#i gotta get the FUCK outta florida
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
what flashed in my head the moment i heard about hurricane Kirk
#gilmore girls#kirk gleason#kirk gilmore girls#please god not another hurricane i havent even cleaned up the yard from Helene#i gotta get the FUCK outta florida#you landlocked bitches piss me off BAD#e rambles
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jeez opportunities really do just happen to people huh
#it wasnt for me by the way why would it have been lol#it was for bf and he's gonna take it#but that means in like 4 months we're moving like 6 states away from where we are now#which isn't bad but like... what do i have going for me?#i dont have any degrees. i dont have qualifications in anything#what even is the minimum wage in florida?? willing to bet it aint 15. im not working for less than that fuck you all#like i gotta get my shit together or else i'm gonna be so fucked#getting my servesafe is probably a good start#but i just wanna write. but to make writing my job i actually Have To Write#but like i'm so sick of doing fast food and i refuse to do retail. what do i even do????#okay as much as i hate living in connecticut i genuinely think florida will be worse.#we're gonna end up being in a very urban area and it's gonna make my anxiety really bad#'but jay why dont you just not go?' my hometown is cursed. explaining why will be a whole post on its own#i want to leave the fucking nest and honestly i dont think it'll be a permanent move anyway#i mean idk i'm going back and forth but like i gotta get the fuck outta here bro like i'm not even joking i have to leave ct so bad
0 notes
Text
Summertime Magic XII
A/N: I'M BACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK. I know it has been a very long time, like years, but I have been going through a lot of stuff like depression, panic attacks, and just an all-around mess. BUT I AM BACK AND HERE TO STAY.
To Catch Up, Press Here.
Warning: No warning but ... nope, you gotta read it.
Song Recommendation: Honest Kiana Lede
Word Count: 2665
“Of course, baby. Especially after that. You basically fought for me and you still looked beautiful doing that shit. You’re a queen for sure, always have. Always will be”, N’Jadaka kissed her perfectly bandaged knuckles and lied his head into her chest again. “And you will always be my king, baby boy.” She straddled his lap kissing his forehead and was startled by him pulling them down to the bed so she lied on the bed and he was on top. “I love you, my queen.”
“I love you, my king.”
They began to kiss and get intimate as their chains sat in a dish together, sunken in a cleaner to get rid of all the blood they drew together as a team, in the distance.
~
“Daka, have you seen my keys”, Y/N asked as she looked through the multiple purses of her home while N’Jadaka was in the kitchen washing dishes. “Nah, baby. I haven’t. Did you check ya jeans you wore last night?”
“That was the first thing I checked, baby”, Y/N walked out of her bedroom wearing a camel-toned satin pencil skirt with a black turtleneck and matching heels; her hair was laid with a seamless 1B lace front wig cut into a bob, left side tucked behind her ear. Daka turned his head in her direction and started to walk up to her. “Look at my queen, looking like she looking.” He wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her neck. “Baby, I gotta go”, Y/N said as she pouted. Daka growled in her ear and said “Nah, you don’t” before smacking her plush bottom. Y/N felt all heated up but knew the business had to be dealt with at the shop. It had been a month and the team was finally chosen, eight nail techs, four barbers and beauticians, and a whole lot more. “Aht aht. None of that. Momma got to go have this business meeting, my love. And besides, don’t you have to be at the center today anyway.”
“Ah, shit. You right”, N’Jadaka said as he dried his hands off. The grand opening was in a week for the center and everything had to be perfect. “Shuri been bugging me about that. The fam was supposed to be all here, but T is in New York, M is in the ATL and Shuri is gonna be in Florida opening the other centers.” Y/N listened as she grabbed ice-cold water from the fridge; she noticed her keys were by the door. “Well, they are here in spirit. OK, I will see you tonight for dinner, right?”
“Oh, for sure. It’s at Leslie’s?” Y/N nodded as she smiled and said, “yes and you can meet my Godson, Izaiah.” N’Jadaka grinned adding, “I can’t wait to meet little man, baby. I know he is gonna be a good kid.” She looked at him as she walked back to the door. “Well, my baby is very much on the shy side. It would take a while for him to get warmed up to you.”
“What is he into? Like coloring, video games, what?”
“Eh, a little bit of everything. But I gotta go. Love you, baby”, and like that she was gone. N’Jadaka looked at his watch and ran off to the room to get ready. He looked over what he chose to wear again to make sure, a black sweater with matching slacks and loafers. When he was finished, he heard some movement in his living room. With his Navy tactic instincts, he listened carefully as he crept in. Suddenly, something told him to grab and pull which he did. He pulled down a slightly heavy object and flipped it over his shoulder; when he looked to see what or who it was, his older cousin chuckled heartedly. “T, what the Hell? You scared the fuck outta me!”
“I am sorry, cousin N’Jadaka. I thought it would be an amazing surprise to see your dear cousin.” The cousins dear their royal salute and chuckled at how T’Challa startled the Prince. “I thought you were in the Big Apple. Go ahead and sit. Get comfortable”, Daka said as he heads to the kitchen. As T’Challa sat on the couch, N’Jadaka asked “you want anything while I’m in here, cuz.”
“Water will be fine. I see you added a few new pictures around, dear cousin.” T’Challa had lifted up the golden framed picture and grinned; it was a photo of N’Jadaka and Y/N at what seemed to be a wedding. He wore a navy suit with a white button-down and his hair braided back; she wore a beautiful, tasteful burgundy sheer gown with her hair in a low bun and golden jewelry. As he placed the photo down, N’Jadaka handed him his water and sat on the armchair near the couch. “Well, Y/N will be a beautiful princess one day and from Shuri’s mouth, she is quite the woman. She could not stop speaking highly of her once she came back.” N’Jadaka leaned back into his chair and agreed to say “yeah, my baby is something special.” T’Challa sipped from his bottle and noticed his cousin grinning into space. As he leaned to place his bottle on a lonely coaster, he asked “well, when will you tell her you are THE prince of Wakanda?”
N’Jadaka side-eyed his cousin and uttered “it’s not the right time, T. One day, but not now.” T’Challa lay back on the couch and folded his leg over his other knee. “If you love Y/N then why hide who you REALLY are? You are the Prince of Wakanda and a part of one of the wealthiest families, there is. You live in a lavish part of California near the hills and you have an underground garage for cars. How does she not know or expect you are basically worth trillions?” N’Jadaka leaned forward, elbows knees, and said “she been busy with her shop, and besides, I don’t want her to end up being like every woman I have been with. Cuz, I had multiple women claiming I gave them a baby but how can I do that as a virgin? What we got pregnant orally”; this made T’Challa laugh and boom around the area. “Ah, yes. You are talking about Ashley, Veronica, and Francesca.”
“Yeah, those ‘women’ only wanted to take pictures and pretend it was their shit. I’m just glad Shuri can hack people’s phones and whatnot. But I just gotta make sure Y/N is really the one, T. That’s all.” N’Jadaka looked at the time on his phone and placed it on the table; T’Challa noticed the picture on the screen of the couple. “I have 20/20 vision, Prince N’Jadaka, so that means I can clearly see that she is the one you will marry and have multiple babies with. I have yet to meet her but Shuri has told me nothing but good things about her. You should not doubt that she isn’t. Father has taught you that before he passed away.”
“I know but-“
“Aht aht, no buts, Prince. Y/N is the only. I can see it already.”
“I agree with your cousin, N’Jadaka”, N’Jadaka heard coming from the secret elevator. There he stood’ 6’5, around 250 or more in brown dress pants, wool turtleneck, and suede slipper. N’Jadaka stood and gave his good friend brotherly love. “Baku, you look good man. I see you not dressing like a hobo anymore”; M’Baku laughs while he faked like he was going to hit him in the gut. “I wanted to come to visit before my trip to Trinidad for a month or so. I had to see about this overly flashy garage of yours but also to hear about the lovely Y/N in person.”
“You tryna ease up on my lady, bro?”
“Her, no. A sister, twin or cousin that looks exactly her, yes most definitely”, M’Baku said matter of factly while the men looked at one another. “Well, MY baby is that shop handling business and away from you, horn ball”. Suddenly, the door opened and the men turned to see a woman coming in. “Come in, Leslie. We can get the-"; the ladies stopped when the N’Jadaka was with two men. “Oh, hey baby. I am so sorry. I came to get the paperwork for my employees. We can wait until you’re done.” N’Jadaka walked to her and hugged Leslie, and gave his lady a kiss on the forehead. “Never apologize, baby girl. That is why I gave you the key to come and go as you please. I wanna introduce you to my friend, M’Baku, and my cousin, T’Challa.” When Y/N looked at Leslie, she smiled, and waved at the two then looked between her and N’Jadaka. “While y’all talk, Ima go to the back and look for those papers”, Leslie said as she fixed her power suit and gave the men slight bows to pass by; M’Baku watched as she passed by and waited until she disappeared. “Is she attached to anyone”, M’Baku asked and Y/N smiled. “Married actually with a child if I may add.” M’Baku held his head down in defeat as a joke as T’Challa smacked him on the chest and made his way over to Y/N. “Hello, Y/N. It is finally nice to meet you in person and now I see what Shuri said about your beauty is truth.”
“She is very sweet and telling by your accent like Shuri’s is that you are actually born and raised in Wakanda”; T’Challa looked at N’Jadaka to see that his eyes squinted right before Y/N looked at where he changed into a smiley expression. “Yes, I sure am.”
“Ooo, how is it? I’ve heard it's beautiful. I tried looking up pictures, but I couldn’t find any pictures.”
“Well, that is because we are like a very private location. You know, to keep intruders-.”
“And colonizers”, N’Jadaka said cutting of T’Challa. T’Challa looked at N’Jadaka before looking back at Y/N. “I guess he is right.” They heard Leslie’s heels click against the ground and turned with the files in hand. “Alright, girly. Let’s get a move on. We got lost to do tonight.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you both. I guess I will see more of you soon”, Y/N said and T’Challa nodded. Leslie touched N’Jadaka’s shoulder and said, “see you tomorrow night, and don’t forget the drinks.”
“Bye, my baby”, Y/N said before Leslie gently pushed her out and closed the door. N’Jadaka smiled at the door before M’Baku asked “so, her friend. Is that a real situation with her husband and child or”, with a mouth full of washed, crunchy celery; the men looked at him as he shrugged and kept eating.
THE NEXT NIGHT
Y/N stepped out of the bathroom in nothing, but an all-black bra and panty set staring at two outfit options; a light blue jean dress with a matching jacket a brand new black Timberlands that N’Jadaka bought, or a yellow sundress and sandals. N’Jadaka was in the mirror standing there in a white tee and black combat cargo. He peeked over at Y/N holding up the outfit up to her frame as she looked in the mirror. He leaned against the door frame and looked over her outfit. “Ain’t it too cold to wear a dress. It’s like 50 degrees outside and besides, they said to be comfortable and warm since we are eating in the backyard.”
“Yeah but it’s pretty.”
“Yes, it’s very pretty and you are beautiful, but I don’t want you catching a cold because it’s ‘cute.’ What about jeans, basic with a jacket and ya Timbs.” She turned to look at what he wore and up & down saying “you tryna be twins again, big head.” He walked up to her with hands in his pockets and smiled. “I mean, Ima be warm so I’m just saying that my fit choice makes sense.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, making her smile, and she told him “tell you what? What if I wear one of your long sleeve white tees, black jeans with the boots, and my jean vest.”
“Eh, I don’t know”, he said being goofy and it made her hit his forehead softly and he laughed. “So rough. Aight aight fine BUT if you get cold do NOT, AND I do mean DO NOT ask for my jacket, little lady”; she held up her pinky and said, “pinky promise.” He rolled his eyes and he cuffed their fingers together. Soon, she got dressed before doing her hair in a large bun on her head and looked in the mirror, quietly admitting that she actually looked better than this in her jean dress; they hopped in the car and were off. As Y/N led them to the location, they looked around the neighborhood, full of white people and huge houses. N’Jadaka shook his head while observing the people watching their car pass by. Once they finally pulled up, he turned off the car and reached behind him to the backseat, and grabbed his jean jacket along with the bottle of alcohol for the small dinner party. Before he got out he looked at Y/N’s left hand as she applied lip gloss and checked her hair; he stared at the hand with new jewelry before he asked “ya ready, baby?”
“Yeah, ready”; he walked over to her side to open the door, help her out and close the door before wrapping his arm around her waist as they walked. Before she rang the bell, Y/N could hear giggles and pitter-patter passing by inside which made Y/N chuckle. “Leslie is chasing around Izaiah before dinner. It makes him eat a lot which means he will be tired by ten.”
“He goes to bed at ten?”
“If they are lucky. That little boy can get so much energy that he won’t be able to sleep until four.” The door soon opened and revealed Monte smiling big and pulling Y/N into his arm and lifting her up into a big hug. “Monteeeee, ugh. Put me down, you big dummy”, Y/N said as she laughed before Monte put her down. Monte held his arms up and said “welcome to our crib. JD, it’s good to see you again brotha, man”, he said as he gave him a brotherly handshake. “Thanks for inviting me, man.”
“Ah, don’t mention. If you dealing with Y/N, you deserve some love over here”, he stood to the side as they walked in. The ceiling was tall with a silver tinted chandelier that hung midway, two levels of stories, and an archway on both sides of the home. “Whoa, bro. This is a HUGE house”, Y/N said as she looked around; N’Jadaka just did the same, but he knew in his head that his place was bigger, she just didn’t know about it. They heard the giggles and laughs getting closer when a three-year-old toddler ran their way and Y/N scooped him up. “Got ya, stinky butt”, she said before lifting him into the air and blowing a raspberry on his belly. Leslie walked around the corner out of breath and said “hey, y’all. As y’all can see, the little troublemaker was tryna make a getaway.” Y/N held him on her hip while he cuddles into her and said “he should know that when TT is here, it is a wrap”; she tickled his stomach loving his little giggle. N’Jadaka looked over to Leslie and said “hey, I brought the drinks.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll show you the kitchen so we can chill them”, Leslie said as she walked past the group after kissing her husband and son. Once the pair walked into the kitchen, he saw the oakwood countertop and black-white patterned tile ground. “This is nice as fuck. It really is nice, Lez. No cap.”, he said as got to the fridge caressing the dark steel fridge that matched the coffee machine, microwave, and stove/oven. “Thanks, we got them from this appliance shop down the way. You can sit down while they go out. I think we should talk.” N’Jadaka sat on one of the barstools at the island placing his jacket down and Leslie pass the water bottle to him; he opened it and began drinking.
“So what you wanna talk about? If this is about M’Baku, I apologize. He's wild as fuck I swear. Do you mind if I grab an apple?” She washed one off and handed it to him with a smile. He nodded as he bit into at how delicious it was heard:
“Ndiyazi ukuba ungubani kanye kanye ... iNkosana N'Jadaka (I know who you really are... Prince N'Jadaka),” Leslie said, causing him to cough from the shock and looked up; noticing her brow raise, folded arms and slight grin, hips leaning against the counter.
@muse-of-mbaku
@im5ftbutmythroat66
@chaneajoyyy
@melanin-samii
@theunsweetenedtruth
@doux-ciel
@unicornluvin8765
@vikkidc
@wakandantings
@thadelightfulone
@mzamethystp
@simbiann
@tropicalsun10
@babydoll756
@notoriouslynay
@vminax
@quinsly
@pinkdemolition
@quietstorm-73
@chaoticcashfancroissant
@bugngiz
@chocolatedippedinhoney
@yafavcocoa
@lostgalaxies
@mbakuwife
@youreadthatright
@babygotl01292003
@acceptyourselfloveyourself
@madamslayyy
@yoyolovesbucky
@theogbadbitch
@wakanda-inspired
@bitchacho25
@toniilaney
@wakandascrystal
@girlsneedlovingfanfics
@raysunshine78
@melodyofmbaku
@hearteyes-for-killmonger
@silenceisplatinum
@thickemadame
@shookmcgookqueen
@heykillmongerluhme
@fonville-designs
@cutewylie
@allhailqueennel
@10bsatatime
@nickidub718
@lildashofmelanin
@allhailqueennel
@amirra88
@hakunalive4eva
@ghostfacekill-monger
@thickemadame
#n'jadaka x reader#n'jadaka x oc#n'jadaka udaku#n'jadaka#soft boi erik#erik killmonger x oc#erik stevens x reader#erik killmonger x plus size reader#erik stevens x plus size reader#bp fandom#bp fanfic#summertime magic fic#summertime magic
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
5-23-92 pt.2
What the hell do you think your doing to my brother Keith Wuornos . . . And I was yellin. But I didnt care. He said. I’m sorry that your brother has caught this disease. And we were trying all kinds of experiments to save his life. Bullshit I said. He’s already explained the genuee pig jazz to me. Go on in there, as I was pointing to his room. And tell him he’s dying. Man! You fucking bastard. I hope we get a chance to sue the fuck outta you. And turned around and walked off. When I got back to the room. Keith heard everything. But he didnt bicker on it. So he was glad I knew then that I told an army personnel off. ha ha ha! . . . He said I know how you getting your money Aili. I know your husseling. And I want you to stop it. I’m leaving you. . . 10,000 dollars in a benneficary. I said I wont take it Keith. I dont want your money . . . I just want you to live . . . Anyway I stayed three days visiting him. He said I was the only one who’d come to see him in nearly 8 months now. This broke my heart. So I told him. I’d come more often. When I could. Four months later when I was really doing good hooking, wanting to rent out an apartment in San Francisco so I could be near him. They transferred him then to Ann Arbor medical center. Screwing up my plans. So I hitched from Florida . . . now. Ducky, I think you, and others where dropping in. So I didnt have to worry about his spirits as much . . . I just thought I’d lay this story on you. Many many of them. I bet you’ve got alot of them too. So you see that’s why I’m writing so much. old friend! OK Gotta Go Love Lee
#aileen wuornos#deardawn#diary entry#radical feminists do interact#radical feminist safe#radical feminism#feminism#short story#hitchhike#heartbreak#tw death
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
pepe a little bit of a purse puppy in his old age and likes me carrying him AROUND.. like a FOOL. but equally florida heat is not fucking around. i gotta carry him around so he dont over exert and get a heatstroke. happened before and it scared the fuck outta me
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've never felt at home here even though I've lived here my whole life. I've always felt a longing for something else,somewhere else.
I'm 34 now and I'm not getting any younger.
I was born and raised in a small town ohio. My town SUCKS to be honest. We have no pharmacy, no grocery store,no pool or things for kids to do, no hospital and no jobs, gotta drive 15 minutes to the next town over which is not a whole lot bigger. The people here are so close minded, And dating here is outta the question.. We have rednecks and guys who think they're gangsters, not my ideal type.
I'm also a single Mom and just want more for my kids and my life, I want to be somewhere that they have all the opportunities possible because there are none here. And I'm SO sick of running into my exes friends everywhere I go. I can't get a job without a manager or employee being best buddies with my gas lighting narcissist ex.
So to say I'm ready for a fresh start and somewhere that feels like home and like peace is a understatment....
After researching and watching many videos on different places I've found a place and seems like the perfect fit for me, Asheville, NC. That's the end game for me.
My sister recently moved from Ohio to Florida and says she can easily get me a job with her. So what my thinking is I'll go visit next summer. See if I can get that job and perhaps stay with her while I save. Now I know Florida isn't NC but it is closer and maybe I can raise my kiddos in FL and retire and live the rest of my life in NC. I'm just thinking out loud here and trying to get my thoughts on paper(so to speak).
But thats where I run into an issue. I feel guilty as fuck because of my mother.
My mother and I have not had the best relationship, it's actually toxic most of the time because she's a gaslighter and so fucking condescending it's crazy. I'm a quiet and chill person for the most part and she wakes up yelling, her voice volume is always at fucking 100. She drives me crazy. We currently live with her so I can save money and get out of a bad living situation. So I'm thankful for the place to stay but as someone who is quiet and has sensory issues sometimes the noise and her bitching just pushes me to the edge so much....ahhh I'm getting off topic...basically she drives me crazy..
But I'm a really nice fucking person, so even if your shitty to me I still care about your well being.
She's single with no car, no job(retired) no friends really and we have no family we are close to here(everyone is dead pretty much)besides her 1 sister who is also about to move with her daughter hours away. So then she will be all alone.
My sister and i have tried to talk my mother into moving down to Florida too so we can all be close together but she literally refuses.
So I feel bad that if I move and take her grandkids away she's going to be all alone and then what if something happens to her. I don't want her to die or something while I'm not here.
But then if I wait until she dies that could be 20 years from now and God I don't wanna be old myself when i start over.
I'm literally so miserable here but I'm so torn. I have an appointment with a therapist to work out all my childhood trauma and hopefully talk through this. That's kinda why I wanna write it down so I have it fresh in my mind what I want to talk about.
But if your reading this what do you think? Have you had to deal with anything similar?
#tyedyeinherveins#mental health#3am thoughts#healing#spiritual journey#journal#moving#life lessons#life journey#journey#moving on#meant for more#hope#parents#trauma
1 note
·
View note
Text
I'm making jokes but like.
For real, yesterday's job made me so uncomfortable.
I just gotta live with it cuz I need the money.
Once I got my training and my money, I'm getting the FUCK outta Florida.
0 notes
Text
Cred: @/primevideo on insta
#same#ong#getting my money#getting my tats#getting my shit together#then I’m gonna move somewhere but I’m not sure yet#I’m thinking florida where my mom is or North Carolina so I’m close to family#who cares about me#while I’m in an all new place#I gotta move outta my nannas as much as I love her lmao#so I’m straight chillen honestly#fuck men#but also not but still fuck men
0 notes
Text
ay there y’all! I’ve managed to do without one of these for a while, but my busted ass brain is telling me that it can’t hurt to do another one of these now, so here we go.
I’m Seth! I’m trans, queer as fuck, and disabled on multiple fronts. I live with my mom, stepdad, and grandfather, all of which are some gun-toting, covid-denying, straight-ticket republicans who swear by Fox News and Donald Trump, and basically fact check exactly nothing ever, going so far as to get upset when I do so for them. I’m waiting on disability to either clear or tell me to reapply, so I am basically sitting on my hands and full up of anxiety until that happens. flat broke, and have no income until that shit hits, so...y’know. woo.
I got a friend across the states who is also in a position where they wanna move. plan we got currently is to get a loan to buy a house. we got plenty of prospective places, but it’s gonna take both of us having funds coming in to actually, like...afford it. friend has a job currently! so it’s just me that needs to get something going, which we’re figuring my disability will work for, but the way shit is now, it’d seriously help to get shit ready to go ahead of time.
I’ve got a bunch of stuff I gotta do here, including go across the state to get the rest of my stuff from where I was living before--believe it or not, place was worse than here--and paperwork legal things to change my name and whatnot. I don’t really go hungry here or have to deal with constant arguing, which is leagues better than where I lived before, but living with folks who champion assholes who want me dead and aren’t afraid to show their support, much less routinely misgender and deadname me, sorta makes me wanna get the fuck outta dodge, you dig? my mom kinda tries, but also has a habit of making my dysphoria worse with her unthinking commentary.
am hoping to get funds to go towards a legal name change, travel funds so I can get the rest of my stuff (including important papers I forgot when I skipped town out of anxiety and desperation), moving fees, and eventually a down payment. anything that I get will go towards these.
TL;DR: I’m here, I’m queer, and I wanna get the fuck out. family I live with in Oregon are hardline Dolan Trumbo supporters, to the point of calling the insurrectionists ‘good people’ who were ‘doing God’s work,’ and I got a friend over in Florida who is apparently willing to put up with my shenanigans. does not take much to understand why I wanna get while the getting is good.
wanna know how to help? well, reblogging helps, if you can’t donate funds. and donating does definitely help. good vibes and well wishes help too. Paypal, which has my deadname, is... https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/seththemuse
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One
I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot!
Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!
Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?
Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.
This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.
Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.
Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida
“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “
The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”
“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”
“Penny don’t got work for me today.”
“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”
“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”
“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”
“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”
Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”
Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”
And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.
Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.
The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.
Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”
“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”
“I’ll fill the tub.”
“Summer sucks ass.”
“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.
Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”
“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.
The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “
Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”
“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”
Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”
Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”
“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.
Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”
“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”
He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”
* * *
Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.
The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!
The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.
If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.
Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.
So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.
There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ‘hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.
Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.
No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”
“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”
“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”
“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”
“Nope.”
Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “
“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.”
Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”
Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”
“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.
“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”
Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.
* * *
“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.
Nothing happens.
Eddie swears louder.
There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”
No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.
“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”
Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.
He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.
“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”
Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”
“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”
Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”
Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”
“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.
“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”
“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.
“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”
“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”
Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”
They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.
What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.
“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”
Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Amphetamine
WARNINGS: use of substance, alcohol, difference in ages, cursing
INTRO
“Florida fucking sucks….” Marcel stated plainly, taking a long drag of his joint, holding out for me to take. He rubbed his calloused fingers over his close cut hair before gently gliding them over the strings of the bass in his lap. I could hear the static in the speaker and a singular fat bass note. I ash my cigarette in the dirty crystal ashtray before picking up the joint for a small hit, immediately passing it to the piano player, Jules. She played a few random chords and took a sip from her wine glass.
“I think you just miss your boyfriend.” She chuckled taking a long drag from the shared joint.
“T.B.H so do I….” Our drummer Louie whined, letting a stick hit the snare with no particular rhythm whatsoever. I was confused...as hell.
“I’m sorry- boyfriend?” I said in a shocked tone.
“Shut up guys- Talia. I am NOT- capital N. O. T- gay. He’s like my best friend and he’s away on a job.” Marcel retorted, defensively.
“Aye, I don’t judge.” I smirked.
“It’s nice that he left you the keys to the house so we could keep practicing in his absence though.” Louie said, standing up to add to the rotation of the smoke sesh. He took several puffs and held it in before passing it back to Marcel.
“THIS ISNT EVEN- this isn’t even your house??” I noticed how loudly I was speaking suddenly and hushed my voice trying my best to not annoy the neighbors anymore than we already had.
“Our guitarist we told you about. Sam Drake? He plays with us on his downtime when he’s not being Dora.” Jules said, filling me in as the men in our group chose not to elaborate. I pursed my lips to suppress what I thought was about to be the ugliest giggle and took a drag from my cigarette, looking out at the moonlit sky reflecting off the ocean behind the gating. Our neighbors boats rocking gently on the waves. “When do you think he’ll be back?” She asked.
“Honestly I don’t know. Anytime he leaves out for a job he’s gone for like a month or two.” Marcel replied, staring at the ceiling, performing his scales.
“Yo one time he was gone longer than that- like four months- and I thought something shitty happened to him.” Louie said, taking a sip of his beer.
“I remember that. I got a bad feeling and actually went to church for once to pray about it.” Jules sighed, taking a big gulp of her wine. I could tell it really worried the group when he left.
“How long has he been gone?” I asked, being new to the band and the neighborhood.
“Close to a month I think. I heard him mention something about this job not being as big as usual. Simple run.” Louie answered.
“What the hell does this guy do anyways?” I asked. I was genuinely curious.
“He says he’s a travelling historian and treasurer.” Marcel huffed.
“See… Dora the Explorer.” Jules nudged me in the ribs and I snorted lightly.
“I can’t wait till he hears you sing when he gets back though. He’s gonna lose shit. Black Velvet is gonna make him weak.” Marcel cheesed ridiculously as I blushed faintly at his compliment. The bud was definitely hitting him hard. ‘Lightweight.’ I thought with a turn of my lips.
As the blunt came my way once more, I took the final drag of my cigarette and tossed it somewhere random. I accepted the joint and sat on the speaker facing the group, the close quarters of the garage becoming smokey. “Speaking of, when’s the next time we play?”
“We perform every weekend from the garage for the neighborhood actually. All the old leather skinned white men and their wives come out beer and wine drunk and dance terribly.” He replied with a smirk.
“It’s AWESOME!” Louie added with a contagious goofy laugh. I looked at the bottle of whiskey and huffed, holding it up for everyone to see.
“You’re outta booze. Also I gotta pee.” I announced unnecessarily.
“Just grab a bottle outta freezer. And the bathroom is the first door on your right.” Marcel nodded his head in the direction of the keys that sat atop the heavy duty toolbox.
“Are you sure he won’t mind?” I asked. I just wanted to be safe.
“If he does, I’ll buy him a few rounds and a new bottle.” he answered nonchalantly.
“Okaaay….” I mouthed to myself as I maneuvered my way through the crowded garage, reaching for the keys.
I walked up the wooden steps and opened the door to a dark room. The faint scent of old cigarette smoke and cologne creeping through my nostrils. A wall of books from ceiling to floor appeared in the moonlight. Immediately my curiosity peaked but the slight sting in my bladder told me to go before anything else. I noticed the frames lining the hallway contained what looked like really old maps. ‘Madagascar, huh?’ I thought as I shuffled into the bathroom to quickly relieve myself. Afterwards, I very quickly washed my hands so I could grab the whiskey from the freezer in the kitchen when I tripped over something really hard. I squeaked in pain when I looked down to see a large oxygen tank like the kind they used to do deep sea diving. I shook it off but my toe still felt a bit sore. It could've been worse had I not been wearing boots. So onward to the kitchen I went, looking down now and then to make sure I didn’t trip over anything else. The space was built just like my Godfather’s across the street so it was easy to find. HOWEVER! As hard as I tried to not pay attention to the things in the living room, it was to no avail. I mean he wasn’t home so what harm could I really do? After a few seconds of a mental argument with Me, Myself, and I, I made a decision. “Fuck it. I’m doin’ it.” I muttered to myself as I slammed the freezer door closed. That’s when I noticed the square polaroid on the fridge of two children in a shogun helmet and a safari hat. ‘Maybe they’re his…’ I thought.
I followed the glass window to the wall of books and in between them what looked to be some strange artifacts. A skull with a corny pirates patch on it was being used as a bookend and I chuckled. “Cute.” I glanced around the living room and noticed the small box tv sitting ridiculously close to the couch and a few old gaming consoles and low and behold.... “Is that a goddamn VCR player???” I whispered to myself with a judgey scoff. ‘Jesus he needs an update…’ Not that they weren’t great systems but damn… On the coffee table were a few empty cigarette cartons and empty bottles of beer, a bit of ash dragged across it. A tall surfboard was stood in a corner by its lonesome. The walls were adorned with a couple of interesting things: an old liferaft, mounted pirate swords, some pictures of a group of people holding guns and stuff. “Kay...so he’s a tad obsessed with pirates…” On another wall was a mounted blue electric guitar and a beautiful oakwood acoustic. I ran my fingers across the strings as they made an odd sound. “Tune that shit man… well I guess he can't…” ‘He’s not home…’ There was also a massive map of the world posted on a pinboard with hundreds of tiny colorful pins sporadically placed. ��Did he really go to all these places?’ I stared at it for a moment in sheer wonder before I brought my attention back to the book wall before me, the whiskey bottle in my hand beginning to sweat. My eyes widened at the titles as my fingers brushed the spines of each one, stopping when I reached an old globe. I drug my fingers across it, causing it to spin a little. I stopped on an encyclopedia of pirates and gently pulled it out. Tucking the wet bottle in my arm, I turned its pages. Some names highlighted, cliff notes off to the side of some passages. Some corners of the pages were bent as if to save a place. Honestly, it was amazing. The guy knew so much about-
“What the hell are you doin’?!” A deep irate voice sounded, startling me. The glass bottle fell from my arms shattering to the hardwood floor as I squealed.
#samuel drake#sam drake#sam drake x reader#sam drake smut#uncharted reader insert#uncharted x reader#samuel drake smut#uncharted 4#uncharted#sam drake fanfiction
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
in too deep (part 1) - jules
jules x reader
warnings: a lil bit of violence (not in this part, but eventually) but not too bad, eensy weensy bit of smut in the beginning, SPOILERS FOR VILLAINS! so if you haven’t seen it, go watch it before you read this!!
notes: this literally just popped into mi cabeza because i thought “i wanna see a movie just like villains but with a pair of amateur lesbian criminals how amazing would that be”
so this is basically the plot of villains and THAT is how creative i am
**************
“fuck, oh my god that was so hot babe!” jules gushed from the passenger seat. “the way you jumped over that counter and waved that fucking gun? shit, babe!”
“fuck yes!” you mashed your lips against hers, a hand coming up to grip her jaw. you pulled apart, jamming the keys into the ignition and starting up the car. “let’s get the hell outta dodge!”
you sped away from the gas station, switching lanes onto a backroad, civilization becoming smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.
“next stop florida!” you shouted at the top of your lungs. you looked over at your girlfriend, who was frantically trying to unbuckle herself to reach you. “babe, what are you doing?”
“uh, i’m so fucking pent up, gotta fuck. can we pull over?” she tugged on your arm, making the car veer slightly off the road.
“n-no, baby, i can’t. gotta get farther so they won’t find us, m’kay?” jules slung her arms around your neck, smacking wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pulse points. “c-can it wait?”
“no, need you now, baby.” she groaned, slipping one hand up your shirt, and the other into your shorts.
two of her fingers quickly slipped inside you, her other hand busying itself with kneading your breasts over your bra, while her lips mashed kisses all along your jaw and throat.
“f-fuck, baby!” you moaned, trying to focus on staying on the right side of the road, a task that was growing increasingly difficult by the minute under her ministrations.
you tried to keep your eyes open to make sure you stayed on the road, but suddenly the vehicle started losing momentum. much to your horror, you heard the engine start to sputter out as the car slowed to a stop.
“no, no, no, no, no, no! fuck!” you cried out, throwing your head back against the headrest.
jules head suddenly shot up, cocking to the side in confusion. “why’d we stop?”
you slammed your hands against the wheel in frustration. “we ran out of fucking gas.”
jules sat up in her seat, gaze sympathetic. “but we just robbed a-”
“i know, i know, i know! fuck!” you panicked, your heart beating faster and faster.
“hey, hey, it’s okay, we’ll just find another car.” she suggested optimistically.
“yeah, we’ll just find another car, just sitting outside with a full tank and keys in the ignition.” you exclaimed sarcastically. “fuck!” you rung your head in your hands, stepping out of the car to pace around.
jules came up behind you, holding your shoulders in a vice and clamping a hand over your mouth to stop your rambling. she placed a soft kiss on your forehead and sat down on the road.
“come down here, girlie.” she beckoned to you, looking calm as ever.
“what? no! julie, baby, we don’t have time for this, we gotta-” a sudden buzz of anxiety shot through you and you continued to pace, frantically gesturing with your hands.
“no, we gotta calm down first so we can think. sit down here with me.” ever the rational one, you decided to listen to her. “you know what? lay back, i’m gonna give you a car wash.”
“what? this isn’t really th-” you protested, but she slowly pushed your back to the ground and climbed onto your lap.
jules swept her blonde locks gently across your face, only pausing when she felt your heart rate slow. you opened your eyes, looking up at her brown ones like she hung the stars in the sky.
“i love you.” she grinned down at you, watching in awe as her hair framed your face so beautifully.
you smiled as she gave you a soft kiss.
“i know.”
she leaned back onto your thighs, squinting her eyes at something in the distance. “hey, look!”
you grabbed her waist, sitting up and angling your head to see what she was pointing at. you noticed it: a blue mailbox, standing out vibrantly against the warm tones of the fallen leaves.
“baby, those eyes!” you giggled, mashing your lips against hers. “you’re like a hawk! hawk woman!”
jules leaned back, laughing, and let out a hawk call.
you grabbed the bag, the crowbar, and the gun, and made your way towards the promising house.
***********
i’m kinda proud of this ngl i love the concept 🥰 this is gonna be 5 parts long, and i’ll release it every other week (if everything goes according to plan ofc)
also, if you like this, please let me know if you want to be tagged! i don’t really know any accounts that write for/stan jules, so i’m only tagging two people!
tags: @emmyrosee @flowers-in-your-hayr
#jules#jules villains#jules x reader#jules oneshot#jules imagine#jules fic#jules fanfic#jules fanfiction#villains#villains 2019#maika monroe#maika monroe character#my writing
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like A Switch
Fandom: Marvel (Truck Driver AU - The Usual Stop Universe)
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader
As requested by anonymous: Would you be willing to write something with chubby!Bucky where he discovers he really likes being called “sir”? + Ooh I love chubby Bucky so much! Enjoy your holiday!!!! May I request something where chubby!Buck seems a little shy in bed at first and maybe self conscious and you say something that kinda flips a switch and he’s totally dominant and confident? Like maybe saying “sir” or something? + @feelmyroarrrr ‘s request: Bucky takes her on a weekend away And the 3nd up doing hardly any sightseeing as the hotel bedroom is just too inviting
Warning: smut
A/N: Read “The Usual Stop” here!
“A vacation?” you look at Bucky curiously as you’re laying on the bed of a motel off the road in Oregon.
Bucky nodded. He sat up against the headboard, with a shirt and his boxers. He set a hand on your arm, “You okay with that? Going on a vacation? With me?” Bucky loved you, there was no doubt about that. But because of his job and the way he looked, people didn’t see him as important or attractive. You’ve made it very clear with him that you loved him just as much, but Bucky was always afraid that you’d figure out this isn’t what you want, that he isn’t what you want.
You sat up on the bed and crawled over to Bucky, straddling his lap and resting your hands on his shoulders, “Of course I’m okay with it, Buck. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Wherever you are, I wanna be. Whether it’s on the road or some beach in Florida. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”
Bucky smiled at you with that same fondness in his eyes that you always see. He tapped his lips with his fingers, “Gimme some love, baby.”
You giggled, “Yes, sir,” and closed the distance by pressing your lips to his.
Bucky grabs a hold of your waist, pulling you in closer, deepening the kiss. You began to grind down onto his crotch and he could feel himself getting hard, but he had to stop. He needed to stop.
He pulled away with a sad sigh, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” this has happened before. When things were starting to get hot and heavy, Bucky halted everything. He wanted to have sex with you, he really did. He was just afraid. He was afraid that you’d look at his stomach and see how he’s not a guy you should be with and you’d leave him. He explained this the first time it happened and since then, your response is always, “Don’t be. Whenever you’re ready.”
It made him feel even more like crap because you’d get all riled up just to end up being disappointed. Bucky wasn’t a virgin or anything. He’s had his fair share of one night stands and the likes. But this was different. He loved you so much and the thought of you leaving him because of how he looked...he couldn’t take it.
You pressed a gentle to kiss to his lips, “Don’t be sorry, Buck. I’m the one who should be sorry. I got excited,” you have a little chuckle and then climbed off his lap, “Let’s get some sleep, ya? All that needs to be done tomorrow is drop off the trailer and we’re home bound.”
You shimmied yourself under the blankets after turning off the bedside light, “Goodnight, babe. I love you.”
Bucky sighed as he slid into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “Goodnight, I love you too.”
___________________
The hotel Bucky chose sat right before a beach. The sea breeze blowing through the balcony door. It wasn’t fancy or anything, but it sure beat the small motels that you were both used to staying at.
You stood on the balcony, soaking up the sun. Your eyes closed and the sunlight beaming down on you. You looked like a goddess.
You hear a familiar click and the sound of a photo developing. You turned around to see Bucky with his polaroid camera in hand, already shaking the photo to develop.
He gave a shrug of the shoulders, a smile painted on his lips, “You just looked like the most beautiful sight ever, I had to take a picture of ya.”
You giggled and sauntered over to him, your hands resting on his chest and you kissed his nose, “Can I see?” he handed it to you and slowly the color was coming to the picture. It was definitely a pretty picture. The way that the sun shined down on you gave a glowing effect, “I really like this one.”
Bucky hummed, “Put in your album then.”
You nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” You’ve been saying that phrase a lot lately, Bucky’s noticed. He’s also noticed that every time you’ve said, his pants suddenly get a bit tight around the crotch area.
No surprise, he looked down and saw a prominent bulge in his pants. He silently cursed because of how much you and your words affect him, even without you knowing it.
“Buck, I’m gonna take a shower. Get all the roadtrip sweat off me.”
He nodded, “Y-Yeah, sweetheart, you go ahead. I’ll just get a comfortable.” he waited until you went into the bathroom and heard the shower turn on. He then quickly undressed himself, laying on top of the bed in just his boxers. He freed his cock and fuck was he hard.
He gripped his shaft, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling. He closed his eyes and began to imagine you naked, straddling his lap. You looked so beautiful as you rode him. Your y/e/c eyes baring down at him, your lips red from the biting and kissing, your neck covered in his love bites.
“You feel so good, Bucky. You fill me up so good,” you’d whimper.
“Fuck yeah, baby. Ride me harder, I know you want more. Take it all, sweet girl.” you’d smirk at the notion and move your hips faster, rocking on his cock hard and rough. His hands gripping at your waist, so hard you’d probably have nail indents on your skin. But you didn’t care.
“My naughty little girl, aren’t ya? You my naughty girl, Y/N?”
You’d nod and moan out a “Yes, I’m your naughty girl.” Just the image of your face filled with absolute, pleasurable bliss was bringing Bucky to the edge. His hand quickly pumping his cock. He could feel the pleasure building up and-
“Need some help?” his eyes shot open and there you were standing in front of the bed, clad in your bra and panties, hair still dripping from your shower.
“Y/N, I-uh,” he quickly grabbed his shirt and covered his crotch, “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t-”
“Bucky,” you crawled onto the bed and towards him, causing him to gulp, “It’s okay. I’ll admit, I’ve rubbed one off in the shower thinking about you too many times to count.”
He groaned, “Why you gotta tell me that?” his cock twitching under his shirt.
You giggled, “Buck, I don’t wanna rush you or force you into anything, but aren’t you tired of pulling away whenever things get heated between us?”
“Yes, God, yes. I am it’s just..I just...it’s been a while since I’ve had sex and I really love you and all, but I’m not, ya know, the best lookin’, sweetheart.”
You snorted, “Bucky, watching you lay here completely naked and jerking yourself off was probably one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. And honestly, I’ve been aching for you so much. I want you, Bucky, all of you. Heart, body, and soul.”
“But my-”
“James Buchanan Barnes, you listen to me right now: you are the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Okay? And more often than not I think about riding the hell outta you.”
Bucky choked on his own spit when you said that, “You-wha-I-” he pauses and take a breath, “Straddle my lap, baby girl,” his voice going down an octave, his eyes now hard and looking right into yours.
You smile excitedly as you pull his shirt from his crotch, throwing it over your shoulder, and crawling onto his lap. Already, you begin to find some friction, rubbing your pussy against his hard cock, which earned you a slap to the ass.
“Did I say you could do that, princess?”
You bit your lip as you shook your head, “No, sir.”
His jaw clenched and he licked his lips, “You do exactly what I say, got it?”
You nodded, “Yes, sir.”
Bucky growled as he wrapped one arm around you, pulling you closer, “Atta girl. Now, play with yourself. Get that pussy nice and wet for me.”
You whimpered as your hand slid to your pussy, rubbing against that sensitive nub. You could feel your walls slicken with your arousal. Bucky’s hand wrapped around his cock again, pumping it to a pace that matches your own.
“Fuck, honey, you look so goddamn pretty like this. ‘M sorry it took me so long to do this.”
You shook your head and leaned in, pressing a reassuring kiss to his lips, “Stop apologizing. I love you and I’d wait days, months, or years for you.”
Bucky moans as you start to jut your hips forward, letting your clit drag along his hard cock, “I think that’s enough teasing now, don’t you, sugar?”
“Please, sir, fuck me? I’m ready and aching for you.”
Bucky grabbed your hips and rolled you onto your back. He took your wrists pinning them to both sides of your face, “You keep your hands right there, sweetness. Don’t you dare move ‘em, you hear me?”
You nod, “Yes, sir.” God, Bucky doesn’t think he could get tired of hearing that.
He takes his hardened length into his hand, and starts to rub his tip along your slit and down your slick, his pre-cum colliding with your own juices. He glides himself up and down, teasing your entrance a little bit more, “You ready for me, baby girl?”
“Pleas, sir. Ready for you.”
With ease, he slides into you causing you to gasp and him grunt in satisfaction. He wasn’t all the way in yet and you already felt so snug around him, “Fucking hell, Y/N.”
“C’mon, Bucky,” your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer and pushing him further into you, “More.” And with a quick thrust, he filled you whole.
He stayed there for a moment, allowing yourself to adjust to him, “Lemme know when you’re ready, sweetness.”
You nodded, “I’m good.”
And without hesitation, Bucky thrust into you again. His arms had him propped up, his round stomach pressing against your pubic with every snap of his hips. You always found Bucky attractive, but right now, in this moment as he loses himself in the pleasure, he looks the most attractive he’s ever been. Naked and bare for you taking what he wants, taking what you haven given to him so willingly with so much trust and love.
“God, baby! You feel like absolute Heaven!” he groans.
Your fists clench beside you as you so desperately want to touch Bucky, to hold him. But your hands remain there because, you gotta admit, this more dominant side of him is really fucking hot.
One of his hands leaves your side as it runs down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and to your pussy. His thumb rubbing circles around your clit to the pace of his thrusts. You were feeling hot then, now, you’re on fire.
You let out the most sinful moan that Bucky’s ever heard and he loves it. He loves that you’re falling apart because of him. So he continues. He fucks you and he stimulates your clit all the while he’s getting off himself. And on top of that, he’s admiring you, taking in every perfection and flaw to your face. Watching you with hooded eyes as you stare up at him, lips red and puckered from the kissing and biting. A sheen of sweat starting to shroud your body. You’re a mess, but you’re his mess, his beautiful, wonderful, loving, sexy, mess.
“Sir, let me touch you, please. Wanna touch you.”
Bucky grits his teeth as he feels your walls clench onto him. He gives a nod, “Alright, baby. You can touch me.”
Your hands immediately fly forward, pulling Bucky down for a searing kiss, one that he moans into. His thrusts never falter. He removes his hand from your clit and leans forward more, deepening the kiss and pushing himself further into you. He grabs onto the pillow underneath you, gripping it hard. He feels himself coming closer to the edge. He thinks you might be too, but he’s too clouded by the pleasure.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he murmurs against your lips, “Gonna-” he pulls out just in time for his seed to shoot onto your mound and stomach with a loud animalistic groan, his hand stroking himself fast and hard for every last drop. He’s panting heavy and he wants to lie down, but not before you’ve had yours.
His fingers replace his cock, pumping two into you while his other hands works at your nub.
You hold onto the sheets beneath you for dear life as you cry out for Bucky, begging him to make you cum on his fingers, “Baby! Oh fuck, sir! Please, please, please! Right there! Shit!” you cry out one last time as your orgasm hits you full blown. Your back arches off the bed and your eyes are shut tight. Your mouth is open, a high shrill of pleasure emitting from it as Bucky’s fingers continue to help you ride through your climax. He finally relents when your body collapses back onto the bed looking limp and completely exhausted.
With a proud smile, Bucky lays on his side next to you. His arm propping up his head as he looks at you, “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on that sight for this long.”
Through your post-orgasmic haze, you giggled, “I think it was worth it though.”
He hums in agreement, “I think so too.”
You then slowly roll out of bed, walking around confidently, naked as the day you was born, “We should shower and get dressed. You said you wanted to check out that restaurant a couple blocks away, right?”
Bucky immediately sits up, “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think we’re leaving this room at all.”
You look at him confusedly, “What do you-”
“Now that I got a taste of ya, I don’t think I ever wanna stop.” you see that lustful gaze in him again and you see that he’s starting to get hard once more.
You smirked, arms crossed over your chest, “I think I may have turned you into a sex fiend, Barnes.”
“Well, maybe you should c’mere and find out,” he says with a mischievous grin. And in no time, you’re going for round two because now Bucky just can’t seem to get enough of you.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#marvel#au#smut#truck driver au#chubby!bucky
942 notes
·
View notes
Note
103 with Larry and Freddy pleaaase you're absolutely amazing akdhakhka
Taco date time you said? Taco date time it is.
thank you for the prompt! I wanted to give the story the feel of a scene from the movie; it took a lot of reading the script to get a hold of White’s talking, some research and youtube watching, and a bit of brazenly stealing someone else’s anecdotes (more about that at the end). enjoy!
103. “Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.” + Freddy/Larry
“I'm hungry. Let's get a taco.”
White starts the ignition and drives off the curb, and Freddy has to laugh because who the fuck talks about smashing noses and cutting off fingers and the next second thinks about eating tacos. But the truth is Freddy has met a lot of guys like that, who feed on violence and live off it, guys who will pick up a black guy on the street just because he looked at them funny, carry him to the station with some bullshit excuse and beat him up in the interrogation room; guys who won't take a woman's domestic violence claim just because her husband's a cop too. He doesn't have to think too hard about it for White to seem tender in comparison. And the thing is, he is. White is one of the gentlest men he's ever known, with his perfect manners and his soft smiles and his lighter out every time Freddy puts a cigarette on his lips. He's tough too, Freddy knows, because he's seen him talking with Joe and has heard his stories, and he hasn't seen him angry (doesn't want to) but he knows you've got to be tough if you want to survive as a career criminal. But never with Freddy, and that's more than most people have done for him.
“Now, everybody reacts differently to finding themselves in a robbery,” White’s using that same educational tone again, gesturing with the hand that holds his cigarette. “Some people scream, some people laugh, some cry, some curse you out… you gotta learn to read people, you know? Be aware at all times of the situation around you, know who’s gonna try to give you any trouble. And not only do you gotta control the people, you gotta control yourself. Robbing a place will get your adrenaline off the charts, so you gotta control your emotions, learn how to act so when you come into the place they don’t think ‘Hey, what’s this guy up to?’”
Freddy’s staring at White while he drives, his mouth hanging slightly open. The more the man talks, the more entranced he feels. He’s eager to listen because he doesn’t want to fuck up the job, true, and he wants to learn as much as he can from White because Holdaway’s told him to pick up anything that might be useful, but there’s something else. Something about the way he talks, the way he looks at him sideways to catch Freddy’s reaction to his words, that makes Freddy unable to stop looking. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s gotta be the most attractive man he’s seen in a while.
“Here we are.” White stops the car in front of a small, shabby-looking Mexican place, with sun-bleached paint coming off the colorful sign (La tasca del Frijolito, it says) and a few metal chairs and tables under a parasol in the sidewalk in front of it. They walk inside and the old Mexican woman behind the bar greets White with a huge grin and a few words in Spanish.
“Hola guapetón, ¿otra vez por aquí? Y vienes bien acompañado...” She looks over at Freddy without losing her smile. White laughs and nods.
“Hola, Carmen.” He gives the dirty laminated menu a look. “Uuuh… I think I'll have a taco Salvaje.” He tries to give it a Mexican accent.
“Muy bien. ¿Y el cuate?”
White turns to him. “What'll you have, kid?”
Freddy shrugs. “Same as you.”
“You sure about that? It's spicy.”
Freddy gives him an easy smile and leans on the counter. “I think I'll handle myself.”
White laughs and shakes his head. “Suit yourself. And you want fries with that?”
“Nah, I'm good.”
“Yeah?” White lifts a brow. “I won't share mine if you want fries later.”
Freddy shakes his head and casually taps the bar with his hands. “I'm not that hungry.”
“Okay. So… two tacos Salvajes and fries for one. To go”
“Marchando.” The lady turns around and starts shouting in Spanish at an impossible speed through the kitchen window behind the counter.
“To go? Where are we going?”
“We're going back to the store, kid. We're casing the place, we don't have time to go on dates.”
Freddy turns his head away trying to compose a scowl, but he's a little embarrassed, pretty sure he could be blushing right now. From the corner of his eye he can see White is smirking.
The lady comes back a few minutes later with a brown paper bag that smells amazingly, and as Freddy reaches for his wallet White lifts an arm to stop him. “Don't worry kid, it's on me.” Damn fucking gallant crook.
“At least let me get the tip.”
“Nah. It’s taken care of.” He leaves a big tip too.
They go back to the car and drive away, and Freddy feels the need to ask a question just so he can keep hearing White talking. “So what happens if someone wants to come in?”
“Well, since you're already outside, you tell ‘em it’s closed, turn that son of a bitch right away, As I said, you always gotta be in control of the situation. If we didn't have you outside that'd be another thing. You know, I got a funny story about that.” While White drives he reaches over and puts a hand down the bag that's resting in Freddy's lap, takes the fries out of it. Freddy gets a nervous rush out of it. White puts the fries in the drink holder between the two seats, starts munching on them as he speaks.
“So... jewelry store in Florida, right near the beach, very busy place, right? People coming and going all the time. But I cased the place and found out the least busy hours, so when the time’s right I come into the store, tie the clerks down, get my partner in, got a guy in the back door of the place waiting with a car, all good. We're cleaning the place out when an old couple comes in, rings the door buzzer. Now, what can I do? They've already seen there's people inside.”
Seeing the fries has made Freddy hungry, so he takes his taco out and takes a big bite. White wasn't lying when he said it was spicy, but he doesn't want him to say 'I told you', so he has to fight back the tears. And while he's busy speaking, he takes his chance and casually takes a fry or two.
“So I let them in, go over there and open my jacket to show them my gun.” They're stopped in a red light so White opens one side of his jacket with one hand and makes a gun with the fingers of the other, gestures like he's showing his hidden gun under there. Freddy eats a few more fries in between bites of his taco.
“And I say to 'em, 'Hey, you're in on a robbery' and they go 'Oh, oh no, were gonna-'” White puts his right hand on the air defensively and looks comically terrified. “And I said 'No, no, no, no,'” he shakes his hand in an assuring way. “I tell them 'Just come over here, sit over here. Look at that wall. Yes ma'am, look at that wall. Don't move, and when I leave you have to wait ten minutes. I'm gonna check! So just don't move.' Didn't tie them or anything...”
They're back in front of the diamond's place and White looks over at Freddy with raised brows as he kills the engine.
“Now, kid, you think you're being subtle or something? I'm not blind, so stop eating my fries.”
White puts a menacing finger up, but he's smiling when he takes the brown bag from Freddy and takes out his own taco. Freddy smiles trying to mirror the man's charm. “Sorry.”
White hums with delight after the first bite.
“Hmm, this shit's delicious. So anyway, we do the robbery, and I go to the back to give my partner the signal. But the son of a bitch doesn't come around right away! I don't know if he saw someone or what, but when me and my partner come out of the store with our bags full of jewels the car isn't there. So now I have to go back into the place, and when I pass by I tell the old couple, ‘I’m just checking you!’, and it was so funny, they go…” White puts again on the comically scared face. “‘No, no, we’re not moving!”
Freddy starts smirking amused, and that gets a smile out of White too. He takes another fry.
“So I go in the back again, give my guy another call (‘C’mon, you asshole!’), he comes around, picks me up and we’re outta there in a flash. And listen to this: the next day the old couple are interviewed in the paper, and it said: ‘Oh, he was a nice man!’ I’d just stolen seventy grand and they thought I was a nice man! Because I knew how to deal with the situation.”
By the end of the story Freddy's grinning and giggling like an idiot, not only because it is a funny story, but because Larry told it with such enthusiasm, like he's trying to impress him. And he is impressed, because he never thought a robber could be so charming. One more fry goes into his mouth.
Larry tries to sound serious as he talks next, but he’s also laughing:
“I’m warning you boy; I like you,” he likes me, “but if you don’t stop eating my fries…”
“What do you care? You’ve got a lot of fries.”
White takes the paper basket away and puts it close to his chest. “They’re my fries, so I care a lot.”
“Well…” Freddy’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, and he’s pronouncing the words slowly, blinking, trying to work up his appeal. “Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.”
Next thing he’s stretching himself across the seats to snatch the fries, as White laughs and tries to push him away.
***
Notes:
I’m not nearly imaginative enough to have come up with that great “Nice robber” story. It was shamelessly robbed borrowed (as well as some of White's tips) from Larry Lawton. He is an ex-career criminal who turned FBI advisor after doing 12 years in jail. He’s got a youtube channel where he talks about his life and crimes.
Dialogue in Spanish:
“Hola guapetón, ¿otra vez por aquí? Y vienes bien acompañado...” - “Hello handsome, here again? And with good company…”
“Muy bien. ¿Y el cuate?” - “Very good, and your friend?”
“Marchando.” - “Coming.”
#creamsicle#larry/freddy#ficlet#fic#my writing#thatsanswitch#reservoir dogs#mr orange#mr white#freddy newandyke
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Life In The Fast Lane
Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You, Non-Apocalyptic AU
Rating: Explicit, NSFW
Warnings: Language, daddy kink, unprotected sex, car sex, vaginal sex, mild rough sex, hair pulling (mild), biting (mild), mention of bodily fluids
Word Count: 3.5K
Summary: You and Negan decide to head south when things take a turn, threatening both of your lives.
A/N: This is for Negan’s Warm Weather Writing Challenge hosted by @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. I chose the prompt road trip. I’ve had this planned for months, but it was definitely not cooperating when it came time to type up. I really took it down to the wire with this, but I finished it in time so YAY! The title is from the Eagles song, which gave me the inspiration for this piece. And the lyrics in the beginning are from another Eagles song called “One of these nights”. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like Negan would definitely be into some Eagles. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and let me know what you think!
PS-Tense is a real fucking bitch.
Masterlist link in bio.
***
One of these nights
One of these crazy old nights
We’re gonna find out, pretty mama,
What turns on your lights
Music is playing softly from the other room as you apply the last of your makeup. Your eyes scan the planes of your perfectly made-up face, ensuring not an eyelash is out of place. The strands of your impeccably styled hair shine in the light of the vanity. Your gaze continues to your carefully crafted outfit. The white sleeveless dress and open-toed nude heels make for a powerful combination. You finish off the look with the pair of diamond studs that had recently been gifted to you. You admire them lovingly in the reflective glass, smiling at the way they glint in the light.
Every detail is a part of a bigger plan. There are a lot of eyes watching you now and you have to be careful about how you portray yourself. Your life depends on it. And you had no problem playing the part. You were more than willing to sell the picture of luxury.
The opening and closing of the hotel room door makes you smile, the identity of the visitor already known. You continue to fuss with your appearance, standing to appraise the full ensemble.
“Doll?” A deep voice penetrates the air, sending shivers down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You’ll never tire of those feelings.
“Back here.” You call, splashing drops of perfume on your wrists and neck.
A dark figure leans into the doorway, an intense stare meeting yours in the mirror. He smiles wolfishly, his teeth on full display as he bites into his bottom lip. You can’t help but to copy his actions, eyeing him with the same lust-filled gaze. Your eyes sweep over his body, pleased by the dark slacks and black shirt he’s chosen to wear. He looks like the greatest pleasure and the darkest sin combined.
“Well, don’t you look ravishing.” He licks his lips, accentuating his point. The comment makes you blush and laugh at the same time; a clash of young girl and woman.
You turn to face him, your backside resting against the counter as he walks towards you. You arch an eyebrow up at him as he scratches at the thick stubble on his chiseled jaw, the dark hair mixed with areas of gray. The facial hair is a new and calculated addition on his part. The blend of youth and age gives him a distinguished look, but the wicked grin that spreads across his lips says otherwise.
His arms immediately pull you against him, the warmth from his body seeping into yours. “You look like you belong with the angels in Heaven. All you need is a halo and a set of wings.” He teases, the timber in his voice making you squeeze your thighs together.
“Well…” You start, eyes meeting his while your hands toy with the buttons on his shirt. “They wouldn’t let me through the pearly gates…I sleep in the Devil’s bed now.”
He laughs as he speaks, hazel eyes dancing with mirth. “Is that so, baby girl?” His hand comes to rest on your ass, the action making you warm from the inside out.
You nod, continuing the game you both started. The result of which usually ends in mind-blowing sex.
“I know this bastard who’s bed you’re sharing?” He asks, thick fingers digging into your hips as he presses further against you.
“He goes by Negan. Ever heard of him?” You move closer into his space, ready to touch his lips to yours. You see his eyes dart to your mouth, his eagerness taking over as well.
“Yeah, handsome son of a bitch. And hung like a horse.”
You smirk, unable to refute his own characterization of himself. Both observations are very true. And he knows it.
“You’re gonna have to reintroduce me to that last one.” You whisper breathlessly. You hear him groan in response, his crotch rubbing against your stomach hungrily.
“Gladly, baby girl. But not right now.”
You whimper in protest, not used to being denied. He puts space in between your bodies, breaking the mood.
“Don’t pout,” Negan admonishes. “Daddy will fuck you ten ways to Sunday when we finally get the fuck outta this fucking place. We gotta hit the road.”
You sigh, admitting defeat because you know he’s was right. If you want to make it to Florida, you had to get on the road.
“Any news from Simon?” You ask, allowing him to release you so that you could pack up the last of your belongings.
Negan nods, taking the smaller toiletry bags you handed him. “Yeah, he says Blake is still singing like a fucking canary. All while throwing my fucking ass under the bus.”
You both move around the room in unison as you gather your luggage and belongings, preparing for the trip ahead.
“I still can’t believe Phillip Blake turned on you like that. Rotten son of a bitch.” You bite out, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
Two months was all it took. The downfall of Governor Inc. happened suddenly and rapidly during that time. Everyone began to jump ship when rumors of a high level investigation became a reality. And everyone began to take sides…Phillip Blake, owner and CEO of said company. Or Negan, co-owner and business partner to said CEO. Many chose the side that offered the least amount of backlash and repercussions. Unfortunately, most didn’t realize it was a set up. Phillip Blake had sold most of his employees out, including Negan. The man was guilty of many of heinous crimes and he’d framed Negan for embezzlement. The feds came knocking soon after.
The aftermath of such a shocking scandal had hit hard. The story was front page for weeks in Alexandria, even making it to some of the major national news circuits. Negan had suffered greatly, even being arrested for a short time. You had been Negan’s assistant turned lover when the story broke. When the sky started to fall, you decided on the only choice that made sense at the time. You stayed. And you helped Negan in any way you could. You devoted your life to him, and in return he was going to give you a new one. A new life away from Alexandria.
“Yeah, well he’s a twisted motherfucker. Doesn’t give a damn about anyone but his fucking self.” Negan grumbles, the topic making his face turn sour.
You move towards him and catch his hand, offering comfort in the only way you know how. He seems to realize your intent because his face instantly softens, the gruffness of his expression now smoothed out.
“We’ll get through this, baby.”
He nods, a large hand cupping your cheek at the same moment. The pull is instinctual as you both move closer together, lips only inches apart.
“You’re too good to me.” He whispers against your lips before he’s capturing them in a breathtaking kiss. His hands tangle in your hair while yours grips at his shirt and biceps. You can feel the way your body submits to him. Its been that way from the beginning. Your connection with Negan was immediate and passionate…the flame showing no signs of dying out any time soon.
“Alright, as much as I’d love to fuck you for the billionth time on this fucking bed,” He gestures to the massive mattress to your back. “We gotta get a move on.”
“I’ll get my bags. You get the car?”
Negan nods and releases himself from your arms, but not before pinching your ass. You yelp and he only winks at you, his lean frame already heading for the door.
***********
“So how long is this drive again?”
You roll up your window in Negan’s black Range Rover, your hips shifting in the seat as you make yourself comfortable for the trip.
“About fourteen hours, give or take.”
You nod and are just about to try and convince Negan to let you drive when his cell phone goes off, the speakers of the vehicle alerting the passengers to the call.
“It’s Simon.” He notes, moving to press the Bluetooth button on his steering wheel. You nod in response, eager to hear what the investigator has to say.
“Simon, what kind of fucking news you got this time?”
“Its good. Better than my last phone call.”
“I’m all fucking ears.”
“Blake is still blaming everyone but himself. But, there’s a lot more people willing to vouch for you than him. And we may be able to prove that he was the one that cooked the books and not you. Michonne is working on it.”
“How is my very expensive lawyer doing? Haven’t spoken to her recently.” Negan asks, his tone light despite the heaviness of the situation.
“She’s working around the clock. Grimes is really trying to trip her up, but she’s taking the hits like a champ. Doesn’t like you much though.”
The comment makes both you and Negan laugh. Not many people did like Negan. And that worked in his favor. He had a very small inner circle; one that was very difficult to infiltrate. Simon was a close and long-time friend to Negan, who just so happened to have an ear to the investigation about him and Phillip Blake.
“I pay her to represent me. Not fucking like me.”
Simon’s laughter echoes throughout the cab of the car. “Touché.”
“And what about Dwight? That greasy fucker still acting as Blake’s fucking puppet?”
You listen intently to Simon’s response, interested to know what was becoming of one of Negan’s most trusted employees. Dwight had turned on Negan hard and fast, and the man was relentless in his pursuit of taking him down. The exact reason was unknown to most, but rumors swirled that it had something to do with Dwight’s ex-wife.
“Yeah, he’s staying loyal to Blake. But his accusations are about as sturdy as Styrofoam. Michonne will punch holes in his story left and right.”
Negan visibly relaxes at Simon’s words, his hand loosening its white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
“Good. That is fucking good news. Thanks for the insight.”
“No problem, man. I’ll keep you posted. You let me know when you make it to Miami.”
“Of course.”
And with that, the conversation was ended.
You hum at the news, glad that a pile of shit hadn’t been delivered like so many times before. The car ride was too long to have to marinate over the sudden downturn of both of your lives.
“So, not bad…” You trail off, unsure of what Negan’s thoughts are about the call. His face is expressionless and gives you no clue into what’s going on in his head.
“Yeah, better than I expected.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just ready for this to be fucking done. Everyone seems to have a hard-on for me. Especially that fucker Grimes.”
“It’ll be over soon. Miami will take our mind off of it all for a while.” You run a hand through the hair at the base of his neck, feeling him relax instantly.
He chuckles at your words, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “You ready for Daddy to show you how the other half lives?”
You smile, moving as close as your seatbelt and the center console allows. “Of course.”
Negan had decided to take a much needed respite from the current controversies and head to Miami Beach. It was a place that held a lot of memories for him and he was eager to introduce you to the life he led there. It was his idea to make it a road trip and you’d happily agreed.
Some in the investigation would say you were on the run. Others would say he was simply handling himself and any other matters that needed tending to. You knew it for what it was. A new life. And if things went real sour…new identities.
“So what are we gonna do in Miami?” You adjust the sunglasses perched on your nose as Negan accelerates onto the highway. The sun is starting to set and the last of the day’s light are reflecting off the all black interior of the car.
“All of it. And then some.” He replies devilishly. His hand reaches out to clasp your thigh through the fabric of your dress. It’s an innocent enough gesture, but you know Negan and nothing should ever be taken at face value with him.
“I can’t wait until we get there.”
“Don’t worry…before long we’ll be sitting pretty on the beach sipping those drinks with the stupid umbrella shit in them.”
“Sex on the beach?”
“Yeah babe, any kind of drink you want.” He assures with a nod.
“Wasn’t talking about the drink, babe.” You reply coyly, loving the way he smirks back at you. He shifts his hips and your eyes immediately go to the center, zeroing in on the appendage just beyond the zipper.
“Someone’s feeling frisky.” Negan’s eyebrows shoot up and again he looks like the real-life version of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood. He looks as if he wants to devour you. You feel that rush of arousal that always seems to accompany you while with him. You welcome it. You embrace it. You feel yourself ready to beg for it.
As much as Negan likes to act as if everything is under control with his pending case, you know the ship could sink any day. You and him would be pulled under, never to resurface. It’s this sentiment that drives you. It’s this feeling that has you leaning over and nibbling at his ear, your hand cupping the fast-hardening flesh beneath his slacks.
“Pull over.” You demand softly as you take off your sunglasses and lean into his body, teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh of his neck. He groans, the sound making your thighs clench in familiar anticipation.
“That bad, baby girl? You need me that bad?” His voice has already gone down an octave, signaling his own arousal. It’s a sign you’ve already won.
“Yes…” You reply, unashamed of your desire for him.
“Fuck.”
You unbutton his pants and slide your hand under the waistband of his underwear. His flesh is warm and hard and desperate for touch. You oblige and maneuver your hand in the way he loves so much. You can feel yourself become wetter with each passing second. His grunts and groans only spur you on, his hands gripping the wheel hard as he pulls off into an abandoned rest area.
“Goddamit, I can’t fucking concentrate with your hand on my dick like that.” It’s a compliment disguised as a complaint. You smirk as you unbuckle your seatbelt and shift your lace panties off your hips.
“You love it.” You tease as he parks the car. His seatbelt is already off as he pulls you across the console and into his lap. He adjusts his seat back, allowing you more room. You feel the adrenaline and lust pooling deep in your belly, the combination almost making you feel dizzy. Negan makes you feel like this. No other man has ever come close and you don’t ever want to lose it. The danger, passion, obsession…all of it. You want it all and you want it forever.
“Fuck doll, you weren’t fucking kidding.” He moans as you rub yourself sensuously on his now free cock. His head is thrown back against the seat as you tease him. His calloused hands unbutton the few buttons needed to expose your bra-clad breasts. It’s your turn to moan as he pushes the lace material aside, your nipples rubbing deliciously against the rough skin of his palm.
“God, yes…”
His mouth descends on a hardened nipple and he uses just the right amount of suction to make your toes curl. The sensation is almost painful and you pull harshly at his hair in response. You both got off on the pain and this time was no exception.
“Shit that feels fucking good.” He moans lowly.
You aren’t sure what he’s referring to specifically, but you don’t care. He pulls your mouth to his and consumes you. His tongue invades your mouth. His hands tangle in your hair. His hips thrust upwards to seek out the solace of your soaked channel. You fight to keep up your pace. You grip his shoulders and push back against him, your teeth biting at his lower lip.
“Ride me, baby girl.” Negan growls against your throat. You don’t waste any more time. You rise up on your knees and let him hold himself while you sink down. The sound of your bodies joining fills the car and it makes your walls clasp at him that much tighter.
“Holy fuck…” He grunts, the signs of his end already showing. “You gotta move, baby.”
You had taken him in you slowly, but you change your pace at the pure want and desperation in his voice. Your hips bounce, your ass grazing the steering wheel as you chase that blissful high. Negan’s fingertips are gripping at the flesh of your hips and ass as he bites at your nipples. You squeak when he bites down too hard.
“Careful.” You warn, your pace never faltering.
“You liked it. Felt that pretty pussy squeeze me after.” He teases. He knows what that kind of talk does to you. You’re a fan of his dirty talk. The action is an art and Negan is a master.
“Fuck…” You moan as he pistons his hips upwards. He hits deep and the sensation makes you cling to him, turning the reigns over to his more than capable hands.
The summer heat is making its way into the interior of the car. The air in the cab is hot and sticky and you can feel your skin start to prickle with sweat. You ignore it all and allow Negan to impale you time and time again, his cock almost too much and not quite enough.
“Cum for me, baby. Let me feel that pussy suck me in.” A thick digit lands on your clit and you throw your head back at the rush of pleasure.
“Look at that cream…”
You look down upon hearing his words. You take in the sight of your body swallowing him and the remnants of your arousal on his cock. Its erotic and enough to push you further towards your finish line.
“Fuck, Negan…” You whimper as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy. It does the trick. Your muscles start to tense and spasm as you ride wave after wave of your orgasm. Negan’s hands keep you firmly seated on his cock as you gyrate above him. His lips are sucking hungrily at your neck as you moan out his name like a hymn.
He isn’t far behind you. It takes him only two more pumps and a growl before he is emptying himself inside of you, his face buried in your breasts while you stroke his hair. You soak up the feeling of his essence filling you and painting your walls. You can feel errant streaks already starting to leak out between the two of you, but you barely have the energy to care.
“Motherfucking fuck. That was hot as shit.”
You laugh as he wipes at the sweat on his brow, the steady up and down of his chest filling you with a sense of pride. The power you have over someone as powerful as Negan makes you smug as fuck.
“Literally and figuratively.” You retort as you roll down his window to let the breeze sweep through the car. The stench of sex will take a minute to leave, but the cool air feels refreshing on your overheated skin.
“You ready to hit the road for real this fucking time?”
You can tell he’s joking, despite the serious look on his face.
“You really trying to reprimand me with your dick still inside me?” You fire back, a seductive smirk planted firmly on your lips.
He laughs and the action causes his body to shake both beneath and in you. You shiver and hiss at the oversensitivity of your body.
“At this rate we won’t get to Florida until next fucking week.”
You encircle his neck with your arms, content to bask in the afterglow as long as he’ll let you.
“Fine by me.” You whisper against his lips. He kisses you gently and with a softness that is often reserved for the moments just after sex.
“Well, in that case…” He says between kisses. His mouth moves to your neck again and rubs his scruff against your flesh, eliciting giggles from your kiss-swollen lips.
You let him pull you into another round, unconcerned with anything outside the walls of your mobile sanctuary. The road trip may take longer than expected, but it could all be gone tomorrow. You were willing to take that chance.
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
Boulevard Hell - Louis Cipher (Brad Dourif) x Reader [Smut]
Synopsis: You’re drawn to a mysterious older man one muggy night in Hollywood.
Notes: This is based on Brad’s character in the 2012 Calvin Harris music video for Drinking From The Bottle. Super random, but really hot. I can't with this video. I want him to fucking light me on fire god he is so daddy
The lights of the Walk of Fame blink and shimmer in your peripherals as you listen to the shouts of drunk tourists and honking ubers. Your head has since stopped pounding from your hangover, so you don't mind the quiet beat of a Calvin Harris song playing on the radio.
You take another bite of toast, and drop the butter-soaked piece back on the plate. You look up. The place is deserted except the older lady scrubbing the counter tops like hell will break loose if she misses a spot, and an older guy sitting two booths down from you.
You stare at him for a little longer, and find yourself focusing in on his lips... his ruffled back salt and pepper hair obviously combed by his fingers, and god, those fingers. His eyes seemed to dart around with a look that seemed too alert for the rest of him.
Fuck it.
You leave your plate, and go sit down beside him in the booth. You had meant to sit across from him, but something strange had compelled you to move closer.
"Hi," you say, stealing some of his pancake mush on an extra fork. He looks at you.
"Oh. Hey! I saw you at the party last night."
You frown, trying to remember where you even were last night. "You did?"
"Yeah, I did. Who could forget a thing like you?" His eyes do a little dance over you, and you decide you like it.
"I didn't see you."
"No one ever really sees me." He probably means to say it as a throwaway, but it's a heart-felt statement, and he looks down bitterly at his sugar inflated pancakes.
"I saw you from my booth. Thought I'd come..." you shrug, "I don't even know what I thought I'd do. It's as if I just suddenly... wanted to talk to you."
He nods boredly. "Funny thing."
"What do you do?"
"I travel."
"Oh yeah? Where?"
"Anywhere. I'm from somewhere hot, y'see. I gotta keep moving."
"How hot?" You smile, thinking of Florida or California weather.
He huffs. "Very hot."
You can't help but feel attracted to him. He's got this devil may care attitude, with a voice like butterscotch burnt to a crisp.
"About last night," you smirk, putting a hand on his knee, "Did we see much of each other?"
He looks down at the hand as you stroke, and starts to chuckle.
"I didn't fuck you, if that's what you're asking." You must have looked disappointed. "--I wanted to, though. Could barely control myself." His hand falls to your thigh, and starts to climb.
You cross your legs. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. It's been a hell of a while, doll, you've got no idea, and you just looked so fucking juicy. A piece of that pie could twist a man's soul."
Your breathing quickens, as you feel yourself getting wet. Yes, he's a bit of a weirdo, but it's getting to you, and not in the way you'd expect.
"You wanna make up for that and fuck me now?" you whisper, lips barely grazing his ear. The old lady stops what she's doing, looks over at you two warily, then goes back to her work. She's seen it all in this place.
"I want to fuck you, yeah," he nods, eyes dropping to your lips.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Til your toes light up like Christmas." You move your hand to his bulge, which is ready growing. You smile.
"Good. I need it bad, from a real bad guy."
He pushes the plate away. "You wanna get outta here doll?" he asks, and you bite your lip.
"Where?"
He shrugs, undoing the top button of his shirt. "Who gives a fuck?"
So you take his hand, and the enigmatic older man from the diner picks you up bridal style, swinging your legs over his forearms.
Star after star passes beneath you two, and you barely register the names. People point and grin at the man's horns-- fuck, you hadn't even noticed them-- and they laugh about all the campy street performers here in Hollywood, CA.
As he carries you, you giggle, arms around his neck, and he grins too, as you lean in and start to kiss him. He reciprocates, somehow able to keep walking straight.
"I'm gonna fuck the devil," you grin teasingly, holding onto one of his horns. He glances down at you, and makes a spooky gesture that sets you off laughing again.
The two of you find yourself in a back alley, behind the walk of fame hostel, Ziggy Stardust painted abstract over brick.
He drops you down then lifts you up against the brick, your legs wrapping around his hips. His lips part as he surveys your body, and your pussy clenches, wanting more, wanting him.
Nobody can see you. Even the hostel windows are shut, oblivious, as you take off your shirt and pull down your panties. Hollywood is a perverted, godless town. Somebody once told you that, and it made you laugh.
His fingers are inside you, working you open, then he drops down to his knees, keeping your legs strung over his shoulders. His lips find your stomach, pressing tiny kisses here and there, teasing you, watching you get wet by the second. He groans when he seals his lips over your cunt. You grip his horns as he begins licking right up to your clit and sucking hard until you feel like you're about to explode. The horns are really glued on there.
He pulls away, and stands with an aura of strength you didn't think him capable of. He holds you by your ass as he pushes into you, breathing hard. You moan, feeling him stretch you, and grin at the night sky, fists pounding the brick wall in pleasure.
"That's right, baby," he breathes, "This is what you need. Daddy's gonna give it to ya." God. How did he know exactly what you like to hear?
He licks his thumb, then drags it down between your breasts, lighting up your whole body. As your orgasm approaches, you're mystified by the glow his horns seem to take on... it's just the stars you're seeing from getting fucked so good, you're convinced.
"Daddy... daddy..." you moan softly, tugging his grey hair.
"Daddy's got you... gonna fuck you nice and good, sweets," he nods, "Daddy's little fuckin slut. Fuckin cockslut."
"Ohgod," you gasp, and gush around his cock faster than you'd ever finished before, watching him pound you with determination and enraptured intensity. The tell-tale drip down your thigh tells you he came too, and you slide down the wall onto wobbling legs, waiting for coherent thought to return to you.
"Wow," is all you can say, and he drapes his arm around you as he leads you out to the moderately populated sidewalk. The late night crowds are out, but you feel safe with him... whoever he is.
"You want a smoke?" he mumbles, taking out a hand rolled one.
"No thanks." He holds his finger up to the end of it and it blazes, distorting your mind. Your heartbeat quickens. That's not possible. Is it?
That smarmy fucking grin gets you again, and you sigh softly as you fall into his arms one more time, opening your lips for him to shotgun the trapped smoke to you. His thumbs run the width of your hips, up to your belly, then his hands reach up to graze your neck in a way that sends shivers down your spine.
When he pulls away, you open your eyes. Where your mysterious older man had been, the cloud of smoke now settles.
#louis cipher#louis cipher x reader#reader x louis cipher#brad dourif#brad dourif x reader#reader x brad dourif#calvin harris#drinking from the bottle#music video#brad dourif smut#satan#satan smut#lol#billby bibbit#chucky#child's play#watch the video#charles lee ray
43 notes
·
View notes