#in a cowboy drawing mood again so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

archangeldyke-all · 10 months ago

Note

oh, don’t stress if you can’t get to this ask it’s okay!

i was thinking that cowboy sevika would definitely say that “save a horse, ride a cowboy” phrase to her girlfriend. as dumb as it sounds i feel like she would also tell her to “giddy up”, and no matter how many times she tells her to take it off because it “looks stupid”, sevika would keep her cowboy hat on while her gf rides her 😭

her girlfriend would try to be mad at sevika for acting so childish and unserious during it, but would actually be holding back a smile because she loves her sev so much

oh, i absolutely adore this omg

men and minors dni

sevika finds you in the side garden, weeding and pruning. she wolf whistles at the sight of you bent over, and you snap up, glaring at her. she chuckles.

"hey darlin'." she drawls as she approaches you, a horny glint in her eye. you chuckle as she slings arms around your waist.

"what do you want?" you ask, already knowing what your wife's tracked you down for.

"the girls took shimmer out for a ride..." sevika says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she grins. "so we got an hour before we get interrupted by the little shits."

you giggle, flicking at the rim of her cowboy hat, then leaning in to kiss her. she hums against your lips.

"well, whaddya suppose we do with that hour?" you ask, teasingly. sevika grins.

"i was thinkin' i could give you some more ridin' lessons." she suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. you giggle, and then, sevika's dragging you inside, up the stairs, and into your bedroom.

in a flash she's got the both of you naked, sans her strap and cowboy hat. you're perched on her lap where she's sprawled out on the bed, in a tussle with her as you fight to get the hat off her head.

"quit squirmin'!" you complain as you make another grab for the hat. sevika laughs.

"the hat's stayin' on, darlin', what kinda cowboy'd i be without my hat on?" she asks. you roll your eyes and relent, sitting back on her legs with a playful glare.

sevika smacks your ass and you jump. "get to ridin' cowgirl." she says with a smirk. you groan and roll your eyes again.

"you're so fuckin' corny." you groan. nevertheless, you sit up on your knees and guide sevika's strap inside you. you both gasp as it breaches your hole, and sevika shivers as she watches you slowly sink down on it, adjusting to the stretch. you sigh in pleasure.

"feel good?" she asks, her hands drawing circles in your hips. you hum and nod. "fuck, you're sexy." she whispers from beneath you. you huff a laugh and lean down to kiss her.

"wish i could say the same. unfortunately, that stupid fuckin' hat kinda ruins all your sex appeal." you say. sevika snorts, fondling your ass as you slowly start grinding circles against her.

"and yet, you're still ridin' me." she says with a smirk. you roll your eyes.

"wasn't that in our vows? i'll still fuck you when you look ridiclious? somethin' like that?" you ask. sevika laughs and claws you hips.

"somethin' like that." she agrees, grinning up at you.

fuck her for bein' so adorable. you lean forward again to kiss her soundly, sliding your tongue against her lower lip and sitting back up before she can bite it. she pouts at you, but then a goofy smile creeps up her lips.

you already know what she's gonna say before she says it. you shake your head no at her, trying to stop her. "don't say it." you command. sevika just grins and smacks your ass.

"giddy up, cowgirl." she says, grinning at you.

you'd strangle her if her little mischievous laugh wasn't so damn cute.

"i can't believe i ever thought you were serious and scary." you say. sevika giggles beneath you, her thumb fiddling with your clit, making you jolt against her.

"c'mon baby." she whispers, lust taking over her silly mood again. "ride me. 'm all yours."

you sigh, bringing her free hand up to your lips to kiss it, before you start bouncing up and down on her cock.

you both groan.

sevika loves watching you on top of her, and over the years, you've gotten pretty damn good at it.

"i ain't gonna last long, doll." she grunts out. "not with you lookin' so damn good ridin' my cock."

you giggle down at her. "i just started." you say. she grins.

"yeah, but i've been watchin' you in the garden all mornin'." she says. "fuck, you look so good all sweaty and bendin' over." she grunts. you chuckle.

"you're ridiculous." you say. she grins up at you.

"you look so good when you're hard at work." she says.

"you do too." you respond, breathily. she grins.

"yeah? so you do like the hat." she says. you snort, reaching forward to try to knock it off again. she catches your wrist before you can reach her, and you roll your eyes, bringing your hand down to her chest to fondle her tits instead. she whimpers at your touch.

"it's hot when you're all dressed up. with that lasso on your hip, 'n shimmer beneath you, comin' home all sweaty and dirty... fuck." you curse, the mental image of your wife doing something to you. she hums beneath you. you open your eyes to look down at her and burst into giggles. "it ain't as cute when it's all your wearin'." you say. sevika laughs too.

"and yet, you're still ridin' me." she says again.

you lean down to press your lips against hers, shutting her up again.

after a few minutes, you have to pull away to pant for air as you slam your ass down against sevika's thighs over and over again.

"fuck-- i'm close." sevika whimpers. you hum on top of her.

"cum inside me, sev." you whisper in her ear. she groans.

"what about you?" she whines. you chuckle.

"if you take that damn hat off i'll let you go down on me once you're done." you promise her. she grins and nods in agreement, her hands flying down to grip your hips and help you continue to ride her hard and fast, loud smacks filling the room as your sweaty thighs hit the top of hers over and over again.

sevika's face scrunches in pleasure and you tug at her tits, knowing she's close.

"c'mon baby." you moan. "wanna watch you cum."

sevika groans beneath you.

"you're such a fool for this pussy, aren't ya?" you ask. she nods. "y' had me this mornin' before the kids woke up, and it's only high noon now-- you're so fuckin' needy." you tease her. sevika whimpers.

"c-can't help it." she whines. you coo down at her.

"that's okay baby, i love it." you say. "y' know how to make a girl feel special. you're lucky i'm just as needy for you."

she nods up at you, gasping. "s-so lucky." she agrees.

beneath you, her legs start twitching, and you grin.

"give it to me sev." you encourage her, both because you want your wife to cum and also because you're dying to get her out of that hat.

she must know this, because right before her face scrunches up in ecstasy, something mischievous flashes behind her eyes. you know what's coming, nearly a decade with the woman means you can read her like a book. you try to duck down to press your lips to hers before she can speak, but you're too slow, and as sevika tips over into orgasm, she lets out a breathy, giggling, "yeehaw!"

you groan on top of her, a laugh wracking through your body despite your disgust, and you pinch her nipples hard in retaliation as she cums.

she jolts, then grins, coming down from her high to giggle up at you. you snort at her and flick her nose.

"i can't believe you." you mumble. she chuckles.

"you're the one who married me." she says, grinning.

"i'm starting to question my sanity." you say. she laughs.

you pull off her strap and stand on wobbly legs, taking a few deep breaths before you turn around and begin pulling your undergarments back on.

sevika gasps and snaps up to sit on the bed.

"fuck're you doin'?" she asks. "you promised me i could put my mouth on you!" you shake your head at her.

"you ruined the moment!" you say, laughing as you pull your pants on. "you can't expect me to be horny after that, sev. should think before you speak next time." you faux scold her.

sevika blinks at you owlishly. "you aren't serious." she says. you just shrug as you begin buttoning up your shirt. "baby!" she cries, scrambling off the bed to gather you in her arms. "c'mon!" she whines. you giggle.

"'s what you get for bein' a clown." you say. sevika reaches up and grabs her hat, then sends it flying across the room.

"there, the hat's gone now-- will you please come back to bed!?" she asks. you just shake your head no at her, pressing a kiss to her nose.

"no, i don't think i will." you say, before breaking free of her hold around your waist and sauntering away.

you only get down five stairs before sevika comes stumbling after you, her clothes in her arms as she tries to dress herself as she chases after you.

"darlin' wait! i'm sorry!" she calls.

you just roll your eyes and walk back out to the garden.

you'll let her stew in her disappointment for a while. and if she's lucky, maybe she'll get another shot at you tonight.

that is, of course, only if the hat stays firmly planted on the hook in the wall, far away from her reach, right where it belongs.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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avastrasposts · 10 months ago

Text

A Baker's Dozen - Eight

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

Pedro boy number eight is ready to swagger into the bakery and I've only got four more weeks of this! I realised the very final chapter would be posted on February 12th so lets delay it by two days and end this on Valentine's Day, seeing as this is the fluffiest, most romantic thing I've ever written. Feels very appropriate to end it with my favourite Pedro boy on Valentine's Day. 🥰

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely, sweet friend @ladybess-a03 who, in my world, is this Pedro boy's beautiful wife.

Series Master List

“Is the rodeo in town?” the kid who works extra over the weekends in the bakery asks, raising their eyebrows and nodding towards the window. You look over and catch a glimpse of the man striding across the street. The comment is pretty accurate, he certainly looks like a cowboy; a slick cowboy dressed up for the city in a well tailored suit that hugs his narrow hips and wide shoulders, topped off with a black Stetson and suede shoulder patches.

“Pretty good looking cowboy,” you say and the kid snorts, hanging their apron on the hook and giving you a quick wave goodbye. The cowboy reaches the bakery door and holds open the door for them before he steps inside.

“Afternoon, miss,” he says, greeting you with a polite tip of his Stetson, two fingers on the brim, as he saunters up to the counter, his lips quirking up in a smile.

“Afternoon, sir,” you reply, returning his polite greeting with a smile of your own. Internally you’re swooning and giggling, there’s a smoothness to the man that makes you want to twirl your imaginary braid and kick your heels.

“Sir,” he says, chuckling as he puts one hand on the counter, the other on his hip, pushing back his jacket and revealing a large belt buckle in the shape of a hip flask, “makes me feel about a hundred, darlin’. Call me Jack.” He offers you his hand, dwarfing your own as you shake it.

“Alright, how can I help you, Jack?” you ask as the warmth of his hand lingers on yours.

“Pie, sugar, I’m in a real mood for some pie,” he says, patting his belly with a grin, “And I heard you might be the best baker in town so I had to see for myself,” he winks, “if the rumors are true.”

“I don’t know about best baker in town,” you smile back, “but thanks for the vote of confidence. What kind of pie are you in the mood for?”

“Well, I’m an old fashioned cowboy, southern born and bred, so I doubt you’ll be surprised when you hear that I’d love some pecan pie, sugar,” he says, pointing to the one pecan pie you have in your display.

“Not old fashioned,” you say, crouching down to slide the pie out, “but maybe traditional. And it’s a great pie,” you put it on the counter and Jack chuckles.

“Honey, I’m anything but traditional, but I have a soft spot for pecan pie,” he says, putting an arm up on the display case and leaning in, his mouth pulling up in a crooked grin, “Sweet pecan pie, and sweet bakers,” he winks at you again and you feel your cheeks heat up and busy yourself adjusting the pie on the counter, trying to bite back the grin that’s threatening to split your face in half before you look up at the smiling cowboy again, his dark eyes twinkling under the brim of his Stetson.

“Would you like the whole thing, or just a slice?” you ask and Jack grins.

“Oh, sugar, I want the whole damn thing,” he replies and you swallow loudly. He keeps his eyes on you as you squirm under his gaze, your cheeks burning up as you quickly duck under the counter and grab one of the take away boxes. You’ve never met a man who so shamelessly flirts with anyone and you hear him chuckle as you look for the right sized box.

Jack is still smiling as you pop back up and start folding the flat cardboard, butterflies fluttering in your stomach under his gaze.

“This pie sure smells wonderful, darlin’,” he says, leaning in closer and drawing a deep breath, his arm still on the display case as he puts a hand on his waist, but he’s got his eyes on you, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a smile under his neat mustache.

“I hope it’ll taste as good as it smells then,” you reply, just to reply something. His over the top charm shouldn’t be getting to you so easily, but you’re practically a puddle at this point, any coherent sentence from you is a win and Jack seems to notice your reaction to his flirting and clearly loves how he’s getting to you, judging by the size of his grin.

“I’m absolutely certain it will be every bit as sweet as you, sugar,” he purrs, his hand coming up to rub over his smooth jaw.

You manage to slide the pie into the box and close the lid, pushing it over the counter to Jack, giving him a flustered smile.

“Here you go then, enjoy,” you say, “Please let me know what you think, if you’re passing by again.”

“And what do I owe you, honey?” he asks, reaching back and pulling out a slim black wallet from his pocket.

“Uh…umm…” you stutter, the prices, that are usually seared into your brain, have wandered off under the onslaught of Jack’s charm and you fumble for the price list next to the till, “Twenty-four, ninety-nine,” you finally get out and Jack pulls out two twenties and hands them over.

“Keep the change, sugar, you’re undercharging for both the pie and the company,” he says, grinning as he winks at you again.

“Oh thank you, sir-Jack,” you reply, “but that’s really not necessary.”

“I know, but I want to,” he smiles, softer this time, “And I’ll be sure to let you know how much I like it,” He slides a hand under the box, carefully lifting it up as he tips his hat at you, two fingers on the brim again.

“Have a good evening, darlin’,”

“Same to you Jack, enjoy the pie.”

“Oh, I will, I’m sure,” Jack grins, pushing the door open, letting a new customer in.

“Ma’am,” he says, giving her a tip of his hat before he disappears with a final smile at you.

“What a handsome man,” Mrs Morales says as she comes up to the counter, “and such good manners.”

“He was very well mannered,” you smile at her as she comes up to the counter, “What can I get for you today, Mrs Morales?”

…

When the doorbell jingles in the middle of the morning a few days later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Jack’s smiling face above the small crowd of customers. He gives you a two fingered salute, tipping his hat, before he sits down at one of the café tables to wait. The crowd slowly thins out and eventually it’s Jack’s turn, and you notice that he’s choosing to wait until he can be served by you and not your shop assistant.

“Hi Jack,” you smile at him as he comes over. He’s opted for a more casual look today you notice, a black leather jacket and white t-shirt instead of his slick suit, but the Stetson is still on his head as he gives you a crooked grin.

“Hi there, sugar,” he drawls, his southern twang even more pronounced, “you’re looking real gorgeous today, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He winks as he leans on the counter, giving you his most winning smile and you can practically hear the eye roll from your assistant down by the till.

“Thanks, you’re not looking to shabby yourself,” you smile back at him and he puffs his chest, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“How was the pecan pie?” you ask and Jack grins widely.

“Just as sweet as the gorgeous baker girl who made it,” he croons, “I may have eaten the whole thing already.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” you smile, your cheeks heating up at his praise and Jack chuckles, taking off his Stetson and fanning you with it.

“Is it hot in here, darlin’, or is my praise heating you up there?”

“Oh shut up,” you reply, trying to give him a scowl but failing as he runs his free hand through his dark hair, smoothing out the unruly locks that have been hidden under his hat, before he puts it back on. The simple action shouldn’t make a shiver run down your spine but you feel your mind go temporarily blank as he adjusts the brim to his liking. As he cocks his head and gives you a playful smirk, the corner of his lip curling up, you try to snap out of it.

“So what can I do for you today, Jack?”

“How about another pecan pie, darlin’?” he asks, glancing over the display cases and spotting the one you made this morning.

“Another one?”

“What can I say, your pie is calling my name, sugar,” he grins and winks at you, hooking his thumb into the pocket of his tight jeans.

“I’ll make sure to keep making it for you then, Jack,” you giggle and slide the fresh pecan pie from the shelf and into a carton.

“I’ll be a steady customer for sure,” he says and reaches back for his wallet, handing you his card with a smile, “no other bakery has better pecan pie.” You fight the grin on your face as you charge his card and go to hand it back to him, but he gently takes your hand instead, pulling you closer to him over the counter, “And the most gorgeous baker to make them,” he whispers, his low voice rich and warm as you feel his warm breath slip over your cheek.

He gives you a wink and lets go of your hand, stepping back from the counter and letting the next customer step forward as he tips his hat to you.

“What a charmer,” Mrs Levinson says, pulling your attention away from Jack as she puts her handbag on the counter. “But I always preferred a man in a suit, and a bit less forward if I may say so.” She wrinkles her nose at you, dismissing Jack as you try to stifle a giggle.

“I think he was just the right amount of forward, Mrs Levinson,” you reply with a smile, “Would you like your usual order today?”

“Yes please, dear. But add one of those Lemon Meringue Pies please. I’m going over to Mrs York’s place later,” she adds the last part with a sigh. “So sad, her son and his wife have just split up, they have two such beautiful daughters.”

“Didn’t they divorce last spring, Mrs Levinson?”

“Yes, at Easter, but he’s still single and she’s found some new man,” Mrs Levinson shakes her head as you place the pie next to her usual bread order, “he’s such a handsome boy, always wears a suit too, he’d be a real catch for you, my dear.”

“I’ve got plenty on my plate already, Mrs Levinson,” you smile, thinking of Jack’s flirting and tight jeans, “I just don’t have time for any more right now.”

“You have to let yourself have some fun too, can’t be all work,” the old lady scolds you mildly as you hand her the change and she puts everything away. “I’ll tell Mrs York to send him here for some time soon, I’m sure you’d like him.” She gives you a cheeky wink and waves goodbye, letting the next customer in line step up.

The next time Jack comes by the bakery, he’s back in his sharp suit, and tips his Stetson at you with a wink as he comes up to the counter.

“Seeing as I was found lacking last time, I thought it best to suit up,” he chuckles and you can’t help but roll your eyes as you laugh.

“Mrs Levinson has a sharp eye for handsome men, but might be a little bit old fashioned,” you reply, “But I do like your suit, it’s very ‘you’, Jack.”

“Thank you, sugar, I do like to dress the part for work,” he straightens his impeccable hat again.

“So what brings you back here, Jack? You can’t possibly have eaten two whole pecan pies in just a few days?”

“I certainly could’ve,” he chuckles, patting down the front of his suit jacket, “but I was kind enough to share it with my colleagues and told them you have the best pie in town, and I think you might be getting more customers soon.”

“That’s very nice of you, and thanks for the recommendation”, you smile, but Jack shakes his head.

“Only telling the truth, sugar,” he winks, “and I’ve promised them to bring another pie tomorrow so could I trouble you?”

“Of course, I’ve been making extra just for you, Jack” you smile and Jack’s face lights up, a wide grin making a dimple appear in his cheek as he rubs a hand over his neat mustache.

“Honey, you’re spoiling me rotten, how can I ever repay you?”

“Well, I’d say twenty-four, ninety-nine, but this one’s on the house,” you scoot the box with the pie over the counter towards Jack who’s furiously shaking his head.

“You know I can’t accept that, sugar. You’re already undercharging as it is,” he says, pulling out his wallet from inside his suit jacket as you raise your hand to stop him.

“Jack, if you pull out that wallet any further I’ll have to ban you from the bakery, it’s on the house.”

Jack’s eyes go wide, “You wouldn’t?” he exclaims with mock horror as you nod emphatically.

“Oh I would, Jack,” you grin, pointing to the door, “Now take your pie and leave that wallet in your pocket.”

Jack shakes his head as he picks up the pie box, “I’ll pay you somehow, sugar, but thank you very much for the pie.”

“You’re very welcome, Jack,” you smile at him as he carefully brings two fingers to the brim of his Stetson and gives you a nod.

“‘Till next time, darlin’.”

You do sell a couple of more pecan pies over the next few days and you wonder if your new customers are Jack’s colleagues as you add extra pecans to your online grocery order. Thanks to Jack you’ve gone through your stores of pecans in record time, and as you tap your pen on your notebook you toy with the idea of making variations of it for Jack to try. The jingle of the bell above the bakery door pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up. Your heart skips a little beat when you recognise the black Stetson.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Jack calls to you as he spots you in the kitchen, “I’m not too late am I?”

“Not at all, I’m closing in about five minutes, I’m just ordering next week’s groceries,” you wave him in behind the counter and he comes to the door into your kitchen, putting an arm up over his head as he leans on the frame.

“More pecans?” he winks and you laugh.

“How did you know? I’m running low on them, someone keeps buying all my pies.”

“A few of my colleagues said they’ve stopped by and bought a couple of pies,” he says as you try to discreetly glance at his tall frame as he leans against the door post. He’s back in his white t-shirt and black leather jacket this evening, and the way the shirt rides up over the edge of his tight jeans as he stretches his arm, a sliver of tanned skin peeking out, has your mind going blank.

“Oh, y-yeah,” you stutter as your brain slowly comes back online, “A very nice woman with short black hair and glasses came in and bought one, but it was busy and I didn’t get a chance to ask if she worked with you.”

“Ginger,” Jack smiles, “she’s the one who asked me where I got it. Tried telling her I made it myself but, funnily, she didn’t buy it,” he chuckles and comes into the kitchen, leaning over your shoulder to look down at your notes, “What are you working on there, sugar?”

“I was thinking of making some variations of the pie,” you say, “maybe one with a hint of lemon, or a bourbon chocolate one?”

“Now you’re talking my kind of language, sugar,” Jack grins, tapping the ridiculously large belt buckle in the shape of a hip flask that sits on his belt.

“Don’t tell me you actually have bourbon in that?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up and Jack nods and grins.

“Of course, sugar! Never know when I might need a shot,” he laughs, unclipping the hip flask from his belt and flipping open the top, holding out for you to smell. The rich, warm aroma of the bourbon wafts up and you inhale deeply. “That smells so good, Jack, it’s giving me ideas!”

“What kinds of ideas, sugar?” Jack drawls, winking at you as he leans on your workbench, his eyes suddenly level with yours, all chocolate brown and warm. Your cheeks heat up as he takes a swig from the hip flask, his eyes never leaving yours, and then offers it to you.

“Baking ideas,” you force out, almost jumping out of your skin as his fingers slip over your hand when you take the flask from him. The warm whiskey goes down smooth and warm, heating you up from the inside as it lands in your belly, and your eyes come back to Jack’s. He’s looking at you with a smile, one corner of his mouth pulled up as he takes the flask back from you.

“Are you making me a new pecan pie straight away, honey? Because I absolutely have room for dessert…” he trails off with a quirk of his eye brows. You bite down on your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot, little hot sparks are erupting in your stomach and they have nothing to do with the bourbon. Jack runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of his lip, catching an errant drop of whiskey and you follow the movement with your eyes, his plush bottom lip disappearing for a moment as he sucks it in, wetting it.

“Cream!” you blurt out.

Jack raises his eyebrows questioningly, “Cream?” The tone of his voice has dropped about an octave and there’s no mistaking the suggestion in his voice.

“No! Yes! I-I mean, whipped cream, with bourbon, for the pie,” you flounder, pointing to Jack’s hip flask as his smile widens.

“That sounds like the most perfect addition to your pie, sugar. Right now?”

“Yeah, if I can use a few tablespoons of your whiskey?”

“You can have whatever you want, darlin’,” Jack replies, unclipping the bottle again and handing it to you.

“Grab the pie from the display case,” you tell him as you open the fridge to pull out the whipping cream. You hear Jack go back to the front and bring the pie back to the workbench, as you pull out a hand mixer and a bowl, he shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it on the back of your chair before he comes back to the table. The white t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he leans on the workbench next to you.

“So I finally get to see you in action,” he says as you measure out two tablespoons of whiskey from his flask before handing it back to him.

“For about the two minutes it’s going to take to make this,” you smile and start the hand mixer. Jack grabs the bowl and holds it steady while you slowly start whipping the cream, adding powdered sugar as you go along with the whiskey. Soon the cream has transformed to pillowy clouds and you stop the mixer. You can smell the bourbon and so can Jack, he leans forward and inhales deeply.

“This smells gorgeous, sugar, just the thing for the pie I think.”

You giggle as he stands up again, a small dollop of cream clinging to the tip of his nose.

“You’ve got some cream on your nose there, Jack,” you smile and Jack laughs, going cross eyed as he tries to spot it. With a swipe of his finger he catches the dollop and puts his finger in his mouth.

“Mmm…delicious,” he says, grinning around his finger as you smile back at him, grabbing a couple of plates and a knife for cutting.

“Should be even better with the pie,” you say, giving Jack a generous slice and then cutting another one for yourself before spooning the bourbon infused cream next to both slices.

Jumping up on the workbench, you grab your plate as Jack takes a step closer, picking up his own piece. You swipe your finger through the cream on your plate, wanting to taste it without the pie first. But Jack beats you to it, his hand comes out and grabs your wrist, his calloused fingers closing gently around your soft skin as he pulls your hand to his lips. The wet heat of his mouth envelops your finger as he sucks it in, his tongue brushing over your digit, and you gasp.

The sensation of his tongue running along your finger shoots electricity through your body and you exhale sharply, your eyes locked on Jack’s mouth as he studies your reaction. As your eyes come back up to his he lets your finger slip from between his lips, leaning forward and capturing your chin with his hand. He pauses for a second, waiting for your permission, and as you lean into him, he presses a soft kiss to your mouth. A low groan slips from him and the taste of bourbon and cream fills your mouth as he tenderly dips his tongue in between your lips. Your hand comes up to his shoulder to brace yourself, his hot mouth on yours making your pulse rase. You lean into him, needing to taste more of his mouth and his arm comes around your waist, pulling you close.

“You taste even better than the pie, sugar,” Jack mumbles against your mouth, cupping your cheek with his large hand as you chase his lips.

“You too, Jack,” you moan, letting him angle your face so that he can deepen the kiss, fervently licking into your mouth as he pulls you closer to his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist where he stands between them. His body is warm through the cotton of his t-shirt, his muscles moving under your palms as you explore the planes of his back. Jack lets his mustache tickle across your cheek, your jawline, as he slowly moves his lips with small, wet kisses, along your sensitive skin, trailing a path down your neck. His dark hair is thick and soft when you curl your fingers into the back of it, Jack tilting your head back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose buried in your hair.

“So sweet, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice muffled, “smells like butter and sugar.”

“Come up here and kiss my lips again, Jack,” you protest, tugging light at his hair and he chuckles, inhaling deeply.

“Anything for you, honey,” he replies, his big hand cupping the back of your head as he drags the cool tip of his nose up your neck and jaw, bumping against yours. When you lock eyes again he’s smiling softly, all the confident cockyness gone, replaced by warmth and affection. His lips part slowly as you pull him closer, his tongue teasing yours, making you lick into his mouth.

He hums softly, his hand caressing your back, finding the divot of your spin and trailing his fingers up and down. In the quiet kitchen all you can hear are his low groans and your own gasps as each kiss traces sparks along your nerves. Jack’s fingers press into your back as heat builds between you, his hips slowly grinding in a movement so unhurried it’s as if he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. When his warm palms find their way up under your shirt, rough calluses stroking gently over your curves, you lean back, pulling him with you until you're flat on your back, Jack leaning down over you.

“Gorgeous…” he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck again, his hands pushing further up your shirt.

“Oh no!” he suddenly exclaims, lifting his head up from your throat and holding up his hand, covered in mushed up pecan pie.

“You’re on top of it, honey,” he laughs, helping you sit up, and you hear the plate clatter to the bench behind you. Now that you’re up, you can feel the stickiness against your back, and you twist, trying to see how much of a mess you’ve made.

“Is it all over my back?” you ask and Jack looks over your shoulder and nods.

“I’m afraid so, sugar, your shirts covered in it. Do you have something to change into?”

“No, I took everything home to wash yesterday,” you grumble, twisting your arm up behind your back and feeling the remains of the pie.

“Here,” Jack says, standing up straight and swiftly pulling his own t-shirt off, “I’ll wear just the jacket, you take my shirt.” He holds it out to you and you hesitate, temporarily mesmerized by the sudden sight of Jack’s bare chest, tan and smooth with a trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans.

You swallow and pull your eyes up to his face again, “I can’t take your t-shirt, Jack.”

“Why not? Take it, I’ve got plenty more, and I kinda like the idea of you in my shirt,” he winks and takes a step closer again, making you grab his shirt as he bends and places a wet kiss on your lips, “And this way, I can come by your place and pick it up. Or leave another one.”

He grins as stands up again, “C’mon, sugar, take that one off and let me see you in mine.” He helps you by putting his hands back on your waist and pushing up under your ruined shirt. You peel it off gingerly, trying to avoid getting pie in your hair, and Jack’s eyes darken as you sit in front of him in just your bra.

“Want me to put it on straight away, Jack?” you tease him as you watch him take in your shape.

“No..but yeah, or we’re not leaving this bakery anytime soon, darlin’,” he chuckles, and you pull his t-shirt over your head as Jack sighs in mock disappointment. The soft cotton is still warm from his body and smells just like Jack, you have to inhale as it slips over your head. When you pop out from underneath it Jack is watching you with a small smile.

“Beautiful,” he says softly, his hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Do you want more pie, Jack?” you ask, pointing to the remaining pie and Jack’s eyebrows quirk up.

“What do you think, sugar?” he smirks and you laugh.

“I think you’ve got three empty pie forms at home and an extra hole in your belt.”

“Not yet, but soon,” he grins, patting his small belly, “C’mon, sugar, let me drive you, make sure my shirt gets to its new home safely.”

“I’ve got my own car, but thanks for the offer, Jack,” you smile at him and slip your arms around his neck again. “Come by soon, I’ll have more pie for you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, sugar.”

Part Nine

This week's recipe comes courtesy of @goodwithcheese who shared her own Pecan Pie recipe with me! Thank you Megan!

Megan’s Pecan Pie 3 eggs ½ cup/100g sugar 1 cup/250 ml dark corn syrup 3 tablespoons melted butter 1 teaspoon vanilla ¼ teaspoon salt 2 cups/approx 250g chopped pecans Whisk together all ingredients except the pecans. Stir in the pecans and pour the mixture into an unbaked pie crust and bake for 40 minutes at 350F/175C.

@harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #jack daniels #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic

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yanverse · 7 months ago

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I’m curious how the yans would react to their darling suggesting being free use? Some of them would never act right EVER again; but I also think some would start out too nervous to make a move, but once they do it a few times, they become something of a menace.

prrrrr.......free use, you say? i have.......ideas >:) (lmk if u want more! <3)

Elias, Kaito, Lilith, Isabelle, Adrian, Nina

(cws: free use kink, domination, degradation, dressing up, fingering, overstimulation, messy sex)

Elias obviously needs to keep you around while he's working, and it just so happens that he's also in need of a good secretary for his practice. Win-win! He can have the best of both worlds: keep you close enough that he can see you whenever he wants, and you've got something to busy yourself with when he gives you paperwork--but aside from filing a few things you basically just get to mess around on the computer while he's in session. And unless you're into it, you won't be hearing any questionable noises and thumping through the wall--he's had to rebrand and lost some repeat customers, but he's a taken man now, so no more shenanigans.

Of course, that means you've got a much hornier, much needier cowboy on your hands than you're used to. He doesn't need to jerk off between clients or on his break anymore if the mood hits him midday--that's what he's got you for now, right? He can just waltz out of his office, tap you on the shoulder, and drop to his knees right there. Worried you'll get caught, that someone might walk in early or a solicitor will drop by? Then you just need to stay nice and quiet while he's under your desk. He might just end up leaving indents in the floor from the spurs on his boots, cause it's so easy and you're so accessible and you don't even have to stop working! In fact, if he's in the mood to tease, he might dangle the threat of stopping over your head if you don't keep working while he goes down on you.

But knowing him, there'll be an equal chance of him rushing over, locking the door to the office, and just throwing you over the desk like he can't wait a second longer to have you. There's a reason he's got so much time in between his clients, and it's because there's no better time to mess up his cute little secretary, and make sure you have to sit with his cum leaking down your legs the rest of the day.

Kaito has half a mind to just sit you on his lap all day. He doesn't have to go out for work, he barely leaves the house as is, and you're around each other most of the time anyways. Why not? He could game or tweak his latest sketches with you settled and comfy on his lap, his cock twitching softly inside you with those pretty mewls of yours perking him up. That, to him, is heaven.

If that's not the case, though, then sparing a hand to entertain you is just as good. Especially if you're in an argument, or if he's mad at you, or if he's just annoyed but not in the mood to talk about it. He doesn't even have to be paying attention, but more than likely you'll be begging for him to give you some.

With the spare seat next to him and his eyes glued to his computer screen, he only needs one hand to fiddle with his tablet pen as he shades his latest drawing. And all the while he has his fingers buried between your legs, his reactions minimal as you soak his chair with sweat and grab at his sleeve in desperation. You keep cumming all over yourself, you're a mess, and he's already gonna have to clean you up after so at least don't distract him. Each orgasm aches more than the last with overstimulation melting your brain into your skull, but you won't even stop him. You probably could, but why would you? He said it himself: he's gonna clean you up when he's done, you just have to wait until he finishes up. But knowing Kaito, odds are he's gonna make you much, much messier before he actually gets to that part.

Lilith loves providing for you. She loves to make you happy, to come home with money and food and love, and to shower you with everything she has without you having to lift a finger. You love her, you've done enough.

But when the opportunity to bus tables at her restaurant comes around, it's a hard deal to ignore. Extra income, extra time together, and extra chances for you to socialize and put in some hard work? If you're all over it then she can't exactly say no. A good girlfriend wouldn't say no to such a simple request. It may have her biting her nails at first, but seeing you succeed fills her with a feeling of pride that gives her an extra spring in her step on those extra-hard days.

But she's lucky that the diner has so few willing waitresses and such a small staff to begin with, because you two can get so close to getting caught with your pants down. She'd never consider getting off at work before this, but with you so present and available all the time...shooting her those lusty looks across the dining room, bending over just a little too far while you're cleaning tables, brushing by her just a little too close while she's taking an order...if she didn't pull you into the bathroom and push you up against the stall, she might just go crazy. Whether it's your hand up her skirt or hers down yours, it really doesn't matter--if you're going to let her touch you whenever she wants, then she has to take advantage of it. Nearly every break soon turns into a chance to get away, her lunch swapped out for a glorious ten minutes with your legs spread, body bent forward, and her tongue making short work of that promise you made that you'd stay quiet.

Isabelle isn't offered the suggestion of free use. You are free use. You're her toy, you're meant to be used, and you're smart enough to know that she doesn't take such a stance lightly. She's not fucking around with any of that touchy-feely, "casual dominance" crap. You'll know she's dominating you because she won't let you forget your place--look away for a moment, let your guard down, and you'll be pounced on before you can make sense of it. Even if she's just finished making you cum for every year you've been alive, she could very well come back into the room after a minute and decide she's not quite done yet. Bathing, showering, eating, sleeping, it's all the same. So long as you're still breathing, there's an incredibly high chance that you won't go very long without her weight pinning you down or your legs pulled apart for her to have a taste. But at least you're still alive, which is more than can be said for Isabelle's other playthings and romantic interests.

You would think that someone as poised, confident, and professional as Dr. Moorwell wouldn't be nearly as intrigued by the concept. Adrian is a romantic, after all--a chivalrous one at that--so you would struggle to imagine him as being so crass and self-indulgent with his lover.

Alas, he is. In fact, he's like a beast while in pursuit of it. Adrian loves to catch you while you're unawares; reading, reaching up for something on a high shelf, organizing his library, taking a sip of your drink, crawling under the sofa to retrieve whatever you dropped, the view makes him shudder and his belt comes off like the buckle is melting. There's always a touch first, a light tap or a brush down your sides to reassure you that it's him, but it's just a formality. The quick smack of his palm hitting your backside is the real test, because so long as your cute little squeal is followed up by a whine or a moan, he knows there's no risk. He can squeeze you, pull you apart, violate those precious, sacred spots so deep they've never seen the light, and it'll satisfy you to the point of making you gush all over him like he's turned the dial of a sprinkler.

At this point he might as well give you the title of housemaid. Your presence in his home reassures such tidy, homely feelings even amidst the stacked clutter and the piles of unread books. Besides, he'd have an excuse to put you in one of those silly, frilly costumes with the headbands and the wrist cuffs, and you could call him--w-well, it doesn't matter what you call him, so long as you prance around as happy and sweet as usual, and look at him with all that love in your eyes even once he's reduced you to tears and trembling legs.

Nina would be the last person to ever accept such a sinister request. Touch you? Unprompted? Without gloves, or a thorough hand washing, or..? You seriously think she would ever do such a thing on a whim?

That terrible attitude only lasts a few minutes, however, because her complaints are only a farce for how her mind has started working in overdrive. Because you like her enough to ask her for something so lewd. Because you think she's pretty. Because you look at her and think hot, wet thoughts despite her difficult attitude and her insistence on keeping everything clean. You desire her, and that's a feeling that's only come by on very, very rare occasions.

Hence why your request is fulfilled so quickly--like, less than twenty minutes quickly. Less than the time it would take for her to shower and scrub and go through her step-by-step routine in order to touch you, because the waiting is too agonizing and she just has to feel you. To feel your love and your beating heart in your chest, your pulse pounding all the way up your fingertips as you spread her open on your stupid, dirty, filthy hands. The only reason she'll allow it is just because it's you, but don't you dare get a big head! This is just more convenient for her. She'll just take a shower afterwards. But...well, you're coming with her. It'll surely be easier to clean up if you're already in there, so if you think your bathing time from then on is going to go uninterrupted, you'll be very sorely mistaken.

#yandereverse #spicy writing #elias norwood #kaito ooe #lilith surrey #adrian moorwell #isabelle dmitriev #nina sojourn #male yandere #female yandere #ellie writes #yandere x reader #anons

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under-loch-n-key · 6 months ago

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hnnng i'm not even done with house md yet but should i get into psych??

Absolutely! Psych is a very very good show. Even though it is a lighthearted show, it still has some serious moments and elements to it. Psych is the kind of show I can watch over and over again at any time because of how light and funny it is. The characters are absolutely loveable. The cast is so precious. Just everything about it is so perfect. Psych is eight seasons long. They also have three movies and a podcast together. The cast really wants to make more movies together.

I adore House MD, obviously, but it is more heavy than the show Psych is. Which sometimes I am not in the mood for. Psych has an episode for everyone. They have a musical episode, Bigfoot episode, cowboy episode, a Christmas episode, uhhh, they have an episode where they all had a late night out together and cannot remember anything that happened to them, a demon possession/“Exorcist” parody episode, a parody of Stephen King’s “The Shining”, a vampire episode, werewolf episode, etc.

There’s so many characters in the show that I just adore. Lassie is my favourite, Woody, Gus, Shawn, McNab, etc. There’s a character for everyone to enjoy. I just adore this show so much and the cast included.

It’s not mentioned in the show, but on Twitter a while back the creators of the show just randomly posted something along the lines of “Oh, yeah, lassie? Not straight. He’s actually pansexual-“ I do believe this was from the actual creators account. So, I thought that was cool.

Lassie and his partner detective Juliet O’Hara are such an amazing example of shows portraying male and female friendships properly. They actually make them friends and have it remain that way. I’m not saying that two people of the opposite sex cannot be together or anything, but it seems every time I watch a show they never make the guy and girl just be friends. There’s always tension and sex and then that’s all it becomes. They are just such an amazing duo and a perfect example of two people of the opposite sex just being besties without any weird tension or sex. I adore it.

I just so so highly recommend Psych to anyone. It’s one of my comfort shows. It’s so nice. Psych, the show and movies, is available on Peacock and Amazon Prime for free. Another show along the lines of Psych but is more serious is called The Mentalist. That show is also SO good. I highly recommend Psych and The Mentalist to anyone looking for something to watch. [:

(I will be making some more Psych and Shassie art in the future. They are one of my favourites to draw. Even the actors ship it. Which is hilarious. Lmao.)

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sixhours · 22 days ago

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bright spots - chapter 8

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | In progress

Rating: Teen Words: 1.8k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Ellie

Yep. She’s going fucking crazy.

After weeks on the open road, being confined to a single hospital floor is torture. Boredom sinks in with claws and teeth, and there are only so many games of Boggle they can play before she wants to climb out of her skin. She’s so desperate, she’s reading the shitty magazines from the box at the nurse’s station.

“What the hell’s a ‘horrorscope?’”

Joel glances up from his book. “Horoscope. Not horrorscope. It’s, uh, astronomy–”

“No, astronomy is science ,” she says matter-of-factly. “This looks like bullshit. And my version sounds cooler.”

Joel just grunts and goes back to his reading. She’s pretty sure he’s read the same book like ten times already. She sighs and looks down at the magazine, tracing her finger down the little inset chart until she finds her birthday.

“Hmm, let’s see. Guess I’m a…Taurus,” she frowns, reading aloud. “‘Overall, this month is about aligning your actions with your values. Embrace your steady determination and let it guide you toward a more fulfilling and balanced path.’ The fuck does that mean?”

“It’s mostly made-up bullshit,” Joel agrees.

“Hmm. What’s your birthday?”

“Noneya.”

She looks over her shoulder at him when he predictably adds, “Noneya business.”

So fucking lame.

“Alright, guess I’m just gonna have to read every single one of these–”

“Jesus, stop. It’s September twenty-sixth.”

“September twenty–whoa,” she says, looking back at him. Outbreak Day. He’s gone quiet, nose still stuck in his dumb cowboy book. “That’s…grim.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” he mutters.

Things get very quiet. She’s not sure if she should push; it’s hard to get a read on Joel’s moods sometimes. After a pause, he puts the book down and sighs.

“You gonna read my horoscope or what? The suspense is killin’ me,” he says drily.

Must be one of the good days .

“September twenty-sixth, that makes you a–”

“A Libra,” he says.

“You dick!” she laughs. “You already knew?”

He shrugs, not offering further explanation, but the faraway look in his eyes tells her he’s thinking of Sarah. Horoscopes definitely seem like something a fourteen-year-old kid would have liked back in the Before.

“Libra. Okay, here it is: ‘Today you’re going to be a grumpy motherfucker who’s old as fuck.’”

He narrows his eyes, biting his lip on a smirk. “It don’t say that.”

“Does too,” she grins.

“Yeah? Then let me see it.”

“No,” she sticks out her tongue and slaps the magazine shut, chucking it back into the box, then flops back on her bed with a groan. “Why does saving the world have to be so fucking boring ?”

“You’d have to ask Marlene,” he sighs.

She pauses.

That’s not a bad idea, actually.

They’re finishing up the daily blood draw when she poses the question.

“Why can’t we go outside?”

“What?” Marlene is looking down, distracted by something in a file.

“Outside. Y’know, the opposite of inside. Trees and fresh air and shit.”

She scoffs. “It’s too risky.”

“There’s no infected–”

“Because I have men out there holding a perimeter,” she says. “We see hordes come through on a regular basis and we redirect them, but it doesn’t always work. We haven’t had a lockdown yet but it’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s not like we’d go far–”

“It’s not about that. You are too important. The answer is no.”

“C’mon man,” she whines. “It’s dead in here.”

“No, it’s alive in here, Ellie. That’s the point. At best, you’re a sitting duck and a target. At worst, you’re dead meat.”

Ellie looks back at Joel as if to get his help, but he’s pretending to be engrossed in his book again. Jerk.

“Even just outside the door, maybe?” Ellie tries. “Or what about an open window downstairs–”

“No.”

“So you just get to keep me locked up in here, is that it? Might as well be chained to the fucking radiator again.”

Marlene folds her arms. “You’re not a prisoner, Ellie, but there are sacrifices you need to make. This is one of them.”

“This is bullshit,” she spits.

Joel clears his throat behind her and Marlene wheels around, glaring.

“There’s a courtyard on the first floor,” he says after a pause. “Closed in. Looks pretty overgrown, no access from the outside.”

Marlene sighs. “I’m well aware–”

“Looks like two, three entrances at most. Put guards around. I’ll be with her.”

Marlene’s nostrils flare as Ellie looks back and forth between them.

“Just an hour or so once in a while. Kid needs fresh air,” Joel mutters. “You said it yourself, she ain’t a fuckin’ prisoner.”

Marlene huffs a long-suffering sigh, but something in her relents.

“I’ll see what we can do.”

Joel

Two days later, they’re escorted to the first floor by a trio of Fireflies. Ellie is practically vibrating with excitement. A few weeks in this place and the tiniest amount of freedom is enough to make her giddy.

Joel swallows his discontent and tries to take comfort in seeing her smile. And when the doors open into the courtyard, overgrown as it is, she practically disappears into the greenery.

“Ellie!”

He’s startled by her speed. The moment her sneakers touch the dirt floor she’s off and ducking between shrubs and branches, out of sight before he can blink.

“Joel! It’s a jungle!” her voice rings out from somewhere ahead.

And it is. The trees have grown so thick and tall that the whole area is shrouded in shade. He wanders after her, pushing branches and large fronds aside. It’s just starting to warm up, and what little sunlight filters through the canopy overhead is a balm. It’s hardly a garden, but after weeks in the cold, sterile confines of the hospital, it feels like an oasis in a concrete desert.

He can hear her up ahead, muttering to herself like she does when she’s pretending, something about a secret temple, a wild and unexplored planet and some doctor person from those comics she reads.

“Rarr!”

Ellie jumps out from behind a bush, fingers splayed like claws. He starts, and she grins a little maniacally. “Scared?”

“Terrified,” he drawls, but her enthusiasm is contagious.

At the center of the courtyard is a stone fountain, crumbling and covered by leaves and detritus. Ellie stands over it, fascinated, watching bugs skitter along the surface of the shallow pool of stagnant water. She looks up at his approach, grinning.

“It’s so cool out here.”

“Reckon it’s a nice change of pace,” he agrees, mindful of the guards lingering around the perimeter.

“Let’s play a game! Hide and seek?”

“Uh, I dunno if that’s–”

But she’s already off, yelling at him to count to fifty and don’t you dare peek, motherfucker . He makes it to twenty before his nerves have him running off to look for her. It takes him several minutes–several excruciating, harrowing minutes–of searching under brush and around trees and skirting the edges of the courtyard, calling her name and feeling every one of his fifty-six years. As he’d suggested, there are guards posted at both entrances, and he catches their looks of smug amusement when he crashes by, but none of them give up her location.

It takes far too long to find her, although in truth it’s probably only five minutes. He’s saved by the sound of scraping against bark and a soft, “oh, shit!” from one of the trees. He looks up to find her standing on a branch, arms wrapped around the trunk, grinning down at him.

“Found you,” he says, hoping he does a decent job of hiding the panic in his voice. “Get down from there, you’re gonna break your neck.”

“Am not,” she says, easing herself down onto the branch and dropping to the ground. “See? Easy. Ow, fuck.”

“You hurt?”

“Nah,” she says, sitting at the base of the tree, pulling up her jeans to examine her left knee. “Well, maybe a scratch.”

He bites his lip, has to sit down next to her in the dirt to calm his racing heart. “I don’t like this game.”

“That’s just ’cause you suck at it,” she preens.

“Sure,” he grumbles as she flops down onto her back and stares up at the rustling leaves.

“What do you think it’ll be like? After?”

“After what?”

“Y’know. We go back to Tommy’s…you become a famous sheep rancher…I start my astronaut training,” she says lightly.

Joel cocks his head, thinking. “They have a school, if I’m rememberin’ right.”

“Ugh. Barf.”

“Bet it’s a better school than FEDRA.”

“That’s a pretty fucking low bar.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs. “Prob’ly get a house. I’m sure they’ll have construction work…don’t know how good I’d be, I’m outta practice, but…I’m sure I’d find somethin’.”

She wrinkles her nose, chews on her lower lip for a little bit. “Do you think Jackson has a place for orphans or do they do, like, a foster family thing, or…?”

He looks down at her, brow furrowed. “I dunno. I, uh…figured…you’d stay with me.”

“Oh,” she says softly.

“Did you…not want that?” he says, chest tightening uncomfortably.

She shrugs. “I just thought…before, you said…”

Sure as hell ain’t your dad.

He pales. Shame gnaws at him, turns his stomach. All those weeks together after Jackson, after everything they’d been through, he'd let her assume she was still on her own. He was such a fucking asshole.

“We didn’t talk about it,” she continues quietly. “So…I just…didn’t know.”

“Ellie,” he nudges her. “I want you to stay with me, if that’s what you want.”

She shrugs, but she won’t look at him.

“I’m–I’d be lucky to…to have you,” he says shakily. “Guess I shoulda said it sooner, but…I mean it, kid. No…no orphanages or foster homes or any a’ that. You’re with me. Alright?”

The last words come out in a rush as his throat tightens.

She shrugs again, but her eyes shine and she finally smiles. “Yeah. That’d be cool, I guess.”

“Yeah?” He smiles back. “It’s a deal.”

“Besides, you’ll need someone to take care of you in your old age,” she smirks. “I’m not changing your diapers though.”

He thinks of an off-handed joke over a long-ago breakfast, surprised to find the memory doesn’t hit so hard, doesn’t ache the way it usually does. It’s a relief and not, like he’s letting go of something.

Shaking his head, he stands up, wipes off the seat of his pants. “Ever played Marco Polo?”

“No…”

“It’s a game. Kinda like hide and seek but it’s, uh…”

Less nerve-wracking , he thinks, biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s slower,” he finishes instead. “Get up here. Close your eyes an’ keep ‘em closed.”

She grins and stands, making a show of squeezing her eyes shut. “Now what?”

“When you say ‘Marco’ I have to say ‘Polo’ and you have to try to tag me.”

“With my eyes closed? That’s not fair.”

“Gotta use your ears.”

She giggles. “So you’ll suck at this, too, huh?”

“Reckon I will,” he sighs, cracking his back, thinking he’s getting way too old for this. But she’s grinning with her hands covering her eyes, and he thinks he can manage a little longer. For her.

“Alright, kid. Count to ten.”

#the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou fafic #tlou fanfiction #joel and ellie

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nescaveckwriter · 7 months ago

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Smoky Old Barrooms, Saving Grace & Guitars - Chapter Three

A/N: … Y'all this one is just so Awwww we find out what's the matter with Grace, we meet her sister Kelly and her fiancé Benny, and then we see what Dean is feeling and the rest is just beautiful but sad moments. I hope y'all like it, also just a little side note, the song/poem that was used was written by me. Okayz that's it for now my bugs, I hope you enjoy, let me know okay. Love y'all, bye-bye Warnings: 18+ Only Mentions of a medical condition, bit swearing, heartache, Characters: Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Benny Lafitte, Grace Tucker, Kelly Tucker Words: 1474 Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories

Also song is: Charles Esten "Out of the blue" - Yes I am struggling with my Signal, some stuff works the rest doesn't. Xo but anywayz love y'all.

There's melodies playing over the radio station as the Chevy Impala roars down the road, Dean hums with the Led Zeppelin song, as he takes in the early sunrise, he always tries to drive out to the spot where he clears his mind, sometimes with some black coffee, other times with some beer or bourbon, it just really depends on the mood. But this morning he feels lighter, after the last couple of weeks, he met that beautiful woman again, turns out she was the other artist Bobby wanted him to sing with, not that he's complaining, there's something about her, he just can't explain, but her light is so contagious, she seems so carefree so happy. Oh damn and her voice, she sounds like an southern angel. The Radio presenter breaks his deep thoughts. "And now, what we all have been waiting for, Ladies and Gents, Cowboys and Cowgirls, the one and only Grace Tucker" Dean immediately turns the radio up, what are the odds.

Her sweet voice comes over the speaker, "Howdy Rick," she let's out a soft giggle "I'm so honored to be here with y'all, thank you for having me"

"So tell me Grace, how did you manage it to bring out two albums in a year?"

"I've got a great manager and producer, Kelly, my sister, and if the creativity has a hold of you, you got to run with it"

Laughing now, "It must be fun working with your sister?"

"Yes, she is amazing, she keeps me in line and helps me remember the important stuff, I love her so much, and wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for her, and all of you of course"

"You don't see family working so closely together anymore, so tell me Grace, do you think your new album with reach platinum status?"

Laughing, "I'm not sure, I guess it depends if the listeners will like it"

"Tell us a bit more about your song's please"

"Well Rick I draw inspiration from everyday situations and experiences, it's mostly about things about the heart you know, we all take it for granted sometimes, but its one of the most complex parts of our human existence"

"I have no words Grace, that is enough to make some of our listeners cry so early in the morning"

Grasping "Oh my, I'm sorry, not my intention, but I love it when it awakens everyone's emotions"

"Miss Tucker, that's the one thing all of your songs, does, so without further due, would you please sing us a little something"

"Oh I would love to, thank you, y'all will be the first that hear my new single" Picking up the guitar, adjusting the microphone, smiling "this one's called, 'No Good No More' I hope y'all enjoy it"

I heard the news today

No use for any further delay

My heart's no good no more What else could I ask for

A few more years Without all the heartaches and tears

A few more memories A few more stories

Could someone please tell me why Why I should leave And say goodbye Help me to believe

In something more than just me Leaving behind what I know, how can this be

I've gotten the news today And there's no other way to say

My heart's no good no more It will never be the same as before

So with one last wave I ask you to keep this memories save.

I will walk away right about now Before this heartache starts to show

The moment her sweet voice stopped, the were hands clapping over the radio, Dean sat there, looking out over the city on that hilltop, he felt mesmerized, that felt so personal, so real and authentic, the question is who would break her heart.

As she walked out of the studio, to the parking space, that's when she felt the old familiar wooziness, heart beating rapidly it feels like a drummer's trying to figure, if he's playing a rock or a love song, dryness in her mouth, croakiness in her throat, the ground and sky is spinning in front of her eyes, a total blur in front her eyes, trying to get something to hold onto, to steady her in place, but nothing it didn't take long for her body to plunge towards the ground, she just sat there in the middle of the road, trying to find her balance, find strength to get up, but the exhaustion took over, placing her hand over her chest, trying to calm it down, she used the other hand to pull out her phone, pressing down '1' she's got her sister on speed dial, it felt like the phone was ringing forever, her voice friendly "Hey Gracie, what's up? Done at the studio?"

She can barely form audible words, "Kelly, help" is all she could get out, before her world turned dark.

"Grace, Gracie, come on, open your eyes for me please sweetie" Kelly pleaded

Her eyes started to open slowly, glancing into her sister's brown watery eyes, her voice hoarse "Hey sis, you came"

Overjoyed "Of course, I came you called, you scared the hell out of me, you know that?"

Coming up to her elbows, realizing she's in her sisters bedroom, the only noticing Kelly's fiancé, "Oh hey Benny!, didn't see you there" looking in her sisters direction again, "I'm sorry Sis, I didn't mean too"

Benny just nodded, when she said hello, but he stays quiet for most of this, he struggles to find the right words, how does he comfort the love of his life, when they all know the inevitable, its only a matter of time, before Grace says goodbye forever. It broke Kelly when Grace told her, she's in her final stage of heart failure, the doctors said she had a year left, maybe! He's the one who hold's his bride to be, sobbing in his arms every night. This is supposed to be a joyful time for him and Kelly, but instead their heartbroken, he's known Grace for ten years and she's like a little sister to him. He can't deny it, the moments when he's not around Kelly or working he would occasionally break down as well, due to the fact of how unfair life is. No one deserves it, especially not her. Kelly's voice shook him out of his deep thoughts. "Baby, could you please grab a glass of water" nodding "On it darling" Benny said with a small smile curving on his handsome features.

"Grace, you need too take it slower, please, you need to get enough rest"

She just faintly nods, her voice brittle "I'm sorry, I will I promise" Kelly sits down on the bed, wrapping her arms over her sister's fragile body, kissing the top of her head, saying softly "I love you Sis"

Tears streaming over her cheeks "I love you too!" trying too clear her throat she breaths "I'm scared"

Kelly thumbs away the tears, trying to cover the pain in her voice, "Me too sis, me too"

Seeing the old man, with his ball cap sitting at the table busy with the contract that was sent him, for Dean's and Grace's duet.

"Hey Bobby, how's things looking, when can we start with the tour?"

Irritation clear on the old features, "I am not sure if this is going to work boy, Grace's manager has stipulated that the two of you can do the show together, but there will be no touring"

Confused "But why? I thought the whole point of this, was to release an album and do a country wide tour, maybe even world wide!"

"Exactly, I will get on the phone and set up a meeting with her immediately"

"Thank you Bobby, I really want to make this album with her, I've even started working on a couple of new songs"

Bobby just smiled and nodded.

"Speaking of songs, do you know if everything is alright with Benny, he just ran out, after he had a call from his fiancé and I haven't heard a word from him yet, we are supposed to work on that new song?"

Bobby just shook his head and went on with reading the contract further, making notes about what he wanted to remember.

Dean just walked out of the office, humming Grace's new song to himself, it's stuck in his head but he doesn't really mind, everything about her is burned into his memory, her sweet angel voice, the stage lights dancing around in her eyes, her strawberry hair flowing in the night sky, and then her lips, wondering what it tasted like, knowing he probably shouldn't , but he's falling in love with her, he felt alive for the first time in so long, new music is running through his veins, as for his heart, it was somewhere between beating rapidly and coming to a stand still. Wondering if she might feel the same.

#smoky_old_barrooms_saving_grace-guitars #nescveckwriter #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spotify #benny lafitte

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fastlegzeicecloudfan · 28 days ago

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AL Inktober days 11-13.

TW mention of $u1c1d€

Day 11. "N goNNa jump" headcanon comic by me. How nice it is to draw my own promt. I decided to develop idea with arrows from preview further and it came to this. I think this comic needs no introduction, so I send you to check out either dub video or comic itself.

Day 12. Wild West AU by DemVics. After dramatic days I wanted to draw something more silly, something in spirit of children's shows about cowboys. And there is same vibe in canon NL.

T and S stole some jewelry again and E and W end up sorting everything out, every Saturday the same thing.

Day 13. The Lost Curious Princess by Maddeleine_is_Here.

It seems that, unlike Homicide, this fanfic is presented as more thoughtful and serious. However, it’s frustrating to see that potential seeds for global plot, which was Well of Wishes, chthonic something from there and war for P, which was in fact sparingly mentioned at beginning of Chapter 10, are simply forgotten and attention is paid primarily to Yuma and her relationship with OCs, which only draws attention to itself and it's not clear why they are needed here at all. Even story of Yuma looking for her brother got lost in background. I really want to ask: what is this fanfic really about? And what interesting things are we supposed to catch there? So I demonstrated one missed potential. At the same time, in same Chapter 10, another interesting moment appeared related to Han, his backstory and how Yuma, such princess of positivity and good mood, essentially drives lost child to despair. I would like to see reaction to this case from both kingdoms, as well as from individuals like conditional friends. Maybe even Fukura will intervene and support with word, he, like no one else, is close to theme of resentment, guilt and terrible upheavals in life. This would reveal both king and internal relations between members of his kingdom, and would increase discontent there with fact that PRINCESS of kingdom of POSITIVITY managed to cause harm, and then conflicts. And same Well with chthonic would loom and loom...

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#alphabet #alphabet friends #alphabet lore #alphabet series #artwork #art #digital art #inktober #inktober 2024 #inktober challenge #inktober art

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martyryo · 2 months ago

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how do you pick out such cool colors and outfits?!? :000 i love your art :3

HIII, THANKS KNOWING YOU ENJOY JT MAKES ME SO HAPPY AWAWAWAWAW😭❤️❤️

Also, I'm sorry if answers will disappoint you but I don't have a thought behind color picking. Truth is lately I've been just using colors I like, trying to make them fit to the overall vibe of the drawing.

For example, in the vamp marla drawings I used a dark moldy orange cause it reminded me of rust and decay, and with that I added some tilted bright magenta lines to contrast it and make it pop. That's it. And to figure them out I just kept modifying the hue until I liked the combination. So I guess, play around with colors, be silly :3

Oh also lines and halftones play a big role in my drawings. I don't like having many elements of the same value one next to the other, cause they don't make each other stand out. (imagine a plain outfit with EVERYTHING black. Nothing else. Kinda boring).

I try in fact to put dark areas next to brighter ones so their shapes are more distinct to the sight (the eyes in the drawing for example wouldn't be so visible if there wasn't the dark eyeshadow to drag your eyes towards them. The hair has subtle black lines as texture while the skin has halftones, this makes the brain perceive them as different).

Now for the outfits...well, since the past months I've been drawing the same 3 blorbos in their canon fits, soooo use reference I would say... referencing things is always the best thing you can do, from fits and especially colors if you're trying to obtain a certain mood or atmosphere (and I be forgetting cause I'm lazy but don't be like me 💥).

I did design the following fits out of raw imagination, but I needed some reference for cowboy and pirate fits on pinterest.

In these cases I tried to add some recurring patters for each of them.

Narrator has many horizontal lines going on on the pants (design and the dangly things on the side) while also having like two belts and a string. More lines yippie!

With marla I went with earrings matching the necklace, while also adding lace (is that how it's called??) on the rims of her top, glove things and collar. For her top and skirt I went with vertical lines that are also present on her stockings while cloak/scarf has those repeating things at the end (me when I don't know clothing vocabulary).

Tyler has kinda the more boring fit cause I was getting tired. I was trying to go with items of the upper body being tighter while having large pants with bug boots, kinda triangle shaped, but ehh I need to work more on that. Reoccurring would be the flowy clothes folds cause I view them as soft materials contrasted with a more rough vest. I tried to add on that soap bubbles patterns but it's kind of a weak effect so fnenrne.

Again. Reference. And taking breaks between designs cause your brain at some point has enough of your ideas.

Uhmm idk if all this yapping in an okay answer for you, I spent all afternoon trying to analyze my drawings and I was going insane. But I thank you for asking cause you made me realize I should adapt to a stable technique huehue =w=

Also for school work, when I need to pick colors, the website I linked below is the tool I always use. You can search for an already existing palette or generate a random one u.u

Lmk if you wanna know anything else, I'll try my best to answer. Have a great day <3

#rottedsonnets #ask #I'm a chronic yapper I'm so sorry 😭

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atvace · 10 months ago

Text

Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Chapter 11: Her Desire

"My sources told me they hosted a drinking party between the elites," He dropped down a few papers consisting of a few highlighted texts scattered around the table. "There will be the VIPs all around Las Almas gathering in." He rolled a map of Las Almas and pointed at a specific manoir.

"La casa de sin nombre?" Soap raised his eyebrow reading the manoir name in the map, "Actually no, it's one of their lugartenientes." Alejandro shrugged. "A cartel lieutenant..." The huge forehead chuckled, "You're learning, hermano." he ruffled some of the papers.

"Some are invited to the meet some are uh..." Alejandro rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Volun-told?" Graves raised his eyebrow "Yes-". Soap peered at the map, examining the terrains around the house. "What's the gathering about?" He asked, "Well, apparently they do this every Sunday night but this time there'll be a meeting too." He took a ballpoint and scribbled a few.

"And maybe about us too." He drops the pen down and tilts to Graves. "Las Almas is burning, and they want to know how lit the fire." Alejandro bit the inside of his cheek.

"Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?" Ghost rests his hand on the table. "No guarantees but this is our best shot. The least we can do is have a little more detail on intels."

Graves gripped his own vest before clicking his tongue, "So, how do we make it inside? It's a drinking party we can't just violently get in. We need El Sin Nombre alive." Everyone gazes at each other, then slowly shifts at you munching on Mexican ghost pepper chips.

"What?" You asked with a stuffed mouth.

Alejandro let out a cheeky grin before tilting his head to Ghost, "Don't tell me." The Lt shook his head, "Dior, can you speak basic Spanish?" Ale turned to you.

"Se espanol basica? si." You raised your eyebrow at his objection. Alejandro smiled, "Rodolfo, Give her something fancy! and a party mask." He walks towards the weapon armory. "Yes, boss." Rodolfo left the room in a swift. "That'll honestly do, I'll have my men on overwatch." Graves shrugged.

"Dior, you will infiltrate inside the mansion as a prostitute," Alejandro stated from afar. "Oh, fuck yeah. my time to shine, bitch." You excitedly put the bag of chips on the table and rubbed your stained finger to the vest, unbuckling it because you're going to change clothes anyway.

"You go by car with Soap, we'll drop you off by the main entrance. my men will be there to escort you inside," He grabbed something from a compartment. "He has a green suit, yeah?" He threw a set of small earpieces towards you which you caught with your left hand. "Easy does it." You slip it inside your right ear. It was too big for your ear entrance so you just slip it slightly.

"Don't engage with any mafia, be careful with your words, your fake name is..." Alejandro paused for a moment, "Valentina." You cooed jokingly. "Sure." Your lips parted in shock, you made up that name as a joke. "Pack up, vamos!" Alejandro left to get in the garage to announce the operation.

You pouted your lip trying to think of something, but you felt a presence in your side. "prostitute?" Ghost's deep voice could never fail to startle you now. "Yea, what about it, Casper. you want a piece of my pussy?" You sneered. "Thought it belonged to the cowboy hence he made you quite loud last night." He said whispering to your ear level before leaving.

'AIN'T NO GODDAMN WAY I WAS THAT LOUD LAST NIGHT' You shot his back with a small smile, even though he didn't see it he can feel it. your eyes twitched in embarrassment and your hand turned into a fist irritatedly.

Grave's hand was about to land on you but you uncomfortably dodged him, He turned his palm into a fist and awkwardly rested it to his hips. "So, Dior the sneaky infiltration again?" He chuckles at you, "Yea." Your short remark was enough to make him accept his defeat and leave with Alejandro.

Soap catches up to you which draws back your mood, "You okay, Dior? What'd Ghost said?" His smile warms your head by little. "Oh, nothing. He's just threatening me to not fuck this up." You lied, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly.

"I think you're a great lurker," Soap said to you as you two walked together. "Well, this time I'm going undercover. I hope I didn't get carried away." You sneered at the thought of dancing on the floor in front of mafias. "Well, then don't! gather info and flee." He remarkably said.

"Easier said than done."

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

You smeared your Glossier lipgloss across your lips giggling, kicking your feet, So excited about your mission. this is definitely your type of mission, you love your job, you live for this moment, and you are going to execute this with no hassle. Rodolfo definitely has a taste! he gave you a bodycon red slit dress with a long satin gloves in the same color. You look divine. (You always do)

"Excited, are you?" Soap's claim made you tilt, "Ah- Of course! Who wouldn't be?!" You grinned, "I love lurking in, pretending to be the spy girl in the mansion. I'm going to be the center of attention!" You swayed your hair.

"Yes, but you shouldn't expose your thighs too much, yeah?" Your smile drops and you look at him ferociously, "You've got exactly three seconds to take back what you say before I rip that fucking mohawk." His shoulder flinched a bit, his hand reached his pocket. "I'm so sorry, my lady I did not mean what I said earlier- Captain Price wanted me to give you this." He lends you what seems like a black belt with a knife pocket in it. "For emergency." He smiles as your eyes soften.

"My hands are full. Just put it beside me." You said reapplying a mascara. He paused for a moment before bending down to your side, You stopped whatever you were doing and watched him shift his hand to your knee and then your left thigh. the harsh surface of his gloves sharpens your breath, and the way he adjusted the belt thumps your heart harder. the way his fingers softly contact the soft flesh of your thighs turns you slightly red. He tightens the strap creating two hills between the black belt.

"That'll do." He got up and sat back to the seat.

You were stunned by the action he pulled. regaining consciousness, you pull your dress down so the strap isn't visible. "Very well, Mr. Soap. Very well," You look away at the car window watching the near-dusk scenery of Las Almas until the car stops in front of a cab.

You watched Soap exit the car and open the car door for you, lending you his hand. As you got up, he slowly held your hand escorted you to the white car, and opened the door for you again. "Stay safe, yeah?" "Thank you, Soap." You got in gracefully and stayed in the car.

As the car drove, you rested your chin on your hand looking out the window. scanning the mansion from your naked eye; there were multiple spots that were exposed to the outside. you figured your team should set up a sniper from. one of the taller buildings. seeing the tall black gate visible from the distance, you pull the party mask to your eye level, enough to give a little anonymity to your face. "I'm green." You coded to the radio. "Good, get back one piece." Ghost tuned into your earpiece.

The green-suited man has a mask covering his face like Ghost's but in grey. his eyes gave you the look before slithering his hand around your waist. As the two of you walked into the mansion and entered the elevator, his hand slipped a piece of paper into your gloves. you tapped twice at his finger as a code that you received it.

the sound of the elevator ding is heard and you walk outside toward the crowd of people. there was multiple outdoor pool with the green hills you saw when you were outside earlier. "Senora." A waiter handed you a tall drink, "Gracias." You awkwardly accept it and scooted over to the crowd light dancing.

you swayed your hips a few times and hummed to the unfamiliar lyric music blasting in a not too deafening volume. You rejected a few hands that tried to pull you. but in multiple times you gazed and one specific eyes, but you're not sure whos orbs those belong to.

A few men and woman with mask covering their faces lent you their hand but you dont plan on making any contact with those people. hence you're undercove rwith a knife up in your thighs.

In the left corner of your eye, you saw a glimps of a dark hazel orbs piercing at your shoulders like an eagle observing their prey. You tilt your head to the side slightly to see a woman few olders than you menacingly watching you from afar.

'Gyatt dayum,' you look away from her again.

You tilt your head to her again to check her out, 'Ooh she's a short hair.' you mentally giggled to yourself while pretending to look away.

You tried to steal another look of her but you've lost her. sighing in defeat, you decided to walk out of the crowd towards one of the outdoor pools. You expose yourself outside while pressing your bottom lip with the fancy glass, "All stations, I have eyes on Dior." Ghost's voice buzzed into your ear. You raised your glass to the hill where you think Ghost is and went back inside. But as you turned around, you bumped into someone and accidentally knocked your own glass to your chest, pouring the alcohol all over your torso. "Ah-"

Everyone's eyes pinned on you in an instant. "Dior, report on the situation. Why is everyone stunned?" Grave's voice echoed to your radio. "Ah, Lo siento, senoras." The woman that bumped into you walked towards you. "Dior, do you copy?" Ghost's voice gave a hint of annoyance.

"Ah, esta bien." You try to pat your soaked chest but nobody can get their eyes off you. The woman seemed irritated at the people staring at you. "Siguema." She grabbed your hand, pulling you into her close. the two of you fast walked toward a different elevator. you saw her tapping a card and pressed floor 2.

'AINT NO GODDAMN WAY SHE'S THE SAME PERSON EARLIER' you thinly smile to yourself as you stare at your arm squashed by her palm. she has a similar combat gloves as Alejandro's.

you were stunned at everything happening too fast but you tried to picture the woman that is probably helping you right now. She has cold-dark brown eyes with short black hair and a sharp eye. She wore some kind of a black turtleneck with dusty white jeans. in a few moments after staring at her, the elevator revealed the second floor. you followed her to a room with a large sofa and a few wardrobes.

"Sientate, te lo debo." She walked to one of the wardrobes and slid it open. You sat on the sofa and tried your best to gather your composure. after a few minutes, she turned to you and threw a pair of black sweater. "Pontelo. Mi agradecimiento." She stated with a slightly cold tone. You rest your palm to the folded sweater and looked at her, "que?" She crossed her arm to her chest whilst looking down on you.

"...Gracias, tu eres linda." You softly said, trying to sound convincing. You dug your head inside the sweater and poked your head out of the hole, but you see her face an inch close to yours, "I knew that you're not from around here. Who are you?" She squinted her eyes to see you. You felt caged but you need to improvise. "I'm a prostitute." You blurted out.

"What the fuck," She sneers which made something inside you twitched. "Puta prostituta." She nodded slightly at your stance. "..si?" You gave an obvious guilty smile. Out of the sudden, she slapped and grip your left thigh. You got slightly startled from her sudden action, letting out a soft moan.

She raised her eyebrow at your reaction and laughed, "Oh coño, you poor thing. Did I startled you, conejita?" She sneered at you degradingly. "I mean it's technically MY job," You gulped. "But since you gave me this sweater, maybe I'll let you have me for free?" You shot her an innocent stare. after a slight pause between the two of you, she scoffed and flashed a wicked eye.

"Who do you think am I?" She gripped your jaw to make you look closer at her. "My next." You confidently answered. "es esto lo que esperas de mi?" She poked your groin as you arched your head back. "maldita perre zorra, Es esto lo que quieres?" She knitted her eyebrow and pinched your clit through your dress. "Oh God-" "What tis your name, maldita?" She lets go of your crotch now crawling to you whilst pinning your hands beside you. one of her knee edged your clit.

"Answer me, you imbicile." She placed a pressure to your wrist and sensitive abdomen. "V-Valentina." You gasped for air. "Valentina? que interesante." She snickered. "Me pregunto si Valentina quiere que Valeria la ponga como una, puta." She whispered to your red ear and chuckled at your whinings.

You prayed to God she leave your panties alone because your undercover will be revealed. she thumped her knee multiple times into your sensitive covered sensitive entry while now devouring your neck, whispering unladylike wordd in spanish whilst her sharp long nails with coated red polish bruised your underjaw.

"Enjoyed checking me out, down there, Hm?" She shift her hand to make you face her. "Didn't expect you to look different from their papers," She smirked. "They didn't joke about sending me the best one." Your eyes widens at her remarks.

"Cuando bailas ahí atras", she impatiently flung one of your legs onto her shoulder "Me llamaste la atencion." She dug her knee even deeper into you. probably now bruising your entrance. "ahora tengo el tuyo." she smirked at the mess she making you.

The way she draws your body with her hands, shifting from your wrist to your collarbone and teasing the shape of your breasts between her sweater. you felt her hand gliding up and down motioning to memorise your body through her touch.

"tu gusta este?" She smirked in your cheeks while the tip of her thumb circled your cave slowly. you eyes rolled inside your skull, still mentally praying she didn't notice the knife strap Soap wore for you. "Make more noises, puta." Her thumb presses harder making a damp with your wetness.

Your whines turned into a moaning mess, your well-do hair is now a bird nest. She laughs at the side of your neck biting your earlobe, "Me gusta tu voz, let's take thi-"

Her words are cut off by a knocking door. "Boss, tienes una persona." a man spoke from the other side of the door making her groan. "Callate!" she shouted towards the door before grunting in annoyance, "Hey." She places her finger on your chin, "Don't think I'm done with you." She said leaving with a smile. "I'll get your contract extended."

Watching her left, "contract extended?" you quickly took out the paper that Alejandro's intel slid into your gloves. carefully reading the handwriting, it said 'segunda planta, 02 02 19' You rolled your eyes and crumpled the paper. "Very helpful, thank you."

You sat on the sofa dumbfounded with soggy panties. you looked behind you and saw a dark-tinted glass window, Without thinking twice you tapped the window and gazed around it. From up there, you saw Soap getting checked up by the guards before his head was sunk into a sack and forcefully manhandled into the mansion.

you gasped softly at the sight and tried to get into your radio. "This is Dior from the seco-" Your hand felt empty and your eyes widened after realizing your earpiece was gone. "Oh shit." You dug your whole palm inside your ear just to find it empty.

You quickly shuffled towards the door and turned the knob multiple times. just to have another realization that the door is locked from the outside. "OH SHIT." You breathed heavily and held your forehead to balance out your mind with the situation that happened. "No fucking way I'm trapped here to be a sex slave. fuck!" You walked around the room to think of a solution. "...And she DOES hiring a sex buddy. WHAT IF I GOT CAUGHT," You frustratedly run your mantled fingers across your scalp.

Let's learn how to break through your problem. You lost your earpiece, you have no contact with your teams whatsoever. Your only weapon is your knife but you can't use that yet because we don't want to break the glass with it, it'll be too noisy. You have a ticking time bomb before the REAL prostitute actually comes.

'Check the wardrobes.' The insides of your head echoed a voice in your mind.

You sprinted to one of the wooden wardrobes and furiously opened every single one of them. just to be disappointed that there are only dark-colored random clothes.

There was a military vest, few cargo pants, multiple pairs of jeans, and a hat. you took out the jeans and a few sweaters out of the wardrobe and ran back to the window, calculating the height of the building.

"This is some Rapunzel shit," you muttered whilst trying to tie the jeans and sweaters together.

Flashback

"Dior, Do you copy?" Ghost tuned into the radio watching you unfolding a scene by the pool. "Dior- bloody fucking hell." He gripped his sniper holster in annoyance, "What's wrong, Ghost?" Soap took out a telescope to see you from the distance getting dragged by a woman. "Oh yeah, that's bad."

"Did the princess drop her earpiece? Her signal seemed disconnected." Graves stared at Soap while staring at his combat tab and munching on a bread he packed himself for. "Well, that's on me. I think I gave her the wrong size." Alejandro rubbed the back of his head. "Fair blame." Ghost scoffed.

"If we decided that she's under hostage situation, I've got enough shadow to take over the whole damn country." Graves threw his wrapper off the building and walked towards the other. "I prefer if you didn't." Alejandro felt a little grudge in his tone.

Graves scoffed, "I'm just sayin, one house and a hostage wouldn't be a problem." He flexes. "We need el sin nombre and Dior alive." Alejandro knitted his eyebrow, "well... what if we meet him in person." The commander tilts to Soap.

"How?"

"Give them what they want. Dior is out of reach with no coms, but I'm sure she figured something." Graves gripped his vest. "Tell them intel, they wanna know whose here? tell 'em." Grave's expression stayed relaxed.

"In person?" Alejandro sharply stared at Graves. "Correcto." He slightly nodded. "Get one of us inside, find Dior, get to the boss, pack 'em up." He palms his knuckles. The three men paused for a few moments before Soap broke the silence.

"I'll do it."

Alejandro's eyes soften to Soap, "You go in there, they'll kill you, Hermano. we're not even sure if Dior is still alive." He slightly shook his head. "That's fine, I'll take my chances. Dior is inside, there's a possibility she's still alive. There's a missile we need to stop." Soap convinced. "I'll get inside, find Dior then offer intel to El Sin Nombre."

Ghost's sigh is heard as Soap continues. "And if they're there, we pounce." He finishes. Alejandro chuckled like a proud dad before resting his hand on Soap's shoulder. "Demonios si. tienes las pelotas es cabron."

Alejandro took off his vest, "To make it in, you'll need eyes and ears. I'll go too." He smiles. "I'll stay on overwatch again. Shadow circles the target on a helo." Ghost turns to Graves after Alejandro's decision. "Roger that."

Graves was about to reach his radio but stopped, "Oh if they want proof." He ripped off a Shadow Company badge from his vest. "Show 'em this." Soap took a good look at the ripped badge before fist-bumping Graves. "Call me when you need me." Graves walked towards the other side of the building. "Alright, let's gear up and get after it."

a little longer than a few minutes later

Soap's face was shoved into the elevator after getting questioned by El Sin Nombre. The female Sicaria leaned herself to the side of the elevator watching Soap stumbled. Diego slaps three of the buttons going from the basement to the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd floor. "Penthouse." He mumbles.

"Los Vaqueros is moving fast," He faced Valeria. "I'll be in the penthouse with sin nombre." She said in a cold tone whilst the sound of the elevator went up. "When do I see el sin nombre?" Soap's question made the two sicarios snickered. "Valeria is going to speak with the boss, you will wait with the others," Diego said with a hint of threat.

"I have a feeling, El Sin Nombre will be... very interested in talking to you." Valeria spat venom through her words. After a minute, the elevator dings. watching the elevator door unraveling, Soap flooded out his overthinking while it was greeted by a guard with a mask.

Soap walked out of the elevator, "This is where you wait, Soap." The mohawk slowly walks out of the elevator with a guard leaning by the side outside the lift. "Estaré en la ofrenda. No interruptan." Diego spoke coldly as the guard shoved soap against the window. "Si Señor." The guard deepen his voice as he patted Soap's body down.

"You're alive..." Alejandro's familiar voice relieves Soap's tense muscle. "Alejandro? You too mate." He muttered back. "El Sin Nombre's in the penthouse, third floor." "We'll need a keycard." Alejandro replied again.

"Diego has it." Alejandro searched his pocket. "Take this." he handed soap a throwing knife. "Sweet." Soap gladly stored it in his pocket. "This too," He handed Soap a white full head mask. "Why a mask?" Soap wore it anyway. "Some people here can't be seen with the cartel. comms are hooked in."

"Got it."

"You're good, let's head out."

Alejandro and Soap tried their best to not be seen too close together as they walked towards what seemed like a kitchen. The people on the floor have either left or somewhere else. it wasn't so crowded like earlier. "What've you got?" Ghost turned into Soap's radio. "El Sin Nombre is in the penthouse. third floor." Soap spoke softly.

"None of Dior?" Soap paused himself before answering, "Negative." Ghost's sigh is heard faintly through, Alejandro frowns at his concerns. "Don't worry. We'll give a shot on the elevator, we just need Diego's keycard." He looked around the mansion watching a few guards and a backdoor to the garage.

"Where Diego?" Ghost's shifting his sniper is heard on the radio. "Ofrenda, second floor." Soap said. "I think I know how to get to him." Soap stared at an unoccupied ladder with a few vines beside it and a vertical window. "Vamos, we'll get our hands dirty," Alejandro smirked beneath his mask.

end of flashback

You sat by the window, ripping and tying some of the clothings. you felt bad for doing this but you need to get out of there. It's been around 45 minutes since you realized your earpiece is gone. the sky has turned dark and surprisingly the music is fading. You could only hear people on a phone call or just chatting with one and another.

After finally finishing the last piece, you tied the end of the long handmade rope to the sova and walked towards the window. 'It is what it is' You pulled out your knife and broke the window by the butt side and threw the rest of the rope out of the window. As you jumped out, you were flabbergasted to see someone climbing up right beside you. he had a grey shirt, dark pants with a white robbery mask. the two of you stare at each other for a good few minutes.

"Soap?!"

"Dior?!"

'PSSAT' a bullet pierced close to the two of you. Soap drew out his gun and shot the guard right in the head. "Holy shit, what did you do?!" You gripped on your rope tighter. "No time to explain! Quick, take my hand." He lent out his hand as you grab him back. He lifted you over his shoulder and threw you to the 2nd-floor balcony on the other side of your window. "Go get cover, I'll explain later." He said grunting whilst climbing. "Solid copy."

You sprinted into the building facing guard, "Hold this!" You slashed their throat by throwing your knife through their jugular vein as they dropped to the ground with a seizure. You slide on your knees to take your knife back, "Ay, 'm takin this back. thank you!" You got on your feet and ran again. the sound of alarm blaring through the hallways eeried your ears.

You stumbled across a closet and pulled it open to see a medium-sized safebox, "Let's see what you're worth." You put in the code from Alejandro's intel, As it clicks open, a few papers fly out and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

"A fucking shotgun..."

"A fucking shotgun."

You jerked your head back to see Soap leaning into the content and cluck the close-range weapon to himself. "Dior, you want my USP instead?" He offered his gun. You took it and checked the mag to see it's barely used. "Fair offer."

The two of you walked towards another balcony to get on top of the rooftop. But unfortunately, there were several guards on watchout. You peeked and threw the knife at one of the guards, jumping over to get inside and shoot the remaining guards. Soap struggled to hop inside the top with his shotgun which resulted in you getting harmed fighting alone.

"Argh-" You shot a guard's knee before kicking him down with your heels. Another guard aimed their gun at you but their head explodes from a sniper. You looked up towards another building a few miles away to see a reflection of a light showing Ghost on overwatch. "Fuck, I'm sorry. You okay?" Soap got to your side. "Just a gash, let's go." You ignored your bleeding arm and quickly caught up to Alejandro.

"Dior."

"Ale-"

"Soap!"

The three of you looked at each other before Alejandro pointed at a certain chimney. "Elevator this way, we have no time left." Soap and Alejandro sprinted towards the ladder as you tried to catch up. You grunted in pain holding your left arm that spilled out blood.

Soap jumps inside to get on the top of the elevator as Alejandro realizes you're not there. He looked down to see you holding your arm in pain, "Cariño, estás bien?" He shouted from the top. You waved your hand away at him "Go without me!"

He furrows his eyebrow and tries to lend his hand to you, "It's too dangerous!" You shook your head, "Go get El Sin Nombre, I'll be fine I promise you!" He paused for a moment looking through your eyes before deciding to leave with Soap. you sighed in relief and went the other way.

You swore you saw something when you opened that safe. The papers that flew out weren't just ordinary papers, You tried to navigate yourself back to the 2nd floor. You saw multiple guards coming but you hid and shot them from behind counters.

outruning them from the hallways, you hid yourself inside the same closet earlier. You sat and took all of the papers trying to read it in thin light. But out of a sudden, you feel a breeze from your side from the guards opening your closet door with a rifle in his hand. you screamed in fear but he dropped to the ground in an instant. Your pupils dilate at the sight of one of the words in those papers as it flutters in the air shifting away from you.

'duties signed under Ma-'

Your gaze was locked on a shadow with a handgun in his hand as he lent you his hand again, "Dior, right? we caught El Sin Nombre. Let's go!" You tried to get up but the pain in your arm stopped you and made you drop the papers down. "Shit okay-"

He picked you up by the waist and carried you, "I'm sorry," he mutters softly.

#mw2 #modern warfare 2 #task force 141 #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty mwii #alejandro vargas x reader #valeria garza #valeria mw2 #cod fanfic

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