how it goes

Marc isn’t doting like Steven (very much) is, but he’s not going to tell you to walk it off either

If you’re stuck in bed because your period isn’t going easy on you he’ll get you what you need, but he’s still very much Marc about it

“Alright. Think of what you need because I’m not gonna walk back and forth repeatedly.” 

For the most part he leaves you alone and lets you come to him since he doesn’t want to get in your space and bother you

Marc memorizes and remembers when you usually get your period and so he’s able to prepare for it so that you don’t have to worry about running out of pad/tampons or painkillers

Again he’s not going to treat you like your sick and dying but he still very much cares about you and wants to make sure you’re okay

You can twist his harm into getting you a specific snack if you do puppy dog eyes and hit him with the “pretty please”

Is he aware that you use that against him? Yes. Is he mad that it gets him every time? Yes. Is he still going to drive all the way to the store? Also yes.

Jake Lockley

“Beba, I’m in the period aisle. What pussy size you wear.” energy

You know he would. Jake’s the type of man to do that. Don’t argue with me

So all the boys know your cycle and what time frame you get your period. But Jake is able to be most on the dot

It’s kind of creepy because he knows exactly when you’ll get it but Jake’s just used to being observant and so he just recognizes it more than the rest of them

This also leads to him telling when you’re really going through it with your cramps and just trying to keep a brave face

When he sees that he just picks you up and puts you on the couch with your heating pad, pills, and a blanket

Whatever you were doing before doesn’t matter, he’ll do it. You go ahead and just lay there and relax as best you can

To all my Mexicans and hispanics reading this, if you’re cramps are bad then he puts his hand on your stomach and does “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana” to help you feel better and also make you laugh if you know what it is

For context to any non hispanics, “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana” is a rhyme that parents will do while rubbing where their child got hurt or feels pain

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Slight Angst | Wanderer x Reader “A Name of Your Own”

SUMMARY Giving him an actual name <3

CONTENT Fluff, little bit of angst, mentions of his past, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES I think it’s so funny that if you try to name him “Dottore” he says “you can’t be serious…” LMAOOO Basically this is what I named Wanderer and this is how I imagine he’d react to the situation hehe Another Wanderer fic for you pookie <3 @thepurestgirll

WORD COUNT: 737

“My own name…?” the confused anemo user asks albeit rhetorically.

You’re in the sunlit akademiya library in the process of choosing a name for Mr Kabukimono/Kunikuzushi/Balladeer/Scaramouche/Wanderer/Hat Guy and he wonders why it feels so strange. He hasn’t really had a name that he necessarily cherished. All were titles given to him that have some alternative meaning or intention behind them. But this time, it’d be a name just for the sake of a name. A name to call him by, a name with a meaning about his soul, not about his status or appearance.

“克仁” (romanized: Katsuhito)

You say the name with a stern look and a gentle smile. He looks up at you, your words pulling him out of his thoughts.

It took you a little bit of research and time to put it together but you decided on this: a meaningful name in his native language.

“I can’t really read the language… What does it mean?” he asks, confused, as you show him the characters.

“克 (Katsu) meaning ‘to overcome,’ and 仁 (Hito) meaning ‘compassionate.’” You explain while writing the symbols on paper, teaching him how to spell his name and how to pronounce it.

“I just thought it fit you pretty nicely. You’ve been through a lot and you’ve come out alive and even after all that… you still somehow have kindness in you. I think that’s what compassion for yourself and others truly is.” You say gently as you look at the paper.

You’re looking at the name but he’s looking at you, his eyes softening at your words and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. His face reads a mix of surprise and melancholic happiness. He’s surprised that you have such nice things to say about him. He thought that you, the traveler, and Paimon would end up just messing with him when picking a name. But he’s pleasantly surprised and starts to wonder if he really deserves something so nice.

You’d already discussed the name with Nahida and the traveling duo and they loved it. They were also happy to see how much thought you put in it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking at him, once again pulling him out of his thoughts. He didn’t realize he was just staring at you instead of paying attention to the paper.

He blinks a few times and stutters out a shy “y-yeah… I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Your eyes widen and then close as you smile at him, “aw you don’t need to thank me, just enjoy your new name!”

He looks down bashfully, trying to conceal his emotions and appreciation. His heart is beating fast, he doesn’t really understand it, especially considering he doesn’t really have an organic one. But he seems to feel emotion the same way you do. This used to piss him off. But right now, he’s kind of glad he can feel this way. He’s glad you make him feel this way.

You’re also feeling bubbly. You’re happy he likes it and it feels like it was a moment for you two to bond. You test the waters a little bit more and say “I was also thinking your nickname could be something like ‘Hito!’”

He blushes ever so slightly as he meets your eyes again. “That sounds…” he stops himself from saying “cute” and opts for “nice” instead.

He was usually pretty irritable and always wore an annoyed look, but because this was important and brought up a lot of emotion at the thought of his old names, he was pretty serious. He was vulnerable. But you didn’t hurt him. He would always remember that.

“Okay! Then it’s settled. Let’s go get some dinner, Hito.” You chime.

“Sounds good…” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t pry though, you know he’s only recently been introduced to the idea of living a life of his own, uncontrolled directly by someone. You figure that this talk about names also brought up unsavory memories.

But he was no longer a puppet to be used. He was just him, and he’d forever be grateful to the people who made that possible.

He watched you jog ahead of him, out of the library and into the sunset. The golden light illuminating your hair and outfit as it flowed in the breeze. You called out to him, telling him how the weather was lovely.

He smiled.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[rhodesrider]

Gone

Yandere! Cody R. x Black! Fem! Reader

Author’s Note: Now this is total different from my usual content I post. If you do not like this type of stuff which is obsession and murder, Please do not read.

Warning: Once again Minors DNI / 18+ Only, Murder, Unhealthy Obsessions, blood, weapons, psychological horror themes, mentions of cheating, mentions of sexual behavior

You have been warned.

~

“I don’t get why would he just leave…”

Y/N sighed after her sobbing for about a hour, she sat on her bed looking at the note looking over it once more. Seeing the writing was rushed and messy, like he was in a rush. Her ex now MIA left her note and she’s been worried since the sun was up for the morning time. She was so confused in top of that because he was find the other day, he bought her flowers, they went out and watched some movies. They were having a nice time for once besides just arguing and spending the night in separate rooms. But the next morning hit and she was hoping to see him next to her but instead she sees a single note. “Everything was fine…” her mind was clouded, she couldn’t think at all. Just more tears started to fall somehow she felt like it was her fault. She was probably asking too much of him to where he just leaves from being overwhelmed in their relationship. She heard her phone go off and glanced to the side seeing that it was her friend Cody, he was a mostly a busy man, but he always knew when to call. She smiled some and picked up the phone, cleaning her face some. “Hey Cody.”

Cody smiled as he heard her angelic voice, “Hey Pumpkin, you doing good today? You usually text me after I get off work to see how our days were.” She smiled at the sound of her second support, Cody has always been a good friend to her. He listens to her venting and gives the best advice. “I know, I’m sorry I didn’t it’s just…he’s gone. All he left was a note. Saying that “You’ll find better” and more stupid shit.” She sniffled and wiped her tears away with a tissue. Cody sighed hating to hear her cry, that’s the last thing he wants. “Did you try his cell?” He asked as he smiled going on another phone, holding it with black gloves and scrolling down messages. “I have and he left me on read. I don’t get what’s going on. Did I do something wrong Cody?” “No no angel, your perfect. He doesn’t know it and I don’t think he’s ever gonna know it.” He smirked. The phone he soon turned off making sure the tracker was off and all. “Give me one second please Y/N.” He put the phone on mute and smashed the phone to pieces on the ground. Turning her back of mute he brought his composer back. “But yea you didn’t do anything. I don’t know why he just up and left you both were having such a good time yesterday.” She agreed fully. As she continued to vent and figure out what’s going on, Cody just simply put her on speaker and walked over to an open space in his garage. He stopped in front of a man, a man that was tied up and drugged in a chair. He just smiled and muted himself again while she continued to vent and cry. “She deserves better ya know? And you can’t give her that. I saw you trying thou.” His gaze darkened. “That was precious. Trying to keep her from me, I’ve been nothing but a great friend to her. But you wanted to be in my way. “Baby I don’t know he gives me weird vibes.”” He mocked as he remembered the times hearing him speak ill of Cody.

He unmuted himself, “Hey Y/N, have you heard from him at all?” He sounded so concerned, it made Y/N worry. “No I haven’t, he even turned off his location.” She sighed as she went to the Ifind app and it was still buffering on his whereabouts. “How about I come over and if we have to I’ll go to the police station with you as well if nothing comes up in a day or two. He can’t just stop all connections with you.” The boyfriend looked at Cody with somewhat pleading eyes, Cody just smiling at him happy he’s finally able to get his chance. “Thank you Cody, I’ll let you know if something comes up.” “Ok sweetheart, talk later. I hate it when you’re upset, hopefully he has a very reasonable explanation for this.” As Cody said those last words he held up a gun. Examining it and the boyfriend’s eyes widened and wanted to scream. The drug isn’t letting him. Cody hung up and kissed the gun looking at the dude. “You know, her favorite color is Green. Did you know that?” The boyfriend shook his head fast trying to defend himself but soon was pistol whipped. “NO YOU DIDN’T YOU FUCKING IDIOT. YOU THOUGHT IT WAS PINK.” Cody screamed in his face in anger, turning absolute red. “You are a waste to her and she still cares. I want that, I want her to care about me like she does for a parasite like you.” He calmed himself, slowly putting the barrel to the boyfriend’s neck looking in his eyes with a darkened deadly glare. “You are nothing more than dirt to the woman. I’ve seen what you are to her. She took care of you and you do nothing for her. She begs for you to go out, but you’re too busy. Doing what exactly?” He scratched his head with the gun and looked in the corner. “Oh wait. Were you doing her?” He pointed the gun to the dark corner. The boyfriend fixed his eyes while he could and stared in fear.

A body.

It couldn’t be who he thinks it was. “When I met her she was easy, I can see why you fuck her. She melted in my hands. She was vile.” He had a disgusted look on his face. “I had to shower and get tested after giving her a good time and cleaning the blood out.” He hissed. “I have to make sure I didn’t contract anything, condom or not. I wanna stay clean for my princess.” He smiled and got up walking over to the spot turning on a single light, showing the rotting body. The boyfriend started to shed tears, seeing that he might not make it. Cody smiled walking back over to the boyfriend and looking at his tears fall. “Weak. You were never for her.” He put the gun down and started to walk up the stairs going back to his home. He closed the door and got the key locking it shut. He checked himself in a near by mirror and saw some blood splatter on his shirt. “Hmm we can’t have that.” He went to go wash and freshen up for Y/N, planning to comfort her. Just the thought of being in her presence made him warm inside, all he ever thinks about is her. And he needs her, if he doesn’t get her no one will. But Cody doesn’t think it could ever get that far. He knows she’s just blinded by stupidity and she’s gonna fall for him. “I love you so much baby.” He sighed in the shower, where he had a cover for his phone to watch cameras. He was watching Y/N on the bed looking at her phone, crying and clearly in distress. “I’ll be there soon baby.” He started to hurry up and finished his shower. He got ready and grabbed his keys walking out greeting his dogs, he went to the car after and rode off to her home. Ready to be of service for her.

The boyfriend in the garage sat in the chair wiggling trying to find a way out. He kept looking back at the body with flies, tears falling in fear. This man was dangerous and he was gonna be with Y/N. He had to stop it. He moved the chair some and hear a contraption go off. He looked around but was too late feeling his knee go in. He screamed to the top of his lungs but no one can hear him. Cody set up a trap and it was highly sensitive. He sat there defeated. Crying and pleading god, wishing he would have treated Y/N a bit better than before. “I’m sorry Y/N…” it echoed in his head as he passed out from the shock.

He’s gonna have her one way or another.

[itsnathateasy]

connie being domestic!

word count: 1,3k warnings: a couple suggesting mentions (making out, car sex) author’s note: i don’t often see domestic content about connie on here, so i think it’s my solemn duty to provide these headcanons nobody asked for (boyfriend, husband, father, a bit of all tbh cause i can’t decide on one)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I KNOW connie seems so unreliable, his fun and giggly personality makes it hard to imagine him as someone who’d take care of you or of your children (if you had any)

but connie is also the type of person who cares for his friends so deeply and was about to sacrifice a literal kid to save his mum… now, sacrifice is wrong (unless it’s a man against the feminist movement) but his intentions were pure

having said the above, connie is the person to cook for you when you’re feeling out of it, maybe you had a rough day at work or you were sick, but connie has you covered, he even gives you this lil speech about deserving a break and thanks you for always taking care of him so he’s more than happy to be taking care of you now

not that he expects you to be sick to take care of you, but it’s a great opportunity as you usually give him other household tasks to manage

like he’s the one responsible for all the shopping, from groceries to shelves and other hardware, he’s good at remembering technical details and he makes sure to follow your weekly or monthly meal prepping plan, to him this is like a game almost, he’s having a blast

he’s the sweetest to watch trying to unlock your apartment door, basically covered by all those bags he’s caring and he comes in with a “honey, i’m home!” and never fails to not by you your special treat

connie is also a master with “fun” matters, he always knows what kind of gift you’d want for your birthday or anniversary and keeps mental notes of (literally) every single thing you say

when it comes to gift giving, he’s the same with your friends, it’s honestly admirable how he recalls all these details with zero note taking

in the “fun” matters, i’m also including music and shows/films, he’s the man to text you “made this playlist for you” out of nowhere or “hey wanna listen to this new song with me” when you’re both home after work

he’s the best when it comes to preparing for movie nights and even though he can’t plan a mean girls night on october 3rd, he will have bought all the snacks you both love, have the blankets ready on your couch and the tv on, waiting to hit the play button as soon as you’re back home from the gym

i also get the vibe that connie is crafty, so when anything is broken, he may not know how to fix it, but he will find a way or he’ll make sure to be home when you need a plumber and “supervise him” (idk why he needs to supervise a professional, but let him be the man)

he may need his lunch box packed for him, but he never fails to brew your coffee and leave you an “i love you” note on the fridge if he’s to leave earlier than you in the mornings

if he finds you already asleep on the couch, he’ll cover you with a blanket and scoot as close to you as possible and spoons you for the entire night (he won’t allow you to leave the couch in the morning without a proper cuddling session)

if you have a pet, he’s their dad, he takes them to the vet and buys their supplies, he often accidentally kicks their water bowl (he was showing you how cool he’d be if he was to play any of jackie chan’s roles) but he cleans it up later

he’s just a silly lil goofy boy, yk? but he never means any harm, he’s just too enthusiastic

did i mention that you guys often bake your favourite biscuits and cakes together? I KNOW you burnt that first batch because you were making out on the counter, but the rest of the baking went great

you do have some issues with him being prompt though, that’s sad. i mean, if you were to get ready together, you’d probably monitor him so that you wouldn’t be late, but if he’s to pick you up from work or from a coffee date with your friends, you’ll have to wait at least 15 minutes before he’s there and that’s why you resort to lying about being done earlier than you actually are

he knows he’s terrible with time management and constantly apologises for it, he even set up like 27 alarms to make sure he’s there on time buuut then jean called or he couldn’t pick out an appropriate outfit and now he’s profusely apologising and handing you your favourite chocolate bar as peace offering

hate to say this, but connie honestly believes he knows the way to every single place on the planet and thinks google maps ain’t shit. so he’s not using it. ever. only HE knows how to get there. (baby boy is CLUELESS as shit, but feels like he has to keep it up to highlight his navigational skills or something)

the money you’ve spent on gas and the time you’ve wasted aimlessly driving around…

he makes it up to you as you often end up in the most remote places wink wink so his rivalry with google maps is both a cursing and a bless for you

and yeah, he gets lost often and he tends to be unreliable when he has to plan things on his own and that might be difficult to deal with from time to time, but this man loves you to his core and will do anything to make it up to you

connie knows what he’s skilled with and what he needs to work on and he owns up to his mistakes, taking full responsibility when he’s in the wrong

he might seem all over the place and like he can’t organise shit but he’ll work his ass off to make you and keep you happy

like when you fight, connie never raises his voice, he knows this will make things worse and instead he suggests that you take a few deep breaths together and hug before you continue with your argument. truth be told, the first time you fought and he pulled this card on you, you thought he was making fun of you, but once you realised he was being serious, it was game over, THIS was the man

if you guys have kids, he’s the goofiest, most fun dad to be around, he’s so invested in their lives, he’s the man that wanted to be a husband and a father and thinks of your family as the greatest blessing

yes, he does try to get the kids (and himself) out of any dentist situation, but he knows you’re right and agrees that “we all should go to the doctor’s every once in a while, right kiddo?”

BEGS to be the party clown and dresses up in the silliest costumes to make sure your kids laugh and have a good time

connie loves to paly-pretend shows like the x factor and he’s making you all either prepare a choreo or a theatrical piece and then makes you pretend to be the judge of the performance and he and the kids dance or act for you and you have to give out scores (he does the commentary too, he’s using your daughter’s unicorn brush as a mic) (SHE insisted)

connie likes plants, he always tends to his tomato pot (and is the happiest whenever he gets some ripe ones in the summer) and he also keeps basil and oregano on the window seal and chops off some fresh leaves if you needed it for your cooking

i love domestic connie, please don’t write him as a plug/w€€d smoker bf all the time

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 3

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Reader is a bit unhinged and wants din to kill her. Din is a simp and he’s known reader for less than a day

Author’s Note: Thriving on our space cowboy

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Chase

“Before we leave, can I pick up a few things?”

She was walking in front of Mando —only a few steps but enough to not have her feet stepped on. He was giving her more leeway than she anticipated, though she assumed it was because he didn’t see her as a threat. And she certainly wasn’t.

Not to him, at least. She was more of a threat to herself.

But she wanted to spend what money she had left on things to enjoy, even if it was to be enjoyed on a bounty hunter’s ship. The trip from Nevarro to Senex wasn’t necessarily long. It was five days max; apparently just enough time to put a bounty on her head, but given that the bounty hunter behind her didn’t seem to be a talker —well, she’d like to get something to entertain herself with.

“What do you need?” His voice was distinct through the modulator in his helmet, though she wondered what he really sounded like.

“Food, mostly,” she continued, pulling her backpack around to the front. He stopped her, however, taking the bag from her. For a moment, she gave him an annoyed look. “Give me my bag, Mandalorian.”

He ignored her, opening the bag to riffle through the contents. While she didn’t have anything bad in there, she certainly didn’t want someone just searching her things. But she supposed this is what she gets for running away.

When satisfied with his search, he handed it back to her unceremoniously. She huffed in annoyance, but went back into what she was originally doing —tallying up what she had and determining what she needed.

“I’d like to get something to read,” she went on, closing the bag up and putting it back on. “You don’t seem like someone who is going to entertain a guest —no offense, of course. I just figure I should entertain myself and stay out of your way.”

He made no indication that he had heard her, aside from a slight nod towards the market place. She hesitated a moment, looking up at him. Truthfully, she didn’t think he’d let her. While he wasn’t necessarily being nice, he wasn’t being overly aggressive towards her either. But his nod to the market was all she needed for her to know he trusted her just enough.

That would change soon, she was sure.

He wouldn’t take her money now and put her out of her misery. But she would find a way to make whatever money her mother offered her less appealing than simply being rid of her.

She had a week to get the Mandalorian to kill her.

*****

Mando didn’t let her out of his sight as they walked through the marketplace. She wasn’t making a run for it, and she had no weapons in her bag. But he didn’t like how easy this was –how willingly she just gave up. Karga was a lot of things, but his warnings were usually valid.

She’s a fighter.

But she didn’t even try to put up a fight.

Mando didn’t trust that. Something else was happening, and she was up to something. There was no other way around it. Unfortunately for her, however, he had figured that part of her plan out. Which just left figuring out the rest of her plan.

Grogu had been trailing beside her in his sphere, following her as she went through each stall. Mando listened as she spoke quietly to the child, asking him what he would be interested in or what he liked. Grogu only responded in little giggles and coos, reaching for the small things she held out to him. The kid finally settled on a stuffed tooka, though Mando was certain it was only because Grogu remembered eating one weeks ago.

Probably best not to mention that to her.

He stepped closer to Grogu, who held the toy up to show him. Mando reached over to brush a gloved finger against the toy, acknowledging it, before he returned his attention back to her. She was looking over a stack of books, fingers trailing over the spines. Something about the motion caught his attention, and he couldn’t help but watch her as she went through each book. Mando chalked it up to having to watch her, but he knew deep down that wasn’t why he was.

Her nails were painted —well, were previously, at least. The paint was chipping in places, but matched the fabric he had seen in her backpack earlier. A deep green, flecked with gold, that signified her actual position in the galaxy. But the nails were broken and jagged, shortened more so than they were supposed to be. If Mando had to guess, she had bitten them down at some point recently. He wondered why —what could cause her to be so wary that she turned to nail biting? What was in Senex —

“Do you like to read?” She asked, breaking his thought process as if feeling his gaze on her. A book was held up in his face, though he snatched it unintentionally harshly, and set it down.

“Don’t have time.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you like reading or not,” she retorted, glancing over at him as she picked up two more of the books.

Mando didn’t know how to answer the question. He couldn’t remember the last time he even sat down to read a book that wasn’t a manual or a quarry’s background files. Religious texts he read, though not recently.

“No,” was the safest answer, he supposed.

“What a shame.” And she sounded sincere.

Mando didn’t respond to the comment, instead choosing to step aside after she finalized her payment to guide her back outside. She didn’t look at him as she passed, though he couldn’t help himself as looked her over up close.

The hologram gave a good idea of what she looked like as a princess –beautiful, wide-eyed and regal –but Mando preferred her civilian appearance. It felt less forced, and she moved through the crowds with an ease that suggested that this wasn’t necessarily her first time wading through people. And she knew what she needed to wear; it wasn’t simply for show. It wasn’t to hide in plain sight. It was practical.

Meticulously picked out to ensure she not only played the part of a civilian traveler but would be able to withstand whatever environments she may have found herself in. Proper boots, laced and buckled up her calves with the legs of her pants tucked into them. An empty holster was wrapped around her thigh –and while it may be empty now, he was certain she probably didn’t plan to keep it empty if she had gotten any further in her runaway plans. Even up to the shirt and vest she wore, which were both simple enough in practicality. It all fit her well, shaped with the natural curves she had, but protected her against the elements as needed.

Someone taught her to do this. No princess would run away and have the knowledge to blend in and be practical without being taught.

As Mando moved to follow her out, she stopped short in front of him. He bumped into her and instinctively, he reached out to grab her shoulders to stop her from falling. However, she reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him.

“What are you –,”

“We need to leave, Mandalorian,” she ordered, pulling him back into the stall and towards the back exit.

Mando tried to argue with her, but she wasn’t running from him –she was running with him as she hurried out the back. If she hadn’t grabbed his hand and forced him with her, he would have chased her regardless –but as if she feared for his safety, she brought him with her. Mando grabbed the edge of Grogu’s bassinet, pulling it behind him so it would keep up.

She glanced over her shoulder occasionally, then finally pulled him into an empty alleyway. The buildings casted shadows that obscured them for the most part, but if one looked close enough, they would be able to make out his armor.

Back against the wall of the building, she pulled him against her as if trying to use him to shield her from view. Under the helmet, Mando’s brow furrowed as she ducked into his side –as if trying to make herself smaller than she already was. They were too close, too pressed together for him to move without brushing against her. And…he wanted to. But that meant he shouldn’t.

After several minutes, two droids with Senex markings passed by the alley, though they did not stop if they noticed the three hiding there.

When they were out of sight, Mando tapped her shoulder gently, as if to say the coast was clear. She pushed off the wall, away from his side, and peered around the corner. Relief flooded her features.

“It seems you’re not the only one who was looking for me,” she murmured, returning to her spot against the wall as she looked up at him. “If you want your credits –or your life, for that matter –then you want to avoid those two.”

“I avoid droids as it is,” he offered as a response, though he didn’t question her warning.

“Maker, they work fast,” she mumbled, stepping back into the fading daylight of Nevarro. “I think, if you’re going to deliver me alive, Mandalorian, we should be leaving.”

He wanted to correct her; tell her to simply call him Mando. It felt less formal, less like someone commanding him. But more so —he wanted her to call him Din. By his name. He knew better; it was a wanton desire. One that was just exasperated by how close they had been mere moments earlier.

Instead, he simply gave a nod and motioned for her to follow him.

*****

“No sign of the princess or the Mandalorian,” the B32-C droid reported back through the communicator.

In the sitting room of the house of the Senex senator, Calista hissed in annoyance, slamming her hand down on her table. “I do not want to pay that fool hunter thirty-five thousand credits —you were supposed to get to her before the guild picked up the bounty.”

“We were close, Lady Calista,” B33-C chimed in. “We will locate both and terminate the Mandalorian before the end of the week.”

“You better. If I have to do it myself, I will.”

The comms went silent, and Calista stood from her seat. Her hands clasped behind her back as she looked over the monitors with a deep frown.

“Wherever you are, child —I will find you. You cannot run from me forever.”

———

Taglist: OPEN

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Fifteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Fifteen Summary: Marshall agonises while Lori takes matters into her own hands.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Fifteen Warnings: slight angst, mild violence, smut, p in v sex,

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

Been a while since I wrote a sex scene with a character other than Sy! I hope you enjoy it.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Fourteen Part Sixteen

Marshall

Lori sedately followed me as I led her to her room. 

I was in no hurry, on the contrary, I would have liked to walk with her for a while, hold her hand and do some of the usual stuff you do with a girl you like. But that's not how this was going to go, not in this situation, so I folded my arms across my chest and kept my pace to match hers.

“Did you get everything you needed with Mike?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said softly, “the packages should be at the post office tomorrow.”

“I'll send Mike to pick them up in the afternoon.”

Her brows furrowed, but she nodded.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I told Mike I was going to hang out with him tomorrow afternoon. But it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, there will be plenty of afternoons.”

“No. You and Mike can do your thing. I will go and pick them up myself.”

“You will?”

“Sure. You seem to enjoy his company. You smile a lot with him.”

She lowered her eyes and grinned.

“See? Thinking about him makes you smile,” I chuckled. Her face dropped a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, but then shook her head, “I was thinking… Have you heard from Sy?.”

“No.” Her frown deepened. “Are you worried about him?”

She shrugged. 

“Do you miss him?”

She shrugged again, but with a forced carelessness that made it obvious that she was.

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

We stopped outside the door to her room. She made no move to open her door so I waited, leaning against the wall while she appeared to be thinking.

“What I said to you this morning,” she started, “what I accused you of, it was wrong of me.”

I shook my head. “Your reaction was completely understandable. We were out of line. And considering where you come from, it makes sense that you might see it the way you do.”

She raised her head and her normally steel blue eyes had taken on a dark smokey hue that sent a bolt of energy tingling through my nerves.

“I don’t see it that way anymore anymore,” she said, huskily.

For a moment I let myself entertain the fantasy that I could spend the night with her again without the mellowing effects of weed to kill my most feral instincts. Heat flooded my skin as I remembered the weight of her body against mine, the sweet citrus like smell of her hair, and the softness of her thigh. I didn’t think there was a snowman’s chance in hell that I could sleep next to her sober and not shred her clothes to pieces to get a taste of the silky hidden skin between her legs. 

I clenched my jaw as I shut that line of thought down fast. I hadn’t changed my mind from earlier; as far as I was concerned, I was no longer a party to the pact. However, I was not made of stone and I knew my resolution could only withstand so much temptation before it crumbled, so I turned towards my door. Then her hand came to rest on my bicep, her gentle touch halted my escape and my back went ramrod straight.

“Spend the night with me?” she asked, her tone so softly pleading that it took my breath away.

“I can’t,” I said, forcing the words out before I had a chance to say something else.

She withdrew her hand quickly, as if my reply had burned her.

The look on her face made me sick to my stomach. The rejection and confusion marring her dollishly pretty features was almost as bad as the accusatory look of betrayal she had given me that morning.

“You don’t want this,” I explained. “What you said this morning, you were wrong, but you were also right. What my Brothers and I did, what we agreed to, we had no right.”

“You said it was my choice.”

“We did, but we put you in an uncomfortable situation you didn’t deserve and one you don’t want, not really.”

“Oh and this situation,” she moved her hand back and forth between us before placing them on her hips, “is less uncomfortable? Rejection is what I deserve then?”

“Lori,” I said, forcing myself to keep a lid on the frustration that began to boil in my guts, “Do you deliberately misinterpret everything I say, or are you just childishly stubborn on purpose?”

Her jaw dropped and she rounded on me, poking her finger into the centre of my chest, forcing me to take backward steps until my back hit the wall.

“You’re a manipulative prick. All of you are. Was this the plan the whole time then? Playing with my feelings, deceiving me into agreeing to your ridiculous pact and then telling me it was a joke?”

“Lori–”

She pushed me then, her palms bouncing hard off my shoulders, and although it didn’t hurt, it was bloody annoying. I grabbed her hands, turning her in my arms until they crossed over her torso and her back pressed against my chest.

“Let me go,” she yelled while she struggled, pulling and yanking on my arms.

“Calm down,” I growled into her ear, trying desperately not to harden up as she twisted like a kitten trying to get free. 

“I’m not your plaything,” she hissed, “You’re supposed to be protecting me or have you forgotten what you’re being paid for?”

“And that’s exactly why I said no. Do you think I don’t want you? Do you not notice how when you’re in the room I can’t look away?”

She stopped fighting, her body was still tense, but she wasn’t thrashing. I dropped my head into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, my lips brushing against her tender flesh.

“Every inch of me wants you, wants to be inside you,” I mumbled as I my will began slipping through my fingers like sand. 

I released her and ran my hands over her body, until they rested against the burning hot skin of her belly where her tank top had ridden up in the struggle. Her hand covered mine and she didn’t stop me as I slid them under the thin fabric. I rumbled out a groan as the soft weight of her breasts filled my hand, and her hard little nipple teased my palm.

“You’re a constant, tormenting, burn in my chest. Right here,” I placed our hands over her heart, “I ache for you.”

She whined weakly, her body melted against mine as she turned her head towards me.

My lips were on hers before I could think. She was soft, warm, and so perfectly lush that my whole body shuddered and I groaned into her mouth. Without stopping the kiss I grasped her waist, guided us blindly to her door, and fumbled with the handle.

Lifting my lips from hers long enough to turn her, I took her to the bed and laid her on her back before capturing her mouth again. Her thighs fell apart beneath me and I spread my legs to make her widen them until I was grinding my trapped and throbbing cock against her heat. She gasped into my kiss and I didn’t hesitate to slip my tongue into the plush warmth of her mouth. I groaned at the taste of her as she kissed me back and sunk her fingers into my beard, nails scratching gently at my cheeks and jaw. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice told me to stop, that I shouldn’t take her like this. I lifted my head, trying to swallow my most violent basic instincts while I struggled to find the words I needed to stop this from going any further but my body was too raw and my mind was skirting too close to the edge of reason. Then I felt her move beneath me, her hips rocking, lifting up to meet mine and a greedy feral urge overtook any rational thought. 

Fuck it. I was hardly on track for sainthood anyway.

I growled, it's the only way I can describe the animalistic groan I released as pulled her tank over her head. Catching both of her slight wrists, I held them above her head in one hand while the other pulled her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cycled her long lush legs to help me peel her flushed body out of the skin tight clothes.

Below a small short patch of hair, her delicate smooth slit was glistening. As if time had decided to stand still, her legs lazily fell open and she blossomed before me, revealing with painstaking slowness her dewy centre. My cock jerked at the sight, desperate to plunge into that soft and sleek slit.

My fingertip circled her nipple, once, twice, three times, my head pounding as I watched the already pebbled skin grow tighter. She mewled as I took her little pink bud into my mouth; her hips rolled and her arms pulled against my hand while her head fell onto the bed with a long throaty moan. God, that sound made my already throbbing cock so fucking hard, I felt like I could fuck through a brick wall.

“Shh,” I soothed and slipped two fingers into her mouth. Her eager lips wrapped around them and her tongue slid over the pads while she sucked. With a rumble in my throat, I replaced my fingers with my tongue and she reciprocated, hungrily drawing me into her mouth with a torrid pull.

I ghosted my wet fingers over her slit, parting her, making her open for me. Fuck, she felt nice; delicate, small, warm, slick, swollen… just so fucking nice.

Barely able to control the primal part of my brain that screamed at me to completely ruin all that sweet softness, I flipped her onto her chest and lifted her hips until she was on her knees. Her cry of shock hardly slowed me as I clawed at my jeans and lowered them just enough.

“I want to take you like this,” I mumbled as I leaned over her and ran my hand from her hips, down the concave of her waist, and over her ribs until I cupped her breast. My cock nudged against her core and I felt her sharp intake of breath.

“Oh my God,” she whined.

Gathering her thick braid in my fist, I kissed her just below her hairline before turning her head towards mine. She was the perfect picture of a woman lush with arousal; eyes heavy lidded, cheeks rosy, her mouth parted as she panted in shallow breaths.

“Yes,” she whimpered, bobbing her head and chasing my lips.

I let her catch me and she kissed me hard, moaning softly as my tongue met hers. I pulled away but her teeth sank into my lower lip making me hiss and my hips jack. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“We’ll go slow next time,” I rasped, rising to my knees and I sunk into her molten velvet heat.

“Fuck,” we both groaned as our bodies met.

I stilled, the thrill of being inside her almost too much as she shuddered around me. I swept my hand down her spine to the back of her neck. Her skin was so smooth, supple, and even in this position, with my cock balls deep within her quivering core, she still had that seductive allure of feminine purity that I wanted to take apart piece by painstaking piece.

What the fuck was I doing?

“Shit,” I muttered and started to pull out, “I’m sorry.”

Her hand shot back, grabbing hold of me and sliding down my still clothed arm until her hand held mine.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

All I could feel was the pounding of my heart, from my fingertips to my toes, to my cock. She squeezed my hand while she lifted her head, determination radiating from her fierce, stormy grey eyes. 

Then she moved.

Only a small twitch of her hips, but oh God, the tight, silky, slick friction was heaven. The hold she had on my hand grew tighter and she rocked again as a breathy moan floated from her throat.

“Fuck, Lori…” my voice trailed off as she continued the shallow erotic rotations of her hips and arching flex of her spine.

My lust overrode the last of my hesitations and I began countering her movements, rapidly dialling up the intensity until our bodies were crashing against each other. My fingers were digging into her hips while hers were clutching at the covers, our eyes were locked in a feverish hold, neither one of us able to look away.

“Come here,” I groaned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her up until her back rested against my chest. My hands moved all over her, mapping out every soft curve. 

She stretched, raising her arms to reach for me, turning my head and searching for my lips. Her kiss surged through my body, every muscle straining, the growing tension inside me had me heading for a release that was bearing down on me like a freight train.

I held her tight, one arm around her chest, my fingers mauling at her breast while the other skimmed over her taut, quivering belly going lower and lower until I brushed her clit. Her hips bucked as she cried into my mouth, and her pussy clamped down so hard on my cock, I almost lost it then and there.

Muscling her into place, I kept her still while I fucked her and worked her clit. She was trembling and her hands floundered, searching for purchase to steady herself as she got closer to the edge. I gathered her wrists in my hand and held them to her chest.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“I know, Lori, I know. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I whispered into her neck, the skin so hot and humid that it made my lips tingle.

“Marshall… Oh my God…” 

“Let go, Lori. I need to feel you.” 

I lifted my head and found her striking, heavy lidded eyes. She was flushed, skin reddened and shiny, panting and gasping, she was more breathtaking than ever.

“Look so beautiful.”

Her eyes widened then squeezed closed as her whole body grew taut and she let out a groaning curse. 

“Fuck, Lori. Just like that.”

Her body rolled as if she were fighting me off again. I moved with her, keeping my fingers where they needed to be, fighting my own release as hers milked and pulled hard on my cock. It was a futile fight. Just as her body went lax and her head lulled against my shoulder, a hot euphoric pulse worked its way through my body.

Gripping Lori tighter, I pulled her closer to me while I pumped up into her, everything focussed on chasing my impending high. The throbbing rush crashed over me in long heady waves, each tide surging through me into her, filling her up until I had nothing left and fell onto my heels, taking her with me.

The sudden silence of the room was jarring; the only sound came from us catching our breath. Still buried deep within her core, my arms were wrapped around her with one hand cupping the firm flesh of her breast and she rested her weight on my thighs. I was sweating through my shirt, my belt buckle cut painfully into calf, and my boots - I still had my fucking boots on - dug awkwardly into my ankles, but I dared not move. I endured the discomfort to avoid the inevitable crash back to reality. Maybe if I stayed still and held her long enough, I could ward off the impending shame and perhaps Lori wouldn’t come to her senses and regret what we had done.

The dead air stretched on and on. Neither of us spoke or moved and the longer it continued, the more I feared I had catastrophically fucked up. 

Then Lori’s hands covered mine and she laced her slim fingers between my thick ones. With some hesitation I rubbed my thumbs over her skin and kissed her shoulder. 

“Say something,” she whispered.

I kissed her some more, trailing my kisses up along the ridge of her shoulders to her neck.

“Something,” I muttered.

Lori shook her head with a snicker and leaned back into me, turning her head until she could look me in the eyes. She was smiling, her face beautifully blushing and glowing, errant tendrils of her voluminous hair stuck to her slightly dampened skin. I brushed the stray locks back, tucking them into her braid as best I could.

Sighing, I shifted and Lori got off my lap, and I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to unlace my boots. I felt her hands brush over the small of my back and she lifted my shirt to place a kiss against my spine.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” I told her, placing both boots neatly on the floor and dropping my jeans beside them.

“Neither did I,” she said, raising my shirt higher until I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her pull it over my head and drop it on the floor next to my jeans.

“Lori,” I said, rotating my body and capturing her cheeks in my hands, staring resolutely into her tempestuous blue eyes, “I don’t regret it.”

Mimicking my position, she raised her hands to my cheeks and replied just as assiduously, “Neither do I.”

From deep within my gut, a warm surge of relief flooded my nervous system, making my spine feel like jelly. Expelling a held breath, I snaked an arm around her back and guided her back to the bed. Climbing on top of her, I covered her with my body and hummed at the feel of her skin against mine.

“This time,” I told her, “we’ll go slow.”

[moodymisty]

In His Shadow

Author's Note: A fun, personal project for one of my favorite clones. Finally a fic that I actually feel somewhat pleased with; It just seemed to work out well. I hope other people think the same, or at least enjoy it.

Summary: Sev has always been very purposeful in his gentleness towards you, but you don't want that this time.

Relationships: Sev/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Clothed sex, Alleyway sex, Quickies, Getting boned by a clone in full armor, Unprotected sex, Mentions of alcohol, Big meanie Sev has two modes

Word Count: 4368

Ao3 Link

Sev has two sides.

He’s a romantic. You remember how surprised you'd been at that; How you'd read his messages to you that would be so heartfelt and dreamlike, telling you of pretty skylines on faraway planets and how he can still feel your touch on his skin. What he says could be at times be considered poetry in it's own unique way, sending them to you in the middle of the night when he’s just off the battlefield and the adrenaline was just starting to wear off, or when he's stuck on Kamino in the same routine since he was first popped from his pod.

Sev is also gruff. Cut off, quiet, to the point; Rough.

He rarely speaks a word at times, eyes always watching and thinking. Clone Commando training has sharpened him to a point, and leaves him stern, tight-lipped, and at times overprotective of the few things he loves.

You love both sides of him. You couldn’t get one without the other, and you wouldn’t want to in the first place.

But it would be wrong to say that you always want him to be a romantic. You love him, but you also wouldn’t mind if for a night, he didn’t handle you like you were a fragile figurine.

You know he can do it. You’ve seen glimpses of it, when he’s moments away from losing control, the edges fraying like a shoddy old rope about to snap. But he always manages to hold it together, to kiss your lips like it’s the first time, to gently cradle your neck instead of grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Maybe it just needs to be teased out of him. You know some of the things that make him hot under the collar, so you think you have the gathered up confidence to do so.

It helps that Sev is a little looser than he usually is tonight; Not by much, you don't think he'd ever let himself get plastered, but a good drink and some post deployment rest have made him just the tiniest bit more malleable. The same goes for the rest of his brothers, who sit at the same booth all relaxing over some drinks. Scorch and Boss have ordered the most by far, but no one is truly drunk yet.

You take a quick glance outward and note that the bar isn’t too busy; But the Deltas aren’t the only clones having been given a rare break from the war effort, so there’s still plenty of colored armor organized in batches throughout the bar.

The shinies will intermingle, but clones painted with the colors of a particular squad or battalion will usually stay within groups of their own. It's more so just familiarity than anything else, but it's something that's hard not to notice. The behavior is even more so common with the rare squads of Commandos who come in here or presumably other clone friendly bars, as they always stay with just their pod-brothers; And everyone else eager to stay away and let them do so.

It’s less so a suggestion and more a general rule of thumb; You don’t fuck with Commandos.

They are stronger, larger, and more antisocial. And when you pick a fight, you get the whole squad. Rarely do you deal with only one. As such, it’s not out of the ordinary for Clone Commandos to have bubbles around them, as many are too nervous to risk offsetting one of them. Rightfully so. And you aren't dealing with the usual training; Commandos are a whole 'nother level, at least according to troopers you've spoken to. Hell, one of them still thinks you have a screw loose for asking Sev out all those cycles ago.

Maybe you just have a thing for the odd ones.

“Come on, who wouldn't be confident in our flawless record?” Looking back across the table instead of staring off, you join back into the conversation. Scorch downs the last of his drink, and you’ve lost count of how many down he is now.

"I just think you all should keep being careful,” You look towards Fixer. “At least for Fixer’s sake. He has to deal with you lot the most.” He rolls his eyes, but hopefully for his sake they'll listen even a little bit. You'd like Sev to remain in one piece.

"Don't bother. They'll never listen. Not like I haven't tried a million times." Fixer shrugs his shoulders in less so defeat, and more so acceptance. He knows his brothers well. It makes you laugh, but you can't help but worry about Sev's recklessness at times; He always promises to come back home, but you can't help thinking about something happening.

But now isn't the time to worry about that sort of stuff anyways. Not when he's right beside you.

As if he felt you looking at him Sev turns his head slightly and looks down at you right against his shoulder, his eyes softening just a tad. He gives your knee a little squeeze, before taking back his hand. He throws his arm back around the top of the booth, so it lays just behind your head.

He's said before he loves the soft feeling of your skin, and once admitted in a moment where his lips were looser than normal that it distracted him. It's a weakness of his, and one that as you'd planned earlier, intend to exploit quite heavily.

It's been weeks since you've touched him, and now that he's finally back safe from deployment, you want him riled up.

Hidden underneath the table gently take Sev’s hand, holding it with both of yours. You keep it like that for just a bit, before finally making your move.

Slowly you pull his hand until it lands on your thigh, his fingers brushing just what would be the middle. Not high, but close. He glances over at you curiously for a moment, before looking back to his brothers. You've done nothing crazy, so he doesn't take too much mind to it; It's not as if he wasn't doing something like it moments ago.

You don’t even know what the rest of them are talking about anymore; Scorch is a blabbermouth when he drinks and conversations are changing so fast. You're more distracted by Sev now anyways, and you can feel your face start to heat up just a bit at the thoughts running through your head. You fan feel his large hand gently squeezing the meat of your thigh, feeling it mold underneath as he moves his fingers in an almost mindless gesture. Or maybe it isn't so mindless? He's sitting upright a little more now, and seems a bit more on edge.

With one hand you place it over his again, and slowly you begin pulling it upwards towards the tops of your thighs. His fingertips fall between, and he can feel how warm you are through the fabric of his gloves.

Sev this time gets keen on your plan, however. He only has to turn his body a tad, before he leans down into your space. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear, and you swear you can smell him even through the liquor and greasy food. But no one can hear him but you.

“Thin ice.”

Is all he has to whisper in your ear.

If his goal was to stop you, whispering in your ear with a voice so deep like chocolate over gravel isn’t going to calm you. If anything, he only makes your thighs tighten together, a jolt of sensation traveling down your spine directly to your cunt. You can feel his now warmer than usual skin as he presses his forehead to the side of your face, still looking like he's whispering something in your ear for a moment.

You have no plans to heed his warning however; And in another feat of daring, you slowly take a few of your fingers and slip them into his glove, your skin brushing against his as you try to take it off. You can hear his disapproving hum- even though he makes no effort to actually stop you- and once you manage to get his glove off your thighs spread just enough that you push his hand deeper between them.

He can feel the softness of your skin just below the hem of your dress, and given how sitting has risen it up slightly, he wouldn’t have to move much more to reach their apex. In fact, he swears he can feel your clothed pussy brush over the outer side of his hand. You only need to move his hand once to rub against the fabric of your underwear, before he pulls his hand away.

Sev leans back to look fully at you, and with one glance at his expression you know it’s over.

That ice he mentioned? It’s cracked under your feet, and you’ve fallen into the dark water. He is going to kill you.

Sitting up more rigid you clear your throat in an attempt to get the rest's attention, while also trying to ignore Sev glaring holes into the side of your head. Maybe you should've done this a little later, or maybe a little more slowly.

“Sorry guys, I’ve had a great night tonight, but I think I should head out.” Scorch is loud, louder than usual with so much spotcha in him, groaning at you.

“Oh come on! Don’t leave me with the two hardasses! You’re the only other fun one!”

You ignore his plea, and with hands pressing on the edge of the table you get up, moving to slide out. Sev follows, almost like a shadow. When you’re both standing he has a hand gripping the fabric on the small of your back tight.

‘Hurry it up.’, is what the silent gesture clearly says. You back up into him just a tad and your body presses against him, and you hear him make a quiet noise.

“Sorry Scorch. I’ll make it up to you all later." You take one step back, giving a small smile. "See you guys next time.”

With hasty farewells given, Sev's hand on your back pushes you in the direction towards the back of the bar, where there’s a hallway; At the end a door leading into the alley. It’s mostly storage back here and whatnot, but it avoids having to push through the crowds at the front of the bar, which is what Sev wants right now. He wants the soonest possible spot where he can surely cuss you out for this, feeling himself strain against his armor. No matter now many times he attempts to make room for his heated neck or adjust his codpiece, nothing gives him relief.

You glance up at him while you both walk, before looking down and seeing the way his hand is gripping the edge of his own helmet; You fear any stronger, and he might snap it.

Pushing the back exit door open you both quickly shuffle through it, the warm summer air feeling much cooler than the stuffy heat from inside the bar. Neither of you comment on it, despite there clearly being some unsaid words being between the two of you.

They definitely aren't about the weather, however.

The moment the door closes and the two of you are finally alone, he grasps your shoulder, pushing your back against the wall. He stands in front of you, trapping you against it as an unmovable force. Though not that you'd want to leave.

The alleyway is dim; The lights are burning out and the shell around them is old and worn. As such Sev’s face is shadowed, his body pressing you hard against the wall.

“What were you thinking?”

His voice is strained, glaring at you while you sink into his shadow. You purse your lips and roll your eyes.

“Can I not hold your hand?” Sev’s tone of voice is borderline venomous, strained as the rough fabric of his glove slides along the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“You were not just holding my hand. You know it.”

You do, but half the fun was pretending otherwise. Especially since that was another part of teasing him.

Your can feel the rough texture of the brick and ferrocrete through your clothes, all the while Sev’s chestplate is nearly pressing against your own chest. His helmet, which he’d been holding in his hand drops to the ground, settling upright so now both hands can grip at your form.

Leaning down his lips are ghosting against yours, and you can just barely feel them brush over your own as he whispers.

"You did that all on purpose, didn't you?"

He hears you let out a breathy laugh.

"Maybe." It didn't seem like Sev had the chance to shave since coming back, so the stubble on his face is rough when it brushes against your skin.

"Would you have kept going if I didn't stop you?" You more than likely would've hauled him off far before things got crazy, but it's not to say you wouldn't have dragged out the torture just a little bit more.

"...Maybe."

You feel his hands tense against your waist, and in one smooth motion you go from facing him to the wall, to your chest pressing against it. His hands slide downward to grip your hips and pull them towards his groin, forcing your hands to press into the rough texture of brick to keep steady. He takes a step closer, trapping you harder against the wall. One of his hands leaves your hip, pulling the front of your skirt up before sliding forward to slip between the front of your underwear and stomach.

It lingers for a moment, as if he's internally debating something; Before suddenly the tips of his fingers slip below the hem of your underwear, and you can quickly feel them roughly pressing against the soft mound of flesh just above your cunt.

“That little head of yours is going to get yourself in trouble,” He says, his lips pressing against the side of your neck just below your ear and feeling your blood thump with your heartbeat. It's a good thing you were in the market for trouble.

“Fuck Sev,” His gloved fingers finally slip between your folds, the rough texture teasing before he quickly removes them.

“Bite,”

He says, raising two of his fingertips to your lips. Gently you bit the fabric, helping him pull the glove off so he can shove it into one of his belt pockets with one hand. Once finished his hand quickly returns to it’s spot snug inside of your underwear, brushing across your clit as his fingers become slick before slipping inside of you.

"I missed you too..." He doesn't seem to respond to your silly little joke about his roughness, his fingers deep in your cunt as you pant.

The weather has been warming, so the evening is less a freezing nightmare and more so a cool evening, with just enough of a breeze to make your shiver. At least in normal circumstances, with Sev’s stuffy breath against your skin and his body right against yours, you feel more than warm enough- even with plastoid armor impeding.

You attempt to swallow your moans and keep quiet, even though the likelihood of anyone actually hearing you is quite slim. The music from the bar, and even more so the crowds of people, are producing an almost deafening amount of noise, not even considering the other ambient noise of the district; As well as the alleyway being tucked back between a maze of buildings.

“You’re so warm,” He growls in your ear, the deep gravel of his voice you can almost feel in your gut. It’s even deeper now, almost more so than it’s even been. At least that you remember hearing.

He hears your soft mewl as his fingers curl inside of you, the soft sounds audible even with the amount of noises from outside. Your thighs quiver just slightly before you manage to steady yourself, pushing back against him.

His hand slipping away from your cunt you can hear him fumbling with his armor, forehead leaning against the side of your head as he does so. You can feel how he has you nearly trapped against the wall, body looming over yours.

You know the moment he’s managed it, as suddenly you can feel his groin- and subsequently the outline of his cock through his bodyglove- against your ass. He groans, in both relief and ache as he feels your soft body against him. He's slow however, taking his time pressing his hips against you, lips against the corner of your mouth.

“You act all needy, and now you’re going to make me wait forever?” Sev’s grip noticeably tightens around your hips, slipping along the sides of your underwear and wrenching them down around the middle of your thighs.

“You’re really trying to test my patience, aren’t you?” Sev is a patient man, he has to be at times given his trigger discipline, but somehow you always manage to make it run thin. You turn your head over your shoulder in an attempt to look up at him.

“I thought I already did; It’s why you dragged me out here to-” Sev’s cock pressed harder against your ass, while his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

“You need to be quiet,”

He says, before pulling back and tugging at the seam of his body glove, pulling out his cock to slide against your cunt. Instantly it becomes slick against your outer lips, Sev letting out a shaky groan as he grinds between your thighs. It makes you press your body almost backwards towards him, even though you don’t have much room to move.

You can hear the strain in his voice, clearly already pent up from weeks apart. He might not say it, at least not often, but you know that's the case.

You gain a bit of room when he pulls back just far enough, though only to press his cock against your entrance and slowly sheath himself inside of you. While he isn't overly rough, he certainly isn't gentle; You're absolutely going to feel it in the morning. The feeling makes you gasp; The angle making him feel even larger, if that’s even possible.

The hem of your dress lays on the small of your back, pushed up by Sev while the front remains somewhat in place. He makes you suddenly gasp as his hips hit your ass, fully sheathed inside of you as the rough fabric of his bodyglove and sharp edges of his armor press against your exposed skin.

Even though he had just hissed at you to be quiet, he’s not exactly setting a good example.

You can hear the lewd sounds as he fucks you, as well as the grunts and groans from deep within his throat. Sometimes he swears, sometimes he has a moment where he mumbles your name against your skin, though it holds less sweetness than usual. Not to say he isn’t loving, but he’s more, animalistic.

He isn't saying those usual little mutters of incomprehensible praise, or giving soft touches, instead gripping your hips and driving into you hard enough to almost press you into the wall, borderline desperately fucking you. Your knees keep wobbling, unstable though Sev's grip is helping keep you upright. Your underwear slides farther down to your knees, upper thighs slick from how wet your are.

“I love it when you act like this,” His hips slam into yours harder, making you moan loud enough that you quickly clap a hand over your mouth for a moment.

“Rough? Fuck you with all my armor on like this? That why you kept acting like a tease?”

His teeth gently nip at your skin, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave dents. It’s not too hard, he’s teetering right on the line. Like he knows exactly where it is, as he’s had to steer clear of it. Now that he knows you aren’t made of glass, he can step just a bit closer to it.

“Want me to put the helmet back on?”

He teases, the deep gravel of his voice you can feel directly in your cunt. Next time you’ll consider the bucket, but your little escapade is already running on borrowed time.

He’s close, you can feel the way his face is so hot against yours, and how he can barely keep an even pace; Now so less fast and hard, and more uneven but slower, and deep. He's still nowhere near gentle, fucking you for all he's worth enough to feel like your feet are going to leave the ground.

His hips stutter, slowly almost to a crawl as he grits is teeth, hearing it in your ear as he groans as he finishes inside of you. Your body feels so warm, almost overwhelmingly hot; The building the only source of cold feeling.

Slowing down you feel his one hand slip from your hip back to your front, sliding over your already battered pussy. You just need that little bit more, heart thumping against your chest and lower stomach tight and twisting in knots.

His hand presses against your clit harder, almost rough- too rough- making you gasp and bite your lip. He wants you to cum on his cock and is on a mission to do so, his teeth scraping against the heartbeat he can feel against his lips.

“Fuck, fuck Sev-”

So so close, right on the edge...

He can feel your cunt tighten around him as he finally coaxes it out of you, your knees barely able to hold yourself up even with with being pressed and held so tight by Sev. Your breath leaves a moist patch on the wall, hands scratched and sore. All of you is sore, and will be even more so tomorrow.

But you did coax it out of him, with this being the goal. So while it this was the cost, you consider it more than worth it.

“Fuck,” Sev pants, his body heavy against yours- even more so with the added weight of his armor. “We should get out of here. Before someone sees.”

The likelihood of someone coming back here, other than maybe a clone with a similar idea as you, is incredibly slim. But needless to say you still agree. You're now a disheveled mess; Your dress is wrinkled and underwear stretched, a few stitches snapped and what amount of makeup you'd been wearing is now far less clean than it had been. It still looks in place, but you can see where your eyes had almost been watering, or your lipstick smudged across your face.

And Sev's; He's sporting a little kiss mark on the corner of his mouth but you elect not to tell him about it because of how good it looks against his tan skin and stubble.

Leaning away from the wall, the way Sev had you for so long it made your feet almost numb, stinging like little pinpricks. It makes them harder to walk on, your knees wobbly and body still hot.

“Just, give me a minute.” Sev’s hand weighs gently on your hip even after you gather you bearings, looking up at him. He gently brushes a chunk of hair from your face as you fix your clothes, before he follows you. He stays close the whole time, a hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t give me that look,” He says, even as you make sure for the fifth time your clothing is totally fixed before emerging from the back alley. Once you do his hand leaves your back, but he's still staying quite close.

“What look?”

He doesn’t answer, just looking down at you with a firm set brow, while hailing a taxi with his hand.

You both squeeze inside, and you give the address back to your place. While Sev doesn’t mind the barracks as much as the average clone, he’d still much rather go back to your place than them. Especially after everything.

You could more than do for a bit of a lie down after all of that, and surely Sev will join you. You only have him till sunrise, so you'll also like to get in some nice, quiet time.

He seems all for that as well, as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

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

It’s in the mess hall after he's returned to the base, that Scorch finally decides to pry into Sev’s absence, doing so over a tray of lukewarm soup. The subpar food isn't of any interest to Scorch, especially since gossip is on the menu, and Sev was caught by them sneaking back into the barracks far later than he should've been.

They won't tell, but it's not as if they aren't going to pester him about it.

“So…” Sev looks up, just knowing that was a warm up sound to the question he knows is going to be thrown at him.

“How’d it go with the princess?” Sev takes a bit of his own food, not even bothering to look up at his brother. He knows Scorch is referring to their abrupt absence at the bar, and that's where his intel ends.

“None of your business.”

Fixer isn’t even going to step into this minefield of a conversation, and even makes effort to avoid eye contact and thus being roped in. He continues eating his food as normal, and hoping it eventually sizzles out.

“Oh what, did you finally scare her off with your shitty attitude?” Boss gives Scorch a stern look;

‘Play nice’, as he’s starting to tread into territory that is beyond his sort of teasing jokes.

Sev seems to have the matter settled on his own, however. He gives Scorch one look that would boil anyone else’s blood, along with the cover of unwavering confidence.

“She doesn't seem to mind it.”

Scorch rolls his eyes and resists the urge to audibly gag.

“Ugh, you two were made for each other. It’s disgusting.”

[pedrostylez]

How The Crow Flies - pt. 6

Javier Peña x fem!reader x Frankie Morales crossover

Word count: 3k

Chapter Summary: The Triple Frontier crew gets the information they need to raid the house; you ignore Javier's calls

Chapter Warnings and Disclaimers: 18+ only. I am not responsible for what you read on the internet. You have been warned! Locations and descriptions of places may be inaccurate in comparison to each story (Narcos and Triple Frontier). Timelines are obviously different between the two stories, so we are going to meet in the middle and say we are in the early 2000s. These are not necessarily canon characters in regard to how they act, how they treat people, and their current relationships. DUBCON, Mentions of SA, SMUT!!!! oral f receiving, dirty talk, Frankie is struggling with addiction and you're it, baby

A/N: I realize that this is a very Frankie-heavy few chapters; do not worry, Javi makes a return eventually. You're not ready for the next chapter okay I'm just saying

Taglist: @thevoiceinyourheadx @suzdin @survivingandenduring @bariskaplans @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @paleidiot @darkheartgatita @missladym1981

Sweat sticks in between your shoulder blades, walking down the now familiar path to the back of Lorea’s home. A smile comes to your lips, unable to hold it back as you recall that just moments ago he was in the car passing yours. His window rolled down during the checkpoint to let you through, and he nodded as he drove by. 

He nodded. 

He has no idea who you are. 

It gave you confidence to know that you were at least tricking the highest man of authority in this part of the jungle. Your ears perked at the sound of the otherwise still jungle rustling with movement. 

It reminded you that you couldn’t trick the man lurking in the trees, smirking at you when you made direct eye contact before entering the home. His brown eyes somehow shining in the darkness, the flutter of his eyelashes hitting his cheek as he winked at you.

He hadn’t done more than say he knew you weren’t a whore, but what else he knew was still a mystery. You had to remain careful, quiet and unassuming. 

Beat him at his own game. 

“Come here, bonita.” One of the guards calls, reclined in one of the living room seats with his friends surrounding him, laughing. You’re shaken out of your thoughts, turning to him with a sly little smile that you have perfected during your time here. “I’ll give you a stack of American money this time around if you do a good job.”

The term “American money” peaks your interest, the distinction between that and what you had been paid previously. Was this the money that everyone was talking about? You sink to your knees in front of him, tilting your head and giving him the biggest smile you can manage. “What do you mean?”

His breathing has picked up, chest rising and falling in anticipation as his fingers are trying to undo his pants as quickly as possible. “I’ll get you a stack from the safe.”

Bingo. 

You nod, lowering your eyes to the bulge in his jeans, thinking over how you will follow him to the safe itself. “Only if you’re allowed?” You ask quietly, trying to remain as innocent looking as possible. You don’t want him to get in trouble, afterall; he’s your most frequent customer. You can’t for the life of you remember his name. 

He nods so quickly and aggressively you think that his head will fly off his neck. “Boss won’t mind.”

Frankie feels much calmer than usual, watching you walk into the house this time. A silent understanding that what you’re doing won’t affect him, and if anything you’ll be giving him information too. At least, that’s the impression he is under after you sucked him off again in the shower the other day. 

He thinks it is sound reasoning. 

He sits back against the tree, listening to Santiago over his ear piece. “Was worried she wasn’t going to last.” He grumbles, clicking off the microphone after a sigh. 

It’s silent for another moment before he hears Redfly question, “Got scared of the security guards?”

“Not sure…was told she ditched early a few weeks ago, but she seems to have figured it out.” Frankie can hear Santiago’s shrug through the ear piece. He thinks of Yovanna whispering in Santiago’s ear most nights, likely in his bed or hers, and he rolls his eyes. 

Then, Benny’s voice. “‘Saw she had a bloody lip the first week. I would have left early too.”

Frankie’s stomach clenches, remembering the first couple days that you had stumbled out of the back of the house with that fresh cut. He remembers how he saw it and didn’t say anything, because at the time it didn’t seem worth it to mention. Not worth bringing attention to something that wouldn’t matter in the long run. But now, suddenly–

“Fish, you got eyes on her?” Santiago rings in his ear again, snapping Frankie out of his thoughts. He looks to the door, your figure shadowed but prominent near the back entry. 

“She’s still inside.” He says quietly, squinting to try and see better when you twirl and your laughter reaches his ears. “Talking them up.”

“I’m gettin’ real tired of waiting. When are we raidin’ this place?” Will chimes in. 

“When we have some actual information.” Santiago spits.

You step out of the house, your purse over your shoulder and a large smile on your face. You’re holding a paper bag with both of your hands, looking in the trees briefly before stepping into the path. 

“Boys, she’s got a bag.” Frankie whispers, hoping you don’t call for him before he can send the information out. “Paper–can’t see in it.” You step down the path out of Frankie’s sight. You’re not stopping for him today, disappointment roiling through his blood. He shakes his head at himself, thinking he should have known better than to get too attached. “Anyone got eyes on her?”

“Yeah I’ve got–” Will says quietly through the ear piece, cut off before he rushes. “She tripped, paper bag is full of money boys. Hundred dollar bills.”

“She trafficking?” Redfly whispers. 

Frankie rolls his eyes again; Redfly always assumes the worst. Understandably, of course, but not with the context that Frankie has, and with the knowledge that Yovanna is the one in charge of the money, he shouldn’t think that. He goes to correct him, but Benny beats him to it. “She must have given them a show. Proves the money is there, boys.”

“Meeting tonight. All done for the day.” Santiago says, clicking off without another word. 

Frankie sighs, wondering what it was that you did for the money. His chest tightens at the thought, pushing it away in the hopes that you would be at his door when he returned. 

The steam off your coffee rolls up to your face, watching the motel quietly in the corner of the cafe. Calculations in your head tell you that you have 52 hours until you have to return to your post back with Javi. He’s been calling you nonstop, not leaving messages or text but calling twice a day. 

You roll your eyes when you feel the tell tale vibrations coming from your pocket. The idea that he would be calling you more now was almost laughable, but after the last conversation you had with him, you're not surprised. Begrudgingly, you pull out your phone, surprised to see Yovanna’s name on the caller ID. You scan the road in front of you, pressing the receiver to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey!” She chirps over the speaker. 

Your eyes remain on the building in front of you, watching the cars. “Hey Yovanna, what’s going on?”

“Just wanted to tell you that you are absolutely loved by the guys. Andres can’t get enough of you.” She sounds happy, suggestive in how she uses the man’s name. That must be who you sucked off this morning. 

She prattles on, saying they are going to give you an advance of money in the hopes that you will stay for a few more days. “Oh, I can’t stay, I have to go back for a little while. But I’ll be back in a week or so?” You say calmly, continuing to survey the road in front of you. 

It goes silent on the phone, and your focus comes back to the phone in your hand. Yovanna takes a deep breath, “The uh…the lease is up at the end of this week and...you won’t need to come back next week.”

You frown, confusion racing through your brain and how to ask what exactly is going on. “The lease? I would stay an extra day if I could–”

“It’s not you!” She says quickly, a faux laugh reaching your ears. “Just, I’m not going to be around next week, with the lease ending. I don’t want you here if I’m not here…I’ll have to find a new place for you to stay!”

You watch a car filled with men-Frankie in the passenger seat-pull into the parking lot across the street and you shake your head. “You don’t have to find a place for me, you gave me the job.” Something feels off in the pit of your stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me the lease was going to be done so soon?” 

Through the speaker you hear a car door slam just as Santiago gets out of the car. You freeze, straining to listen. “Just don’t come back, okay?” She says quickly, waiting for your quiet reply of of course, sorry Yovanna before she says “Don’t apologize. Thank you…for all your help.” and hangs up the phone. 

As you hang up and watch the men pile out of the vehicle, each nodding to each other and glancing at their watches as if they have agreed on a time, the gears in your head begin to turn, and you look down to your phone again to call Javi. 

“Tonight, Fish. No staying in and avoiding us.” Benny calls from his door, looking through the openings of the metal stairs up to Frankie. 

Frankie grunts in acknowledgement, ignoring any other comments being thrown at him and unlocking his room door to slide inside. He glances around briefly, all items still where they were left the night before, taking off his hat and setting it on the coffee table. 

He’s conflicted, desperately wanting to see you again before the inevitable raid and fleeing they will be doing. He also doesn’t want to disappoint himself, knowing that nothing can continue with whatever is happening between the two of you. 

Lying, fucking, pretending; all things he’s experiencing with you. Craves with you. 

He could just leave you to whatever it was that you were doing–he didn’t actually have to know, did he? You dropping that bag of money in front of his team proves that what you’re doing doesn’t affect them. 

Lost in his thoughts, he’s letting his boots slide off and a sigh leave his lips, before he hears a soft knock at his door. He’s too quick to open it, holding his breath when he sees you in front of him. He inhales as subtly as he possibly can when you slip past him into the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“‘You have a habit of falling?” He asks, watching as you take off your own shoes like you plan on getting comfortable–plan on staying. 

“Nice trick, wasn’t it?” You giggle, batting your eyelashes at him. “I figured someone would be watching.”

“How did you get paid that much?” He grinds out, trying to hold himself back. He doesn’t want to focus on this nagging thing in his chest, something he could potentially identify as jealousy. No–he wants to focus on the mission he was sent here for. 

You smirk, shrugging. “I have my ways. Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” You call him out, tilting your head as he runs his hands through his hair, huffing out a heavy breath. 

“Where was he keeping it?” Frankie presses, fingers tapping anxiously against his scalp. Maybe if he focuses on the facts, on the mission, he can stop this feeling in his stomach bubbling up into whatever he was afraid of it being. 

You watch him, curious. “What do I get if I tell you?”

He freezes, watching for a second longer before a switch flips. Frankie can’t help himself–like his body is working with a separate mind, watching himself from overhead as he kneels in front of you. His knees crack, thudding on to the carpet and looking up at your body. He hears your gasp, watches how your eyes widen and darken, watching him before you. 

Frankie licks his lips, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. “My mouth. My hands–whatever you want.”

You stand silent, mouth slightly opened as you breathe deeply. 

His hands reach forward, pulling you by the hips closer to him. His mouth waters, at eye level with your belly button and he swears he can smell you. The want that is in his own pants, reflected in yours. “If I feel you right now, will you be wet?”

When he looks up again you’re already staring back at him, nodding silently. He moves the skirt of your dress out of the way-changed from what you wore into the jungle, and moves the palm of his hand over the front of your panties. 

Warm and humid under his fingers, sliding down to where the fabric thins and becomes wet, he smiles. “Where was the money, hermosa?”

You swallow roughly, hands on his shoulders and digging your nails in. “A-A safe.” You close your eyes as his fingers move your underwear to the side. He notices how you shuffle your legs apart as slowly as possible, as if to not scare him away. 

He lightly runs his first and second finger over your slit, exposing your clit and letting the wetness he had gathered on his fingers to circle around you. “Where was the safe?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, feels like he is looking at himself from the ceiling instead of being in front of you. An out of body experience that he can relive over and over again.

The bite of your fingers at his shoulders has him suddenly back in his body, listening to your moan. “The master bedroom.” You close your eyes, throwing your head back to expose the column of your throat to him. He wants to plant a kiss there, bite down on your collarbone, but he remains on his knees. “There’s a cabinet in the way. I-It was like a secret door.”

Frankie hums happily, letting his other hand wrap around the back of your thighs and squeeze to maneuver that leg over his shoulder. “What a good girl, telling me that.” He growls out, leaning his mouth forward and suctioning around your clit. 

It’s quick, how you wrap his hair around your fingers and tug. How you sigh happily and do your best to not lose your balance, but have to reach behind you to hold yourself up against the back of the couch. 

Frankie devours you; he feels dizzy with how hard he is pushing his face into your heat and consuming your scent and taste. He closes his eyes, blissfully letting himself get lost in the addiction of you.

The only thing that may be better is that now he is convinced he will have a full bank account when he leaves Colombia. 

When you come, Frankie doesn’t even realize you had been warning him. Your calls of “Frankie, honey–” And “Oh fuck–” hadn’t penetrated his concentration, his dedication to tasting you. 

When he pulls away, looking up to your heaving chest and half glazed over eyes, he realized why he had devoted the time to you. Looking up at you he’s not sure he can go without you. He stands, still close to you but rests his hands on either side of the couch behind you. “When can I see you again?”

You huff, blinking until your eyes go wide and you laugh. “I am only here for a couple more days–”

Frankie shakes his head, knowing Santiago. The next two days will be full recon work, not just observing but notating down times that the family leaves. “Let me see you in three days.” 

You pause, pushing the skirt of your dress down and frowning. “I have to get back to–”

“Please.” He breathes, bringing his lips close to yours. He knows you can smell yourself on him, but you don’t seem to care as your bottom lip brushes against yours. Frankie thinks he will never see you again. 

He takes the chance, pressing himself against you and letting his mouth engulf your own. His tongue peeks out, dancing with yours briefly before he groans. 

You pull away quickly, confusion threading through your features. You shake your head, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. He wants to push back against you, but he obliges, taking a step back. 

Frankie thinks he’s fucked up now, sure that you’re going to leave without saying another word. But you don’t move, looking at the ground and thinking through something. You finally nod, stepping around him to the notepad that sits on the bedside table. 

You write an address, setting it down gently and looking back at him. “I’ll only be there for a couple more days.”

Frankie shakes his head. “I’m telling you the truth, I can only be there on the third day. Santiago will–” He stops himself, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He smells you again and feels himself twitch in his pants. “I have to tie up loose ends. I want to see you again.”

You watch him, eyes wide and unmoving. “I don’t know that I can stay that long.”

Frankie feels like he might have to get on his knees again. He doesn’t reach for you, holding his hands wide, pleading. “Just one more time.”

You swallow, furrowing your brow and looking away. He can see how your eyes get glassy, confusion clear in your expression. When you shake your head, it's like you’ve cleared your thoughts and put up a wall. “You can come by and see if I am still there.”

Frankie nods, heat rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment. The fact that he begged you, makes him question if he should even bother showing up. 

But when you head for the door and he follows to open it, you turn around and lunge yourself at him, kissing him and pulling him by the shirt closer to you. His arm wraps around your back, keeping you close to him. 

His lips pull from yours, a smirk unable to stay down as his other hand reaches up to rub softly at your cheekbone. No words are further exchanged, you slipping out the room and across the street while he holds the door open to watch you. 

Frankie glances to the stairs, the metal holes making it easy to see to Benny’s door. It too is wide open, watching him with a knowing smile on his face.