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albatmobile · 9 months ago

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a conundrum of redheaded proportions pt. 2

the second and final part of this ask!

𓅪 Rated: E | 6.5k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] || ao3

It seems like fate that not even three days later Batman’s listing you off with Jason and him to lead a low-stakes mission with some of the younger, noob League members.

“Seems like we keep bumping into each other,” Roy teases you lightly before your squad’s debrief.

You quirk your head questioningly and make to apologize as if you’ve actually bumped into him.

“No, I just meant the other night,” he trails off unsurely, wondering if it’s too taboo to bring up you seeing him naked and hard in the hallway.

You don’t say anything, obviously, but you hardly even move.

Shit, he fucked up. Again.

“Er,” Roy clears his throat subconsciously, “anyway, sounds like it should be a pretty easy in-and-out type of deal, right?”

You nod bashfully and give a lame thumbs up.

Roy watches Jason sign something to you with a cheeky tinge to his movements and you respond with a flurry of sharp motions. None of it being anything Roy comes remotely close to understanding.

Roy clears his throat and both of you stop with your hands mid-sign, faces nearly touching through the armor of your masks.

It’s Roy’s turn to quirk his head.

“She said she,” Jason starts out in an obvious lie that has you instantly flicking him off. “I didn’t even say anything yet, beautiful.”

Put aside that Jason and you had just completely left Roy out of the conversation, now Jason’s giving you nicknames?

Fuck this.

“Uh,” Roy barely contains the urge to punch Jason in the stomach, knowing it’d only be in vain with Jason’s insanely padded bulletproof vest.

You huff in aggravation, looking from Jason to Roy.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.”

Okay, now Roy really feels like punching Jason. He’s supposed to be helping Roy hook up with you, not trying to steal you away for himself.

Roy’s feeling the second-hand heat from the glare you’re undoubtedly shooting Jason’s way. He can’t help but feel like you’re talking about him and he really wants to know why Jason would be refusing to tell him.

You smack at his arm and clearly sign something before motioning your head toward Roy.

“What’d she say?”

You shake your head in your hand.

Jason pats Roy on the back. “First off, just because someone’s translating doesn’t mean you talk to her through me, dumbass,” Jason says as he motions to you. Roy gulps as he follows the movement. “Second of all, she said she doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Consider it gotten.

“Yeah, no,” Roy lies, sheepishly tugging his trucker hat lower. “No wrong idea from me, that’s for sure. Nada, baby.” God, can he shut the fuck up? “Sorry,” he says finally.

You shake your head hesitantly and look down at your hands like you’re unsure of something. When your head pops back up, you look to Jason before reaching over and squeezing Roy’s hand like a reassurance that you aren’t mad.

“Shit babe, you should already know you can squeeze more than that,” Roy spews. He slaps a freckled hand over his mouth as soon as his word vomit catches up to him, but by then, it’s too late.

If you weren’t mad before, you definitely seem upset now.

It’s as if his words electrocute you back to reality, jolting the realization that you’d actually gone ahead with the action.

“Jesus,” Jason shakes his head like he can’t believe either of you, “it’s like watching a goddamned train wreck in slow motion.”

Roy, personally, can’t believe he keeps fucking up so tremendously with you.

It comes as a relief to all three of you when your ride shows up and the mission begins, preventing any further awkward mishaps.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Jason takes control of the ship, sitting in the pilot’s seat before discreetly signing something to you.

Roy hears you ‘tch’ before you sign something that Jason doesn’t need to translate for him. Without another word, well, sign, you saunter out of the cockpit, throwing one last look over your shoulder at Roy before walking to the back of the vessel.

It’s not fair.

It’s really not when your waist goes in so perfectly and your ass flares out unmistakably. Each sway comes with the cruel reminder he can’t touch it. He can’t touch you.

“God, she fucking hates me,” Roy sighs, slumping over in the jump seat. “God, I keep fucking up. I keep acting like a fucking pervert in front of her. It’s not fucking like me. I don’t know what’s going on,” he groans in frustration. “It’s like I’ve got zero fucking game around her and it’s really starting to piss me off. I can pick up any girl, but her? She’s seriously fucking me up, like, in the head and stuff, dude,” Roy cements his statement by jamming his index finger against his skull psychotically.

Jason clicks on the autopilot and gets up to shut the cockpit door, looking around to make sure no one’s overhearing them as he does so. When he sits back down, he removes Roy’s finger, which still remains against his forehead.

“You look and sound like you’re on fucking crack again, Roy.”

“It was heroin, but thanks. Always a class act to joke about addiction,” he mutters.

Jason can barely contain his eye roll. “Is it so hard to just, I don’t know,” Jason opens his arms dramatically like it should be the most obvious thing in the world to him, “be yourself? Don’t you think maybe, at the very least, that being yourself is a bit better than this weird, lame shit you’re pulling now?”

Roy sits there, definitely not pouting, as he takes in his best friend’s words.

Jason knows the real him and still lets him hit, so maybe…

“You’re right,” Roy sighs. He slumps back in his seat, exhaling dramatically enough for Jason to roll his eyes again. “If anyone’s gonna help me understand her, it’s you.” As much as he hates to admit it, Jason’s the only one who can offer him any sort of sage advice right now. “What should I do?” he asks.

Roy’s expectant puppy-dog-look has Jason milliseconds away from clicking the eject button and leaving Roy to figure shit out on his own. While he does eye the button, his hands remain on his knees as he takes in his friend’s desperate demeanor.

“Consider this a mitzvah,” Jason says monotonously, finally deciding to divulge Roy. “I can tell you straight up that if all you want to do is fuck her, you’re going to keep fucking up because she’s not like that.”

Well, Roy definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“All the two of you did is fuck,” Roy points out saltily. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ditched me to go get your dick sucked.”

“Roy,” Jason rubs at the tension steadily forming between his brows, “what did we just talk about?”

Roy puts up his hands in surrender easily. “I swear, it’s not my fault. It’s like my filter’s completely gone,” he complains.

“You’ve never had one to begin with,” Jason states plainly.

“Fine,” Roy gives in, motioning for Jason to continue.

“So, it wasn’t just a one-time thing like I told you. It’s a bit more complicated,” Jason says, leaving Roy’s eyes to bulge. “We’d been talking ever since her split with Kate, but I didn’t want to take advantage of her. She told me she rushed into things with Kate, so she wanted to take things slow.” Jason shrugs. “You know, not like jumping into something right away. Anyway, I understood, so, in the end, I just got to know her.”

Roy shoots a knowing brow but doesn’t take the bait this time. “You seem to be forgetting I’ve also known her for years.”

“Knowing someone and knowing of someone are two different things. You and I both know that, Roy,” Jason points out. “When the time finally came that she was ready, probably like a year later, that’s the day I ditched you.”

“What happened after that?” Roy asks curiously.

“It was a one-time thing in the sense that it was only one day,” Jason says. His attention shifts to the closed cockpit door as if it might somehow magically open. “After that, I never pushed and she never reached out like that again. We both got consumed in missions. When we’d finally get around to catching up, she’d act all shy again with me.”

Jason almost sounds embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He clears his throat, moving to busy himself with the controls, seemingly to signal the conversation was officially over with.

Roy can’t help but think back to how the two of you acted earlier… like you guys were close.

Fuck.

He mentally berates himself for getting in the middle of his friend’s… uh, what exactly are you to Jason? His friend with benefits?

No.

Love interest?

Roy chances a peak at Jason out of the corner of his eyes, but with his Red Hood mask on, it’s impossible to get a read on the stoic man.

This can’t be Jason’s way of telling Roy to back off, right?

“Tell me to back off and I will,” Roy says.

Jason’s helmet remains facing forward. “I could say the same for you.”

Just like that, the topic gets dropped for good and Roy’s no closer to any sort of clarity.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Just like Batman had promised, the mission was get-in, get-out.

The swamps of Louisiana refused to be left behind as its grime sticks around long after the hostile info swap with Swamp Thing.

By the time you’re loading the dirty mutant teens back into the ship, Jason’s already calling dibs on the shower. You make sure everyone’s buckled securely into their seats before heading to the cockpit to let Jason know it’s safe for liftoff.

Your interrogating skills could use some work, Jason signs.

He can’t explicitly see it, but he knows your brow is quirked under your mask. You mean lighting him on fire wasn’t protocol? you sign back.

“The fuck are you two jabbering on about?”

Roy’s voice visibly startles you and your hands still defensively in front of your chest where they’d been signing.

“Just rehashing the mission,” Jason says. He shrugs, moving to flip a few switches on the control panel.

“You mean how she lit that oversized weed bush up like a Christmas tree?”

You snort.

He’s not usually like this. Jason looks at you before tilting his head Roy’s way. He’s trying, though, Jason signs.

You wave him off with a huff, You’re delusional.

If you’d just fucking talk to him, you’re expecting his usual response to your concern, so you’re definitely not expecting what he signs next, you’d see you’re both being delusional.

You flip him off for the second time on the mission before slipping back into your seat in the main cabin so Jason can take off.

“Women.” Is the only explanation Roy gets before the ship shoots off into the boggy, yellow sky.

Once the ship is set to fly on autopilot, Jason makes good on his dibs. His commanding boots stomp down the cabin aisle, shaking the entire aircraft as he does before coming to a halt in front of the bathroom.

“The Justice League requires an immediate debrief to be written once a mission's complete,” Red Hood's robotic voice warbles menacingly. “You have until we’re finished with this report to wash the mud from your acne-covered faces. Take any longer and your ass will be spending the ride back to base with shampoo in your hair.” His gaze shifts across the rows of seats to solidify his point to the scared prepubescent mutants who’ve yet to move. “Might wanna get a move on if you plan to rinse and repeat.”

His helmet snaps your way, gesturing you to join Roy and him up front.

You shouldn’t scare them like that, you berate him. It’s mean.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound it. “Thought I was, at the very least, being gentlemanly considering I just handed you private shower access.”

He doesn’t bother with signing once you’re both back in the cockpit, though you seem more focused on Roy. Even when Jason removes his helmet, you hardly react.

Truth be told, your attention is making Roy extremely nervous.

He’s already been overthinking, well, everything, but it’s worse now.

He keeps second-guessing every movement he makes. Every single word he says feels wrong no matter how long he languishes over the right thing to say.

Case in point:

“Private showers?” Roy wiggles in his seat, similarly to how Lian so often would in her highchair.

“Yeah,” is all Jason says, with a pointed look your way. “You’re welcome. Now let’s fill out this corporate bullshit so I can get Swamp Thing’s things out of my crevices.”

Roy snorts when you shiver distastefully at Jason’s choice of words.

To his surprise, Jason hands you a notepad and you begin furiously scribbling out your responses.

Meanwhile, Jason busies himself with recording Roy’s and his recollections of the mission. By the time they’re done recording, you’ve blown through six pages all filled to the brim with information. For some reason, he thinks it’s completely normal to give you a thumbs up because of this and mentally smacks himself when you respond by slamming the book shut before he can see it.

The debrief goes over smoothly, with Roy only managing to make somewhat of an ass of himself, which he considers a new personal best.

The ‘somewhat’ quickly turns to ‘a complete’ when he decides to say, “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk a lot, you sure have a lot to say.”

Jason makes a hasty ‘abort’ gesture, but it’s too late.

Roy’s fucked up for the fucking gazillionth time with you.

You don’t even react. Instead, you gesture for your phone from the ship’s safe. Jason hands it over easily enough, though he’s obviously not exactly sure where this is going.

Roy swallows heavily, focusing his attention on the setting sun, which casts a golden sheen on the clouds that pass by. He tries to block out your loud typing, but the fingertips of your costume tap thunderously against your screen until it’s all he hears.

He thinks you’ll ignore him the rest of the way back until you’re suddenly flipping the screen around his way.

Jason makes a face at Roy as if to say, ‘I told you she’s into you.’

After chatting back and forth, Roy notices you shifting uncomfortably.

Jason seems to understand immediately. “Roy, show her how to turn on the showers,” Jason insists. Roy gawks at his best friend, not missing the hidden meaning. Roy’s about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re already up and nodding to the back of the plane. “And, for fuck’s sake,” Jason huffs under his breath to Roy, “don’t make me wait too long.”

On the shower, or…?

Roy shakes his head, placing a delicate hand on your back to guide you into the pretty clean ship bathroom, considering how many people had just used it.

Before he loses the courage, Roy strips and turns to give you a full view of his bobbing, pink-tipped cock. He watches you hesitate to remove your mask as if it’d been a secondhand reaction. Ultimately, you do pull it off, shyly biting your lip as he drinks in your godly beauty as if it’s the first time.

You slink out of the rest of your costume at a tantalizingly slow pace as you step closer and closer to Roy.

“Think we should turn on the showers to drown this out?”

You nod with half-lidded eyes as your hands slowly descend down his chest.

The faucet squeaks as Roy fiddles with a good temperature, but you seem completely preoccupied with studying his cock. Your legs obscenely spread into a squat as you come face-to-face with his bobbing erection.

Roy has to restrain himself from smacking you in the face with his dick and forcing it down your fuckable throat for fear of scaring you off.

You seem content to stroke him at a gentle pace, with your firm grip exposing and concealing his tip as his foreskin stretches around each stroke. You draw a dribble of precome and curiously flick at it with the tip of your tongue. Roy suddenly surges forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair to cushion your head as he pushes you completely out of the spray and against the shower wall.

You release a small gasp before you’re back on his cock, this time with more fervor. Your tongue teases along his length, audibly slurping up the mess of spit you’ve left behind as you retreat.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Roy whimpers, hips sputtering against your swollen lips. You quirk a brow at him as you pull off a move that leaves his knees shaky. “You’re so good to me, baby. There’s no way I’m gonna last, fuck.” You’ve started to deep throat him again and it’s all too much.

You’re too pretty and his one-off session with Jason did nothing to increase his rusty stamina. After a minute, he pulls out of your wet, hot mouth and spurts loads of thick come across your face and expectant tongue.

Absolutely sinful.

Once he’s breathing normally, he helps you stand up and begins babbling the moment your hand slips into his.

“I never thanked you for saving me from Enchantress of all villains, by the way,” he says when he finally comes down from the high. He’s not expecting you to respond. He just wants to get it off his chest.

You short-circuit, staring at him with an owlish gaze that leaves him mesmerized.

Roy thinks he’ll never get used to looking into your eyes. The stunning mix of colors so unique to you, private to only him and, well, the rest of the redheads in the tower, but it’s something Roy can deal with if it means he gets to hold you close again.

Your mouth quivers and he thinks he’s said something wrong until you speak.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met,” you say. Roy’s mouth goes dry as a blush steadily creeps across your plump cheeks. He watches as you subconsciously tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I thought you hated me, though,” you admit. Suddenly, your eyes flick down to where his dick is still twitching in the aftermath and add, “Okay, well. Yeah, I just sucked you off, but still.”

Your voice is sweet, soft and understated; everything Roy never knew he needed and more.

“Cap,” Roy says, leaving your head to tilt comically in confusion. The redhead bursts into laughter at the action. “I mean, you’re lying, babe.”

He hears a quiet gasp from you before you dramatically shake your head no, then seem to remember you’ve already revealed your voice and speak, “You intimidated me.”

Roy laughs again, “Me? Intimidate you? Oh, damn. Babe, please, you’re like the definition of intimidating. I kept thinking I was fucking up and that you’d gotten the wrong impression of me.” When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head like he finally understands what’s been going on. “I definitely should’a had Jason hook us up earlier.” He pulls you back under the spray, murmuring with your face between his hands, “I’ve wanted you for so long, beautiful. You have no idea.”

“I,” your ethereal voice cracks slightly from underuse. You clear your throat, “I always mistook your staring as you not liking me. Well, until the other night, then it finally clicked.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing you speak.

“You mean when I got a hard-on at the sight of you alone?”

He watches you swallow with greedy eyes.

“Yes.”

He groans at your answer, feeling his restraint slipping again with each passing moment under your spell. “You gonna keep talking to me when we fuck, or are we gonna need some hand signals?”

You bite at your lower lip, causing Roy’s dick to twitch back to life in response. “I could talk to you forever, Roy,” you respond honestly.

His hips buck helplessly into the small amount of air that lies between the two of you.

“Say my name again.”

It’s a command you give in to easily; over and over.

His gruff, gravelly voice is nothing like you’d ever heard on a mission before and it’s driving you crazy. Your clit twitches on command as his hands tighten into fists. It’s as if to hold himself back from taking you right here and now.

“Roy,” you tease, closing the remaining distance. Your chest squishes against his armor, eyes flicking up at him through your long lashes as if you don’t already have him completely wrapped around your finger. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You…” he trails off in a daze, searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, “You need me to?”

In response, your eyes slide into slits and he still finds none. Your fingers trickle over his freckled shoulders, twirling around them tantalizingly slow like a promise that this is real.

“I can’t come on my fingers just by thinking about you anymore,” you breathe, shaking your head lightly. He watches as you bite at your lip again. You’re so fucking sexy, holy shit. “Not since I saw you that one night,” you admit. Roy’s dick twitches eagerly in anticipation of what’s to come. “It’s not enough anymore. I need you, I need the real thing, Roy,” you’re practically moaning as you breathe his name against his lips. “Please, don’t make me keep begging.”

“Oh?” Roy’s fiery eyebrow quirks upward as a dominating confidence settles over him. “I think that’s exactly what you’re going to keep doing, baby.” Another twitch as you gasp from his words alone. “I want you to beg me until you’re about to come,” your mouth parts as lust overcomes you, visibly filling your eyes, “then I want you to beg me to stick my cock back in your wet cunt because you’re such a needy slut for me, aren’t you?” You unwittingly nod, completely enraptured by his raw sexual energy. “I want you to rut against it like the fucking whore I know you are until I finally give in and fuck you. Then and only then, are you allowed to come. Got it, princess?”

Your eyes are wide, feeling slick already leaking out onto your inner thighs. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh,” he groans, allowing his hands to trickle down from the small of your waist to the dip right above your infamous ass, “you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Don’t you, baby?” Your fingers unclasp his remaining gear, stepping back slightly as it falls to the floor before closing the distance again. He feels your heart ramming up against your ribcage as you press into his now bare chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks. Roy watches as your wide eyes flicker between his, searching their verdant depths helplessly and chuckles darkly, “You don’t have to say anything, princess. I got you. I’ll take real good care of you, I promise.”

You seem shocked that he understood your nonverbal cue and, to be honest, so is Roy.

His dick is aching, practically humping your thick thigh with every movement of your swollen lips keeps causing it to bob up and down. Before he can stick it in, however, there’s a wiggle and twist on the bathroom doorknob.

You both panic, looking at each other with wide eyes, when you realize that neither of you had bothered to lock the door.

Roy scrambles to hide you, fully erect cock facing the intruder, only to sag in relief when he sees that it’s just Jason.

“It’s just me,” Jason says. The raven holds his hands up in faux-surrender. He hardly seems startled by your and Roy’s naked state. If anything, he looks pleased? “Was kind of hoping Roy’s shitty stamina would mean you’d be finished by now, but I refuse to sit in my sweat any longer,” he says nonchalantly, however his eyes flick to your bare face with the hints of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up,” you say with no malice behind it. You find yourself blushing and duck in the safety of the junction of Roy’s freckle-spattered neck for solace.

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up briefly at your verbal response before he schools his surprise. “Well, don’t let me interrupt.”

Jason then begins the motions of sudsing up his body, brow quirking when he feels the continued weight of your eyes on his movements. Roy would be pissed if he weren’t busy staring, too.

Roy’s jaw nearly drops when you place your hands against the shower wall, partially under Jason’s spray, partially under the one that's already on next to it.

You arch into the wall, wiggling your hips teasingly for Roy to come closer.

Jason’s eyes flicker down out of the corner of his eyes, watching as Roy watches him. Whether for support or permission, Jason doesn’t know, but he holds Roy's gaze, nonetheless.

Roy’s cock bobs enthusiastically in response, wondering if this was all some fucked-up sex dream he was going to wake up from. Roy places gentle yet firm hands on your hips as he draws you backward against his erection. He paces himself, rubbing his tip against your slick entrance as his hands grope your ass in awe.

Jason's hard, spending a little too much time pumping his cock to spread his body wash for Roy not to notice. The way your head is pressed against the tiles keeps your face out of the spray but also means that you can see both Roy and Jason.

You huff, arching your back even further

“Talk to me, baby,” Roy practically purrs, grabbing a handful of your ass as his cock continues to rub against your slick folds. It’s enough friction to leave your legs shaking with want.

Your half-lidded eyes sear into Roy’s lower abdomen like a siren’s call and, boy, is Roy ready to go overboard.

“Please, Roy,” you moan as you press your ass against his hard cock. You wriggle backward, hoping to gain more traction, but he continues to taunt you with the promise of his heavy heat. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You need me to wreck that pretty little cunt of yours, baby?”

You nod, biting at the corner of your lip. Jason curses somewhere beside the two of you and it’s all the encouragement Roy needs to put on a show.

He drags his hands up your wet, lithe body as you perch so beautifully for him to take. He fondles your tits as he covers more and more your body with his own until his mouth is directly next to your left ear. On your right, Jason watches, emerald eyes lit with barely retrained want.

Roy smirks at his friend before turning his attention back to you. His deep voice rumbles lowly against the shell of your ear, “Beg.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to the other side to capture his lips with yours. “I need you to fill me up, I’m so wet for you, Roy.” To prove it, you press backward into his erection- as if Roy wasn’t already restraining himself from fucking your cunt full of his come. “My pussy’s aching for you, please,” your sinful voice begs.

Jason’s remained entirely quiet up until this point. “Finger her,” he commands.

Roy barely holds himself back from shivering under Jason’s commanding tone, leaving him no choice but to obey. He teases you, tickling along your labia before briefly teasing your leaking entrance. Your mouth opens and produces a porn-worthy moan, only to remain open and empty when Roy finally reaches your clit.

Jason bites his lip, looking between you and Roy for permission to oblige to your body’s reaction. Roy looks down at you, but your tongue has already lulled out to accept Jason’s girthy cock.

Roy shifts the position so you’re all in between the two shower sprays. You’re bent over, in between the two muscular men, with your face eye-level with Jason’s bobbing cock. Meanwhile, Roy’s soft hands hold your hips steady as he lines himself back up with your entrance.

Once you’re all settled, you waste no time in surging forward to swallow around Jason’s impressive length. Spit trails down the sides of your mouth as you force him deeper down your throat.

Your muffled moans and sighs are all the encouragement Roy needs.

He whines pathetically when the tip of his cock finally breeches your tight entrance, waiting briefly as you become accustomed to his girth.

Your voice is godly, so it’s no wonder that the little pleased noises you make are heavenly. Your breathy moans echo across the small room as Roy finally takes what he’s always wanted.

The wet heat of your cunt draws the most pathetic noises out of Roy as he slowly fucks his tip into you with a fluid motion of his freckled hips. Each shallow thrust leaves you aching and pressing back into him to beg for more.

“So good for us, aren’t you, baby?” Roy bites his lip impishly as he meets Jason’s half-lucid gaze head-on. Roy’s tip catches deliciously against your twitching cunt, forcing out a wanton moan that vibrates up to the very base of Jason’s cock.

Without warning, Jason groans as he releases your hair.

Roy looks questioningly at him before he’s pulled forward by his fiery hair to meet Jason’s eager lips. Roy can tell when you’ve begun sucking again because Jason’s lips become sloppier and more aggressive as they mesh against Roy’s chapped ones. When they break apart for air, Jason’s hand remains firm in Roy’s long, fiery locks. He pants, leaning his forehead against Roy’s while you eagerly work your body in between them.

Jason takes it upon himself to punish your ass cheeks while Roy uses his free hand to tangle in your tresses and tug. All the while, the men remain connected by their violent clashing of spit and teeth above your pliant arch. You feel your inhibitions deliciously slipping with every passing moment.

For once, you’re not being quiet.

If anything, it seems like Jason knew the only way to shut up your sultry whines was with his cock. The thought alone nearly sends Roy over the edge again.

He breaks away from his raven-haired best friend to grab desperately for your swinging tits. His gentle hands squeeze and jiggle them with his thrusts slowing.

“Don’t wanna come again, baby,” he whimpers, flicking your nipples so that you unleash an equally pathetic noise.

Jason smirks. “Fuck that.”

You get no further warning before Jason’s calloused hand comes down on your ass cheek. His thick cock catches the majority of your pleasured scream, though not completely. Roy rubs the spot, completely hypnotized at the red shape forming across your skin, then quickly pulls away and motions for Jason to repeat the erotic action.

With each hit, your moan reverberates around his cock deliciously.

A particularly hard smack forces Jason deeper into your pliant throat until he’s forced to grab a fistful of your hair to control the pace.

You feel entirely filled. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the realization as you allow your biggest crushes to use your body in the best way.

“Yeah,” Jason says darkly. At the same time, he grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks in the process as he ruthlessly fucks against your swollen lips. His voice is a dark timbre that shakes every particle of your being. “Take that shit, you fucking slut,” Jason hisses. He wraps his hand around your hair again as he reaches forward to smack your ass.

Your hips stutter as you whimper against the dominant pace of Jason’s hips against your mouth. “Fuck,” you whimper.

His eyes contain an emerald ire, as if he’s just barely restraining himself from pushing Roy aside and fucking you like he knows you like. You can’t help but stutter forward, body spasming in Roy’s secure grasp as your orgasm releases a euphoric, chilling heat all across your body.

Jason removes his dick, moving to support your weight with Roy as they savor every wrecked moan that crackles from your abused throat.

They only allow you to recover for so long before Jason smacks his veiny cock against the side of your mouth for you to open again. “Just like that,” he rumbles your name out lowly. “Good girl.” He nods at Roy who follows his lead and smacks your ass, reveling in how your abused cheeks jiggle salaciously in response.

Jason drags his cock in and out of your swollen, spit-covered lips a few more times before he maneuvers himself into a crouch.

“What are you-" you start, but his gentle fluttering against your clit cuts you off immediately.

His rough hand instantly stifles your wrecked moan. “I know you can come again,” Jason says, drawing another pathetic weep from you. “That’s right, you’re gonna show Roy what a slut you are, aren’t you?” Your thighs unwittingly snap shut around Jason’s skillful fingers, only to instantly be forced back open with a dark smirk. “There we go.”

His dark green eyes capture yours as he slurps at his slick-covered fingers before shoving them down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He chuckles darkly, looking between his two-fucked out partners with a sadistic glee only Jason could harbor. He shoves his calloused fingers further down your throat, earning a low moan that vibrates straight down to his cock. You wriggle impatiently and he gets the message. Jason’s free hand snakes teasingly down your panting torso to tickle your pulsating clit while his other hand fucks into your obedient throat.

With his expert fingers, it’s no surprise that you come again.

Your wobbly knees nearly give out to crumble down onto Roy’s dirty, discarded uniform on the floor below you. Luckily, he catches you before you can come back into contact with the disgusting swamp muck.

Roy forces his dick back inside your overly-sensitive cunt without missing a beat.

“Roy!” you exclaim as the overwhelming yet welcomed stretch starts up again. Your thighs have yet to stop shaking, but if anything, it only makes Roy fuck into you with reckless, primal abandon.

His freckled hips snap in and out of your doubled-over body at a toe-curling pace while Jay pumps his cock at the desperate display.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after your second orgasm.

The lewd sound of his dick squelching in and out of your slick-filled pussy, coupled with the clenching of your fluttering heat does him in.

What Roy doesn’t expect is for Jason to watch him come so carnally.

“You good?” Jason’s voice rumbles lowly like a predator closing in on his prey. It draws another spurt of come from his sore dick with a pained groan.

“Fuck, Jay,” he pants as he looks between you and his friend.

Roy tiredly crumbles to the dirty uniforms below with you still in his arms. You willingly follow, too exhausted to remain standing.

“Don’t think I’d mind seeing the two of you like this again,” Jason says. He stands from his crouch, staring down at the two of you with a domineering demeanor. “Shit. Yes,” he groans when you and Roy move toward his thick cock in transfixed unison. “So fucking good.”

You and Roy share Jason nicely, taking turns licking lewdly up and down his veiny length. It takes a moment to find a rhythm, but once you do, you’re eagerly sucking and exchanging heavy-lidded glances with the redhead beside you.

Roy takes over, flicking and moving his tongue obscenely for your pleasure. When he pulls off, he spits onto Jason’s dick, causing it to bob up and down in arousal. You waste no time in slurping it up, using it as lube to work Jason’s cock deeper down your throat. This, however, only lasts so long before Roy’s grabbing the back of your head to pull you in for a messy, toe-curling kiss.

He stares down at Roy’s noisy slurps, then at your teasing flicks with barely concealed dark want hiding behind his slitted emerald eyes.

He’s rough with both of you, taking a fistful of each of your hair to intermittently draw each of you down onto his cock, one after the other. If no one had heard you getting the best orgasms of your life earlier, they were now definitely hearing Jason’s gasps and curses clear as day.

You feel Roy’s eyes on you the entire time. Normally you’d be anxious with his undivided attention, but right now, it only spurs you to suck in Jason’s length deeper. You moan around his cock, feeling tears trickle out onto your cheeks as you finally manage to reach his hairy base.

Roy’s hands flit across your body, finally landing on your tits as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck. You instinctively lean into the touch, eyes rolling to the back of your head, when Jason slowly begins to rock in and out of your throat.

They’re both unable to tear their eyes away from the show you’re putting on, but it does stop Roy’s breathy question, “You like having both of us sucking your dick, Jay?”

“Shut up, Harper,” Jason groans as he halfheartedly glares down at the redhead.

All at once, your deep-throating ceases as Jason replaces your mouth with Roy’s.

You watch as Roy gets a far more aggressive treatment as if they’ve done this before. Jason’s brows furrow together as his long fingers regain their grip on Roy’s fiery tresses before snapping far down into his throat at a brutal pace.

You gasp at the sight and are even more surprised they both falter to look at you.

“I-" What do you even say? ‘This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen and I want both of you in me at the same time’?

“Well,” Roy smirks wolfishly after he pulls off of Jason’s red-tipped cock with a lewd ‘pop,' “I’m down.” Jason’s biting down painfully on his lower lip, cock gripped strongly in his fist as he wills himself not to come from your words alone. Seeing this, Roy, of course, doesn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Would you want that, Jay? You want to feel that wet, tight cunt again while your dick rubs against mine?”

You’ve never seen someone come so fast.

Jason’s lips part slightly as he pumps his hot come all across your and Roy’s fucked-out, sweat-glistened bodies. His moan is breathy, slightly broken as the last of his orgasm spurts out across the two of your expectant tongues.

“Fuck,” Jason curses. He stares down at both of your slumped, sticky bodies like he’s trying to figure out if this is actually real.

By the time you’re all done making up for all the lost time, your fingers have pruned and your legs are too wobbly to hold your body. Needless to say, the quick trek back to the cockpit is the worst walk of shame any of you have ever experienced.

A/N: this was a total self indulgent fic- i hope you enjoyed and lmk if you did! I've been in a huge creative rut recently :\

[end] || ao3 || pinned || ways to support

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic: redheaded conundrum

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purelyfiction · 1 year ago

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miami vice || rhett abbott

Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,015 words

Summary: tailgates and trucker hats and drinky decisions. that's all.

Content Warning: HEY!! THIS HAS SMUT!! So if you’re under 18 pleaseeee go away. (brother's best friend, f fingering, choking, oral f receiving, missionary, safe sex, CNC because drunk, strangers to lovers, possession kink if you squint?)

Author Note: hey bitches i'm not dead - jk ily all sorry. if you can't tell i'm self indulgent and needed to put this horny energy somewhere other than my head. enjoy.

"HEADS UP!" You barely register the sound before a sand filled bag clocks you right across the top of your eye, making you curse and drop your beer, hand flying up to your eye. The voice has traveled from the other side of the tent to land in front of you, a large hand taking your shoulder. "shit, i'm so sorry 'bout that."

Finally blinking away the pain in your eyelid, you can open both of your eyes to reveal the jackass who'd struck you - a jackass in a black sleeveless tank with a backward trucker hat. Your chin drops as you look him in very blue eyes, which are flooded with clouded concern. "You good? C'mere," his hand moves from your shoulder to behind your back as he moves to your side, carefully tucking under the tailgate tent. The male moves to one of what had to be a dozen blue coolers tucked under folding tables, pulling it open and carefully pushing the cold can to the affected eye. You've not said a damn word as he carefully settles the drink to your forehead, eyes still trained on him. "Real sorry, again I- my buddy's got shit aim."

"It's fine, I'll just go back to my place looking like I got jumped. " Your quick retort has him chuckling as he guides your hand to take the can and hold it. After he's sure you won't drop it, he's grabbing another two cans, large hands able to handle them with ease, extending one to you as he polishes off the other he'd carried over with him.

"You can actually drink that one." This time, its you laughing at you watch him crush the now empty can and toss it in a nearby hanging trash bag, clicking the tab to open it, foam coming to the top. Instinctually, you're dropping down to catch it with your lips before it can overflow onto his hand, the aluminum still in his grip. Withdrawing, you carefully navigate it from his hands.

"Thanks. You always treat the victims your sloppy shooter assaults?"

"Nah, only if they're stupidly hot." The forwardness leaves your eyebrows to pop up, the pain dully reminding you how you got here in the first place. The nameless cornhole vigilante reaches up to the tent frame, gripping to the accordion metal and leaning in. "I don't think I recognize you? Are you bummin' booze off these guys?"

"First you hit me with a sandbag and then have the nerve to question if I'm crashing a tailgate that isn't mine?" No Name points to your with an index finger while the remaining fingers keep curled around his Miller Lite.

"Good point. Name's Rhett." Nodding in response, you're carefully moving back to the cooler to toss a somewhat warm can back to the cooler, and return to your spot. Sorta. The brunette somehow seems closer - at least his face seems that way. You introduce yourself in response, and he laughs. "Dane's sister?"

"That's the one. This is all him. The RV, the parking pass - the booze I'm 'bumming' from him." Another sip of his beer blocks the view of his devilish grin. It almost matches the flames of the shirt he's wearing. "Where's the accent from? Definitely doesn't sound like it's from here."

He would proceed to explain that he's originally from Wyoming, and had come down to compete in the National Rodeo Circuit finalist events. That made him a cowboy cornhole viglinate. Rhett had insane stories from his events - like how he fucked up his shoulder on one of his best runs and rode again the very next day. When he ran out of stories - two beers later - he was happy to attempt to get revenge on his former cornhole partner for smacking you across the face.

"You're absolutely ass at this!" He laughs, watching the bag splat against the concrete. Bouncing along to a nearby speaker you turn to him when the other two start collecting bags.

"I gotta admit - I've never played."

"You-" His face fills with surprise and disdain, shaking his head, "How have you never- damn it, we're teaching you."

On the next turn, Rhett keeps the bags to himself, and feeds one into your hand. Before you can throw it however, his larger hand comes under yours, fingers skating along your forearm before getting comfortable under your grip. His chest is flush against your back, his scruff brushing against your ear as he leans in. Thick drawl gives you instructions about the power you want to put behind the throw, moving your arm along with it. Guiding your toss, the orange bag goes flying through the air, lands on the board and slides right into the hole. "Atta girl."

You end up losing the game, mainly because Rhett's cheating by continuing to tug you backward by the belt loop every time you take a shot to the board. Each time you looked over at him with a scowl, he would sip at his drink, mumbling 'don't look at me'.

The closer and closer to game time that you got, the thinner and thinner the tailgate group got. Dane had started cleaning up, his friends helping him put things inside the RV and his friend's pickups. Rhett still clings to you like tipsy velcro, his hand stuck in your back pocket as you try to help pack things away.

"Here, I'll dump out the cooler."

"Rhett there's still-"

"Oh there's still beer in here. Would be a shame to let it go to waste." Tossing one to you - which you somehow catch - he's snagging Dane's keys from a nearby table, pushing the first key blade he can find into the bottom of the can, duplicating the hole in your can that he's guided to the horizontal position. Dropping the keys to his feet, he looks at you. "Do I gotta teach this shit to you too?"

"You gonna cheat at this too?"

"Who said this was a race?" He asks.

"This is always a race. Three, two-" Both tabs crack open as you push the cans to your mouths, shotgunning commencing without a final count. As you tilt the can properly, you realize that Rhett has already finished his can, dropping it to the pavement. How the fuck- you obviously can't ask as you continue to chug, your throat working as you keep downing the liquid. Rhett's hand, coated in beer, carefully tucks under your chin, pushing your head further back, back and back.

"You can take it." If you weren't so determined to show him up - you would've sputtered foamy wheat water everywhere. You nearly choke thanks to the new pace, but make a smooth recovery. Dropping the can, you gasp for air, throwing your head back as you let the beverage settle in your stomach. Looking at Rhett, he's got a stupidly large grin on his face, upper lip covered in beer foam. You're about to say something when Dane comes out of the RV, calling your name.

"You don't have tickets right?" Nodding, the cowboy looks at Dane and then at you.

"You're not going?"

"Unless you're tucking me into your purse, Rhett - no." Dane slaps the taller male's shoulder before reaching down for the keys on the ground and pushing them into your hand.

"These are yours 'til we get back," Turning to Rhett, he nods toward the stadium. "Ready to start walking?" The mid-west male starts patting at his jeans, all the way down to his boots. Popping up to his full height, he grips your brother's shoulder much like he had yours earlier.

"I can't find my phone or my wallet. Let me go check the RV - I'll just meet you at the seats." Dane nods, and moves to the rest of the group, starting the trek to the metal building. When they're out of earshot, Rhett's hand tucks back into your pocket again. "You wanna give me the tour?"

In the most hasty fashion, you clamber into your brother's RV, showing off the kitchenette/living area, before leading him to the bunk areas, where you'd be sleeping tonight. Rhett's hand hasn't left your pocket at this point. As you show off the tiny space, he laughs. "What's so funny?"

"It's cute y'think both of us are gonna fit in there." Like a tipsy cocker spaniel, your head tilts at him. Fingers move to grip your ass through your jeans, before he spots the pocket door to the owner's bedroom of the mobile home. He's easily pushing the door open, a larger queen sized bed waiting on the other side of the door. "That's more like it." Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own.

Rhett is efficient in pulling the jersey you were roasting in off your shoulders. The cowboy is about to let it hit the floor when you pull back. “Be smart about this.” You warn. Before you can blink, he’s thrown it to a side table and you back onto the bed.

“Or. You be smart and leave the commands to me.” A hand slides up from your lower back, up along your spine, soft finger tips electrifying the skin under them as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips busy themselves along your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses are soft and smooth compared to the sharp and coarseness of his stubble. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra- unlike the jersey- is discarded to the floor, leaving you in jeans that hugged you well, and sweat slick bare skin.

He carefully cups your breast, gripping onto it, a thumb rolling over the peak as your head cranes back. His kisses are getting shorter and closer and closer to your chest, until the warm and wet feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue forming many shapes in the process. Your hands are eager to tug the backwards hat off his head, fingers carding through his hair, tugging with teeth teasingly scraping your skin a moan lifts from you. “Oh did my girl like that?” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

As he keeps mouthing at your tits, his hands busy themselves with your belt and button of your pants. It’s damn near expert execution, jeans swiftly thudding to the floor, no awkward entanglement to be found. His maneuvers leave you with only your panties left to hide yourself from him, but even then, a curious index finger runs along your pussy lips through the skimpy material. Slowly, he pulls the elastic free from your skin, running along it in a pacing line, smirking up at you as he moves to the edge of the bed. "This is such a treat, cause I know that stadium doesn't serve tacos." Adjusting to sit on your forearms, you stare him down as his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. "Did you just call my pussy a taco?"

An idiotic and drunken smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. "Depends. Am I gonna starve, or are you gonna let me eat it?"

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. "Let me just set my plate here- that's just perfect." It takes mere seconds for his tongue to slide between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. He doesn't continue in his stripe patterns but in zig-zags, waves - patterns that tease you and just barely hit your clit. Rhett keeps this behaviour up until you're grinding up against him, his hands grabbing your hips. The hold is tight, and sharp blue eyes glare up at you, darkening as you whine.

"You're gonna stay right where I put ya. Y'hear?"

"But-" He snaps up back onto his feet, hovering over you again, his finger tips gliding along your skin and delicately wrapping around your throat.

"Wanna try that again?" It's punctuated with the slightest squeeze, the revelation that he was truly in control. You shake your head, and he smirks, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. "Good girl. You just sit there and look all pretty while I take care'a you." His hand at your lower half begin to pump in and out, his other hand still decorating your body in the form of a necklace. "You are just the damndest thing I ever did see, know that baby?"

Rhett's thumb comes from the side of your neck, tracing along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. "Open up, my girl." You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck intently - the digit stifling the moan that vibrates through you as he gets another finger into you. "God you are so fuckin' beautiful." It's muttered as his hand picks up a pace, your body relaxing and holding onto him tightly in two separate places. The faster his hand rocks into you, the more distracted your tongue becomes, he can tell. Which is why his hand pulls back, using the slick from your lips to begin rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. His lips trap yours momentarily, his tongue running along your teeth as his hands blindly work against you.

"Fuck, you are so wet for me, aren't you?" Rhett pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Aren't you?"

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes, god, I'm so wet, so wet for you, Rhett."

His hands retreat, moments from letting you finish with just his fingers. The male is rapidly undoing his belt buckle, slithering a hand into his back pocket, fishing out a condom from it. He sticks it between his teeth as he barely manages to get his hard on free from his boxers.

Part of you wants to ask him to let you put it on, let you admire the length that has sprung free from his jeans, but you know he's working against a running clock. Someone is going to notice he's taking too long. He didn't want to run that risk it seems.

The wrapper disappears somewhere. You're sure it remains somewhere in the RV floorboards, but as he's entering you, there's no fucking way you care where the evidence went.

Rhett presses into you, inch by inch, his lips playing with a spot on your neck. He stretches you so well, a hiss coming from you that times well with how he sucks a bite mark onto your skin. "My girl's so tight for me. Fuckin' so goddamn tight." His voice is low, gruff and right in your ear.

The smell of his body wash hovers over you, mixing with the newly formed scent of sex in the air as he pulls back, only to move forward again. "Sweetheart, you want me to move?"

"Yes, yes I want you to move-"

"Ask me nicely, baby." He freezes above you, staring you down, piercing blue eyes drinking you in like this. Sweat slick from the stale air of an RV and the Miami heat, tucked under him, captive.

"Please move, baby. Please, I just wanna come." The expression he makes strokes your ego in ways it likely shouldn't.

"Oh you're gonna come, I'll promise you that- you're gonna come." His hips begin rutting into you as he stands up a little further, hands coming up under your knees. Propping your legs up slightly, not fully extended but providing an angle to get even deeper into you, a sound escapes you, pinpointing exactly when he does. As his thrusts move quicker and quicker, your legs seem to slip from his hands, leaving him to reach up on the bed, snagging the nearest pillow.

"Hips up, sweetheart." A pant leaves him as he aids you to pop up, sliding the cushion under you. Upon the next thrust, and each one after, Rhett continues to hit the exact same spot, earning himself a rhythm of moans that time with his hips. "Oh honey, if they didn't know, they sure do now."

His hand drops between where the two of you meet, his thumb returning to do paces, sending you careening off the edge and into a blazing white haze, your body shuddering from the sensation.

Your cowboy continues his pace, no faster, no slower - continuing to ride out until you're nodding, encouraging him along. His pace picks up, his lips snagging onto yours as the sound of a cell phone comes from the floor. It only serves as encouragement for him, until he's finishing, his upper body hovering over yours as sloppy kisses and whimpers from him fill the soundscape.

His phone stops ringing, and when he pulls out, you remain trapped under him. Rhett gives you one more slow kiss before he moves to pull off the condom, cleaning himself up. "I think that big brother of yours is lookin' for me." He charms, pulling his pants back up, zipping himself up.

"Seems like it does." You offer, squirming on the bed, not ready to get up yet. Rhett pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding and confirming that's who'd called.

This time, your phone starts going off.

Simultaneously, his does too.

Then there's a pounding coming from the RV door.

#rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott x reader smut #rhett abbott outerrange #outer range #lewis pullman #lewis pullman characters

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blouisparadise · 10 months ago

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There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!

1) Strawberry Cake | Teen & Up | 1,789 words

When Louis gets stuck in a bad situation at a bar, Harry steps in to help.

2) Intoxicated | Mature | 2,156 words

“Could, I-uh- get a drink, perhaps?” The stranger asks. Louis snaps back. Quickly closing his mouth and attempting to respond to the deep and surprisingly demanding voice. “Oh, I’m sorry but we are closed for the day” Louis responds. In all honesty he could have made the man a drink, but the lack of supplies Louis had thus far prevented him from offering anything but a half drunk bottle of beer. “But the door was open.” The person retrots. Inviting himself further into the establishment and seating himself down on one of the tables. Louis knits his eyebrows together out of confusion. He also stops admiring the man and feels annoyance building up instead. “Yes, the door was open, but my bar is still closed.” Louis replies. Annunciating the fact that he was in charge so his words could be taken more seriously by this customer that was turning from charming to sour.

3) I’ll Love You When The Oceans Dry, I’ll Love You When The Rivers Freeze | Explicit | 2,515 words

Harry and Louis are on vacation with their friends. Louis gets very drunk so Harry takes him back to his hotel room. He sees text exchanges about Louis liking some guy and he gets jealous so snoops more and realizes it is him. In the morning, Louis realizes that Harry snoops and secrets are revealed.

4) Powerless (And I Don't Care) | Explicit | 4,061 words

Everyone on tour calls each other daddy, don’t ask why. And Louis is so used to calling everyone “daddy” that, when he finally comes home, naturally he calls Harry that.

5) Now You Hang From My Lips | Explicit | 6,292 words

Louis gives him an appraising look—starting at the soles of his expensive shoes and ending at the top of his head. “Just a drink,” he answers, because he loves this part—the chase. He loves having someone hanging on his every word and if there’s one thing for sure he’ll make somebody work for it. If H isn’t down for that, if he gives up too easily then it wasn’t meant to be anyways. Because that’s the other half of it, Louis also wants someone who will put him in his place. “Well in that case, I’ve got room with a minibar. Why don’t you come upstairs with me and you can have whatever you want.” Bingo.

6) Mother In Law | Mature | 8,070 words

Harry has been watching Louis from afar for about a month, but he refuses to call himself a stalker. He just admires him, not following him like a creep. Until one day, Louis approaches him. They have sex. Harry finds out that Louis is rich and he feels insecure. He decides that he needs to let Louis go. The problem is Louis falls deeper.

7) Behind Smoke Stained Curtains | Explicit | 19,054 words

It was a particularly lonely night when Harry walked through his door with a flurry of snow. He was a little rough around the edges with a trucker hat pushed down over untamed long hair. He looked a little greasy, a shower definitely not in his recent past. His tan Carhartt work coat was smudged with dirt and oil and caked with grime, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The scent was overwhelming as soon as he walked in, unmasked alpha from days on the road stewing in a cab of his own pheromones. Louis was sure it was so deep into the fabric of his coat that no amount of washing would ever truly remove the stench. The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

8) Sunshine (You Temptress) | Explicit | 26,870 words

All it took was one idiotic dare, one boy, one night. He’s twenty eight years old, six months fresh out of possibly the worst break up you could ever imagine, and his Friday nights are spent fucking a nineteen year old stranger. He’s still not completely sure how it happened.

10) The Road Not Taken | Explicit | 35,285 words

Louis’ not paying attention as his phone unlocks, and he’s shocked when the thread opens and there’s only one message there from an unknown contact. I’m home. For a minute he assumes it’s got to be a wrong number, and before he can decide whether to just ignore it or send a response the three dots show up and then a second message. It’s Harry by the way. And finally a third right after that. Are you busy tonight?

11) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”

12) Paradise Is Getting Closer | Mature | 52,685 words

Louis hated his life, which consisted only of death and destruction. Despite the lives he had saved and continued to save, a part of him couldn't feel satisfied. He had been the one who gave up a normal life and although he knew what was to come, the loneliness had never left him in all these years, not even for a second. He felt it in his heart every time he approached a target, he felt it in the few minutes before falling asleep in his dingy car or while he allowed himself a few hours of sleep before setting off again, and he felt it every time he closed that door behind him.

13) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 58,638 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis. “All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.” “As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

14) Men Are Shit | Explicit | 77,728 words

Welcome to Louisland. Here you'll find fluffy socks, chaos and always enough alcohol to toast the fact that all men are shit.

15) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words

Note: Please remember to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #blp #fic recs #larry

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riotwritesthings · 1 year ago

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Who Guards the Bodyguard

T, 3k - No-Powers AU, Humor, bodyguard!Bucky

One college bar, one bodyguard, one sleazeball who can't take no for an answer. Shaken, not stirred.

Hey remember when I took birthday prompts, like… 9 months ago? Good times. Anyways guess what I finally finished.

The prompt was some combination of “You’re my new bodyguard and you’re cute” / “Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second” / “I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having” So I really just mashed all of those together and ended up with this lol. I hope you enjoy it @clarajanedesperaux!

This job is supposed to be easy.

All Bucky has to do is keep an eye on a billionaire’s spoiled, wild son and make sure the kid doesn’t end up kidnapped or otherwise killed. Easy.

And yet, it has not been easy, most notably because Tony Stark can’t know that Bucky is guarding him. Howard had been very insistent about his son’s ability and determination to ditch his previous bodyguards, and half of the stories were honestly impressive if true. So Bucky has a very strict set of guidelines to follow that most days make him feel more like a stalker than anything else.

He gets a ping whenever Tony leaves the Stark family’s Fifth Avenue mansion, and satellite tracking makes it quick work to follow him anywhere in the city. Bucky’s not exactly sure how Stark has GPS-tagged his son, but he’s not paid to ask questions.

He’s paid to put his experience in black ops and undercover work to good use and not be seen while he’s following a twenty-year-old around the city making sure no one kills the kid.

Totally normal, super easy.

Yeah right, Bucky thinks to himself in bemusement as he watches Tony over the rim of his beer.

This is the third bar the Stark heir has been to tonight, and Bucky really must be getting old because all he wants is to go home.

He’d kind of like to tell Tony to go home too, and not just because it would mean Bucky could go back to his apartment to hang out with his cat. It’s because he knows what Tony is doing, he knows the rotating cast of friends that meet Tony at one bar just to abandon him at another. He knows how damn lonely that is.

He might be watching from a distance, but Bucky is pretty damn good at what he does and he can tell there’s a lot more to Tony than the kid lets on. He’s got a bigger heart than he likes to show and hidden scars, he deserves better than fake friends and a father who won’t even give him a chance.

But that’s none of Bucky’s business.

Two more bars later, Bucky is feeling a lot less generous towards his charge. This place is too damn crowded, and loud, and Bucky has to keep moving around to keep Tony in his sight. And for what, just to watch him half-heartedly flirt with some asshole in a trucker hat, of all things? The kid could at least have the decency to have some taste.

Bucky forces down some more unsavory thoughts about trucker-hat-douche as he slides onto another seat at the bar and waves for a refill on his beer. He pointedly ignores it when the guy on the next stool spins to face him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Tony near the pool table across the bar. Even if he wasn’t working right now, he is in no mood and he does his best to convey that with the side of his face.

The asshole doesn’t take the hint though, and Bucky can feel the weight of his sleazy smirk as he asks, “Well hello, you come here often?”

“Nope,” Bucky says shortly, which is conveniently both true, and will hopefully cut off any further conversation.

"That makes sense,” the man says with a nod and a widening smirk, continuing to ignore all of Bucky’s not-so-subtle hints, “I would remember seeing you before.”

He probably thinks it sounds flattering, but he just comes across as gross. Bucky takes his eyes off his charge just long enough to glance over at the man next to him, taking in his flushed, sweaty face. The asshole is definitely drunk, probably completely hammered, and Bucky doesn’t want to deal with this.

He fixes his eyes forward again, hoping the guy will at least take one of his hints if he just keeps throwing them in the asshole’s face.

“C’mon, I’ve seen you moving all around the bar,“ the man says, because of course he can’t just give up. ”It’s obvious you’re looking for something, only to wind up next to me,“ he continues in what he probably thinks is an alluring tone, ”there’s no reason to play hard to get now.”

"‘M not playing anythin’,” Bucky snaps, cutting his gaze to the side just long enough to give the man a sharp glare, "and I’m not interested."

The asshole on the next stool just laughs, and Bucky can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans closer. “Don’t be like that,” he says with another slimey laugh, “you don’t even know me yet, and I’m very interesting.”

Bucky lets himself outright scoff at that, because he very seriously doubts that this bar-regular who can��t take no for an answer has any sort of hobby that Bucky would find interesting. He can see it from the corner of his eye when the asshole scowls, when his fingers curl tighter around his drink, and Bucky sighs internally.

“What, you think you’re too good to even give me the fucking time of day?” The guy demands, abandoning his attempt at a sultry tone in favor of a snarl. It sounds more natural for him, honestly.

There are a lot of ways Bucky could answer that.

He could point out that technically at this point it would be ‘time of night.’ Or he could get brutally honest and say that while he doesn’t usually think very highly of himself at all these days, he does still think he can do better than this random bar asshole. Maybe not a whole lot better, but better.

Instead of saying anything at all though, Bucky reluctantly tears his eyes away from the Stark heir across the small bar. He turns to finally face the man next to him and fixes him with a dry, expectant stare, quirking an eyebrow and letting the man fill in how ‘interesting’ Bucky thinks he is for himself.

The asshole’s face starts to twist with rage, but he smooths it out again with what looks like a fair amount of effort before saying, “Well, how about you let me buy you a drink and give me sixty seconds to change your mind.”

“No,” Bucky says shortly and starts to turn away. But then the man starts to reach for him, like he’s going to grab Bucky’s shoulder to stop him, and Bucky goes tense all over.

Part of him, a big part, wants to break this asshole’s wrist and be done with it, but that would draw way too much attention. He doesn’t trust himself to grab the man’s hand without breaking something, and he can’t even risk punching the jerk when his entire job relies on Tony never noticing him.

So Bucky has to settle for moving out of the asshole’s reach, shifting half off of his stool to accomplish it, and glaring harder as he snaps, "Do not touch me."

If the man was less drunk, and less of a dick, there’s no doubt that Bucky’s best death glare would be enough to chase him off. But he is a drunk asshole, so instead of running he grits his teeth and narrows his eyes.

“Listen, asshole,” the guy starts and Bucky does outright laugh at that, sharp and mocking.

He’s not surprised that the man’s face flushes an angrier shade of red, but Bucky really couldn’t help himself. The asshole continues to sputter for a second before sliding ungracefully off his stool and pulling himself up to his full height, wobbling slightly in the process.

“I don’t appreciate you- fuckin’- talking down to me,” the asshole spits furiously, but Bucky isn’t listening to him anymore.

With a sigh, Bucky slides the rest of the way off of his own stool and he can only hope that Tony is still distracted with the trucker-hat-douche because this is definitely about to become a scene. At least it’s somewhat gratifying to watch the drunk stumble back half a step when Bucky pulls himself up to his full height and squares his shoulders, but it doesn’t look like the man plans on backing down.

“Last chance to walk away,” Bucky warns because he has had it with tonight. At this point he will be perfectly happy to get kicked out of this shitty bar and fuck this job.

The asshole has his mouth open to respond, but then his eyes go wide as Bucky feels someone winding their arms around his and plastering themself tightly to his side. Bucky feels his own face twitch in shock when he jerks his gaze to the side and realizes that it’s Tony clinging to him.

Tony, who Bucky is supposed to be keeping an eye on, and who is not supposed to even be aware of Bucky’s existence. Tony, who is smiling up at him like Bucky isn’t a complete stranger to him, like he knows Bucky.

“There you are, hot stuff,” Tony says, his tone as familiar as his grin, and Bucky has a terrible feeling about the future of his employment. “I was starting to think you were standing me up,” Tony continues, fluttering those long eyelashes up at him.

The eyelashes that Bucky has tried so hard not to notice, but he’s sure as hell noticing them now.

Even caught off guard, and maybe a little distracted, Bucky isn’t a complete moron. He knows what Tony is doing, so he quickly pulls it together and works up a smile of his own.

“Wouldn’t’ve been so hard t’ spot you if you’d picked a less crowded place,” Bucky finds himself saying, because he can’t not complain about this dive bar now that he’s been given the chance.

Tony throws his head back with a laugh, and Bucky does not let himself get caught up in the sound of it. Not even a little.

“I * knew* you would hate it,” Tony says gleefully and the light in his eyes isn’t just teasing, it’s knowing.

Like Tony actually chose this bar just to annoy him, and Bucky is officially in so over his head.

He is also reluctantly charmed, and Bucky can’t fight down a tiny grin of his own even as he shakes his head and says, “You-”

“Hey,” the asshole interrupts, apparently not happy with being completely ignored.

He’s glaring at both of them now, and Bucky automatically shifts so he’s a little more between the drunk and the person he’s supposed to be secretly bodyguarding. He can at least still do half of his job. Tony grins at him like he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking, and hell, he probably does. Just like it’s probably no accident that Tony is wrapped around his good arm, making it much less likely that he’ll throw a punch.

Nothing would really surprise Bucky at this point, Tony is so damn smart and apparently Bucky has been underestimating him, too. And apparently, Tony has been watching him back, and Bucky has no idea what to do with that.

When the asshole makes another impatient sound Tony finally deigns to look over at him, barely tearing his gaze away from Bucky long enough to flit his eyes over the man from head to foot.

“Bye,” Tony says, his tone artfully dismissive, and then goes right back to grinning up at Bucky like the other man doesn’t exist.

To Tony’s credit, his cold, superior tone has the asshole automatically taking a step backward, even as he sputters, "Dude, wh- what the fuck-"

“What part are you not getting?” Tony asks, one sharp eyebrow crawling up his forehead as he slowly turns to face the asshole again, like he’s still unconvinced that the man is worth the effort. ”He was looking for someone, now he’s found me,“ Tony continues as he smoothly fits himself under Bucky’s arm, ”no part of this has anything to do with you, so you can go ahead and leave now."

Bucky can’t quite bite down his laugh when the drunk man sputters dumbly again, and the tiny grin that Tony flashes up at him has Bucky’s heartbeat doing truly concerning things in his chest. But he’s not thinking about that, just like he’s not thinking about the way his arm has automatically fallen around Tony’s shoulders, the way Tony fits perfectly against his side.

“L-Listen here, you little-” the asshole stutters and then trails off, his face going scarlet as he seems to notice all of the people staring at them.

"Little what?" Tony asks coldly, the look on his face just daring the asshole to come up with something that Tony hasn’t been called before. Bucky is equal parts impressed, enraged at his employer all over again, and trying his best not to be completely smitten.

The asshole’s face is nearly purple as his eyes dart from side to side, taking note of the increasing number of people watching them with open interest and amusement.

“Fuck this,” he grumbles and finally starts to back away, deciding to save what little face he has left in front of this crowd of college douchebags. He apparently has to try and get the last word though, because as he turns he shoots Bucky a final glare he loudly mutters “I could do better anyways.”

“Doubt it!” Tony calls after him gleefully, and the on-looking crowd laughs. Then he turns his bright grin up at Bucky, and oh, fuck.

Bucky is so fucking fucked.

“Do you want to get out of here, now?” Tony asks, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” Bucky groans instantly and emphatically, all thoughts of his imminent unemployment momentarily forgotten in the force of his relief over getting to leave.

Being caught by Tony is the least of the rules he’s broken, but he can worry about that later, or maybe never. It’s not like anyone needs to know that he’s been slowly but surely failing the first rule of bodyguarding over months of catching glimpses of the real Tony. Except Tony might know, because he’s been watching Bucky back.

And Tony is still grinning smugly as he starts to drag Bucky out of the bar with his arm still looped comfortably around Bucky’s waist, staying plastered to his side. Bucky has no idea if it’s necessary or not, he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony to see if the asshole is still hanging around.

He does spare the most fleeting thought for the trucker hat douche that Tony was flirting with before, but that’s only to think that at least this mess is getting Tony away from that asshole. Tony deserves so much better, of that Bucky is sure, he’s had way too much time to think about it while watching Tony flirt with every type of douchebag.

Once they’re out in the cool night air Bucky drags in his first deep breath in what feels like hours, relishing in the slightly less disgusting smells of the city. At least there’s less old-vomit smell.

When Tony snickers Bucky looks over at him again, honestly not sure what to make of the teasing, knowing smile on Tony’s face.

”So, where to now?“ Tony asks innocently, like he’s not still actively throwing Bucky’s life into chaos.

”Off to look for a new job, probably,“ Bucky grumbles, but he can’t actually force any annoyance into his voice. It’s not like he actually likes this job, after all, but…

He’ll probably never see Tony again, once he’s fired, and that thought sends a sharp pang through his chest that Bucky is trying not to think about too hard. Tony is still staring up at him as they start to aimlessly wander down the sidewalk, apparently trusting Bucky not to run them into any street signs, and Bucky is trying not to think about that either.

”Why?“ Tony asks, sounding genuinely confused, and then he pouts as he adds, ”I can go back to pretending not to notice you, is that more fun? Little weird, big-time stalker vibes, but I can work with that.“

Bucky huffs out a laugh, then raises an eyebrow as he asks, ”“S that what you’re into? That why you haven’ ditched me yet, like all th’ others?”

“Give yourself some credit,” Tony says, patting his side, “I did try at first, but you’re hard to shake. Plus, you’re much cuter than the rest of them were.”

Bucky tears his eyes away from Tony’s teasing, flirty grin, looking back down the dark street and trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. ”Maybe I’m jus’ sick of bein’ dragged to college bars,“ he says after a pause that’s probably tellingly long.

”Okay,“ Tony says agreeably, and when Bucky looks over at him in surprise, he finds Tony grinning up at him with an almost hopeful look in his eyes as he asks, ”How do you feel about burgers?“

Bucky finds himself trailing to a stop, still staring at Tony, who stopped right along with him and is now watching with a nervous little smile, like maybe he thinks the ‘better’ that he deserves is somehow Bucky.

For a second all Bucky can do is stare, his mouth gone completely dry. He has to lick his lips, watching Tony’s clever gaze track the motion, before he can croak out, “Seems like I’m gonna be fired for a different reason.”

Tony laughs, delighted, and starts leading him down the street again as he asks, ”What are you talking about? What better place to guard me from than up close and personal?“

Bucky is pretty sure that the elder Stark would not agree with that statement, but like hell is he going to be the one to point that out. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, and he’s definitely going to get fired for this sooner or later, but with any luck, it won’t be the last time he sees Tony.

”So, burgers?“ Bucky asks as he tightens his arm a little more around Tony’s shoulders, and when Tony smiles wider Bucky finally lets himself acknowledge the way it makes his heart flip over itself in his chest.

#my fic #winteriron #bucky/tony #starkbucks #riot writes

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violetmuses · 5 months ago

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Chances - A. Aretas 🌿

Title: Chances - A. Aretas (Small Town AU) 🌿

Fandom: Bad Boys Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You join Armando's neighborhood.

Author's Note: Here is another quick drabble request. Enjoy! 💜 @nobodygetsza

=====

2024

His mother Isabel passed away years ago, but still offered an inheritance. Meanwhile, his estranged father, Detective Mike Lowrey, joined the famed Miami Police Department.

Now, leaving South Beach to find peace and quiet, Armando Aretas reached this small town, using planned money to settle in other ways.

One day, word spread that someone new entered the neighborhood.

Even while you unpacked belongings, Armando somehow daydreamed.

You, this beautiful and most likely sweet person, handed out water bottles as workers dealt with this ongoing heatwave.

By nightfall, he grinned for the first time in quite a while and looked forward so much more.

_____

“How's everything?” The store clerk rang up your items and offered small talk.

“Good.” You beamed, thankful while air conditioning eased this place.”I'm new in town, so….”

“Welcome.” The clerk finished working with you and helped other people in line. Come again.”

Just as you planned on leaving the store, someone else walked in.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You nearly pushed one stranger with your shopping cart as this man veiled brown eyes, wearing this trucker hat.

“It's okay.” This stranger moved out of the way first and gave room for you to step near that parking lot. “Have a good one.”

“You, too.” You pull feelings together and leave after packing the trunk, not freaking out in public.

So embarrassing.

______

After coming home and putting away groceries, you found this note waiting in the mailbox.

It was me. Don't worry. - Neighbor 😂

Oh, no! You almost panicked and immediately remember what happened at the store.

You didn't learn his name yet, but this gentleman keeps massive farmland settled right across from your house. Even horses roam on cooler days.

Just as you'd share lemonade and apologize, the doorbell rings.

“Hey…” Opening that front door, you almost gaped.

"Hi, I'm so sorry for what happened earlier.“

‘No need to apologize.” His slightly accented English revealed itself more. “Armando.”

“Hello, Armando.” You finally greeted this man in person.

And two years later, you married him.

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 1 year ago

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here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: Tessa gets Rhett a gift she worries is too much. (wc: 1960)

Requested: YES by @oneelleandaneye

Warnings: just rhett and tess being couple goals, mostly fluff but it takes a sharp suggestive turn at the end there it is literally not my fault rhett abbott is a dog

✎……MASTERLIST

Finishing up the wrapping with the last bit of tape, Tessa bit her lip anxiously.

It wasn’t his birthday and it wasn’t even their anniversary, either. Hell, they hadn’t even reached six months, let alone one year, of dating. As she stared down at the blue and white striped paper, she wondered if she should just forget about it. Hide it until a more appropriate date or just return it.

God, but she spent so much money on it. Custom made to her specifications, hand crafted by a guy out in Montana who still did it the traditional way like the old cowboys. Of course, Rhett could never find out how much money she actually spent on the gift. He would put up a fuss about how it could have been spent on something more important than him. Literally anything other than himself. Speaking like it was a simple and immovable fact that he didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. With those blue eyes downcast and cheeks flushed and a slight shake of his head — sincere in his denial and assertion.

Part of her wondered if he would react that way even if he didn’t know how much she spent.

Maybe this was a dumb idea after all.

With a sigh, Tessa got up from the floor and picked up the wrapped gift from the coffee table. Hiding it was probably her best option now. Deep in a closet somewhere where he couldn’t possibly find it — and maybe she would forget about it as well.

But then, just before she could mentally decide which closet in her little cottage Rhett was least likely to go snooping through, there was a knock at the front door. Most likely her mother coming over to check if she needed anything to tide her over for the weekend, snacks or drinks or, most likely, if she wanted to walk over to the main house to spend the day.

Gift still in hand, Tessa pulled open the door with a greeting ready and waiting on her tongue. It died right there in her mouth however, when she saw who was really on the front porch.

“Rhett,” she said, trying not to sound so shocked that he was there. “Wh-What are you doin’ here?”

Brows furrowed, he quickly looked down at his phone then back up at her. “Sorry, this a bad time? Y’said I could come over whenever, so…”

It was ten in the morning on a Saturday. And it warmed something in Tessa’s chest that he would want to come over this early and spend the whole day with her. That he would stand on her front porch ready to leave at her word but so eager to stay. Booted feet shuffling on the treated wood and blinking down at her rapidly from beneath the brim of his trucker hat. He wanted to be with her. Not even doing anything, they made no plans. Just hanging out together, maybe running some errands because she desperately needed to restock the snacks she kept hidden in her room at the Boy’s Home. Somehow domestic and somehow so natural and good that sometimes it scared her. How easily things came between her and Rhett.

She gripped the small gift still clutched in her hand tighter. Maybe that was why she was so nervous to give it to him.

What if this was finally the thing that messed it all up?

“No, this — this isn’a bad time,” she finally answered, opening the door wider and moving out of the way for him to come inside. “Jus’caught me off guard, s’all.”

Rhett smiled sheepishly as he stepped through the doorway, plucking his hat from his head and hanging it on the hooks just inside. Running a hand through his hair, he nodded his head towards her hands with a grin.

“Wha’s that?”

Tessa looked down at the little wrapped box as she clicked the door shut behind him. “Uh…It’s um…”

She looked back up into his expectant face, eyebrows raised in a nearly amused way while he toed off his boots, trying to think of some lie that would keep the gift from him for just a little bit longer. It’s for one of the boys? It’s for my dad? Her brain screamed at her to say something, anything, to get him off her back. But with his hands on his hips and slight narrowing of his eyes, she knew she was done for. They both knew she was shit liar anyway. He wouldn’t have believed her even if she had been able to come up with something and finally wrestled it past her lips.

With a sigh, she held it out to him and muttered, “S’for you.”

“Me?” he questioned on a chuckle, pulling the gift from her fingers almost reluctantly. “Why?”

“No reason. Just…Got the idea n’couldn’t let it go ‘till I…Yeah…” she replied honestly.

His smile was small and shy as he turned the present around and around in those big, calloused hands. Like he was looking for the timer to a bomb that would go off when he ripped the paper. He kept his eyes trained on it as he meandered over to the couch, shoulders hunched.

“Jus’cause?” he asked as he slowly lowered himself onto the cushions.

“Yeah. Jus’cause.” Tessa followed after him slowly, sitting down next to him on the couch and keeping a bit-lip silence until he started tearing the paper away from the box. “I hope y’like it. I-I know y’re supposed t’win’em, but I jus’thought…”

She knew if she kept talking it would turn into a ramble. A proverbial vomiting of words that would leave Rhett feeling overwhelmed and unsure how he felt. Saying whatever it took to get her to stop talking even if he didn’t really mean it. So instead, she watched anxiously with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as he finished off tearing away the wrapping paper. As he lifted the lid from the box and took in what was carefully tucked inside the protective styrofoam casing.

“Oh,” he muttered quietly as his blue eyes like cloudy days scanned the gift.

It was a belt buckle. The silver plating shiny and new. Engraved into it was a stylized sun and a bull’s horn on either side. From all the imperfections and the attention to detail, it was clear that it was handcrafted. Rustic in its design, old school. Rhett traced his thumb over the line work but didn’t take it out of the box still sat lazily over his spread thighs.

Tessa felt her expression drop, her heart sink into her gut. “You don’like it.”

“No, no —” he immediately answered, glancing over at her quickly then back down to the buckle. “I jus’...How much’d you spend on this?”

And there it was. That sincere denial and assertion. With those blue eyes downcast and cheeks flushed and a slight shake of his head as he continued to look at the gift. She could practically see what he was thinking. How he didn’t deserve this. How she should have spent her money on something else. Anything else. How he hadn’t earned it.

Where did he learn that love was something that had to be earned? Where did he get the idea that he didn’t deserve to be treated to nice things?

From her experience, she knew where he learned. And it twisted up something angry and sour in her gut that forced the corners of her mouth to turn down. Apples never fell far from trees in Wabang, and sometimes it was the trees that were doing the throwing. Because it was clear to her, as she watched him waiting for her answer on the price, that he did like the gift. Despite all his hesitations. He wouldn’t stop looking at it. Tracing his thumb over the rough edges of the etching.

He might not have earned it the way he had all those other buckles she saw lined up on his dresser, but he wanted this one.

And she wanted him to want it freely.

“Doesn’matter how much I spent,” she finally said, tucking her legs up underneath herself as she scooted closer to him. “I jus’know…Y’always call me sunshine n’y’always say I’m y’r good luck charm before a ride so…Jus’a little bit’a good luck sunshine t’carry around with ya.”

Rhett finally turned his head to look over at her, a lock of dark hair curled at the end falling into his face. He chewed his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as he studied her like she was about to change her mind at any second. But her mind was set, and so she smiled. Small and reassuring as she reached out and tucked that stray hair behind his ear like she knew he liked.

“You sure?” he questioned quietly.

“Positive.” Then she quickly added on, “I mean, y’don’have t’wear it if ya don’like it, obviously, but I jus’thought —”

But Rhett was quick to cut her off as he pulled the buckle from the box. “No, I love it. It, uh — reminds me’a you.”

Tessa felt her cheeks heat up as he turned the buckle over in his large palm, inspecting the blacksmith’s symbol on the back. That was what she was hoping for, even though the thought of it still sounded weirdly conceited to her. They didn’t get to spend much time together with her busy and consistently changing schedule with the Boy’s Home and him trying his hand at more out of state rodeos. But this way, he could carry around a piece of her always. Could bring him good luck even when she couldn’t be there. Could maybe keep those buckle bunnies from oogling what wasn’t theirs.

“Good, m’glad y’like it.”

Without another word or thought, Rhett got up from the couch. Tessa felt a heat pool in her belly, and in her cheeks, as she watched him. One handed, he undid his belt and slid the old buckle he was wearing off. She swallowed something thick as he put the new buckle on his belt and redid the clasp.

Like her own claim on him. Her own mark.

He turned to her once he felt it was centered, those slightly too tight jeans hugging his thighs and hips on full display with his fingers perched on the leather of his belt. Right in front of her face. She had to stop herself from rubbing her thighs together at the sight of her sunshine sitting pretty and shiny right above his zipper.

“Whaddaya think? Look good?” he asked, looking down at the buckle then up at her with the most sincere expression.

Christ, he had no idea what he was doing to her.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed with a nod.

“What?” he chuckled lowly.

Her throat was suddenly too dry to really speak. Tongue too big to form the words as her eyes kept flicking back and forth between his expectant smiling face and the buckle he now wore. Tessa never thought she could be possessive until this moment. But there it was, rearing its ugly head as she thought about everyone seeing him wearing it and knowing what it meant.

That he was hers.

Rhett Abbott was hers.

With his quiet way of speaking and passion and kindness and sincerity so loud she could nearly see it. With his big hand, rough and warm, cupping her cheek and gently forcing her to look up into his face.

“Y’like it?” he asked again, softer and darker all at once, an understanding taking hold of his face.

“Yes,” she squeaked breathlessly.

A small grin ticked up the corner of his mouth, and he nodded his head down at her as he said, “Show me, sunshine.”

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

#oc: tessa abernathy #fic: here to stay #fd: outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fic #ocapp #fic request #filled prompt #rhett abbott x tessa abernathy #lewis pullman

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automicbaseball · 6 months ago

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June 1st we went to see the Mariners vs Angels at T-Mobile for their first pride themed game! Here I'm going to share a few insights and happiness as I usually do. All this I was lucky to share with my partner and wife, @warriorbeeofthesea

Before I get to that, I was very pleased to help raise the pride flag over city hall today! The city has declared that it's officially pride month aka they recognize and make it certain, as far as the city is concerned.

They invited people to come out and help observe and raise the flag, and boy howdy did we queers represent! Lots of cool folks, parents, children, all types attended and it was wonderful to see and be a part of. I only got a screenshot, but here ya go;

Back at the ballpark, the Mariners were giving away cute trucker hats and if you purchased the event tickets, pride jerseys! These aren't like the highest quality, but weirdly, compared to my Mariners City Connect, these have actual emblems sewn on (same with the Hello Kitty ones). In any case, the tickets weren't much more than any other regular seats.

The lines were long as shit, but with friends and certainty, I didn't mind. Being neurospicy means I have to plan for high energy interactions, and in my case specifically, for inefficiency.

It was a well attended game, and I felt really happy and safe to so many folks excited to be themselves! As usual, I dressed in my Pronouns jersey, but today I went with nice big jeans shorts and tights (vs my usual of a kilt or skirt).

We actually have three jerseys, the striped one you see below, the button up that has a primary of red, and the sunset sleeveless jersey, which incidentally looks like a bisexual theme.

Initially we sat in the pride section (the aforementioned tickets usually group affiliate groups in a section or three, they even had a banner!), but since my partners and friends are rather neurospicy, we wanted to sit together with some room to spare.

Starting at sections 317-319 or so, and then to 309;

I don't have as many pics as I usually might, but I may have found a margarita vendor somewhat early who ran out of mix, and filled my cup with what I believe was entirely tequila, putting me on the dehydrated track.

I was so full of cheer that I definitely just floated happily through the game with wonderful chats and seeing cool people.

I did indeed get a hat, however, I had a fun interaction in the line for beer somewhere in the 4th inning or so. A gay couple and I chatted (they found my jersey cute), and I had the idea to just give them my hat, as they hadn't made it in time to get theirs. I know my wife has theirs and we're going to another game that's giving these out later. The fellows were kind enough to put my brews on their rab, and one exclaimed their happiness at random acts of joy.

In the end, the Ms won 9-0. Here are a few highlights;

* Ryan Bliss with his first stolen base and his first MLB hit! A solid bloop to the center field gap for a single. The kid was called up recently and this was his 4th game. I love seeing people get called to the show, and in his case, he dreamed of playing for the Mariners. I love his energy and ability and look forward to seeing him play more!

* JP Crawford crushes a grand slam in the bottom of the 4th to get us up 5-0.

* Bryce Miller with 9 Ks!

* Luke "Nukem" Raley with a solo home run.

* Julio Rodriguez goes 3 for 4 with 2 RBIs.

* Kirby Snead induces a weak bouncing grounder to Ty France for an unassisted 3 for the final out, giving Miller and the Mariners the win!

What a wonderful day for ball.

#seattle mariners #baseball #goms #mlb #pride month #trans pride #lgbtqia #transgender #polyamory #Seattle

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taiblogcomics · 6 months ago

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Everyone Deals With Jerks

Hey there, disquieting wetness. Welp, we got more Countdown today. That should be obvious! We're not even far enough in to be quippy in the preamble! Let's just get this over with~

Here's the cover:

You know, at least this cover is pretty cool. I'll certainly give it that. Very symbolic! A giant hand (that of the Monitor) clutching the Earth in its grasp, symbolising the power he holds over it. Already a cool-ass image! And then you've got the heroes painfully chained to it, just as they are to their duty. And that we'll be introduced to Donna Troy and Kyle Rayner this issue! My one question, though: where did the chains come from? Like, they're tiny compared to the Monitor's hand. Is making very tiny glowing chains part of his powerset? What is his powerset, while we're at it~?

So this weekly multiverse-spanning maxi-series event starts with the murder of Duela Dent, AKA Joker's Daughter. Jason Todd was witness to the Monitor committing the deed, but he doesn't know the significance of that. Mary Marvel is friendless and powerless, and looking to cure both. The Rogues are planning a big crime and doing drugs, which is probably already a crime. Karate Kid has amnesia. And Jimmy Olsen goes to Arkham to interview the Joker, who has no real connection to Duela. Finding out it was a waste of time, Jimmy goes to leave, failing his perception check for Killer Croc getting loose just behind him.

Thankfully we open immediately to Arkham Asylum. If you're going to end the last issue on a cliffhanger, you better have the courtesy to immediately pick up that cliffhanger next time. But yeah, even though last issue ended with Croc right behind Jimmy, this one spends a whole page of Jimmy walking away, holding a phone conversation with Lois, putting up some dramatic irony about how of course he's safe, do you know whose Pal he is? All while Croc rushes up behind him and attacks. But Jimmy somehow isn't murdered. Instead, he takes a two-page spread to stretch out of the way like rubber!

Jimmy elasti-kicks Croc away, then shrinks back to human proportions. Croc has no idea how Jimmy did that, but before he can attack again, the Arkham guards finally catch up and shock Croc full of 1.21 gigawatts to knock him out. They somehow didn't see Jimmy do the stretchy thing, so they're like "Wow, super cool how you stood your ground against Croc, how did you know he wouldn't gut you?" And Jimmy can only muse that he thought Croc had. Well, Jimmy, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about and will make complete sense in the long run.

Now we cut over to the Monitors, who are busy doing the thing they're most famous for in this series. Yes, surprisingly murdering Duela Dent is somehow not the most famous idiotic action these celestial crum-bums are responsible for (though she is the topic of the current meeting). No, what they're most famous for in this series is sitting on their asses and arguing with each other. If you've seen Linkara's reviews, you already know the words. Everyone say it with me: "We should do something!" "Should we do something?"

Let's put that aside. Instead, we go back up to the JLA satellite HQ, where Karate Kid is being held. He seems to have come to his senses. Our old friend Roy Harper is standing guard, and this is when Roy was still Red Arrow. Neither Cry for Justice nor his stupid trucker hat have happened yet, and I miss this Roy. Roy's like "What sucks so much in the future that you're back here", and ha ha, just you wait, Roy. Here in 2024, loads of us would love to go back to 2007, so imagine how bad it is in a thousand years. Heck, Roy, you were dead after Heroes in Crisis, you didn't even live to see the pandemic!

Over on the very specific location of "the eastern seaboard", there's a fat guy in a silk robe wiring some funds by phone on his private yacht. As soon as he's done transferring the cash, he tosses his phone aside and then tosses himself overboard. That's when you get the reveal of the Rogues, Pied Piper having used his hypnotic music to manipulate the guy into doing that. Well, no complaints, I guess. They are villains, and that guy was a rich CEO. Hell, frankly I'd side with the supervillains before I'd side with a billionaire~

So this little stunt was essentially an initiation test for Trickster and Piper to get them into the upcoming scheme. Piper transfers the money to Mirror Master's account and he confirms it. Piper then leans over, presses one button on the laptop and it sends the money out of his account. Mirror Master's furious, but Piper says "Now we're even for killing my parents", and Mirrors goes with it. Wow, held the conflict for almost four panels. He then walks off to confirm their position in the upcoming heist with Captain Cold.

Piper then secretly reveals he hypnotised the CEO guy to be immune to getting tired swimming to shore. So he's probably going to die of exhaustion either way. Trickster (who contributed nothing) then bullies Piper into giving him the money to keep it quiet that he spared the CEO. Piper agrees, and we see a Homeless Children charity suddenly realise they gained then lost a $100,000,000 donation in the span of a few seconds. Maybe it was a glitch? So we've established that Piper is a secret good person working with assholes, and Trickster is an asshole leeching off other assholes. Great!

So do you remember last issue how Madame Xanadu told Mary Marvel to stay away from Gotham City for her own good? Well, Mary Marvel is in Gotham, and she's running from some thugs. Who could have predicted this outcome~? A literal psychic~? She ducks into a mosque to evade them, and is briefly startled by its familiar-looking architecture. As she's trying to escape the asshats, who drop a racist term just so you know they suck, they suddenly get picked off violently by someone else in the building. Someone who doesn't like either intruders or racists. The comic ends with the reveal that it's Black Adam, who may hate being disturbed, but is intrigued to run into Mary Marvel…

Well, I guess first thing, I want to retract my kudos to the cover for being good, because not only did it feature characters who aren't in the comic, it still hasn't introduced Donna or Kyle to the cast. Some folks complain when the cover has spoilers on it for things that happen in that particular issue. This one has spoilers on the cover for things that haven't even happened yet! Truly well done. Other than that, yeah. The running theme of this issue is that everyone is an asshole. Except Jimmy, Piper, and Mary Marvel (and her day will come, trust me). Like, this issue isn't infuriating or anything. But we're three issues in and there's nobody to root for. A recurring theme for the rest of the series, as you'll see!

#comics #reviews #Countdown #Countdown to Final Crisis #Taiblog

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traegics · 5 months ago

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Amusement twitched at her lips at his response, brows rising and falling with ease at his never ending ability to quickly quip back with witty banter, something that she, though she might not admit it, had always found to be one of her favorite things about him. "I was a real Dave Chapelle around the campfire," Hayley's quick to counter before her own eye roll is given. "Oh yes I'm sure you scoured every inch of my people's backwater home in search of it. I can picture it now. Tell me, did you dress the part too? Mother trucker hat and everything? If not, well, then we know why you didn't find any." The smile is present even if just for a fleeting moment as the atmosphere around them is shifting and her gaze is meeting his own. "I know, Klaus," she insists, leather clad arms crossing over her chest as her frame shifts to fully face the hybrid. "I know you wouldn't do anything to put her in harm's way but these people they- They hurt our daughter, Klaus. They tortured her for weeks. They have killed my people, they tortured your nephew's wife, they-" She pauses, her gaze flicking in the direction of her husband who was currently reacquainting himself with some of the other Crescents and her voice lowers. "They had Jackson all this time," she finally tells him. "For the last year and a half he has been held hostage by these people, used as a test subject, tortured." Her gaze returns to Klaus, emerald eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she searched his own cerulean pair, pleading with him to continue his explanation before a sigh is eased from her lips. "You think this is the only way to do this," the vampire questions softly. "There's nothing else that we can do to end this organization once and for all? I know you, Klaus, better than most of the people in this compound. If this is what you believe to be the only way then fine, you know that I trust you, that I'll back your play. You'll have the Crescent's on your side but hear me now, if I see even the slightest hint of this not going the way that you want it to, that you think it will-" She quiets, head tilting to the side as she maintains his gaze. There was no need to finish her statement, she was more than certain that he knew where she was going with it. There was no way that she was going to let anything or anyone rip her away from her daughter, not again. "I can't leave her again," Hayley states firmly. "And she can't lose you again either so please just- be careful."

Rolling his eyes, Klaus inhaled a sharp breath – the air hissing through his teeth as he muttered, “hilarious, love – truly. I’m certain you were quite the comedian around the campfire.” His lips twitched; having to take a moment to compose himself as to not laugh in her face “oh, on the contrary” and his tone feigned promise, “I can assure you that I scoured the lengths of the bayou in search of the most reputable moonshine dealer – but alas, your littermates must have already drank the well dry. But I agree and I sympathise, it is a shame love.” A wry smile was offered, Klaus a little too pleased with himself, before the shift in atmosphere returned and his features softened. “You know my heart, Hayley. You know the love I have for our daughter – how everything I do – have done, is for her.” His voice remained low, turning to face the other with a steady expulsion of breath, “the OEA have resources far beyond anything that can be imagined. Their toxicity has taken hold in cities all over the globe. But whilst they believe themselves to be an empire – the very foundations that they work from are fractured. I can be the one to shake those foundations, to bring the entire organization collapsing around them. It takes a single match to start a forest fire, does it not?" Dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper, he mused "watch me cause an inferno, love.”

#~But even when you hate him...; Klaus #~the house was awake with shadows and monster the hallways they echoed and groaned; hayley marshall kenner

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gxdsfavgal · 2 years ago

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Cowboy Take Me Away

Pairing: Cowboy!Bob Floyd x Cowgirl!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, thumb sucking, oral (male receiving), face fucking, slight overstimulation, it’s dirty... but its also short, not edited

A/N: cowboy!bob... orgasm! anyways, this is inspired by Cowboy Take Me Away by The Chicks

Bobby just got back from deployment earlier this week and with the problems all around the property, I haven’t been able to welcome him back.

His family and mine have been neighbors since before we both were born.

“Hey hun, it’s our turn to feed the horses. I gotta get to town, can you do it?” my dad asked as he was looking around the house for his truck keys.

“Umm sure I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders as I slipped on my boots and putting on my trucker hat.

“Thanks! And maybe go say hi to Robert, i’m sure he’d like to see you.” he pushed the bill of my hat and left the door with a chuckle.

I quickly headed to the garage starting up the quad, my dog Boomer running in circles ready for the ride.

I hopped on and drifted out of the drive way and onto the acres of grass, Boomer running behind me as his ears flopped repeatedly.

Five minutes later, I parked in front of the wooden and brick stable. The doors already fully opened, I walked in making sure to check all of my sides.

Boomer running ahead of me, taking a sharp turn and barking. There was the mystery man, getting ready to wheel out the food for the stallions but petting Boomer with one hand.

“Bobby?” I called out to the man in a tight shirt, Wrangler jeans, and a cowboy hat.

He turned around, squinting to see who it was. As I walked closer, I can tell by his facial expressions that he realized it was me.

“Y/n!” he dropped the barrel of alfalfa and took long strides at me with a big smile on both of our faces.

I welcomed him with open arms, his arms hugging tight and his body warm against me.

He steps away and places his hands on his hips. “Booms almost had me in the bone orchard.” he bent down, scratching behind my furry companions ear.

“What are you doing here? I was gon come by and visit you.” I playfully scolded him as he began wheeling the food out to the aisle.

“I was gon take Pilot on a ride but saw that they’ve done ate all their food.” he was talking more like he was from California, his drawl barely there.

“Mind if I join?” I asked, hoping he gave the okay.

“Of course you can.” he smiled, opening up the gate of stall and scooping the pellets.

I helped him feed all eight horses in the herd stables that’s shared amongst our two families and the two across from us.

We both grabbed our separate horses and readied them up, putting on their head piece and saddles.

We pulled them out of the stables and mounted.

“Where to Bobby?” we slowly galloped as we decided on where to ride to.

“Cubby?”

My eyes lit up and my cheeks hurt from smiling when I heard of our childhood treehouse our fathers partnered up on building for us.

We signaled our rides to trot and head towards the playhouse.

Once we arrived, we tied up our horses to the base of the tree then we climbed on up. The wood was rickety, yet steady and sturdy still after all these years.

We walked around the small house, looking at all our old toys and carving, opening up the windows to see the view of our neighboring lands.

“I haven’t been up here in like 8 years” I whispered, swiping my finger along the dusty plastic table.

“I forgot this even existed until I saw you.” he chuckled. I can feel heat creep up onto my the apples of my cheeks.

I saw down onto the old plastic table that my dad added when we were younger, Bob leaned against the railing of the window with his back towards the view.

“How's umm uh.. Jeremy? That's his name right?” he squinted his eyes are the possible mistake of the name.

“Oh I broke up with him.” I went straight to the point of my past relationship.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes wider than before.

“Yep, I finally realized that he was just using me” his eyebrows furrowed from heading what that son of a bitch did. “Didn’t like him that much anyways.”

I shrugged my shoulders and Bob chuckled quietly.

“How about you? Any lucky Navy lady?” I asked, kicked my feet up onto the table and holding them to my chest.

“Nope.” he popped the ending of the word.

“What?” I yelled out in surprised. “You? Robby? Robert Floyd doesn't have a Navy Lady?”

I was in literal shock, my mouth open and jaw on the floor.

“Robby, please don't tell me you didn't fuck someone at least once while you were deployed.” I looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for his answer.

This was a typical conversation between us, it’s been like this since he told me about his first time jerking off in middle school.

“I just used my hand and pillow.” his hands rubbed across his face, normal signs showing that he was embarrassed.

“You're joking with me!” I had my hand covering my mouth, my feet now dangling off the little kiddie table.

“I’m not.” now rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“How about I help you and you help me?” I outed, keeping my eyes on him to see his reaction.

“What’d you say?” he crossed his arms.

“I haven't gotten off since I broke up with Jeremy a month ago, and well you were deployed for like 8 weeks without a proper orgasm.” I told him our struggles.

I can tell by the look on his face that he thought I was absolutely going mad. His face also looked like he wasn't opposed to the idea.

“I- I don't know about this.” he stuttered out, his eyes flickered all around the room.

“Bobby, we’ve been best friends since we popped out of the womb. You’ve seen my naked a handful of times.” I looked at him with darkened eyes.

His demeanor changed, his back straightened up and lips curled into a smirk. He was deep in his thoughts, thinking about everything we can do, every position, and everywhere we could do it.

I knew that Bob had a crush on me when we were in high school when we both started to mature and get horny. We never had sex, but those many parties that I forced him to come with me to turned into something. Little make out sessions in the corner of the parties to dry humping on the nasty couch until one of us came. He always made sure I didn't drink much because he didn't want to haul my ass back into the truck.

I would be lying if I said that I was never attracted to Bob and that I never fantasized about him. Bob has it all, the brains, the look, the charm, and he’s my best friend.

“Look, I don't want to fuck if you're just using me to get over Jeremy.” he was stern, his arms crossed and legs spread apart. I couldn't tell if I was drooling or not.

I was taken back by his words. “Robert, you know I would never use you. I would never treat you the way that son-of-a-bitch Jeremy treated me.” I jumped off the kiddie table and made slow steps towards his figure.

His chin was down but his eyes were watching every step I took.

“Im gonna be honest here Bobby.” I stopped with a foot between us. “I was happy to hear that you didn't touch another gal. Happy that no other girl has made you cum.”

The way he leaned against the window, his jeans tight against his spread out legs, his shirt tight in all the right places. He looked like a God.

“You got a dirty mouth.” he mumbled out.

My head tilted to the side with dumb little smirk. “Im sorry what’d you say?”

His hand came up to my face, his warm thumb against my bottom lip. “I said that you got a dirty mouth.”

His eyes were eyeing my lips, watching his thumb rub against my lips as my eyes watched him.

“You gonna shut me up? Huh Robby?” I whispered out before he put his thumb between my lips, dragging on the edge of my teeth.

“Oh I’m gonna shut you up hun.” He grumbled out. My lips wrapped around his thumb, sucking on it and tongue moving around.

His tongue rolled against the inner part of his cheek, chuckling at my action.

He removed his thumb from my mouth, rubbing my saliva on my lips and cheek as he used his other hand to lower me down to my knees. I looked up at him with big eyes, my bottom lip caught in my teeth, and my hand palming him through his jeans.

His groans were heaven. The way he reacted even though there’s two layers between my hand and his cock.

His hips bucked into my hand, telling me to get a move one. Both of my hands fumbled with his belt, the big buckle making it harder so he had to take over as my hands sat on the back of his knees.

Once his jeans hit the floor, my hands immediately reached up to the elastic waistband of his boxers that showed his prominent bulge. I brought my lips down to his adonis belt, leaving a wet peck as I pulled down the cloth. His cock grazed my cheek as it slapped against his stomach.

I whimpered at the sight of his dick. Red pulsing tip with the pearls of pre-cum on the tip. The thick vein on the bottom and just the right amount of little hairs.

I was hungry for his cock. I wanted to taste him. I was eager.

My hand wrapped around the base and the tip passed my lips. My tongue getting a taste of him which made me hum, sending vibrations up his body.

“Lookin so pretty, doll.” he said with a little fight to his voice, trying not to be so loud.

I took him further into my mouth, my tongue trailing the thick vein as his tip hit the back of my throat. I gagged around him which made his moan out.

The noises he made were fuel.

“F-fuck! Doing s-so good for me!” he praised as my hand and mouth worked together to have him reach the edge.

His hands were holding my hair, trying his best to not push my head down. I didn't want that.

I brought my hand to his on the back of my head, showing him that he can take control. He understood and immediately started pushing my face into his pelvis as his hips thrusted to my lips.

I was a gagging mess with tears staining my cheeks and my saliva running down my chin and neck.

I can tell he was close by his contorting face and the stutter of his lips.

I hallowed my cheeks and sucked on him, my hand cupping his balls. Giving a little pressure as he thrusted into my throat.

“Im gonna cum! Fuck!” he held my face against him, his cock fully down my throat as I was gagging and breathing through my nose.

He shot his cum down my throat, rubbing my scalp with his fingers.

He pulled out of my mouth, my lips sucking his harder and following him trying to get more from him. Trying to milk him but he kept hissing from how sensitive he was.

His cock was soft in front of my face. He looked down at me with his hair sticking to his forehead as his chest fell and rose. His smirk still plastered on his face.

I opened my mouth to show him that I swallowed all of his cum. He threw his head back with a groan, his cock getting hard again from my action.

He looked back down at me, his hands cradled my jaw as he pulled me up onto my feet. His lips attacked mine, tasting himself on my lips and tongue.

My hand reached his dick again, stroking him and paying attention to the tip. He was moaning into the kiss.

“Fuck baby!” he pulled my hand away from him. “Im too sensitive right now.”

We both chuckled as we kissed again, tucking him back into his boxers.

“Next time I got you.” he mumbled into my lips.

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visceravalentines · 2 years ago

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Peaches & Strawberries

Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

5.1k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Smut & fluff, age gap, dad's best friend, semi-public sex, Daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk & praise, soft orgasm denial, very mild alcohol use by Bo, reader is referred to as darlin', baby girl, pretty, and wears a skirt

Bo takes you to the farmer's market and definitely behaves the whole time.

Your weekends at Bo’s house became a regular occurrence. You made up all kinds of excuses for your parents – some friends from school were visiting the area, you heard about a cool museum exhibit a couple towns over, you were going camping. Finally your mother confronted you after a convoluted story about a rodeo, a car show, and a movie premiere all apparently taking place in one weekend.

“Sweetheart, did you meet someone?”

You felt your face heat up. “I mean…yeah, I did.”

“Well that’s wonderful! You can just tell us, you know, you’re an adult.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.”

“Where did you two meet, at work?”

“Yes, actually. He…came in the shop a few times.” He certainly had. More than a few. And he wasn’t the only one.

“Well when do we get to meet him?”

“Um, I don’t know. Probably not for a while. He’s…shy? And I don’t want to…freak him out.”

“I get it, honey, you don’t want him to think it’s too serious too soon.”

You had spent the majority of your waking hours and a significant portion of the sleeping ones with him for the past month. “Exactly. Nothing serious.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready, we’d love to meet him!”

“I’m sure you’ll think he’s…really something.”

She smiled. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, sweetheart.”

Bo choked on his coffee as you recounted this exchange. “She did not say that,” he coughed.

“She absolutely did, I was horrified,” you said.

“You’re makin’ things up to impress me.”

“I would never do that.”

“Mmm, you ‘member that time you said you knew what a catalytic converter was?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“And what did you bring me?”

“I don’t even know what it was.”

“Y’see my point.”

He kissed you, and you kissed him back. “You taste like coffee.”

“Gimme ten minutes and I’ll taste like you, baby girl.”

That smirk made you weak in the knees. “I knew there was a reason I put up with you.”

“You got some kinda attitude today, someone oughta fuck that outta you.”

“Are you offering?”

Bo smiled. “Beggin’ on bended knee, darlin’.”

“You’re gonna have to wait until we get back from the farmer’s market, I’m afraid.”

“With you dressed like this?” He gestured to your short, flouncy skirt. “You’re gonna get me kicked outta the farmer’s market.”

You gave him a look. “You better behave yourself.”

He held out a hand. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Bo. I’ve never behaved a day in my life. ‘Specially not with you around showin’ all that skin.”

You laughed and hooked your fingers in his belt loops. “Repeat after me. We are not fucking at the farmer’s market.”

“You’re gonna have to forgive me, I’m hard o’ hearing. Sounded like you said we are not fucking at the farmer’s market.”

“That is what I said.”

“Well then why are we even goin’.”

“Because it’s fun and we need fruit.”

He rolled his eyes, smiling, and kissed your forehead. “I have never seen you eat a fruit in my life.”

“Bo, I want to go!”

“We’re goin’! Your wish is my command, baby girl.”

Together you climbed in his truck and drove thirty minutes to the next town over, where your faces were not immediately recognizable. Bo pushed your skirt up to rest his hand in its customary place on your thigh. The sky was clear and the air was still cool and he looked so damn good in a trucker hat and sneakers. You felt such immense contentment ballooning in your chest it was almost too much to handle.

He was murmuring along with the song on the radio, fingers tapping in time on your leg. He looked over and caught you smiling at him. “Y’like what you see, darlin’?”

“Sure do.” You rubbed his thigh.

He scowled. “If I gotta be on my best behavior so do you.”

“I’m always on my best behavior.”

“Oho no you ain’t, you little liar.”

“I am!”

“No no no, you’re a goddamn temptress with that body.”

“I am not!”

“Battin’ those eyes, switchin’ them hips.”

“I do not do that.”

“Flirtin’ with customers, makin’ me jealous.”

You squeezed his knee. “I make you jealous?”

“Unbearably, darlin’.”

You leaned against his shoulder, looked up at him through your lashes, eased your hand up his inner thigh. “C’mon, Bo, you don’t have to be jealous.”

“Quiiit.” He took your wrist and placed it back in your lap. “I will pull this truck over right now.”

“And do what?”

He smirked. “You know what, baby.”

You grinned. “Okay, okay.” You leaned back in your own seat. “I’ll be good.”

He winked at you. “You sure will.”

This particular farmer’s market was hosted by a historical farm that now operated a petting zoo and a community garden. The property boasted a barn, a stable, and fields turned to grassy picnic space. The market today was busy, seething with couples, children, dogs.

Bo took your hand and led you down the first row of stands. You wandered all the way through every aisle once to get a feel for the various offerings before looping back to the beginning. People sold produce of all sorts, other foodstuffs like jam and honey and salsa, and a wide variety of non-edible wares including pottery, jewelry, clothing, and art.

Bo rested his hands on your hips from behind as you surveyed the happy chaos. “Alright, baby girl, what d’you want?”

“Peaches, strawberries, probably salsa, maybe bread.”

“How ‘bout you get peaches while I grab us lemonade from over there?” He gestured with his head.

“That sounds good. Don’t get lost, old man.”

“Don’t talk to any strangers, y’damn child,” he muttered, pinching your ass before he walked off.

The line for peaches was longer than it had any right to be. You scuffed your sneaker against the pavement, checked your shoulders for the early signs of sunburn.

“Hey, excuse me,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find a man about your age, wearing reflective sunglasses and chewing gum with his mouth open. He could’ve been cute, but it was hard to tell. “This is the line for peaches, right?” You nodded politely. “Cool. You’re really pretty, by the way.”

You did the universal half-turn away from him that meant you were done interacting. “Thank you.”

Sunglasses had apparently never heard of this turn. “You got a boyfriend?”

You made a herculean effort to avoid rolling your eyes. “Yes.”

“Oh. Could I get your number though?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you here by yourself?”

You caught a glimpse of Bo approaching with a look on his face like he hadn’t decided yet whether he was going to assault this kid verbally or physically or both. “No, I’m with him.” You gestured with your head.

Sunglasses looked at Bo, then back at you. “Is that your dad?”

You barely bit back your laughter. The opportunity was too good to pass up. “Yeah, definitely.” You smiled at Bo as he sidled up next to you. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey baby.” Unfazed, he bent and kissed you, open-mouthed, all tongue. Sunglasses choked on his gum.

Bo pulled away from you to address your admirer. His arm was around your waist, immovable, possessive. There was a smirk on his face but his eyes were steel. “Y’stand there any longer and I’m gonna have to charge you admission.” His tone was icy. “Pick your jaw up and walk away.”

Sunglasses did just that, couldn’t put distance between him and you fast enough. Bo watched him go with barely disguised contempt. When he shifted his attention back to you, his expression softened immediately. He shook his head in mock disbelief. “I leave you alone for five fuckin’ minutes.”

You gazed up at him with admiration. “You scared the shit out of him.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“He talked to me.”

“‘S about to be the last mistake he ever makes.” His tone was light, didn’t match the hard set of his jaw.

“I’m okay, Bo, really.”

He kissed your forehead. “I’ve told you before, anyone gives you trouble, darlin’, I’ll make sure they get what’s comin’ to ‘em.”

You smiled, gave him a squeeze. “I believe it, baby.”

“Oh no, it’s Daddy now.” He handed you your lemonade. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

You faced forward in the line, chewing your lip. “We are not fucking at the farmer’s market,” you said under your breath.

Bo chuckled, put his hand on your lower back, his pinkie creeping below the waistband of your skirt. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, baby girl. Your lips on that straw are givin’ me other ideas.”

You finally reached the start of the line for peaches without further incident. Bo, a true Southern gentleman, gladly agreed to hold the bag for you.

Together you made your way to the rest of the stands you wanted to hit, managing to get sidetracked only by a booth with fancy soap. This proved to be a distraction in more ways than one when Bo whispered in your ear something about you, him, and a bath while you were in the process of paying the lady behind the table.

“Repeat after me,” you hissed under your breath as you walked away from the booth. “We are – “

“Not fuckin’ at the farmer’s market, I know. I was clearly talkin’ about afterwards. If you can’t keep your head right that ain’t my problem.”

Never had you wanted to kiss and slap someone at the same time.

At the strawberry stand, they gave you a little container of freshly whipped cream to go with the basket of berries. You were delighted and practically dragged Bo to an open space in the field by the barn. A big tree cast shade over couples and families picnicking in the heat.

He sat cross-legged on the grass and you sprawled with your head in his lap. You held the cream and he dipped strawberries, eating every other one himself and feeding the rest to you with the utmost delicacy.

“You’re too much, you know,” you said, gazing up at him, absolutely infatuated.

“Nah,” he said around a strawberry. “Sometimes things are just this good, darlin’. Just let ‘em be.”

The light came through the leaves in dapples like confetti. The grass was slightly sticky in the heat. The strawberries were cold and so was the cream and if you got to create your own heaven, this would almost certainly be a part of it.

You ran your finger around the inside of the container when it was nearly empty and made eye contact with him as you sucked off the cream. Bo looked down at you with the poker face he pulled off so well. “You ready to go?” you asked him sweetly.

“No,” he said. “I wanna look around a little bit. Maybe see what’s inside that barn.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think is going to be inside the barn?”

“Well darlin’, I just don’t know. Why don’t you come with me and we can find out together?”

The grass left crosshatch lines imprinted all over your arms and legs when you sat up. “I know what’s not in that barn.”

“I don’t think you know anythin’ until you’ve seen for yourself.”

The two of you climbed to your feet, dusting yourselves off, and with your bag in one hand and your hand in the other, Bo led you down the path to the barn door. Chickens bobbed and wandered aimlessly in front of the door. “‘Scuse us, ladies,” Bo addressed them as you picked your way through.

The barn was extremely well kept, with a row of pens on the righthand side housing a small donkey and a few sheep. The left side was split between an enclosed storage room with a loft high above it and a big open space with hay bales stacked three and four high. Two families with a few small children were preoccupied with the sheep when you walked in. It smelled like fresh hay and animal sweat, a sweet, earthy, not unpleasant smell.

You nodded at the parents of the babbling children, followed Bo past the animals to the back of the barn. A ladder led up to the hayloft. It was hung with a bright yellow chain and a sign saying “Do Not Climb.” Bo set your bag behind a hay bale, stood with his hands in his pockets and an eye on the families nearby, the picture of nonchalance.

“Bo,” you said warily.

“Yes dear.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just enjoyin’ the ambiance.” He gazed up the ladder. “What d’you think is up there?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Hmm.” The kids scattered out of the barn, shrieking, their parents ten steps behind. Bo reached behind you, grabbed your ass. “Go ahead and scootch up that ladder, let’s find out.”

“Bo!”

“Go on, baby girl.”

“The sign says we can’t.”

“Sure does.”

He pushed you gently to the base of the ladder. You stepped over the chain and started up the first few rungs.

“Damn, what a view.”

You twisted to look over your shoulder. He was staring up under your skirt with a lascivious grin on his face.

“You’re the devil.”

“Don’t I know it.”

You scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder and into the loft. It was filled with old farming equipment, dusty tools and bags of feed. Half a dozen hay bales were stacked on one end. Your footsteps echoed off the rafters as you moved away from the ladder.

Bo pulled himself up behind you. “See, there’s all kinds o’ stuff up here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure this shovel is exactly what you were hoping for.”

“I was hopin’ for a bed, actually. Knew it was a long shot.” He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, kissed your ear. “Y’know, this ain’t technically part o’ the farmer’s market.”

You tried to suppress a smile. “And what does that mean?”

“I think it means I’m gonna have my way with you right over there.” He inclined his head towards the hay bales. “Y’got any objections to that, baby girl?”

You tilted your head to one side, allowing him to kiss your neck. “We’re gonna have to be so quiet.”

“We’ve established you’re good at that.” He ran his hand up your ribs, over your breasts. His other hand fussed at your skirt. “Real well-behaved sometimes for such a naughty lil thing.”

“One of us has to be.”

He snickered and caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Makes it more fun to dirty you up, angel.”

You arched your back, pressed your ass against him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s a barn, Bo.”

“I’d fuck you anywhere. Lemme make things a little more comfortable, how ‘bout that?” He let go of you, took off his hat, stripped off his shirt and draped it over a hay bale, then put his hat back on.

You couldn’t help but grin at the way he looked at you for approval. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Quit flatterin’ me, c’mere.”

He sat on the hay, pulled you in to straddle his lap. His kiss was hungry and tasted like strawberries. You splayed your hands on his bare skin, combing your fingers through his chest hair. He put his hands on your thighs, slid them greedily up to the hem of your skirt, underneath it, up to your hips, around to your ass. You pressed yourself against him, exploring his mouth with your tongue.

“Can’t believe you were gonna make me wait for this til we got all the way home,” he murmured. “Would be downright cruel, darlin’.”

“Not all the way home,” you said breathlessly. “Just down the road a little.”

He laughed, kissed you, nipped at your lip. “Minx.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. “Get these off.”

You tugged on his belt loops. “Get these off.”

“Don’t you boss me around. That ain’t no way to speak to Daddy.”

Your face heated up. “That does not need to catch on.”

“It’s caught, baby girl, now do as I say.”

You slid off him, worked your panties down your legs and stepped gingerly out of them. Simultaneously he undid his fly and adjusted his jeans to free his erection. You all but threw yourself back into his arms.

He supported your weight with his hands beneath your thighs as you started to grind against him. The way his lashes fluttered in response was unbearable, beautiful. He let out a quiet groan. The heat of him between your lips set you on fire.

“God, Bo, you can’t feel this good.”

He shook his head. “Darlin’, you can’t be sayin’ sweet things to me already or I’m gonna make a damn mess of this skirt.”

You bit your lips, smiling, and lolled your head back, digging your nails into his shoulders for extra leverage as you rocked back and forth. Bo pulled your top off over your head and kissed your breasts one at a time with something like reverence.

“You look mighty fine up there,” he said in a low voice.

You eased his hat off his head, put it on. “How ‘bout now?”

“Fuck. Even better.” He kissed the hollow of your throat, your collarbones, down the center of your chest. His cock was slick with precum and your arousal and you angled your hips to press him into your entrance.

“Ah-ah, not so fast, angel.” He pushed you back. “You gotta want it.”

You frowned down at him. “I do want it.”

He pinched his tongue between his teeth, smiled slyly. “Then ask nicely.”

You resumed sliding against him. “Please, can I have you inside me?”

“‘M not convinced, try again.”

“Please let me ride you, Bo.”

“Try again, darlin’.”

The sound of conversation below you made your stomach flip. You threw a glance over your shoulder and Bo took your chin, brought your gaze back to him.

“‘Scuse me, we were in the middle of somethin’,” he whispered.

“What if we get caught?”

“We ain’t gonna get caught.” He opened his knees, spreading your legs wider, and pressed himself against you. “Now ask me one more time.”

You met his pretty eyes. “Please, sir, will you fuck me?”

He pulled you onto his cock in answer, pushing halfway into you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a loud squeak of surprise. You clapped a hand over your mouth.

Bo shushed you, laughing quietly. “That’s more like it.”

He let you sink all the way onto him. You moaned softly under your breath and rested your chin on his shoulder. He drew you close, stretching you pleasantly around him. You wrapped him in your arms, hyperfocused on the quiver of him inside you, the involuntary squeezing of your walls.

He groaned in your ear, a deep, throaty sound that made goosebumps erupt down your back. You felt his tongue on your skin, tasting the sunshine salt of your sweat. ”Not gonna fuck you yet,” he murmured. “Just wanna sit with you a while.”

“Bo,” you whimpered. He hmmed in response and grazed your neck with his teeth. His mouth moved down your shoulder, across your chest, worshipping you with lips, tongue, and teeth. You ached for friction, felt so full and yet wound so tightly with need. Cautiously you wiggled your hips, just once, and were rewarded with a jolt of pleasure to your nerve endings and the dig of his fingers in your flesh, a reprimand.

“Please, Bo.” You arched against him and he acquiesced, began to bounce you up and down on his cock, so slowly, the tendons in his wrists jumping with the intensity he was holding back. You choked off a moan, closed your eyes tight, forgot about everything in the world except for the way he slid so nicely in and out of you. Your toes curled. You held onto his shoulders for dear life, let out a shaky sigh, a soft whine.

“Fuck, baby girl.” His whisper was hoarse. “Y’know what you’re doin’ to me?”

It was hot outside, hot up in the loft, not too hot to want him on top of you, all over you, and like he could read your mind, he lifted you off his lap, laid you down on the hay, straddled your hips and thrust himself back into you even deeper than before. No sooner had your mouth fallen open to release an involuntary cry when he suppressed it with his big, rough hand.

“Easy, darlin’, be good.” You moaned into his palm. “I know, I know.” He was hitting some spot deep inside you that made your eyes roll back, caused you to clench around him like you couldn’t bear to let him go for even a second. He took his hand off your mouth. “Y’like it like this?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was a frantic, tremulous whisper.

The rhythm of his hips was intoxicating. “I like you like this,” he breathed in your ear. “So pretty, all worked up. All mine.” You wrapped your legs around him, raked your nails down his back, bit your lip hard trying to hold it all in.

You could tell he was close as his thrusts became rougher. He nipped at your earlobe, hand squeezing your breast. “Call me Daddy, baby.”

Your whole abdomen snapped taut. “Daddy,” you gasped.

He growled, ramped up his pace. The friction between you was magnetic, a force. “You want it, darlin’?”

“Yes, please Daddy, please, god - “

He let out a gruff moan when he hit his peak, pushed his face against your cheek. You kissed him full on the mouth, lustful and needy, as he arched above you, muffling your desperate sounds on his lips as you came right behind him, clenching around his cock, pulling a ragged, overwhelmed gasp out of him.

The rafters came gradually back into focus up above as together you rode the waves of your ecstasy. Bo came down first, ran his thumb over your cheekbone, the corner of your jaw, watched the glaze over your eyes fade. The softest of smiles played on his lips.

“Anythin’ you want, darlin’, it’s yours. Move heaven ‘n earth if y’asked me to.”

You kissed him, kissed the scar on his chin. “How ‘bout you take me home and we get takeout on the way and then see about that bath?”

“Got a brain on ya too, huh?”

“Just a little bit left.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to fix that.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Get your clothes on, dammit, this is a public place.”

You dressed quickly and quietly. Bo’s shirt was cumstained and unwearable, so you provided him with a bonus from the peach vendor: a peach-colored t-shirt with “I eat 🍑” emblazoned on the front. It was slightly too small for his broad shoulders, the soft fabric tight across his chest, but he had no complaints.

It took forever for the crowd in the barn to wander out. You passed the time leaned against a mountain of bags of animal feed, kissing and giggling quietly like teenagers under the bleachers. Bo let you keep his hat on. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you. It rocked your world every time.

At long last the barn was empty and he let you climb down first. From the ground you looked up at the way his jeans hugged his ass.

“Damn. What a view,” you said with a grin.

Bo looked over his shoulder at you and smirked. “You’re lucky I like that mouth.”

He drove home holding your hand, made a quick stop at a Chinese restaurant you both loved. Together you ate on his couch and struggled through the worst game of chess that has ever been played.

While you put away the spoils of the farmer’s market, Bo ran a bath to wash off the sweat and dust of the day. The guest bathroom in the basement boasted a large jetted tub big enough for two. When you wandered downstairs, Bo was already in the water, reclining with his eyes closed and a glass of whiskey in hand. Almost every surface in the room was covered in flickering candles.

He opened his eyes and watched you undress wearing an expression of absolute serenity. You stepped into the water, settled in between his legs, laid your head back on his shoulder. When he wrapped his arms around you, you put your hands on his wrists and rubbed your thumb gently over his scars.

“Thanks for taking me out today. I had a good time.”

“Was a pleasure, darlin’.”

You gazed around the bathroom. “Where did you get all these candles?”

“Vince made ‘em.”

“He makes candles too? All of these?”

“Mmhm.”

“When do I get to meet him?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his tone was guarded. “I dunno, baby girl. He don’t come around too often.”

You laced your fingers through his. “Did something happen?”

“Since when’d you get so nosy?”

“Sorry, I just…you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to talk about it. I just want to know about you.”

“‘S just a sensitive subject, but it’s alright, I’ll tell you about it. We ran a family business together back in Louisiana, all three of us. Inherited it from our parents when they died. Unfortunately, after a while, we stopped seein’ eye-to-eye on the direction to take things. It took a lot outta us, became our whole lives.

“Les and I were in favor of packin’ it in, movin’ on. Vin didn’t want to. He was outvoted. The whole operation meant a lot to him – meant a lot to all of us, but him especially – and he resented us for shuttin’ it down. Felt like we were abandonin’ him.” There was a strain to his voice. “We weren’t, least we weren’t tryin’ to, but…at some point you gotta live your own life the way you wanna live it. He had to accept it was time to let it go, no matter how much it hurt.”

“And you don’t talk anymore?”

“He sends me stuff, his art. All those sketches. The candles. But no. I ain’t seen his face for some years, except in the mirror.”

He sounded wistful, like he was trying to resign himself to the situation but couldn’t quite manage it. You squeezed his hands, nuzzled into his neck. You had a thousand more questions but didn’t want to hear him answer them in that hollow voice. “I’m sorry. It sounds like you were really close.”

“Close as you can be to another person, matter o’ fact. We were born conjoined.”

This shocked you. “Really?”

“Mmhm. Separated a few months after birth. Inseparable after that.” He traced shapes on your skin absently. “There ain’t words for losin’ somethin’ like that.”

No wonder he sounded gutted. You felt guilty for not knowing, guilty for asking, guilty there was nothing you could do to take away that hurt. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

His hand stilled and he gave you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry yourself none. I don’t mind talkin’ to you about him. I hope you get to meet him someday. I always kinda thought he was my better half.”

“Better than you?”

“Oh yes, darlin’.” He kissed the back of your head. “I ain’t nothin’ special.”

“Well that’s not true.” You traced the back of his fingers. “What about Lester? Do you see him ever?”

“Les and I meet up a couple times a year. He’s up north, works for the forest service. He has a hunting cabin I stay at sometimes. Maybe I’ll take you up there.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too, baby girl.” He chuckled softly. “You’ll like Lester. He’s weird.”

“Weirder than you?”

“You can’t imagine.”

His hand dipped beneath the water, fingertips trailing over your stomach, your thighs. Your muscles twitched with practiced anticipation when he brushed your clit. “Greedy, darlin’,” he murmured in your ear. “Can’t get enough o’ me, huh?”

“Never.”

“Good.”

He touched you casually, with practiced restraint, circling your clit and slipping his digits inside you with no sense of urgency.

In a matter of minutes you were putty in his hands. Each time you were close he withdrew, stroked your legs, kissed your neck, cupped his hand over your sex and held it there, warm and possessive. No amount of begging, pleading, or use of nicknames got you anywhere. Every time he touched you again it brought a wave of bitter relief but no satisfaction. He sipped his drink and watched you squirm.

You were all but weeping when he finally let you cum on his fingers, the exhilaration when he didn’t stop matched only by the euphoria when you hit your release at last. The candlelight was hazy, the water cooling, your entire body hot and tingling. Bo swallowed his last mouthful of whiskey and you could taste it on his tongue.

“Y’got any brains left?” You shook your head, dumbfounded. “Perfect. Let’s get you to bed, baby girl.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drained the tub, blew out the candles, and led you up to his bedroom.

“I know you always bring your own stuff, but I picked you up a few things.”

In his bathroom you found a toothbrush and toiletries, all the brands you preferred, neatly organized in the cupboards and drawers. Your heart nearly tumbled out of your chest.

“I cleared out half the dresser too, just so y’know,” he called from the next room. “Left side’s yours if y’want it.”

You thought you might just melt onto the floor. You padded back into the bedroom where he was pulling on a pair of pajama pants. He furrowed his brow when he caught you staring at him. “What?”

“You…remembered the things I like. Bo…that’s so thoughtful.”

To your surprise and delight, he flushed red. “It ain’t hard,” he said. “Thought it would make you comfortable.”

“It does.” Your smile was radiant. “And you made space for my clothes, too?”

He put his hands on his hips. “I’m not proposin’ or nothin’, just sick o’ you leavin’ your shit all over my house every weekend.”

“Sure.” You beamed at him. “Thank you so much.”

Bo huffed. “You’re welcome I guess. Would y’get in bed already? It’s so damn late.”

You settled in, pulled him close, hitched your leg over his hip. He rested his chin on your head and you felt him relax as he loosed a sigh. The sound of his heartbeat was low and comforting, your body blissed out and your mind at ease.

“I’m all yours, Bo,” you said into his chest.

“Don’t you forget it.”

“And you’re mine.”

His lips found yours in the darkness and he kissed you sweetly.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taglist at the bottom bc this is a monster post already: @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon, @cypressnmarigolds, @slasherlouvre , @g0thl3zz, @frankiethedarkangel . If you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #dilf bo sinclair #my writing

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ussgallifrey · 2 years ago

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Dagger Squad Headcanons | Part 4

MICKEY "FANBOY" GARCIA

The elusive Florida man.

Doesn't actually get the whole Star Wars vs. Star Trek feud, he's just here vibing and loving them both.

Okay, he gets it - just look at the last three movies of the trilogy. And why did George Lucas have to go in and digitally re-alter everything? It was fine the way it was. Seriously, they ruined Jabba when they CGIed him. And another thing...

But also Undiscovered Country and the Next Generation movies are a mess. And he could probably go on and on about the lack of respect for the first Star Trek movie (1979).

Bro. But Chris Pine's eyes in the 2009 movie though...

He has a love/hate relationship with Jar Jar Binks as a character.

Definitely has a Yoda tattoo somewhere on his upper body, probably on the back of his shoulder.

Actually, definitely has the most tattoos out of the squad. Albeit most of them are relatively small, basic black outline images.

Some include: a mini millennium falcon on his inner forearm, the Starfleet insignia on his chest, an X-wing on his calf, and a small chubby dinosaur eating a cookie on his upper arm.

There are at least six old grainy videos online of him and a friend having different lightsaber battles in the middle of a Walmart parking lot, circa 2007.

One of these days he will buy the Lego Millennium Falcon and sit down and have time to put it together (no he won't, he doesn't have the patience for all those stupid little pieces).

He dreams of the day he can walk around SDCC. He's either never had the money for a ticket or he's been deployed during the con. One day, damnit. One day he will walk amongst the sweaty crowds of cosplayers and be in awe.

An amateur soccer star before he enlisted. Is still fast on his feet and can do trick kicks with a ball if you egg him on.

Turns into the touchy-feely goofy time drunk when he's downed more than 13 drinks. He can hold his liquor exceptionally well, just don't let him near a microphone.

Did somebody mention shots?

He listens to a lot of Bad Bunny. But don't be surprised to find New Kids on the Block, Britney Spears, Weird Al, or Megan Thee Stallion on his rotation too.

Had a stuffed Mickey Mouse plush when he was a baby that he dragged around everywhere as a kid. That thing came out of the 90s with one eye and an arm that was barely holding on by the stitching, but he loved it.

The Playstation is where it's at. Tony Hawk: Pro Skater consumed his life for two years straight. And don't you dare interrupt him when he's playing Final Fantasy.

Had a pet rat growing up that he named Artoo.

Has one older brother and one younger brother. Also, a ton of cousins who lived within the same neighborhood that he was always hanging out with.

Everything is a drum - except the weapon control buttons. Hardcore band kid.

He did not give a damn about concert season, he lived for marching band. Hates the bells and xylophone with a passion - his heart is with the snare drum.

Made his way up to center snare when he was in senior year.

Absolute menace during football games when the drumlines would go head-to-head with each other.

Twirls things constantly between his fingers thanks to his eight years of drumming.

If he's not on top of his grooming schedule, his hair will absolutely explode into natural wavy curls. It's why he's gotta maintain the buzz cut as hard as he does.

Has an affinity for hats. His closet mostly consists of baseball and trucker hats in pristine condition.

Still eats like a teenage boy, but with the occasional bout of tummy problems that has him rushing for the antacids.

Absolutely loves cinnamon gum.

There is a giant green plush dinosaur on his bed at this exact moment. His name is Grogu.

˚ ✧ more top gun headcanons ✧ ˚

#top gun headcanons #top gun maverick headcanons #dagger squad headcanons #mickey fanboy garcia #top gun fan fic #my fic

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spooky-fm · 2 years ago

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Happy Holidays to those who celebrate things around this time! Have this short update as a little gift from me :)

Had some fun with the first DC characters meeting our delivery ghost for the first time.

Part 4.

Jason parked his motorcycle near the first fast food place that didn't seem like it served kale and avocado on toast for the price of a week's worth of groceries. He had been following a lead on a trafficking ring for over twelve hours and needed a good break. The trail was cold enough that a slower pace wouldn't hurt the investigation, and he was hungry enough to eat his own weight in greasy fast food.

A small pizza restaurant winked at him with a flickering neon sign. The inside of Antonio's looked like any of hundred's of roadside diners Jason had eaten at. Out of habit he made a note of all people in the dining area. An older man was standing behind a counter, taking an order on a wired landline phone; a teenager wearing a baseball hat with the restaurant name was leaning against the counter on the other side and reading something on a smartphone; a truck driver was eating the last slice of his pizza and watching some soccer game on an ancient TV set on the wall. The threat accessment took him a second, another second to take stock of the possible exits, and he was standing in front of the old man, who had just finished wirintg down an address and shouting the order to the kitchen.

"Welcome to Antonio's, what can I get for you?"

"Whatever has the most meat on it, biggest size you make. Coffee," - Jason grunted.

He paid and took a seat at the table that had a good view of the whole room and the main entry points. Mentally going over the facts of his latest investigation, he absently tracked the people in the restaurant. Old man went to the kitchen. Old man came back with boxes. Old man gave them to the kid. Kid grabbed pizzas and an address slip and left. A woman came inside, late thirties, early fourties. Ordered pizza, sat down. Trucker finished his food and went to order more for the road. Good sign, pizza probably not complete shit.

Finally, his food was ready. Jason bit into a slice and his eyes widened in surprise. That was the best damn pie he's had in a long time! He finished the whole thing before the delivery kid came back. Must have been someone very close to the pizza place itself to take less than fifteen minutes to get there and back, he mused to himself.

As if sensing that he was being observed, the teenager looked at Jason with a pair of startingly bright blue eyes. Something made Jason tense up on istinct when he met the teenager's gaze. He felt the Pit rumble in agitation and quickly looked away, taking a deep breath to calm himself. I need to take a goddamn break before I start jumping at the throats of every kid looking like a future Bruce Wayne adoptee. Although he had to admit that aside from the hair and eyes combo, this one did not particularly resemble any of his siblings.

Throwing the incident out of his head and marking the retaurant location on his map app with a 'favourites' pin, he went back to his bike, resuming the chase for clues. After this case, he was going to sleep for at least 16 hours straight.

"Hey, kid, were you serious about doing super fast deliveries more often?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"You've been looking bored recently, so I jotted down a rought plan. Take a look at this, if you are ok with it."

"This looks cool. I'm in!"

Tim Wayne-Drake was in his favourite coffee shop to get a small pick-me-up cup with seven extra espresso shots that should get him through the afternoon. He was on comms duty that day and was hoping to make some progress in the cases he had been personally investigating. While waiting for his order to be called, he absently scanned the flyers and posters that the coffee shop staff put up on their walls every couple of weeks.

One particular poster grabbed his attention.

~~~

"Antonio's has the best authentic Italian-American pizza! Visit us at ...

Order by phone or on our app ...

10 minute delivery guaranteed or money back! The timer starts when your order leaves the oven!"

~~~

The brightly colored paper had a QR code for the app and several very appetizing pictures of obviously real pizzas. He hummed in approval -- he had always hated the fake pictures of not-food used for ads that looked nothing like the actual product. The express delivery guarantee is new. Gotham is not very famous for safe and reliable travel routes. They probably have a small radius for this feature. It seemed that he was not too far away from the pizzerias location, if they got their poster up in the coffee shop. Tim made a mental note to test the range and try the pizzas for himself.

His coffee cup was still standing in the line of empty cups waiting for the barista to fill them with drinks, so he occupied himself by downloading the Antonio's app on his phone. He punched in the addresses of the coffee shop, the Wayne mansion, and the Wayne tower. All of them came up as 'deliverable'. Tim raised his eyebrows. Did the restaurant have several kitchen locations? He put that on his mental 'to investigate' list but ranked it relatively low in priority.

His name was called then, and he headed back to the nearby Zeta-Tube sipping on the sacred liquid. As he walked, he scrolled through the pizzeria's menu and selected several options. Alfred was on his mandatory vacation for a week, and Tim did not feel like preparing a meal.

'You have selected express delivery. Please confirm your address and payment method'.

'Your order is in the oven. You can track your progress in the App!'

Just as he exited the Zeta-Tube in the Batcave, another notification came in.

'Your order is ready! Starting the Express Delivery Timer'

Tim curiously tracked the numbers counting down on the screen. There was no way they could arrive at the manor fast enough, even if the pizzeria was close by. He waited near the entrance doors anyway.

With 2:56.14 left, the timer stopped counting, and the doorbell rang. Tim startled, almost dropping the phone in surprise. That was the doorbell, not the intercom by the gates. His suspicions rising higher, he opened the doors, ready to engage with hostiles.

A teenager was standing at the door, wearing jeans and a blue shirt with a NASA logo on it. The baseball cap had Antonio's stitched onto it, marking him as the delivery driver (runner?) for the pizzeria. That, and the pizza boxes he was holding in his hands.

Tim stared.

The teenager smiled the fakest customer service smile Tim had ever seen and ran through a clearly practiced spiel.

"Hello, thank you for ordering pizza with Antonio's! I have a delivery here for Time Drake-Wayne. Your delivery was completed in 7 minutes and 5 seconds. Please confirm the delivery time in the app."

Tim glanced down at the phone screen. The timer was covered by a prompt window with the words 'Your order was delivered! Thank you for eating with Antonio's! Please confirm order delivery' and two buttons 'Confirm' and 'Report a problem' underneath. He clicked 'Confirm' and looked back at the delivery person. The guy was holding the pizza boxes towards him with the same fixed smile on his face. Were his eyes twinkling?

The dead-eyed expression was back, the fake smile never leaving the teenager's face, as he cheerfully thanked Tim for ordering with the pizzeria and turned around towards the driveway.

"Wait!"

The delivery person turned back, the unnerving smile still on his face.

"Is there a problem, sir?" - He asked in a polite tone.

"No, no problem with the order, just a question. But how did you get through the gate? And so fast?" - His radar for suspicious activity was definintely picking up something from this guy.

"Sorry, sir, I am not allowed to disclose trade secrets, but your gate was open, so I just walked up to the doors," - he answered with a bored expression. "I figured you were expecting the delivery and opened the gates for me."

Tim frowned at the answer. The gate was never open, even if they expected people, unless there was a big official party. The alarm bells in his head were ringing louder and louder.

He must have been silent for too long, because the teenager spoke again.

"Unless you want to tip, sir, I will be on my way. There are other orders to deliver."

That was a chance to keep him there a bit longer.

"Wait, yes, of course. I'm sorry, I forgot the tip! Completely slipped my mind."

He was rewarded with a flat stare and slightly raised eyebrows, but the delivery person stayed put, which was a win in Tim's books.

He fished out his wallet from the bag that was still slung over his shoulder and casually asked for the other's name.

He was met with another spark of laughter in the blue eyes that disappeared just as quickly as the first one"

"I'm afraid I am not comfortable disclosing personal information, sir," - He accepted the 20$ bill from Tim. "Have a good day and enjoy your pizza!"

Tim couldn't come up with another stalling tactic so he just muttered a 'thank you' and watched the teenager's retreating back as he exited the gate and disappeared around the corner.

He bumped the priority of the case up on his list.

At least the pizzas were delicious.

Next up: Danny thinks. It turns out to be harder thann he expected.

Credit for the ghostly dividers to @racingairplanes. Thank you!

Taglist 🥰: @i-am-the-asian-persuasion, @spoopyspoony, @someonebored0100, @justwannabecat, @markus209, @starscreamlover, @chaoticmistake, @ectoplasm024, @theboisarehere342, @theamazingfox, @midnightenigma, @kyrianclawraith, @8-29pm, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @redhoneysugarorange, @may-rbi, @aconitewolfsbane, @thegatorsgoose, @undead-essence

DP x DC fic: Delivery Ghost

This has been consuming my brain for weeks. Based on this post by @gummybearstastelikesadness:

Danny wakes up in the new world and, not feeling responsible for its villains (unlike the ghost attacks where he is the one who turned on the portal) decides to take a break and have a vacation. As a pizza delivery person, he brings orders to the recipients within the specified timeframe, no matter what. Certain citizens of this world are suspicious when the app lets them order to a town 2 hours away from the location ... and the delivery boy is there in under 10 minutes.

If only Danny cared about their feelings.

Part 1.

Waking up sore and confused in the middle of a random field with only vague memories of last night's events wasn't that weird for Danny Fenton. He had been Amity Park's resident hero for several years and had lived through much stranger awakenings. His list started with Vlad Plasmius's spooky basement inside a cloning tube and his parents' lab strapped to the vivisection table, and ended with places like the middle of nowhere in the Ghost Zone after an ecto-storm or a hundered-year-old abandoned maze of secret tunnels under the Masons' house after a particularly exciting date with Sam. Next to those, an ordinary-looking meadow was a welcome change. Despite that, something felt not quite right, but Danny couldn't quite focus on the feeling in his drowsy state.

Careful inspection of his body revealed that he had all of his limbs attached where they should be attached and functioning as normal. Aside from mild discomfort after lying on the cold ground for a significant amount of time he was perfectly healthy, despite splotches of dried ectoplasm and blood indicating recent injuries.

Deciding that he did not care enough to remember what those splotches were from just yet, Danny shrugged and continued his inspection. He looked around the field, trying to find any clues, tracks, or signs of civilization, and, failing to locate any, he transformed into his ghost form.

The transformation was enough of a jolt to wake him up from his morning sleepiness, forcing Danny to remember the fight with an unfamilliar ghost that appeared just as he finished fixing reindeer antlers to the top of the head of his freshly-made one-foot-tall snowman made from the first snow in the season. He had been so concerned with taking the fight away from his new porch guardian that he hadn't taken it seriously enough. Between exchanging blows and trying to find out the name of the intruder into his neighbourhood, he ended up too distracted to notice that they were not alone and got blasted with a dark-purple beam from behind.

As much as he would have liked to know more, the memory tastefully faded to black and refused to provide any further details.

'Never mind the why's and how's then,' - Danny thought, unconcerned. 'Time to consider the where's and the when's.'

Having thought that, he suddenly realised what had been bothering him from the moment he woke up. He was so busy taking stock of his physical state that he forgot to question the gentle warmth of the ground he had slept on and the decidedly non-December greenery around him.

Wide-eyed, Danny quickly flew up, searching for anything that could point him towards Amity or any other nearby town.

The vegetation did not seem too different from what he was used to, so he concluded that he probably wasn't anywhere Southern enough to be this warm in December. That suggested Clockwork shenanigans, which did not fill Danny with too much confidence.

He turned invisible, picked a random direction, and flew at a leisurely speed fully intending to enjoy the idyllic weather.

A couple of hours later, he finally came across a large enough town where he decided he would not be instantly noticed in the morning crowd. He easily found the local library and got permission to use a computer from the librarian that barely glanced at him in the dimly lit lobby. He made his way towards the two ancient computers ready to learn the local date and hopefully figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Danny wasn't truly surprised when the calendar showed a date a couple months in the past according to his personal timeline. He had spent enough time (ha!) with Clockwork to not be put off by a bit of minor time-travel. What surprised him, however, was his inability to find even a single mention of Amity Park on the internet.

Familiar forums, social media account of his friends, Amity news sources, even his personal blog that he posted blurry pictures of blob ghosts to were missing. Maps, both regular and satellite, showed a familiar but slightly different landscape where his home town should have been with a completely different name written over it.

Danny stared at the monitor with unfocused eyes. If he really had travelled in time, he would have been able to find some trace of Amity, or his friends. Searching for their names gave unhelpful results, and trying to look up ghosts and ghost attacks only led him down the rabbit hole of superheroes and something called 'The Justice League' that just gave him a headache. This led to the natural conclusion that instead of a minor instance of short time-travel he got tangled in a major instance of timeline-hopping.

He shuddered a little, remembering Dan. At least it seemed that Danny didn't exist at all in this timeline, in any shape. That turned out to be a slightly disturbing thought and Danny decided to ignore it with the practiced ease of someone who was used to rolling with the punches for the sake of his mental stability.

He wondered briefly when this world and his started to differ, but his limited knowledge of human history was not enough to give him much of a hint. He figured it was at least a couple hundred years in the past, but that was the extent of his detective abilities.

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

It was a relief to finally exit the stuffy library building and let the rays of sunshine fall on his face after several hours of researching the new world he found himself in. Despite failing to get any closer to the mystery of his appearance there, he didn't feel that upset at the change of scenery.

While walking leisurely along the tidy street, Danny contemplated the heroes and villains of this timeline. It seemed that the Justice League was the top dog when it came to the forces of good. He wasn't sure how to approach them without raising suspicion that a person suddenly coming into existence would certainly cause.

Suddenly, he was struck by a thought so alien to him that he stopped in his tracks and stared blankly ahead.

He didn't have to do anything!

There were no ghost attacks in the news, and thus probably no portal to the Ghost Zone. He hadn't opened a doorway between the Infinite Realms and Earth, and there was nobody who needed help that couldn't be given by any of the local heroes.

Danny realised that didn't feel any pressing need to protect this world. That little part of his core that was always anxious about Amity, about Sam and Tucker, and about the rest of the world was now blissfully quiet. Danny smiled at that, shaking his head and continuing his walk towards what seemed to be a small river.

He also began to notice the stares people around were directing at him and tried to get lost in the crowd - with little luck. It almost seemed that having drawn the attention of the locals, he was standing out as an obvious outsider.

He was starting to get annoyed at the constant attention, when he noticed his ragged sleeve and recalled that he was in fact still covered in suspiciously blood-looking greenish blots. He considered the fact that it was actually blood from his already-healed small scratches was irrelevant.

Cursing quietly, Danny quickly turned into a shady-looking alleyway and made his escape from the public eye by going invisible.

He decided to continue on his course towards the riverside in this way, while mulling over the earlier revelation. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that it was a great idea to take a break and get some rest from ghostly affairs. And if he really wanted to go back, he could always find a way to open a portal into the Ghost Zone and find Clockwork. His sort-of mentor, sort-of father figure wouldn't mind helping him with a little nudge towards the right timeline, would he? Besides, the guy probably knew all about Danny's little jaunt across realities. Since there was no sign of him or his cryptic advice, it was entirely reasonable that he approved of the whole thing.

So it was decided: Danny Fenton was going on vacation.

He flipped in the air in excitement and started flying away from the town. Giggling a little at the fact that he still didn't know the name of the first town he visited in this timeline, he froze in place as something occured to him: He had no money, no possessions and didn't know where to go.

Despite not technically needing food or shelter as a ghost, he didn't want to spend his vacation hiding away under his invisibility. And what sort of vacation would it be if he had no money to spend on fun things like videogames and hot dogs?

He figured the solution was simple: He'll just have to find a job.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #jason todd #tim wayne #i know little of the dc canon and care even less about danny phantom's #canon has a very loose connection to my plans #we are just going by what seems funny to me #delivery ghost au part 4 #delivery ghost #spooky stories #barely proofread this time oops

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