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lindszeppelin · 2 years ago

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DIRTY DEEDS [pt. 1]

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 1970s New York. Austin is tightly wound in the Italian Mafia. Living a life of crime has it's drawbacks. Austin and his wife figure out whether enjoying the perks of being the hottest couple in the big apple with high roller power is worth their lives.

Rating: Mature. 18+.

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: Violence, physical assault, blood, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), swearing, some 70s slang/verbiage, drinking, corruption

The streets of New York City are dangerous to navigate for the uninitiated. It's not enough to be savvy with book smarts - that will only get you so far in life. Try walking down 5th Avenue at night. Even if you're the smartest person in the world who thinks they know everything, you're a damn fool. Best case scenario is you're gonna get mugged within an inch of your life, and the robbers will leave you a bloody pulp on the sidewalk like yesterday's trash. One has to be wise to the dealings of the streets. It's a dog eat dog world, and only the toughest, thick-skinned individuals can survive the Big Apple unphased.

For Austin Butler, a life of brazen crime was not one that he envisioned for himself. It seemed like he was thrust into quick sand, and before he knew which way was up it was too late. Austin was no regular Joe-Schmoe however. He was well aware of the goings on around New York City. As an actor who's climbing the social ladder and intertwining himself into the higher echelons of society, he's learned a thing or two about keeping your mouth shut and never fucking with the wrong people.

But Austin is one of the lucky ones. At least to any outsider. He came from a good, loving family who supported his dreams. While money didn't grow on trees, he was well off than most people. His parents raised him on the value of a dollar and treating others with respect. Plus, he knew what it was like to go hungry. Ever the gentle soul, he was drawn to helping the less fortunate. And New York City's growing homeless population was the perfect breeding ground for those with dastardly schemes to sink their teeth into the ripe flesh and feed.

It's no secret that the Italian community is thriving and strong, becoming the backbone of the state's culture. You can't walk down the street without seeing about three Italian restaurants, a deli serving the freshest meats, and a pizzeria selling hot pies like it's going out of style. But before New York City became rife with bigshots with bloated pockets full of hundred dollar bills wrapped in rubberbands, poor immigrant families of times yonder sailed the seas to Ellis Island. Brooklyn became a home away from home for these wandering souls. Little Italy was just a small slice of the Bronx, but everybody knew everyone's business.

One of these immigrant families ruled the city with an iron fist, and they have been for generations. The thoroughbred Sicilians named the Tenaglia's reigned supreme, offering those in need of assistance with whatever they asked for. But of course, it always came with a price. The poorest of neighbors to the high ranking officials of the city like the police were in the back pockets of the Tenaglia's. You name it - lawyers, bankers, real estate brokers, doctors and others were on bended knee to the Tenaglia's - especially to the Godfather, Don Antonio Tenaglia. And nobody batted an eyelash. It's a funny thing what money can do to a person's morale.

Austin's acting career led him to the Big Apple mostly for gigs and also for charity work on the side. It was here that he met someone that would alter the course of his life. Pellegrino Tenaglia was the youngest son of Antonio, and often considered the best looking Tenaglia - his long dark locks are always tucked nicely behind his ears, and his dark hazel eyes shine gorgeously off his olive oil tanned skin. If he wasn't knee deep in his father's business he would probably make it big as a model or movie star. Antonio made sure all his sons latched onto some kind of career where they could have a foothold in all different areas of the city. Pellegrino is a nice boy and dutifully respects his father. So he took up looking after some of the charities in the poor neighborhoods. While it's not the life that Pellegrino wanted for himself, who was he to go against the wishes of his iron fisted family? As the baby of the bunch he knew it was almost impossible for him to get a word in edgewise before he gets overshadowed by his older brothers who think they know better. He figured that while he was put into this situation, he might as well try to do some actual good for the community he was born and raised in. This was where his path with Austin would collide.

While it might seem like an unlikely match, Austin and Pellegrino bonded naturally over their love of helping the less fortunate. They were also close in age with Austin being a year older than him at 31. They struck up a friendship rather quickly, and pretty soon the laidback Tenaglia son showed Austin around to some local spots. While Pellegrino is a party animal, he likes to schmooze and have a good time. He can make quick friends with strangers in only minutes with a flash of his crooked smile and effortless charm.

Nightlife in the city was unmatched. Studio 54 was the hottest dance club to ever grace the nation - anyone who's anyone goes there to rock to the pumping music and get their picture taken for publicity. Austin was a shy man, so he doesn't get out to dance that much. But spending time with Pellegrino, who goes by Green, allowed the genteel blonde to open up more.

"You gotta get out and embrace life a little, man. I know you don't wanna be cooped up in a soup kitchen all damn day. Lemme show you the ropes." Green would say cheerily, his thick Bronx accent rolling off his tongue.

One of these particular evenings, the line at Studio 54 was reaching far around a couple of blocks. While Green could probably sweet talk the bouncers with a knowing wink and the utterance of his last name, he got the better idea to take Austin to a hole in the wall club that most people don't know about. "It's fucking awesome in here. You're gonna love it." Green would say, pushing Austin along with a firm but friendly hand on his back. Austin on the other hand is sweating bullets.

One last turn of a corner and there they were, at their destination. Green held the door of the club open for Austin and the tall man walked in with his tail tucked between his legs. If you didn't know it, one could assume Austin was on his way to get a stern lecturing from his boss based on how badly he was shaking. He was out of his element completely. But he didn't have time to convince Green to turn around and walk home. Before Austin knew it, he was already thrust to the club's bar and forced down onto an open barstool with a slap on the back from his friend. The bartender nodded to the gentleman and expectantly waited for their orders.

Green spoke up first with his voice, smooth as butter. "A beer for me, please. And what do you want, Butler?" He asked.

Austin cleared his throat and tired his best to adjust quickly to the change in surroundings. "Uh, i'll have a whiskey on the rocks." Austin spoke to the bartender politely. The sharp dressed man in a polyester suit behind the bar went to work on fixing up the men's drinks.

The loud music blaring and the chatty cathy's coming in and out of the club passing by Austin was overwhelming to his senses. He could feel his wallflower demeanor start to creep up on him. He hoped he could curb the anxiety by placing a Marlboro cigarette between his plush lips and flicking his zippo lighter he pulled from his pants pocket, inhaling the cloud of smoke deeply into his lungs before exhaling through his nose.

Green seemed to notice his friend's reservations and leaned his elbow on the counter, facing Austin with his muscular build. "Hey man, no stress. You know I wouldn't take you to a place that wasn't happenin'. Once you get some of that whiskey down your neck I'm sure your feet will lead you to the dance floor." He said, projecting his voice loud enough over the music so Austin could hear.

The shy man put the cigarette between his lips as he ran a hand through his long golden tresses. "We'll see where the night takes us I suppose." He muffled. Two long fingers grasped the cigarette as he took another drag and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth, away from his friend.

This satisfied Green who plastered a wide grin across his face, and patted Austin on the shoulder. Austin was used to getting physically manhandled by Green, it was just how he showed his affection. "Cool, man. That's what I like to hear. Keep an open mind."

Clubs were not a place that Austin frequented very much, if at all. He was the kind of man to enjoy staying home or going out to a nice restaurant. He wouldn't even consider himself a dancer. To think about going out on the dancefloor and moving his feet to the beat of the music has his palms clammy and his stomach doing nauseating flips.

The bartender slid down a freshly cracked Heineken for Green, who thanked the man behind the counter with a nod before wrapping his lips around the bottle and guzzling down the frothy liquid.

Slowly but surely the music started to dwindle down and a sleazy voice slurred over the club's speakers. "Alright ladies and gents, this one goes out to two very foxy mamas out there on the dance floor. You know who you are. Take it away." Said the DJ, a little too close to the microphone. The curly haired mustachioed man behind the booth replaced the vinyl with a fresh one on the turntable, and turned the volume all the way up to eleven.

The sweet melodic strings of Bee Gees "More Than a Woman" rolls on through the club and hit's Austin's ears. Instinctively he rolls his eyes. He's heard the song all over the radio and frankly he despises the tune for how overplayed it is. But tonight will give him a reason to turn his opinion around, he just doesn't know it yet. The party goers all rushed to the dance floor and grabbed a partner. Anyone who had any sense at all would be swaying back and forth to the music, but Austin and Green were onlookers as they observed from their barstools on the second floor of the club.

Austin kept taking drags from his cigarette, watching the way that the beautifully dressed women were spinning around their partners. While he wasn't one to think he had a chance at dancing, he did yearn for a special someone to hold close to him and put the rhythm in his body. While he looked on with a good poker face, on the inside his heart swelled for the chance to take his forever lady on the floor. Maybe one day.

Completely oblivious to the two men, the bartender placed Austin's whiskey on the counter with his own coaster. When Austin heard the glass clink down on the counter top he spun back around and gingerly sipped away at the musky amber liquid. He tapped the excess ashes of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, taking his eyes off the dancefloor to shyly study the mound of ice in his glass, letting his melancholia posses his thoughts.

Green however was not one to wither away into his drink. He kept his focus entirely on the crowd of dancers, admiring the smooth moves from some of the couples. His foot was tapping on the floor and his head was bobbing along in time to the swing beat. This was his sanctuary away from his family, and he found comfort in the multi-colored lights and sparkling discoball that shined like a beacon touching down from Heaven.

As he scoped out the crowd his eyes narrowed in on two particular women in the center of the floor, dancing together. His deep set eyes widened at the realization. "Holy shit. Unbelievable." He gawked.

"Hmm?" Austin mumbled, quirking his brow at Green.

"My wife is down there. I was wondering where this chick was at all day. Should have known I'd find her on some dancefloor." Green laughed. He took another swig of his beer, his eye never leaving the vision of his wife working wonders on the floor. Tiffany was also a party animal like Green. The two go together like bread and butter. If she wasn't out shopping or at home making the house all perfect for her husband when he gets home, she's out strutting her stuff under a discoball.

"No kidding," Austin chuckled. "She's a dancer?" He asked, bringing his cigarette back to his lips.

Green smirked knowingly. "Only the best dancer in the whole tri-state area as far as i'm concerned." Green leaned back against the bar counter and admired his wife twirling around on the lower level.

Austin blew his smoke out his nose and spun around on his barstool to face the crowded floor once more. "Which one is she?" He asked, trying to scope out the terrain.

Green gestured to the dance floor with the nose of his beer bottle. "You see the one in the middle of the floor with the red hair? Green dress? That's my Tiffany." He smiled proudly, his heart swelling at the thought that the beautiful woman out there dancing to her heart's content was his wife.

Austin squinted his eyes, finally landing on the firey redhead, who stood out among the crowd of blondes and brunettes alike. He nodded absentmindedly to himself that but of course the handsome Tenaglia son would bag a beautiful girl. He caught a glimpse of her satin green dress twirling around her as she spun hand in hand with her dance partner. Tiffany was never alone on the dance floor, her best friend would always accompany her. And tonight was as per usual.

As the men watched Tiffany dance, they could finally see the woman she was dancing with. At first all that they could make out was a mass of fluffy, perfectly bouncy blown out curls. When the woman finally spun around, her visage no longer a mystery, Austin's jaw nearly hit the floor. The mystery woman looked like she had stepped out of a fairytale. Her curves were supple and accented gorgeously with white bellbottom pants and a cropped long sleeve top that was tied at the small of her waist, accenting her cleavage. Did Cupid just come down and strike Austin's heart with an arrow? Because in all his life he swears he's never seen a more sexy creature. He leaned forward on his barstool, trying to get a better look at the woman who set his heart asunder. At any moment he was sure he'd have a heart attack. "Who's that dancing with your wife?" Austin asked perhaps a little too nervously, but he tried to play it off.

Green rose to his feet to get a better view from up above. "Oh that's Y/N. She's like a sister to Tiff. Known her for years. She's a nice girl." Green placed his hands on his hips and turned back on his boot heels to face Austin. Almost immediately he could tell that Austin was somewhere on another planet. He had faraway eyes, and all he heard Pellegrino say was her name. It played on a loop in the blonde's mind, thinking it was the most beautiful string of syllables he's ever heard. He so lost in his own thoughts that he barely noticed his cigarette was burning so fast that it was mostly all ash crumbling in his hands and threatening to make a mess of his nice slacks.

Green smirked at his friend, and raised a quizzical brow. "You want me to introduce you?" He asked, knowing the answer would most likely be yes.

Austin's mouth went dry at the thought. She looked like an angel as she smiled wide, giggling with Tiffany as the women danced around each other. The way her body swayed to the beat of the music sent blood rushing straight to Austin's manhood. He needed to know her. He had to talk to her. But like this? Austin felt like a school boy with a crush on the prettiest girl in the class. He rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his thighs and tried his best to quell the blood rushing straight for his cock. Not that it had been a long time since Austin was with a woman. But there was something about this femme fatal that captured his unique interest. She beguiled him from across the room. For all she knew, she didn't even know of his existence. Not yet anyway.

"Do you think she'd go for me? Honestly." Austin asked Green anxiously.

The charming brunette walked up to Austin and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little to jostle those nagging thoughts out of his mind. "Listen here. You're a single, well-to-do good looking man. She's my wife's best friend, an exceptional dancer, and she's also single. I know she hasn't gone steady with a guy for a long time. She's not a sleaze, she's got brains and a heart. So in my opinion I think you two would hit it off. But we don't know that for sure unless you make a move." Green said confidently. He was right. How could you really know unless you just plunge headfirst into the deep end. Tonight, Austin would be putting his faith in the universe and himself to the test.

Austin placed the barely there cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. He nodded as he let the smoke exhale from his nostrils. Austin was accepting his fate. He knew he would either let the anxiety he was feeling ruin his night and have him leaving the club, crawling under the covers never to see the light of day again. Or, he would probably embarrass himself when sweet talking his dreamgirl. Either option is far from acceptable. But, he had to make the effort and try. Otherwise some other guy would scoop her up before he has the chance. This was it. It was now or never.

"Fuck it. You're right." Austin said, self assured in his final decision.

Green took hold of the glass of whiskey Austin was nursing and forced it into the blonde's hands. "Drink up brother, I can tell you haven't done this shit in a while." He laughed.

Austin smiled nervously, a breathy chuckle fogging up the glass. "Is it that obvious?" He asked. Austin took a generous helping. The amber liquid pooled into his mouth and coated his tongue, letting the fragrant musk linger on his palette before swallowing it down in one gulp.

"Unfortunately yes, but I think we can remedy that. Just follow my lead and you'll be good as gold. Capisce?" Green slapped Austin on the back before nudging him off the barstool and up on his feet.

As the Italian man took Austin by the collar of his shirt he felt like the room was spinning. He pushed Austin down the flight of stairs that led from the second floor down below to the open dance floor. Every which way drunk patrons were fumbling around the tall blonde. The flashing colored lights disoriented him as he kept his eagled eyes strictly on his earth angel. His heart was about to leap out of his chest.

As the romantic Bee Gees song came to a fadeout, Tiffany and her friend slowed their movements and paused to catch their breaths. Out of the corner of her brown eyes, Tiffany spotted Pellegrino. The expression on her cherub face was one of surprise and pure delight.

Green's arms fell open to his sides and he beamed out a pearly white smile. "Well well, look at what we have here! My beautiful wife is dancing without me." He spoke playfully.

The cute redhead scrunched her button nose and scurried over to her husband. Tiffany's porcelain complexion balanced out with her eye-catching locks, which she paired with a matching red lipstick. Her satin dress was a divine shade of sage, complimenting her perfectly. She cutely tip toed on the balls of her heeled feet and flung her arms around Pellegrino.

"Fancy seeing you here, handsome!" Said Tiffany excitedly. She had the voice of a princess, and her sunny personality was definitely infectious. She could light up a room. No wonder why Pellegrino married her. The lovebirds hugged each other in a warm embrace for what seemed like eternity. And while Green and Tiffany were wrapped up in each other, Austin couldn't hide the obvious fact of his staring at the gorgeous creature standing beside the redhead.

A shy, nervous smile crept up on the corners of his voluptuous lips at the woman standing by Tiffany's side. Now that she was close enough to him, Austin could make out more of her features up close. She was even more beautiful than he had realized, which strikes him dumb and unable to function. The woman smiled back at Austin as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ears. To his surprise, she looked like she was captivated by him as well. He noticed that she gave him a quick once over, eyeing his tall and built frame accented gorgeously in Austin's suit- and she definitely liked what she saw.

Tiffany pulled away from Green and gave him a quick peck on the lips, wiping off the red lipstick residue from her husband's mouth. Green sheepishly smiled and turned his attention back to Austin. "Babydoll, there's someone I want you to meet. This is my friend Austin Butler. Austin, this is my better half."

Austin snapped out of his daydream and turned his attention to his friend. He nodded and graciously shook her hand. "Tiffany, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She giggled, her friendly eyes shimmering as she stood tall and proud. "Nice to meet you too Austin."

Green placed one of his hands around Austin's shoulder, and the other one gestured out to Y/N. "And this is Y/N. She keeps my Tiffany on her toes, literally." He laughed.

Austin closed the distance with one stride of his long legs, and he held out a trembling hand to the beautiful lady. "Hi. It's most certainly a pleasure to meet you, Y/N." He cooed.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, blushing at how kind and downright handsome the blonde was. She extended one of her hands, and the minute she made contact with Austin he felt a bolt of lightening rock him to the core. To hold onto just this tiny piece of her was intensely electrifying. He couldn't help but gasp faintly as he looked into her gorgeous eyes. She was sucking him right into her sphere.

Finally, he heard his angel speak. "It's wonderful to meet you too, Austin."

And as the saying goes, the rest is history. To say that Austin was smitten about you was an understatement. He always struggled in past relationships, trying to find the girl of his fantasies that he could settle down with. Because of his celebrity status he either had girls that just wanted to fuck him and run to the press about it, or girls that only saw dollar signs.

But you were different. You saw through to who Austin was at a soul level, and you loved him as if he was just any run of the mill person. To you, he is your guiding light. And you intend to keep him happy for the rest of your life. You and Austin spent every waking moment together. Soon enough you were spending holidays with his family and getting ingrained with the Tenaglia's, who had in a way adopted Austin as their unofficial son and brother. To have their approval meant the world to you, and to him as well. Finally, he had found the missing piece to his puzzle. He felt whole and complete with his woman by his side - his dance partner for all eternity.

The tabloids had a field day when it was announced that the handsome bachelor was engaged to be married. Pictures of you and him were smattered across every newspaper on the east coast. Eventually, he permanently moved from California to settle down with you in New York. This transition worked out well in favor of the Tenaglia's who liked to keep their friend close by to them.

Pellegrino was chosen as best man, and Tiffany was the maid of honor. Anyone who was anyone was invited to the "wedding of the decade", according to the New York Times.

The dance circuit was still as popping as ever, and after a little while of settling into married life and figuring out finances, you and Austin merge as business partners to create Tease - the hottest club to rival that of Studio 54. Every Saturday there would be a dance competition called Boogie Nights where all the best dancers would compete for first place bragging rights, a trophy, and a bit of a cash prize. It was good incentive for people to keep stopping by the club and spending their hard earned money at Tease.

The place actually started to be self sustainable after only a month or two. Green naturally drew more people into the club, and he used a lot of his connections in the mob to bring his friends down there and spread the word. it wasn't long before Tease was the most popular club in New York. The likes of celebrities, musicians, actors and more were spotted at your club - and it only increased your profits. Most of the money made at Tease was split between you and Austin, and the Tenaglia's also got a small cut for helping to promote the club by word of mouth and a little persuasion.

It's not exactly what you envisioned when opening a club with your husband, to have his mafia compadres be latched onto it, but you learned real quick that to appease the Tenaglia's you had to play by their rules and keep your mouth shut. So that's what you did. Plus you trusted Austin's opinion on the family. They took him in and treated him like a son. So, what harm could it do to have them be a part of Tease?

It's not like you were crawling on your hands and knees for the Tenaglia's to help out with business. Afterall, you and Austin are the hottest couple in New York. While you were once an unknown random woman to the general public who was marrying a high profile celebrity, now you were one yourself. All the women took inspiration from how you wore you hair and makeup on the dancefloor, and they definitely copied your fashion. You were becoming somewhat of a local celebrity. And with Austin by your side, you felt like you could do anything. You were on top of the world.

~~~Present day~~~

Tonight is Boogie Nights down over at Tease. The place is bumping with loud disco music. The club is filled with thick clouds of cigarette smoke, and the clinking glasses of alcohol filled the air. There was barely a seat left unoccupied, it was a packed madhouse. Everyone in the Bronx got all dolled up in their best outfits and hair sprayed high to the heavens for this event. Before the competition starts, you let the patrons have their chance to dance on the floor before the professional competitors tear it up.

You and Austin are like the perfect tag team, keeping the joint going. You're out there on the floor, schmoozing with the guests and selling them on getting a drink at the bar. Meanwhile, Austin is letting in all the high rollers and making sure the friends of the Tenaglia's and other goodfellas are well fed and well drunk. Keeping them happy means keeping everyone happy.

You spot your husband from across the room. You decide to take a break from forging friendships with the crowd and make an appearance by his side. Afterall, you know as well as Austin that when it comes to being linked to the Tenaglia family, you have to show people how powerful you are. Seeing is believing.

Your red dress flows effortlessly around your stocking clad legs, the breeze wafting through your perfectly coiffed curls. You wear your best smile as you near the table at the side of the dancefloor where Austin is working his magic at winning over the men. He looks so sexy in his black button down shirt and grey pinstripe pants that hug the curve of his ass deliciously. A couple of buttons are left undone, on purpose, and the gold cross he's wearing hangs down his chiseled chest and lands in his tufts of blonde chest hairs. He looks scrumptious. You almost can't believe this blonde beauty is yours.

Austin stands over the table, looking authoritative yet friendly as he laughs and greets each man one by one with a firm handshake. You make yourself known by reaching out to touch your husband's back with a soft caress of your hand.

"Hi baby, I see that you've welcomed our guests." You say in your bubbliest voice. "I hope you gentlemen are enjoying your evening." You announce to the entire party. Austin smiles warmly at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing you into his side, showing you off to the men.

The group of Italian men smirk at you, while some of them keep their nose down firmly in their drinks, not giving a damn about niceties and looking to get plastered. The man who you assume to be the ring leader flashes a smile at you, showing off his imperfect teeth. He's probably about 60-something, around the same generation as Don Antonio. He seems to have kind brown eyes. And he has a nice head of salt and pepper hair combed back off his ruddy complexion. A thick Brooklyn accent seeps past his thin lips. "Thank you doll. It's hard to not have a good time when you get treated with the upmost of respect 'round 'ere. Your husband keeps a tight ship I see."

Austin shyly smiles, and you pat his chest lovingly at the praise. "Yes he certainly does. I'm the luckiest woman in the entire world." You say proudly.

As you pass glances around the table, you notice some of the men perk up at you. You brush off the ones the ogle a little too long for your liking, which you thought was inappropriate for the setting and the fact that your husband was standing right next to you. Austin notices this as well. He makes a mental note of which men are looking for trouble so he can keep a close eye on them. Obviously he's aware that you're a beautiful girl, and it's only natural to get a couple of eyes on you. But you're his woman, and these bozos should know their place. Austin leans over and kisses your temple, making a show for certain men at the table. They cock their eyebrows and get the picture, going back to putting their head down and drinking their beverages. That put them off for now, and Austin feels his ego boosting.

"I should be so lucky as to be called her husband. You say I keep a tight ship, sir, but Tease wouldn't be what it is without this little lady right here. She's the reason for it all." Austin cooed, beaming a dazzling grin at you.

The older italian man bowed his head in respect with a smile still plastered on his crooked teeth. "You seem like a good kid, Austin. I speak for everyone here at this table when I say that I wish you and your wife many years of a blissful marriage. It'll be 20 years with my Maria in a couple of weeks, so I understand the bond between a husband and a wife. Not that any of these schmucks would know what it means to bring home the bacon to a doting wife. Ain't that right, boys?" The man said rhetorically, purposefully getting a rise out of the other mobsters at the table. If they wanted to keep their heads, they would nod and laugh along with the joke. Some of them do, and others roll their eyes snidely. Again, Austin took note of who clearly had respect and who didn't.

You perked up, sidestepping over the joke with grace. "Well fellas, please let either me or Austin know if you need anything tonight. More refills on your drinks, a song request. Anything, you name it." You say happily, playing the role of mafia wife to a T.

The older italian man raised his glass. "Greatly appreciated, Miss. Salut." He said. The table all raised in saying cheers before downing their drinks.

Austin bowed gracefully at the entire table, and turned on his heel with you still glued by his side. You could feel Austin's hand grip your waist just a little bit harder as you both walked away.

"You saved me back there. I definitely owe you one later." He said out the side of his mouth, attempting to pass smiles and little nods to the patrons that waved hello to the two of you.

"All in a days work, Mr. Butler." You joked.

Austin chuckled, his laugh reverberating deep within his chest and vibrating off of your body that's tightly pressed into his polyester side. "How's about I get you a drink, baby? Tell me what you want, i'll have Marcus make something special for you." Marcus is the bartender for Tease. He's young, handsome, and charismatic enough to attract everyone and keep them filled with booze. He's not a Tenaglia, but he's aware of the prestige that comes with being part of the family unit. Plus he makes a great cocktail.

Before you were about to say to Austin what you wanted to order, while you're both standing at the bar, a boisterous voice cuts through the music and random chatter of the crowd like glass. You recognize that husky sing-song anywhere. Carmine Tenaglia, also goes by C. He's the oldest son to Antonio. You can always tell when Carmine enters a room because you can hear him before you see him. His voice has taken a bit of a beating, sounding like he smokes about 4 packs a day. He wasn't blessed with conventional good looks like Pellegrino, but he's rough around the edges in a bad boy kind of way that gets the attention from women. His big brown eyes can melt butter, but behind those eyes is a fire that screams "don't fuck with me." He never lets his hair down, he always keeps is slicked back with gel and a side part. And he dresses to the nines. Clearly, he loves the life and everything that comes with it. Out of all the Tenaglia brothers, he enjoys spending money on clothes, cars, and fancy dates - even though he's married. But what his wife doesn't know won't hurt her, according to his logic.

Carmine is imposing, loud, but most of all he commands respect from everyone he meets. As the oldest son, he likes to think he takes charge over his father. And sometimes he will give out orders on behest of the family name before consulting with the other men. You know better than to try and cause problems with him. When he drinks, you never know what Carmine is capable of.

Carmine pushes through the crowd of dancers, and you can now clearly see the Italian man making his way over to you both. He has a nice smile surrounded by his typical 5 o'clock shadow he sports. And of course he's in his Saturday best with a matching black suit adorned with gaudy gold jewelry. "Hey! Look at youse! If I had a nickel for every time I'd see you two attached at the hip i'd be a millionaire." He said, laughing heartily. "Come 'ere, you son of a bitch!" He said, pulling Austin around by the shoulders. Austin laughed and embraced Carmine with a bear hug.

"Hey C, nice to see you." Austin said in the man's ear. After a few seconds of a warm familial hug, Carmine pulls away and looks over Austin, patting him on the shoulders roughly, clearly a Tenaglia family trait of brotherly rough-housing that got passed down.

"Man, you always look like a million bucks. You must go to the same tailor I do. Sanduskies on 34th Street will have you going from rags to riches in a few stitches. Hey, they should use that as their tagline." Carmine chuckled, thinking he's the funniest man since Richard Prior.

Austin blushed and patted Carmine on the back. "I learned from the best." He said, sweetly.

Carmine grabbed Austin by the face with his hands and kissed both his cheeks in typical Italian fashion.

"Oh Marone! Now ain't you a sight for sore eyes." He said, eyeing you once over. "Come give me a hug, you look terrific." Carmine gestured you over with a wave of his hand adorned with rings, his gold chain bracelet rustling along his wrist.

You smiled and hugged Carmine warmly. "Thank you Carmine. Are you here alone?" You asked when you pulled away from the hug - not seeing his latest flavor of the week on his arm.

Carmine shook his head. "Nah, you know me I ain't ever alone. The young buck with little miss fire engine is in tow." He said. The young buck is a nickname he gave to Pellegrino, and little miss fire engine is in reference to Tiffany, if it wasn't obvious enough.

And as if on command, the handsome italian man with his gorgeous redheaded wife make their way over to the three of you.

"Hey, what's going on Austin? Y/N?" Happily said Green. He flashed a warm smile, his olive eyes friendly as he greeted you both with quick hugs.

Carmine laughed. "See, it's a family affair."

"It's nice to see you too, C." Said Tiffany playfully, slapping his arm.

Austin placed one of his hands behind him on the bar countertop. "You guys should get a table before they fill up."

Green raised his brow and threw his arm around Austin's shoulder. "Come join us for a bit, man. It's good to catch up with you." Green narrowed his captivating eyes on you. "Is it okay if we steal him away from you for a little while, Bambi?" He asked. Bambi was the nickname the men gave you, and it's a double meaning. Bambi is short for bambino which means baby in Italian. And Bambi is also in reference to the film because you're as ethereal and beautiful as a doe eyed deer. The nickname coming from Pellegrino pulls at your heartstrings.

"Oh, I suppose I can find a way to live without my marito." You said in a playful longing tone. Marito is one of your many petnames for Austin, and it means husband in italian. Of course, being adopted into an Italian family you learn some choice words.

Austin winked at you and pressed his soft lips to yours in a simple but tender brush of his mouth. "I'll be right back, babygirl." He said in a sultry low tone.

You shivered at his baritone and nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you drank in the lingering taste of whiskey from the kiss he left behind.

In a flash, the three men waltzed their way to a smokey corner of the club. Tiffany stayed behind with you.

"I'll keep you company, honey. Besides, I wanna dance. Let's boogie." She said perky as ever. And how could you not oblige your best friend? You linked arms with the fair redhead, making your way to the dance floor.

As time passes on, Austin is still lounging at a round table with Carmine and Pellegrino. They nurse their drinks and smoke cigarettes, catching up on their day.

You and Tiffany have barely left the dance floor. With your experience as Club Owner, you've noticed that it helps to bring customers back to Tease when they see you so eager to dance alongside everybody else. And you're not gonna pass up an opportunity to have a good time. The music makes you sway to the funky rhythms. The skirt of your dress twirls around you as you and Tiff join hands in sliding on the dance floor.

You were so caught up in the moment of the dance with your friend that you barely noticed a familiar man making his way to you slyly from the corner of your eye. Out of your peripheral you caught him. One of the oggling Italian men from the table you had greeted earlier was bold enough to slither his way to your side. He paid no attention to Tiffany, making his beeline straight towards you. The man was alone, so you thought perhaps this situation could turn out okay given that the right steps are taken.

You tried your best to not look over at him, hoping he would get the hint and go away. Unfortunately, he wasn't gonna care if you took notice of him or not. He was gonna make himself known regardless.

A gross, creepy smirk plays at his thin lips. You can smell the stench of his cuban cigar and bourbon overwhelm your senses, making your stomach churn.

"Care to dance, bella mia?" He asked, sounding heavily intoxicated. His slurred words fumble out of him, but even in his drunken state he attempts to exert dominance over the situation. His beady eyes scan the curves of your body and you wanna crawl out of your skin at the thought of the nasty things he's probably thinking about you right now.

Tiffany eyes him cautiously and then looks over at you to gauge your reaction. You clear your throat and briefly make eye contact with him. "No thank you. The only man I dance with is my husband." You assert strongly. Hoping that was enough to get the drunk wise guy off your case.

He doesn't take to kindly to that. He cockily raises his thick black brows. "Come on, sugar. We both know that Blondie doesn't satisfy you. You need a man like me to show you what's what." He says, stifling back a hiccup.

"You've got some nerve saying that to me when you know exactly who my husband is." You say, letting go of Tiff's grip and crossing your arms over your chest. The v-neck cut of your dress shows off your round breasts, and unfortunately you regret crossing your arms now because the weirdo makes no attempt to hide the fact he's staring right down your cleavage. You not only feel dirty, but revolted.

The Italian man doesn't back down. In a loud manner he raises his voice and flails his hands around as he talks for emphasis, and he takes a step forward to get closer to you. "I know exactly who your husband is, and frankly I don't give a fuck about them pansy-ass Tenaglia's. People know me 'round these parts. I could snap my fingers and your husband would be an obituary in Sunday's papers. What I want, I get. Now, lemme ask you again. And this time, be smart with your answer. Would you care to dance with me?" He bites back, not leaving any room for interpretation of his words.

He's making such a scene that the dancers around you all are eyeing the both of you with a concerned look on their faces, and some of them stop dancing entirely to watch the scene unfold, not knowing what to do.

"Not a chance in hell, you don't scare me." You retort. While you are visibly shaking, you don't want to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing you are intimidated. He'd be a first class fool to make even more of a scene with half of the Tenaglia crew waiting in the wings. He's so drunk that you don't even take his threats seriously.

The Italian man simply stands there, hands ball up into tight fists. He dryly chuckles, and purses his lips. "Wrong answer, sweetheart."

Sensing trouble afoot and seeing that this guy isn't leaving, Tiffany chimes in and comes to your aid. "Listen here, you take one more step and I'll yank those hair plugs right off your head. My husband is also a Tenaglia and he'll beat the shit out of you." The redhead says with as much sass and fervor as she can muster. She's not one to always get into confrontations, but for you and her family she'll cuss out whoever she needs to.

The man places one of his heeled boots in front of the other, daring to go against Tiffany's warning. "You broads think you're tough shit, huh?" He exclaims, his voice raising an octave with his anger. "Seems like ain't nobody put you bitches in your place. Well, you're about to get a firm lesson with the back of my hand." He says, raising his right hand adorned with chunky gold rings.

Suddenly it's all happening so fast you can barely process what's happening. Tiffany pushes you back and attempts to step into the line of fire, bringing her arms up to deflect the man's hand in time. But you two don't have to worry about a thing. What you didn't know was that the Tenaglia's caught the tail end of the situation. It was hard not to when the man was making such a ruckus on the dancefloor. This idiot dared to show disrespect to Tiffany and to you, which cuts through even deeper because this is your club. Pellegrino and Austin watched on for a minute with furious anger as the man was making idle threats to the family and imposing himself onto their wives. Like hell they were gonna stand there and not do something about it. The men down their drinks and make their dissent, on a one-way mission to teach this guy a lesson.

Carmine, Pellegrino, and Austin march their way over to the dance floor and push through the bewildered crowd of dancers. Austin is fuming, and he looks like he's about to go into a blind rage. He walks with determination, fists wound tightly by his sides. He's seeing red.

"Back away from my wife, you motherfucker." Austin bellowed. He grabbed hold of the man's shoulder and spun him around so he was face to face with the scumbag. Austin's right fist swung hard and fast, connecting into the italian man's face, making him see stars.

Both you and Tiffany stood back, mouths agape and looking on with shock. You can't believe the situation took a turn for the worse. Pellegrino steps to the side and ushers you and Tiff away from the violence on the floor. Meanwhile, Carmine and Austin were ontop of the man as fast as lightening. There's no chance they're letting this guy get away unpunished. They were gonna use him as an example to every other wise guy in the club that if you act like vermin you're gonna get treated as such. Austin landed another devastating punch to his face, and Carmine wrapped his arms around him in a bind to stifle the man from fighting back.

"Get this fucking guy out of here." Austin huffed. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. "Bring him out back." He commanded. Carmine nodded and grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, heading towards the back exit of the club. Pellegrino was hot on the heels of Carmine, grabbing one of the arms of the beaten man and holding him in a vice grip.

People weren't sure if they should continue dancing or if they should head out early. But the DJ clicked on the intercom, making an announcement to assure people everything was fine and to resume dancing as normal. So the disco music never ceased to play loudly over the speakers, as if nothing had happened. It's a surreal combination to experience the cheery, jazzy beats swelling in your ears coupled with the the intense emotions on the dancefloor.

Before Austin followed Carmine and Pellegrino outside, he shot a quick glance in your direction, checking in on you. His baby blues were stormy with anger. He softened a little bit seeing your face and scared eyes, but he knew this was all in an effort to protect you. So he soldiered on.

The backdoor sprang open, the blinding light from the outside world is a jarring juxtaposition from the dark atmosphere inside the club. Carmine threw the italian man down onto the ground without a care, pushing him outside. He stumbled and spit blood out onto the cobblestones below him.

Pellegrino followed after Carmine, grabbing onto the shirt collar of the man on the ground and forcing him to his feet. "Get the fuck up." He was just as upset this slimy guy disrespected Tiffany, and he was gonna get in a good swing when he could - he'd patiently wait his turn. Right now, Austin was intent on fucking this guy up.

Austin was the last one out, and he slammed the door behind him with a loud thud. Carmine and Green held onto either arm of the scared italian man, pinning him to the brick wall opposite the club. He was no match for the strong Tenaglia's.

Austin, with a sneer on his face, rolled up his shirt sleeves. "You think you're some fucking tough guy. Coming into my club, drinking my liquor, and making a pass on my wife. And after I welcomed you and your buddies so kindly. You must be a real chump." He said haughtily.

The italian man slurred his speech even more, the blood dribbling out of his mouth. He shot daggers into Austin. "I guess Blondie's got balls after all." He said tauntingly, getting in one last petty blow. Carmine and Green looked at each other and then down at the man, amazed that he actually has the gall to talk back in the predicament he finds himself in. Those would be his final words. He was digging himself an early grave.

Austin rolled his head around his neck, the cracks vibrating off of the brick, and he rounded his shoulders back. Not wasting any more precious time, Austin landed punch after punch on the man's face. Blood was flying every which way. His blonde waves unkempt and fell over the slope of his forehead as he brought his fists back and smashed into the scumbag's face - it was crumpling beneath his hand like an overly ripe tomato. The man wailed as he had to stand there and take the blows. Meanwhile, Austin was grunting like wild animal, his knuckles getting swollen by the second. He was determined and couldn't think straight. All his years of studying the art of boxing has finally come in handy. And by God he was gonna fling all of his might and fury into this lowlife's face.

Carmine and Pellegrino kept holding firm onto the man, wincing slightly as to not get too close to Austin's blows. After what seemed like eternity, Austin landed one last punch square in the mouth and backed away heaving ragged breaths, gulping down fresh air into his lungs. He pointed his index finger right into the man's bruised and bloodied face. "I swear to God, if you even so much as look at my wife again i'll rip your eyes out of their sockets." He spit out aggressively.

Carmine laughed and looked over the victim. "Nice work, Butler. I think the asshole learned his lesson. Never fuck with the Tenaglia's." He smiled devilishly.

Austin put his hands over his hips and nodded at the men. Carmine and Green took the blonde's non verbal queue and released their grip on the bloody pulp of a man, who immediately fell into a heap on the cold alley floor with a groan. Carmine spit down towards the man on the ground, and walked over to Austin cool as a cucumber.

Pellegrino however was not about to walk away without landing one blow for his own pride. He crouched down and landed a punch so hard he knocked a few teeth from the beaten up Italian man's mouth. "That was for my wife, you rat." He said with sour resentment.

Carmine walked over to Green and placed his hands over his shoulders. "Come on fratellino, don't get your nice suit all dirty with this fucko's blood. The stains are a bitch to get out." He says, trying to cut through the seriousness with a morbid joke. Green huffed and nodded, walking back into the club and disappearing from the scene of the crime - he fears if he stays for a second longer he'll lose his composure even more. He had done his part, nothing more was needed. Carmine brushed the dirt off his shoulders and he too stepped back into the club. And now there were two.

Austin stared down at the pathetic man below him, feeling empowered. It felt damn good to deliver swift justice on behalf of his wife. And he hoped this beating taught the man a powerful lesson. Respect means just as much to any Italian clan as loyalty. Without respect, you might as well be considered dead. He knew as soon as he gawked openly at his wife at the table that Austin was gonna have his hands full. He never thought however that it would take a turn like this, and so swiftly. But he would do it again all the same knowing that he protected you.

With one final passing glance at the man on the floor, Austin turned around and opened the exit door, walking back into the club.

Everyone seemingly enough forgot about the altercation that just took place. The music kept blaring and the drinks kept pouring. But you were still on the sidelines of the dancefloor. And one by one you saw the Tenaglia brothers walk back inside. Carmine tapped Green on the shoulder, whispering something into his ear, and Green nodded. Carmine walked off towards the front door of the club while Green headed back over to the men's table.

You were looking for Austin when finally you saw him rush back into the club, looking disheveled. You can feel his anger from a mile away. He made a beeline for the men's bathroom, with both hands he pushed the door open forcefully, disappearing inside.

While against your better judgement to follow your husband into the men's bathroom, you wanted to make sure he was okay. No one had exited the bathroom, so you assume that he's alone in there. Thinking that it was safe to make a move, you start to make your way over to the bathroom, and timidly open the door.

"Austin?" Your angelic voice calls out to him sweetly as you peek open the door, not wanting to barge right in. You can't see a lot from your vantage point except for the running water in one of the porcelain sinks as Austin stands over it.

"Come in and close the door, honey." Austin said as his voice waivers, still riled up from the events that just transpired.

You immediately shuffle in and close the door behind you, turning the lock so that no one would try to interrupt and see the mess. You're in shock when you see Austin standing over the bathroom sink, the water turning a shade of pink as he washed the copious amount of blood off of hands. You've never seen Austin like this before. He was amazing at using his words to win in a fight if need be, but he never resorted to physical violence. This was a new hat that Austin was wearing at at first you aren't sure what to make of it.

Austin sensed your nervousness as you just stood by the door fiddling with your hands, not venturing inside. He turned his head over to you, capturing your eyes in a searing look. The disgust was still prevalent as it rolled off him in droves, but he started to melt seeing his beautiful wife look so innocent, unaware that he just beat a man within an inch of his life just a minute ago. And it was all because of her.

The corners of his lips curled up slightly in a soft smile. "Don't worry baby, this isn't my blood." He said, trying to pacify the situation and put you at ease. As if knowing it was someone else's blood makes it any better.

"Are you okay?" You ask shyly.

Austin nodded. "I'm maybe a little shaken up, but i'm fine. it's you that i'm concerned about." He says, getting back to washing his hands in the sink with some soap.

Your high heels click against the white linoleum tiles as you make your way over to Austin's side. You place one of your hands lovingly on his shoulder. He feels tense under your hand at first, but once he feels the warmth of you he starts to relax.

You look into the sink and see Austin's hands up close. His knuckles are red and swollen, they must really hurt. You can only imagine what the other guy looks like right now if Austin came back with these battle scars. You shiver uncomfortably at the thought. You'd rather not know.

You move to stand behind Austin, and your arms wrap around his waist, bringing his body into your soft curves. He brings his head back up to look at you through the bathroom mirror. Even in your high heels you were still considerably shorter than he was.

He sighed deeply, turning the faucet off and letting one of his battered hands rest on the ledge of the countertop, while the other one placed tenderly over your hands around his front.

"I've never seen you like that before. It's like you had a fire behind your eyes that couldn't be extinguished. When I saw you walking out back I thought you were gonna kill him." You said, muffled into his shoulder blade.

He looked at you through the mirror with weary eyes. "I almost did, but not on purpose. The bastard had it coming. No one ever dares to lay a hand on you. If they're stupid enough they can try but I'm always gonna be there to protect you. You're my wife, my most cherished earthly possession." He paused briefly to turn around in your arms and he brought his hands up to show you the damage. The water trickled down his long fingers mixing with the residual blood on his knuckles. Your brow furrowed with worry seeing just how scarred his beautiful hands were. "And this is what happens when someone tries to tarnish my treasure." He said matter of factly.

You sighed, your hands carefully cradling his and inspecting them further. You bring the back of his right hand to your lips and press a featherlight kiss to his skin, staring up at his ocean eyes.

Austin winced a little bit, but the brief glimpse of faint pain turned into pleasure as he let out a throaty whimper. You continued to place gentle, easy kisses along his rugged hands, peppering them with love as you dote on him tenderly. Your face nuzzled into the palm of his right hand, your lips brushing up against the sore pad of his thumb as you bring the digit into your wet mouth, sucking slowly.

"Babygirl." Austin sighed longingly.

You wanted nothing more than to take care of your man. He's never had the proper moment to defend your honor before tonight, and in such a violent way no less. While it scared you at first seeing Austin punch the lights out of a wise guy who definitely deserved it, and was foaming at the mouth with rage ready to rip his head off his shoulders, your body is on fire - not with anger, but with a swell of burning passion. He came to your aid and protected you. While that might frighten off any young girl who would probably pack her bags the minute their husband beat the shit out of somebody and comes back with bloody hands, you were different. This is the life you inadvertently signed up for. Plus, you're no ordinary woman. You have to admit the truth - it turned you on like no other.

And seemingly Austin felt the same way, as you could feel his growing erection pressing into your stomach the longer you smother his inflamed hands with spellbinding kisses, bringing him back down to Earth. You never thought aggression like that would make you wetter than a waterfall, but there's always a first time for everything.

You hummed around his thumb, your long lashes fluttered as you continued to stare up at your man, who was slowly coming undone Infront of you. You release his thumb from your mouth with a pop and your hands roamed over his chest. You let your fingers trace over the gold cross necklace that dangled in the tufts of blonde chest hairs. Something about this very symbol of devotion to God being worn around his neck while he was beating that horrid man out back to smithereens in your honor made the coil in your stomach wind tight and your pussy throb with desire. You needed Austin, and now.

You lock eyes with Austin's blues, heavy lidded with lust, and bite your lip. "We don't have much time before we have to head back out there and play the role of Club Owners. But you're not leaving this room until you've shot every ounce of your cum down my throat. As your wife, that's what I want."

Austin moaned at your bold, heated statement. He licked his lips and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "As your husband, who am I to deny you?" He says huskily.

He crashed his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth. Your tongues probing each others mouths, lapping back and forth for mutual dominance. His tired hands roam the expanse of your body, greedily palming the flesh of your ass, bringing you closer to his hard body. Your hands trailed down to the waistband of his slacks and hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped them. To your surprise Austin went commando under his pants, but this allowed you for easy and quick access to the part of him you yearned for.

You let one of your small hands palm his cock, letting your fingers dance along his velvet length. He shakes in your hand, softly moaning against your parted mouth at the contact of your warm hand over his aching desire. You don't want to waste any more time, you need him right now. Going down easy, you kneel down in front of him, perched prettily on your high heels. Your hands reach up to his open pants, pulling them down Austin's long legs and letting the fabric pool at his ankles. The cool breeze hits his lower half for the first time, and his hard cock throbs in your face at the sweet release. The poor thing is already red and leaking with pre-cum. It won't take him long at all to deliver on his promise of filling your throat with his load. But you want to savor the feel of him for as long as you can. Sweetly, you place kisses all along the underside of his shaft and make your way back towards the tip. Austin blushes at you lavishing his manhood - you take such good care of him, he's in awe of the wonder of you - his darling wife. Your tongue slips past your lips and you lick the red and puffy head.

Austin tilts his head back and moans "Jesus fuck, I need your mouth on my cock so bad, baby."

His plea makes you wet, and you're gonna make sure he fully enjoys the messiest blowjob you're prepared to bestow upon him. You let a generous amount of spit gather in your mouth and you allow the drool to pour out over his cock, coating him nice and good. You wrap both hands around his engorged cock, giving him a few pumps and earning you throaty, hoarse, whiny moans from Austin above you.

Finally, your mouth parts and you take him into your mouth. You play with just the tip for now, sucking the sensitive head in your mouth and stroking his shaft. You moan around him like a good girl, making him shiver.

"Oh yeah. My girl knows how to suck me good." He moans delightfully. All the little whimpers and throaty groans he makes is like music to your ears, and you've barely gotten started. He's just as down bad for you as you are for him. Your panties collect all of the spilled nectar from your pussy, and you wish he could sample how good you taste. But there's plenty of time for that later. Right now, Austin's pleasure is all you care about.

Slowly, you start to sink your mouth down around his cock, taking him further into your mouth. You place both of your hands on the backs of his thick thighs, stroking him lovingly as you set to getting to work. You create a strong vacuum seal with your mouth, wrapping tightly around his throbbing cock and begin to bob your head up and down along his length. It's beyond messy, and drool is falling out the corners of your mouth, making his cock slippery as he slides deliciously along your wet tongue. Droplets of your saliva fall to the floor Infront of you. He grows heavy and harder by the second, making you work your little mouth off to satisfy every single glorious inch of your husband's heavenly made cock.

He knits his brows together, his eyes heavy and glazed over in pure ecstasy at the sight of his wife on her knees sucking him off while there's a packed room full of patrons right outside the door. He hoped the music was loud enough to disguise his obvious moans.

"Fuck. Just like that, baby. Your mouth is incredible." Austin groans desperately.

You gurgle around his cock as you pick up the pace just a little, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You relax your jaw to accommodate his impressive size. Somehow he's even bigger today. Perhaps all the adrenaline from a few moments ago is rushing straight to his cock. He's a needy and whimpering mess up above you. His hands card through your soft silky hair, holding on for dear life as he brings you further along his cock. He's lost in the feeling of your warm, sloppy mouth milking his shaft - somehow, even though you've been married for some time, you make every sexual experience with Austin feel like the first time all over again. He doesn't know what the hell he did to deserve you. Never has a woman gotten down on her knees for him and sucked the soul straight through his cock, determined to make him see stars. At this point he doesn't give a fuck who he has to beat up if it's all in the name of protecting you, and getting his dick wet in you after.

You moan around him, never letting up on the rumbling vibration from your mouth penetrate straight through his cock and through to his aching balls, which are desperate to unleash their load.

His body starts to shake, you know he's close. His plush lips form an O shape as he lets out a raspy, deep moan. "I-I'm gonna cum."

In one last final move to put him over the edge, you bring one of your hands back to his base, and your mouth sloppily sucks off his engorged tip once more. You know this is his finishing move. His head is so sensitive and you know he can come in record time with this combo of jerking him off and blowing his puffy tip. You make obscene sloshing noises around his cock, the sound of his wet skin in your hand echoes off of the bathroom tiles. If anybody were to walk past the bathroom right now they'd think a porno was being filmed in here. Your hand milks his shaft while your mouth works his throbbing tip.

Austin lets his head fall back. "Oh god yes, i'm cuming." He groans in a needy high pitch for his baritone. "Take my load down your throat. Take all of me." He moans thickly and dark.

And you do, happily. His hips stutter as he heaves ragged breaths, his salty cum gushing into your mouth. You sputter around his cock as you swallow every last drop of your husband's cum. You moan once more around him before pulling back, ensuring you devoured every morsel his precious seed. His cock springs free from your mouth and nearly slaps you in the face as the wave of his orgasm courses through his body. You lick your lips of the remnants of his cum on your mouth.

Austin's hands reach down to grasp your forearms, helping you up onto your feet. You wobble a little, and you'd be lying if you said your feet weren't killing you from crouching on the balls of your heeled feet for the duration of your sloppy blowjob. But it was worth it to see the warm, sultry look over Austin's face. He was love drunk on you.

He tucked himself back into his pants and fumbled to button and zip up his trousers, but he managed to do it. He smiles and brings you in to his lips for a passionate kiss, not caring if he can taste himself on your tongue.

You're about to step to the side of him, making your move to unlock the bathroom door as your mission to seduce your husband was a success, but he stops you. He takes you in his arms and pins you up against the edge of the sink. You gasp when he bends down and his hands grip the backs of your thighs. With a grunt, he places you up onto the counter, and settles in-between your parted legs.

"Let's see how fast I can make you cum." Austin says seductively with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. This was certainly not what you were expecting, but you're not complaining.

You don't even have time to respond before Austin spits on two of his long fingers, and with the other one he shifts your soaked panties to the side. He's not surprised when his fingers make contact with your dripping folds that you were soaking wet. You whimper at his fingers dipping in deep into your sweet cunt. Your juices coat his swollen, rough fingers, your pussy lips drawing him in as far as he can go. And without a moment to lose, his fingers disappear into your heat.

"Austin!" You moan loudly as you feel his fingers enter you and brush against your g-spot. Oh, he's in deep. He's so deep in fact that you feel full of him instantly. Austin is buried knuckles deep in your sopping cunt. Your hands grip onto his broad shoulders for support.

"Mm. Always so wet and tight for me at a moments notice. My perfect wife." He moans sexily.

He doesn't take his time, he meant what he said by how quickly he can make you cum. He's set for the task at hand. And he's willing to bet it will only take you a minute with his skilled fingers, perfectly in sync with your body, knowing exactly what you need to set you over the edge.

Keeping his fingers the deepest they can possibly go inside you, he begins to finger fuck you hard and fast. Your slick sputters around his fingers and gush out around him. It sounds so fucking wet.

"Oh god, yes!" You squeal. He knows exactly how and where to press all your buttons to make you squirm in the best way possible. And right now he's blasting your cunt so good you can't even think straight.

You let your head fall back and the breathy whines escape your mouth. Austin groans at the sound of your juicy pussy sloshing your slick around his fingers. The obscene thought that these same fingers were soaked in that man's blood crossed your mind. But the violence Austin's hands endured only moments ago is replaced with primal pleasure, and his girl's heavenly nectar washing away the blood stains.

Austin clenches his jaw and grits his teeth. His hand is worse for wear and it's not helping matters that he's pounding into your soft heat with his beaten up hand, but there was no way he was letting his girl walk out of here without being treated to a good fuck.

"Fuck! You're so good." You moan. Austin is unrelenting on his brutal pace. He's not letting his fingers slip too far out of you either. He's keeping them cemented deep down inside your pussy, his fingers brushing up against your g-spot and bruising your cervix with every thrust. The open palm of his hand barely grazes your clit, and your walls clamp down hard around his fingers, causing him to bite his lip and moan. He brings his other hand around your front and brushes your clit in determined circles. "Oh my god, Aus!" You whine. You feel his biceps flex hard underneath your hands as he expertly churns the coil down at the vast depths of your dripping wet pussy. It's getting him hard all over again.

Austin's lip twitches into a coy side smirk. His dimples making an appearance. "You like this, baby? You like knowing these fingers stuffed full in your pussy were defending your honor? Hear how wet you are for me, darlin. All your heavenly juices are mine. I wanna fuckin' drown in it. Make a mess of me." Austin moaned, never daring to look away from your eyes that were welling up with tears of pure bliss.

Your body trembled as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax. You allowed yourself to moan to the high heavens, not caring how loud you were being. In fact, you wanted everyone to know that Austin Butler was bringing you to your wettest orgasm you've ever had.

"This pussy is yours baby. Take all of it! Oh F-Fuck, im gonna cum!" You squeal, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

Austin groaned. "That's it, my love. Give it to me." He said, huskily.

With a few final, brutal thrusts of his fingers, your pussy spasmed hard around him, groaning loudly and shouting Austin's name. Sweat drips down Austin's forehead, his blonde waves tousled out of place looking unkempt yet effortlessly sexy. Your body collapses in a heap on the bathroom counter, and Austin braces you with one hand. He keeps himself inside you for a little longer as you ride your orgasm to completion. When he thinks you've crash-landed, he pulls his fingers soaked through to the bone with your cum out of your swollen pussy. Austin bit his lip and admired how his bruised knuckled glistened with your arousal. He brought them into his mouth and sucked them clean, moaning in delight at the delicious flavor of you.

"Holy shit, Austin." You breathed heavily, laughing a little.

"I think that was record time." He said, giggling cutely.

You smiled and pulled him by the shirt collar into a soft kiss. Pulling away, you inspect his hand. "That probably didn't feel good to your hand. I'm sorry, honey." You said.

Austin blew off your apology. "Nothing to even be sorry about," He placed his hands around the small of your waist and hoisted you up, helping you back down onto the ground. "Besides, I think your pussy was the miracle elixir I needed to get my hand on the mend." He said, flashing you an adorably crooked wink at you.

You laughed, playfully slapping his chest. Austin jumped back a little and chuckled heartily.

"Just so we don't look like we spent the last 20 minutes in here fucking like rabbits, I think you should go out first and then I'll follow you shortly." You said smiling, still regaining your composure. You know you're gonna be walking funny for a few hours. Your pussy took a rigorous beating, but it's a sore feeling you wholeheartedly accept.

Austin stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He looks like a freshly watered pot of daisies. His angry temperament had faded away long ago. You were his cure. He nodded. "Okay, suit yourself baby. Don't wait too long though. This is the men's room after all." He laughed.

"I won't, I promise." You reassured him sweetly.

Austin winked again and puckered his lips, kissing the air in your direction before turning around. He unlocked the bathroom door and glanced back at you one last time with his beautiful eyes that were sparkling, and a cute smile on his face before he walked away. The disco lights and the blaring music from the outside world briefly showed itself. Reminding you of where you were.

You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your shaking hands smoothed over the front of your dress. You cleaned yourself up as best you good. And you attempted to fix your hair that had fallen out of place. Luckily you made sure to put a little travel size bottle of hairspray in the mens and womens bathrooms for your guests to touch up their hair after dancing, so you took the aquanet and sprayed a generous amount on your coiffure. After fluffing your hair once more, you decided enough time had passed and you were safe to exit the bathroom without no one the wiser.

Your feet were on fire, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of these heels. But you still had a few more hours of work before you and Austin could head home. You gingerly pushed the door open, and suddenly you were back into the dark world of Tease. You walked further into the club, and seemingly nobody noticed you. So your plan worked.

Your eyes scanned over every corner until you found Austin again, who was back at the bar talking with Green and Tiffany. Carmine still wasn't anywhere to be found, at least from where you were standing. You assumed maybe he left early. And while that was a little odd for a man that thrives on being out and not at home with his wife, you shrugged off the thought.

But your stomach dropped when you noticed the gang of Italian wise guys that you had greeted at the table earlier in the evening. They looked like to be in a hurry to scamper out of here. You didn't spot any sign of the sleezeball who had attempted to pimp slap you on the dancefloor though. Maybe he had gotten the obvious hint and left. The way the men were tightly grouped together and walking like they mean business made the little nagging voice in the back of your head spring to life. Something was wrong.

The men had opened the exit door where Green, Carmine, and Austin had once been earlier. Why were they sneaking out the back when they could just walk out the front door? Going against your better instincts, you decide to follow them from a considerable distance away. This was probably the worst idea, but you had a bad feeling about this, and you were gonna find out what it was to quell your nerves.

You hung back as the exit door swung open and you caught a glimpse of the men bending down to the cold alley floor and picking up mister hair plugs, who seemingly was still laying on the ground and never left his spot the entire time you and Austin had your quickie.

In the light you finally saw the damage Austin had done to the man. You gasped when you saw the black eyes, missing teeth, and blood still pouring from his mouth. You made sure to hide in the shadows so the men didn't see you from the inside. He barely resembled the man you had seen on the dancefloor.

"Jesus Christ, they somehow made you even uglier." Said one of the younger suits.

"Shut your big mouth, Tommy. Just pick him up." Barked the older Italian man you knew to definitely be the ring leader of the pack. You recognized him from earlier - he said all those nice things to you and Austin about Tease and your marriage. You hoped he was still one of the good ones out of the bunch. You couldn't account for the others.

The man on the ground moaned in pain like an injured dog. Tommy and the young fella who you vaguely recognized from the table, plus the older gentleman was flanking the beaten man. And slowly but surely, the scumbag rose to his feet. He could barely hold himself up, he was leaning on his men for help. He spit out a generous helping of blood onto the cobblestones, a trail of the viscous red fluid started to stain his suit and corn starch stiff button down shirt.

"Well, what the fuck do we do know?" Said young wise guy number 2, who's name you still hadn't figured out yet.

"We gotta get him back home, that's what the fuck we do." Retorted Tommy.

"Ey. Just zip your fuckin' pie holes all youse, and keep Michael on his feet." Says the older man. You learned another new piece of information. The man who made the bold move against you and Tiffany was named Michael. You jotted that down for safe keeping. You wish you could remember what Italian family they belong to. All you knew was the older man who was the head honcho, who's name alludes you. You have Michael the fuckwit, and Tommy the bigmouth. You also had the other young suit who looked to be Austin's age and was struggling to keep it together.

The man who you gathered now was Tommy peered out into the street, making sure the coast was clear before he waved the other men in the alley with his hand to signal it was good to move.

Before the group of men made their final dissent into the street, you heard Michael utter something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention, and send a bone chilling shiver down your spine.

"Blondie and his fucking whore wife are gonna regret this day." He said with as much bitter resentment as possible. He spit out more blood before letting his head roll in front of him. It looked like he passed out as his eyes were closed, and the no-name, scared shitless gangster was slapping his face, trying to keep him conscious.

"We'll deal with them Tenaglia motherfuckers later. Move your asses. We're good to go here." Loudly whispered Tommy. And as quickly as they came, they vanished into the hazy Brooklyn streets.

You closed the door and stood there in a stupor, trying to process what you just heard. These guys seemed like they're not to be trifled with. But you can't know for sure. You've meet half a dozen Italian mafiosos who were all bark and no bite. While you knew Michael was in no condition to do anything to enact on a revenge scheme, you weren't sure about the other men. The scaredy-cat goodfella might not be a threat, but that Tommy guy definitely had a vendetta to enact. They all seem like loose canons, and you couldn't really pin any of them down. And that terrified you. What did he mean by "dealing" with the Teneglia's later? You weren't sure. And you weren't waiting long to find out.

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billthedrake · 2 years ago

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THE BULL (PART SEVEN)

Kevin really enjoyed the weekend get togethers with Mike. The trooper even came over a second time, in the middle of the week, when he'd traded his shift with another trooper. The sex was scorching hot, as Mike explored giving Kevin extended rim jobs, or Kevin worked on edging Mike orally. They'd have marathon sessions that allowed Paul to cum two or three times. Or they'd have a quickie fuck that was every bit as hot, and Mike would instruct Paul to felch out the freshly deposited load from Kevin's hole.

Paul felt like he was on cloud nine. He'd had fantasies about this, but this threeway situation with Mike the Bull was surpassing his dreams. The more he got into this cucking.... the more all three men explored the dynamic, the more his fantasies went wild. He'd thought watching his husband get fucked by another dude would take the edge off his desires, but it just seemed to feed them instead.

But he noticed that he and Kevin were having sex less on their own, during the week.

Kevin had noticed, too. "Babe," Kevin started one night as they sat watching TV, "What do you think of taking a break from Mike for a while?"

Paul looked over, both relieved and concerned. "OK. Anything wrong?"

Kevin nodded thoughtfully. "I love the scene, and I know it turns you on like crazy.... It's just... I don't want us to lose sight of us, you know?"

"Yeah, Kev, I do." Paul scooted closer to his husband and put his arm around his shoulder. They met in a soft kiss. Then another. Soon they were making out hot and heavy on the couch, feeding off each other's libido. Shirts came off, then pants.

"I want you to fuck me, Kevin," Paul gasped. It had been a long time since he'd bottomed for his man, and he was in the mood to turn the tables.

Kevin nodded. Topping didn't excite him as much as bottoming but he loved when Paul got in a horny mood like this and was happy to oblige. They made their way to the bedroom and got onto the bed, where they writhed against one another naked and excited, until Kevin slicked up his dick and Paul straddled his waist. Without ceremony, Kevin pushed up into his husband's eager hole.

"Oh fuck," Paul growled, "That's it, Kev. Fuck me, man."

Kevin grinned and pushed up all the way in. And again. Paul rode him like that for a while, then they rolled over so Kevin could get on top. The fuck got faster and harder till Paul's nuts seized and cum shot out all over his hairy chest, just before Kevin unloaded inside him.

The two kissed, still feeding off the excitement of the sex.

"Love you babe," Kevin said.

"Love you too, Kevin. So much."

***

Kevin was the one to break the news to Mike. No, they weren't calling things off, but they just needed a little time as a couple. Mike said he understood, and he did. The worst thing that could happen in a cucking set up was for the couple to have any doubts. He wanted Kevin and Paul solid, at least in their relationship. If he had to step away for a bit, so be it. There was a chance he wouldn't hear from these guys again, he thought, but he hoped things would pick up again.

Surprisingly, the state trooper relished his newfound free time on the weekends. He put forth the extra energy in working out, including running, which wasn't his favorite exercise. He reconnected with a couple of buddies he'd had to blow off for plans before.

The main downside was his horny state. Without a reason to hold off on release during the week, he found himself jacking off twice a day, at least. Imagining Kevin Connors' ass or Paul Stanson's salt-and pepper hair as he out a thick cop load from his husband's hole. He played in his head the kind of degrading things Greg and Joe got off on. Paul and Kevin weren't into that, and maybe that was a healthy thing. He wanted these guys to stay together unlike the other two, and maybe their protectiveness, even in the cucking, was what made it work.

It was the third weekend without fucking Kevin and Mike was tempted to find a hookup online. But he'd remembered his promise to Kevin to stay clean and be open about fucking other men. He didn't want to mess up the dynamic he had going on with his fuckee.

It was a message from Kevin that kept him going. Friday as he was getting off shift. "Hope you're doing well, Bull," was all it read.

Mike smiled. He wasn't sure if Kevin was fishing for a meetup, telling him things were back on. But he didn't want to push it, either. He thought of a suitable reply. "All right, Daddy. Doing as well as a horny Bull can be." A hint that things could be going better, if he was back fucking Kevin.

He got a smiley face reply. Then "I'll be in touch, man. Take care."

He thought maybe the tease would frustrate him all weekend. Instead it lifted his spirits.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon and Paul was fucking Kevin missionary on their bed. Not hard, not slow. The two men were taking their time but enjoying the sex.

"You like that, Kev?" Paul growled as he thrust in and elicited a groan from his incredibly handsome husband. "Like your man's dick railing you?"

Kevin nodded. "I do babe. Love you dick. Only... it doesn't go as deep as Mike's does."

A lump formed in Paul's throat. He hadn't expected that. The last month had been about him and Kev reconnecting. No cucking, no sex talk along those lines even. The surprise reintroduction turned Paul on like crazy. "Yeah, Kev, you miss his cock?"

Kevin sighed, excited, from the fuck and from the knowledge that Paul wanted this too. It had been on his mind the last couple of weeks. He'd tried to put it out of his head, but the fantasies kept coming back. He'd even started reading the stories that Paul had sent him, and sought out more.

"I do. Big cop cock. Knows how to satisfy me."

"Oh god," Paul groaned, thrusting hard into Kevin now.

"Keep fucking harder, Babe. You know you can't hit the spot he does, no matter how hard you fuck me."

"Jesus, Kevin," Paul cried in a tone that said he was frustrated, only that this was turning him on.

Kevin kept at it. "You know he's more of a man than you, don't ya?"

Paul nodded. He was THIS close to coming yet somehow orgasm was just out of reach.

"I'm gonna invite him over to fuck me good. Show you how a real stud fucks."

"Please," Paul gasped.

Kevin was taking a chance, but he went further. "He's gonna show you how worthless you are, you and your small dick."

Paul's body seized up and he came hard into Kevin, his face red and muscles tense. His dick was sore he came so hard.

Kevin stroked off to his own finish, just seconds behind.

He thought there'd be lingering guilt as they uncoupled but instead Paul looked on gratefully, a smile washing over his face. "Oh God thank you for that Kevin. That was amazing."

Kevin smirked, feeling strangely powerful over his own husband.

After they'd cleaned up, Kevin found his phone and texted Mike.

***

Mike had other plans that weekend but the following Sunday afternoon he showed up with his duffel bag and dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, with a baseball cap. He'd not jerked off in six days and his prick was crowbar hard in his crotch.

Paul answered the door. "Hi man. Long time, no see," he greeted, pulling the muscular trooper into a quick hug then ushering him inside.

"I know man," Mike said, sauntering in. He was so horny and being back at the Stanson-Connors residence had him keyed up in anticipating sex. "Hope you guys have been good."

"Oh, yeah, we have. Glad to have you back, though."

"Fuck, I'm glad to be back."

Paul smiled. He knew how much he was into this threeway scenario, and how much Kevin had been getting into it. But seeing this bull himself excited was a nice part of it. It was a strange kind of vulnerability on Mike's part.

Kevin's eyes widened as he saw Mike enter the living room. It had been so long, over a month, and the young cop looked hotter than ever. Like he'd put on some more muscle or at least toned up his existing bulk. He looked both big and trim. Even the way he sauntered into the room was hot to watch.

"Hey Daddy," Mike winked and greeted the 48 year old DILF, who was freshly showered and dressed casually in T-shirts and shorts.

"Hi Bull," Kevin smirked, feeling his heart pound. He looked over at Paul, a little embarrassed by how visibly excited he was to have Mike McCullough back in their home. Fucking him, doing whatever he had planned for Kevin that weekend. They'd invited Mike to stay over two nights, if he wanted.

Only Paul looked on with a smile, looking between his husband and the bull. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I see."

"And the dick harder," Mike said, his gaze not wavering from looking Kevin Connors in the eye. He spoke more softly, as if he were addressing Kevin alone, though Paul could hear just as well. "How you been Daddy? Your husband been taking care of ya?"

Kevin nodded, excitement forming a lump in his throat. "Yeah, Bull. Not as good as you, though."

Mike lips curled into a sneer of a smile. "He doesn't have what I got, Daddy. You know that."

Paul looked on, feeling trapped and excited at the same time. He and Kevin had played with some humiliation talk the last week, but he knew his husband was hesitant to go there with Mike. But he and Kev had talked about going there for real this weekend. He wondered how far they'd venture this time.

"I knew the first time you pushed that cock of yours in me, Bull. I knew I had a superior man in charge."

Paul gulped. Each sting of the words turned him on. But he held off touching his crotch.

Mike was pleasantly surprised at the turn of events. That Kevin had embraced the humiliation talk and was running with it, full on. The trooper unzipped, slowly, making a show of it. He reached in and pulled out his erection. Long, fat, throbbing. It was fully engorged and dripping sap from the head. Mission accomplished, he looked back up at Kevin. "This what you missed, Daddy?"

"Yes sir," Kevin nodded his head. He wasn't sure whether to go further. But he did. "Only it's more than your cock. It's you. All of you." The older man was turned on like crazy as he stood there, erect in his shorts but standing in a deferential pose. "You're younger, got more muscle, got more confidence. You know how to fuck better than Paul, too." He blushed as he said the last part particularly.

Paul moaned. He tried to stay silent and let this scene play out but he couldn't help himself. He felt dizzy from horniness.

Mike grinned and cocked his head toward Paul, still looking at Kevin. "The cuck likes it."

"My husband likes being reminded how worthless he is." Kevin smiled now, happy to be taken into this deeper level of cuckoldry with Mike. "I can't believe I waited over a month for this," he breathed.

"You missed me, Daddy?"

"Fuck yeah." Kevin finally stepped up, slowly, till he was close to Mike. Then reached out, touching not that large phallus but the man's strong chest. "Big strapping young cop... you know how to take care of another man's needs, too."

Mike smirked. "What do you need, Daddy?"

"I need a real man, Bull."

Their mouths met for their first kiss of the day. Heavy, tongue-forward.

"Mmm... Daddy's hungry," Mike growled. His hands possessively gripped Kevin's DILF ass, needing it.

"So hungry, Bull," Kevin said in a deep low voice. "I need you to fuck me good."

Paul swallowed, feeling the lump of excitement forming in his throat. He wasn't sure if it was the month absence but the intensity of the two men in front of him seemed deeper than befre.

"I'll fuck you right here on the living room floor, Daddy. Fuck you while your worthless husband looks on." Mike was rapidly crossing the line in to taking on the humiliation talk, but Kevin didn't balk in the least.

"Please. You stole me out from under his nose, you get my ass wherever you want."

"Fuck," Mike growled, uncharacteristically feeling out of control in his lust. He turned to Paul. "Go get the lube, cuck," he ordered. Already he was undoing Kevin's shorts and reaching in to feel the bare buns. Damn, he'd missed this perfect daddy ass all right.

Paul wasted no time fetching the lube out of the bedroom. He wondered if he and Kevin would have to stock a tube in each room of their place, to satisfy Mike's desire to fuck Kevin. The idea excited him.

When he got back to the living room, Kevin was already nude and on all fours on the floor. Mike crouched behind and was munching his butt excitedly.

"That's it Bull, get that tongue in there. Please. So good." Kevin looked up and saw Paul standing there, lubricant in hand. Clearly horny, looking down at the couple. Kevin got a smirk on his face. "You know this is why he took your place right?"

Paul felt a rush of excitement. Each wave seemed to be worse than the other, and he felt his prick drip in his shorts.

Kevin continued. "He knows how to treat my ass. He knows how to take care of me, babe. You never could."

It was sex talk but it stung Paul. Stung and turned him the fuck on. "Jesus, Kevin."

Kevin was getting into the zone now, feeling the feedback loop between the sensations of Mike's expert rim job, the emotional dynamic between him and Paul, and the cuckold fantasies, the stories he'd been reading and sharing with Paul. It's what pushed him to go further.

"You get off being cucked, Paul. Hell, you'd be happy if I cut you off. I got a Bull to satisfy me now, so I don't need your dick any more."

Mike pulled back. He almost didn't want to pull his attention from this perfect ass in front of him, Kevin's crack all soaked in his spit so the soft hairs matted down, almost in a pattern around the man's pucker.

But this turn of dynamic between the married couple surprised him. Surprised and excited him. He leaned back looked up at Paul, who was meekly standing, erect in his shorts, nodding.

"Yes," he said to Kevin softly, then looked at Mike, almost embarrassed and shell shocked.

Mike felt a surge of confidence rush through him. He undid the buttons in his shirt, revealing his large, built chest and an abdomen tauter than a month ago. "Cuck," he spat out derisively. "Come here and lube my cock up. It's about all you're good for."

The trooper's large prick was already jutting out, heavy, firm and dripping like crazy. Mike undid his jeans and pushed them down mid thigh as he watched Paul carefully dribble the lubricant on his stalk.

Paul had a close view now as Mike pressed that massive dick down and wedged it right into Kevin's pucker.

"Aw yeah!" Kevin growled, his voice deep and sexual. "Get in there. Get that cock in me Bull."

Mike pushed further in, slow and steady, relishing the tightness but surprised how easily Kevin's hole was submitting. He knew the bottom daddy was worked up like crazy. This was going to be an intense fuck, all right.

Kevin braced his upper body with his strong arms and hiked his ass back on the final inch of the top's dick. "Missed that ass, officer?"

Mike gripped Kevin's hips and held still, breathing to keep his orgasm from coming too quickly. "Hell yeah, Daddy. I did."

Kevin was feeling good. Real good. Not on the edge of cumming like Mike but he was keyed up for a weekend of hot sex. He just hoped he could keep up with this young buck's stamina. He felt the first real thrust, hard and deep, into his guts. Mike McCullough was definitely turned on, maybe like never before.

"Fuck me, Bull. Get back into your property." A couple of more thrusts came, faster, more instent.

Paul looked on, wide-eyed, as his prick leaked into his shorts, soaking a wet hole in the fabric. He'd never seen Mike lose control, but here the 25 year old stud was fucking like a teen losing his virginity. Humping wildly, Covering over Kevin's back as he rutted faster and faster.

For a minute Paul was concerned about Kevin, whether he could take the assault from such a large dick. But his husband was braced for the fuck, stoic almost.

"This fuck's all about you, Bull," he urged. "Get that nut in me. A month's too long."

It had been too long and Mike's self-denial was erasing any control or lasting power he might have. He felt his balls give up heavy spurts, in succession, inside Kevin Connors. Inside his perfect Daddy. It was one of the best orgasms of the young trooper's life, and he rode it out, holding on to Kevin's body as he orgasmed.

"Fuck," he hissed after the final aftershocks, kissing Kevin's neck softly, then raising up and easing out of that snug hole.

He looked at Paul. "Clean me up, cuck," he instructed and Paul swooped down, licking and sucking his still firm cock. Mike looked down in satisfaction at the sight. The well-groomed businessman sucking his dick of every drop of cum while he jerked off to completion.

Assertively he pushed Paul off his dick. "Enough of that, cuck. Time for me to fuck your husband again."

Kevin was kneeling now and met Mike in a hot kiss. He was horny, not having gotten off, and hoped Mike had another round in him right now.

He needn't have worried. "Time to take care of Daddy's needs," the cop said, both lusty and affectionately.

"Please," Kevin said feeling Mike's firm body press against his.

"Stand up," Mike asked and as he got up, he removed his jeans and shirt.

Horny, Kevin reached back and felt in his crack. It was slick with Mike's cum and he wondered just how much the bull had shot in him. And how much more was left today and this weekend.

"To the bedroom, Daddy," Mike smiled. "The cuck can stay out here and listen to us fuck."

Paul nodded, unbelievably turned on, as he sat down and removed his shorts, already stroking his bone for round two....

It was an hour later when Mike the Cop and Kevin opened the master bedroom door and walked out. Both nude, neither man had showered and were covered with sex and lube and cum from their coupling. Both had big relaxed smiles on their faces.

Paul was spent, throughly spent, from jerking off. It seemed to be his new state around his husband the bull.

"Hey Babe," Kevin said casually as he walked up and kissed Paul, more than a gingerly peck, a real loving husband's kiss. "You enjoy that?"

Paul nodded. He did, a lot. Though now he wondered if Kevin was enjoying this even more.

#drakestories

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multiversxwhore · 2 years ago

Text

Shadows That Follow You Home: pt.1

⚠️warning: this story contains mentions of sexual assault, violence, humiliation, degradation, and sadist behaviour. Please do not read if any of these are triggers for you, you have been warned.

a/n: this is based off the Netflix series ‘You’, as much as I love Joe Goldberg(Penn Badgley) I’ve been having fun writing Jonathan Majors, so in this adaptation’ Jonathan is Joe(except I renamed the character here just fyi). Now that we’ve gotten that out the way… enjoy this dark ass, chaotic ass first chapter 😈⏰

Word count: 1k

(gif belongs to @earthgif )

“Please just let me go. Let me go you fucking crazy psycho!” Brian Carter, rich white college boy with the world in the palm of his hands. He stared at me wide eyed, shocked, and confused. He’s been down in my makeshift glass jail for about a week, I was being lenient though; I should have done this the first time I found out how much of a prick he was.

“I’ll give you another chance, why do you think I’ve taken you Brian? Use your brain this time, I assume you’re smart enough since you went to a fancy school and all.” I mocked him, he didn’t like that, because how dare I make light of such a prestigious institution.

“If you wanted money that’s all you had to say, okay look, I’ll give you my debit card, the PIN code. You can have it all I don’t give a fuck man, just let me go.” Brian begged, he began to sob, tears flowing from his cheeks, and his face turning a bright red. Well this is a shocker, the way he used to hound women, you’d think he would handle this in a more “manly” way. Guess I was wrong.

“What– no, this has nothing to do with money, if that’s what I wanted I would have taken it right out of your trust fund. No, what I want is to make you feel, like how you’ve made every woman you’ve encountered feel.” I walked closer to the large glass cell, my body felt hot as the images of all his victims I found in his phone passed my mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I swear.” He cried harder, his breathing hitched, his face wet with a mixture of tears, and sweat. If I were him, I’d be sweating too, I’d be nervous looking at me. I can only imagine the lifeless look in my eyes, the cold stare, my calm, and calculating demeanor.

“You’re a sleaze Brian! A pervert, pig.” I spat at him, each word making him cower into the corner even further.

“No, no, no.” He cried.

“You’re a predator. At least you thought you were, until you ran into me.” I put the clothes in the drawer on my side, and push them into the cell to his side. He hesitated to move at first, I nodded my head in approval, so he dug into the drawer to retrieve the items. He held up the dress infront of him, his eyes lids wide open, then he looked at me, and that’s when he realized what was going on.

“How does he know me?” He whispered to himself, I could see the wheels turning, but he wasn't connecting the dots fast enough. I was starting to feel impatient.

“Morgan Pentagrini, a pretty little woman, big hair, with big dreams of being a writer? I mean but all you say was more pussy you could slide up into huh?”

“I’m sorry, you’re doing all this over her! That bitch is so lame bro.” He dragged his hands down his face, he tried to slow down his panicked breaths, but that did nothing.

“Is that why you tried to raped her? You got bored too easily so you thought you could use her, and throw her out like trash?”

“That’s what she told you? She was loaded! Morgan was throwing herself all over me like some thot, and you know what else, she can act all innocent all she wants. Get a few beers in her, all of a sudden she’s got kinks.”

“Put the clothes on Brian.” I ordered him, though I’m sure my face is relaxed, my tone even, I felt rage rattling from the pits of my stomach. The longer I looked at him, the less likely I am to pace myself.

“You can’t make me do shit, fuck you.”

“Let me give you some motivation.” I pulled out a gun from my pocket, there were perfect circles cut into the glass to let air in for the books, but it was just big enough to fit the tip of the gun in.

Quickly he started to dress himself, frantically he pulled on the dress, and jacket. Suddenly his macho stance disintegrated, a look of shame, and embarrassment etched across his chiseled features. Good, that’s exactly how he should feel. “Now, when I give you the cue, I want you to dance like a stripper, and Brian, you better dance like your life depends on it…because it does.”

I pulled out his phone that I took from his jacket pocket, opened the camera, and began to record. “Ladies and Gentlemen, you are witnessing the deconstructing of Brian Carter. This man has harassed, drugged, and sexually assaulted multiple young women in the Lower Manhattan area. Out of respect for the victims, I won’t say their names, but they know who they are. To those young women, I apologize on behalf of…men, especially the wines like Brian Carter. This is one less stain in the world.” With my free hand I pointed the gun at him, he let out a yelp, but started to dance suggestively. His body trembled, tears in his eyes, he sobbed during the whole thing, but I still felt insatiable.

“I’m sorry, Morgan, Alicia, Jackie…god I’m sorry. I’ll be better I swear, I won’t do it again. Please let me go!” Brian whimpered, his face contorted into a pained expression, but this wasn’t even the worst of it. I set the phone down, pulled out a pair of gloves from my jacket pocket, and approached the glass cell. Brian is still on his knees apologizing I’m a hushed voice over, and over again. How pathetic.

“Any last words?” As I stand over him, I feel no remorse, no guilt, or no shame. I had to do this, because if not me, then who?

“You sick son of a bitch! They’ll come looking for me!” He shouted, it was a poor attempt at a plea deal, I guess he ran out of things to say now that the truth is out.

“Let them, they’ll be chasing after a ghost.” I dropped down on top of him, Brian is a fairly decent sized man, but his strength as a swimmer, versus my football build, is nothing when you compare the two. My hands slowly wrapped around his neck, now…I could easily end this in seven minutes, but I wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible. I could feel the blood excitedly pumping through my veins to my heart leaving my brain unattended, but the lack of oxygen gave me a sense of euphoria like no other. I inhaled deeply; the smell of old dusty books, mixed with the stench of musk only a man in the brink of death could give off filled my nostrils. He began to squirm in my grasp, his hands clasped around my wrist as he tried to pry my hands off him. As I continue to add more pressure onto his trachea, I stare Brian deeply in his panicked eyes, I can see your beautiful face looking back at me.

Why are you looking at me like that? Like this isn’t what you wanted, okay I get it, my methods are a bit extreme. But it’s too late now, you said the words ‘I just wished Brian died some mysterious death so that I wouldn’t have to ever see him again’ yea you said that. I heard you say it to your best friend, Cardíerre, when you two were having a sleepover at her house two weeks ago. You’ll be regretting that statement when the news breaks, but you know what they say…be careful what you wish for.

#Jonathan Majors #you netflix #black!oc #black writers #headcannonxgalore

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bllsbailey · 3 months ago

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Biden Slides Into Series of Unhinged Rants During Detroit Remarks on Jobs

One of the things that is just so infuriating is when you look at the way Democrats and Republicans are treated in the media, in particular, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris versus former President Donald Trump.

They are constantly telling lies and repeating hoaxes about Trump, yet the media not only doesn't call them out on it, they repeat it and spread the hoaxes without question. Then they say Trump lies. It's a constant propaganda war machine to indoctrinate the public. The good thing is now, with the rise of new and independent media, that we can push back against all this nonsense.

Joe Biden was at it again in Detroit on Friday--that is, before he disappears on yet another weekend vacation in Delaware. He signed an executive order, while he was there, pertaining to jobs.

Biden told that lie he's always telling about "creating" 16 million new jobs. "Fact!" he shouted, while lying:

However, most of those jobs were recovered when people went back to work after the pandemic; he had nothing to do with it. Biden didn't "create" the recovered jobs. He spoke about the August jobs report that just came out, which was actually less than anticipated. What he didn't mention was how they've had to revise the prior job claims down, including the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) having to scale back the claims of jobs by 818,000. Biden also didn't mention the statistics about the loss of jobs for native-born Americans that also came out.

READ MORE: New Jobs Report Shows Millions of Americans Lost Jobs to 'Foreign-Born' Workers, F/T Work Yields to P/T

Stunning: BLS Announces Largest Downward Revision in Jobs in 15 Years

Then, this was pretty incredible: Was he bragging here, about spending that would make inflation worse? That's what it sounded like. Look at the crazy eyes as he ranted:

He claimed they reduced the budget at the same time, which is nonsensical; he's driven up spending. Does he even know what he's saying?

Biden then made a silly comment that he thought proved there was global warming, in addition to having Trump live rent-free in his brain:

Biden thinks Arizona being hot is proof of global warming. Pro tip? It gets hot in Arizona, especially in the summer.

But he can't even keep straight in his head how to pronounce Kamala's name, so I guess we can't expect him to grasp such concepts about summer being hot:

Remember when they said that mispronouncing her name wrong was racist? Well, I've lost count of how many times Joe has said it wrong, so I guess he has been racist those times.

Then he had this clip about the debunked, "suckers and losers" Trump story, as he tripped all over himself. He's so far gone. You can see he stopped halfway through, as he started to talk about his son:

I think he's probably been told to stop lying about his son being killed in the war."My son died!" he screamed. But he just can't stop himself from trying to shoehorn his son into falling in battle. He did slightly amend it as he added, "My... 'cause of a year in Iraq." That's deceiving the audience members, who think that means his son died in battle, especially with how he's reacting.

Yet, Beau died of cancer in 2015, years later. Biden has tried to suggest that he died because of burn pits in Iraq, but there's no evidence to support that. I think it's vile that he just wouldn't stop using his son this way.

If Biden actually cared about the military, he wouldn't be checking his watch when they come home dead as he did with the Abbey Gate 13. They died because of him. He would be talking to the families and answering their questions, not blowing off their questions and holding no one accountable. But those deaths don't serve his political purpose, so they don't get his attention.

He just keeps getting worse and more off the rails, and Kamala

bears a lot of responsibility for not being honest with the American people about his decline. You have to wonder who is really running the country because it sure doesn't seem like it's this addled man.

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albertasunrise · 2 years ago

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Meant to Be

Masterlist

Summary: Frankie was always the one who got away but when you learn that he's retired from the army and has moved back home. Your life falls apart.

Relationships: Reader x Original 'Male' Character, Reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: Like A03, I chose to give none. 18+

Your husband wasn’t a cruel man. But as time had gone on you'd come to learn he wasn’t a good one either.

Your life revolved around him. His wants and needs and never your own. But he supplied you with a safe, comfortable life and that's all you could have really hoped for. You’d loved him once and you were sure he had to but as the years had passed childlessly, your once blossoming romance had fizzled into something sour. You knew he resented you for not giving him a child. Blamed you for it and you blamed yourself to a degree but as the months blended into years, you found you blamed yourself less and came to terms with the fact that your having kids wasn't meant to be.

You'd imagined your life differently as a younger woman. You'd imagined it with a different man if you were being honest with yourself. You thought you'd met the one as a teenager but, like most childhood sweethearts, he got away. Francisco Morales. The man of your dreams had shipped out to the army as soon as he'd graduated and your relationship had lasted another year after that before you'd called it quits and broken the man's heart. Something you'd regretted to this day and had never imagined you'd see him again. How wrong you'd turn out to be.

"Did you hear the news?" Your best friend Sally asked as the two of you browsed through the sale rail of your favourite clothing store.

Your obvious look of confusion was all the answer she needed to know that you were oblivious to the latest gossip to spread around town.

"Morales moved back." She elaborated and your breath caught in your throat "Retired from the forces and decided to kick out the tenants renting his folk's old place and moved in himself." She finished, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled out a sweater she liked the look of.

"Oh." Was your reply, suddenly completely disinterested in shopping anymore.

"Think you'll see him?" She asked and this grabbed your full attention.

"Why would I see him?" You questioned, eliciting a snigger from your friend.

"We all know you never go over him." She stated and you felt your heart start to race and your cheeks grow hot "Thought you'd be all over, seeing him."

"I'm married, Sally." You warned and she scoffed.

"Yeah to a man that barely looks at you and who's definitely shagging his assistant." She grumbled and you felt a sting at her last statement.

"You don't know that." You choke and her demeanour changed upon hearing the crack in your voice.

"I'm sorry babe." She started as she threw a hand around your shoulder "I shouldn't have said that but you deserve better than the life you have."

"I'm fine." You replied with a shrug "He keeps a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food in my belly. What more can I ask for?"

"Happiness?" She shrieks "Love, passion, excitement... to name a few. He's an asshole and you need to leave him."

"It's not that easy Sally." You snapped "Where would I go? I have no job, no money."

"Your divorce would sort that out."

"Sally-"

"You can't keep living like this." She interrupted, taking your hand in hers and boring into you with her serious gaze "Waiting to die or for him to leave you."

"This is my life now." You said, your tone defeated and your heart heavy "I've made my bed."

Sally decided it was futile to argue any further. You weren't going to accept that you deserved better and she was tired of trying to convince you of the fact. So you finished off your shopping trip and turned down her invites for drinks that evening at your once favourite watering hole.

No way Joe would let you go.

Despite having little interest in sharing any sort of physical relationship with you he hated the idea of you having a social life outside of him. So going out for drinks with your girlfriends was not something you were able to attend anymore. You were limited to shopping trips and coffee. How dull your life had become.

Walking through your front door and placing your sparse shopping bags down on the polished marble floor, you announced your arrival as you toed off your shoes and hung up your coat. Not expecting the arms that wrapped around your middle and or the lips that found your neck.

He did this sometimes. Showed a fleeting interest in you and you took what you could get. For all his faults he wasn't a selfish lover.

He turned you in his arms and dropped to his knees before he pushed your underwear to one side and placed a teasing lick on your clit. You felt a jolt of pleasure surge through you and the moan that slipped past your lips was all the invitation your husband needed to continue. Credit where credit was due, he knew how to fuck with his tongue and it didn't take him long to have you cumming. Your legs then gave out and you were in his arms as he threw you down on the couch and pulled out his throbbing erection for the confines of his slacks. His lips returned to your neck as he lowered himself between your open legs and once again pushed your underwear to the side. Your eyes locked for a moment and you thought you saw a flicker of love in his eyes. Something you'd not seen for what felt like an eternity but then he was pushing inside of you and you weren't able to keep your eyes open then.

Sex with Joe was always good. Whether you wanted to admit it or not your husband could fuck but these sparse sessions only hurt more. You missed the way he used to worship the ground you walked on. How he'd not be able to get enough of you but then again, you were trying to get pregnant back then. This was now him looking for a release and that's all you were to him now.

A release.

He fucked into you expertly and you were cumming again in no time at all, moaning loudly as he continued his assault on that spongy spot inside of you that had your toes curling. He hooked one of your legs around his waist and the new angle started to stir another orgasm down in your loins. It took half a dozen more thrusts for the two of you to cum together and leaving you a sated mess on your couch.

"What was that for?" You asked between laboured breaths and Joe shrugged before slipping out of you and pulling his slacks back up again.

"I've got to go away for work for a few days." He stated simply "Should be back by Wednesday."

"Oh." You replied as you manoeuvred into a sitting position "Short notice."

"Tell me about it." He grumbled before grabbing the suitcase situated by the couch that you'd not noticed before "I'll call you tomorrow." He said, pecking your lips.

"You're leaving now?" You asked as you followed him out to the lobby and watched as he slipped on some shoes and grabbed his keys.

"Need to or I'll miss my flight."

"Well, safe trip." You said, receiving one last kiss before he disappeared out of the door and left you standing in the lobby.

You weren't sure how long passed before you slipped out your phone and dialled the number at the top of your caller list.

"Sally." You said simply as you let out a shaky breath "Count me in for tonight."

...

"I'm so happy you're here." Squealed Sophia as she pulled you into a tight hug "What changed your mind?"

"Husband's fucked off on a work trip." You said as you downed another apple sour shot "So I thought I would spend my evening seeing my girls." You finished as you woo'ed with your friends.

"It's been too long." Said Lacey as she placed a tray of drinks down on the table and handed you your triple gin and tonic.

"That it has." You agreed as you took a sip of your drink.

...

Frankie hadn't been in the mood for drinks but Benny was determined. So that's how he'd found himself sitting in a bar he'd only ever walked past as a teenager. What made the situation worse was that he was designated drive which meant not even the buzz of alcohol was a possible distraction.

His reason for being in such a foul mood was the information he'd learned upon moving back. He'd only been back a few weeks but when at the supermarket the previous afternoon he'd bumped into your school best friend and he'd learned through her that you were married. He wasn't sure why he was upset about it. You'd dumped him at the first sign of trouble but there had been a small part of him that had held out hope that there was still a chance for you both.

"Come on Fish." Ben groaned "You need to cheer the fuck up dude."

"Ben." His older brother warned but Benny waved him off.

"I don't know what's got your knickers all knotted up but we're out dude. We're free from all that shit now."

"I'm fine," Frankie grumbled, his eyes drifting to a rowdy table across the bar.

He realised quickly that he knew the girls, they'd all been in your year at school and he was fairly sure that you were friends with them. Ho noted Sally, the one who'd told him just yesterday about your marital status and Sophia who'd been attached to your hip once. Movement in the corner of his eye then grabbed his attention and that's when he saw you with a tray of drinks in hand. You were just as beautiful as the day he'd kissed you goodbye in the airport when he was 19. More so if that was even possible.

"She's hot." Ben teased, dragging the older man from his thoughts.

"She's my ex." Frankie grumbled, his attention returning to the one beer of the night he was able to drink.

"Shit, really?" Benny exclaimed and Frankie nodded "She's smoking Fish., Is she single?"

"No." He replied simply, his tone grabbing Will's attention "She'd married."

"Sound a little sour about that Catfish?" Will questioned, "Something still there?"

"She broke my heart twenty years ago." He growled, "Nothing there Will."

"Well, you got me convinced." Benny snorted and Frankie felt his temper growing even shorter.

"Believe what you want." He snapped as he pushed himself to his feet "I need a piss."

He stormed off, leaving two amused Miller brothers in his wake. He hated how seeing you had stirred up all those feelings he'd thought he had buried all those years ago. He went to the bathroom, took a breather and left a few minutes later, only to collide with a soft body.

"Shit, I'm sorry I wasn't looking where I was going." He said as shook his head and turned to look at the innocent person he'd just barged into.

"Frankie?" You questioned and his eyes grew wide as your name fell from his lips "Shit." You said as you let out a shocked breath "Wow, how are you? You look... You look good."

"You too." He replied and he swore he saw you blush.

"How are you?" You asked again and he shrugged.

"Good as can be expected." He replied and you nodded.

"I hear you're married." He said and your stomach twisted "Congrats."

"We've been married a few years now." You said, your face dropped "Nothing to congratulate."

"You happy?" He asked and you were rendered speechless.

You'd never been able to lie to this man and twenty years on that was still that case. So all you could do was shrug and Frankie couldn't help but frown at that.

"Looks like my party has made some new friends." You said as your eyes drifted to your table, Frankie's eyes following yours.

"Those would be my friends." He sighed as he scraped a hand over his face.

"Guess we should make sure they're not getting into trouble."

"Sure."

"Chica, look at these two dreamboats we met." Screeched Sally as you made your way over to the table "This is Will and Benny... They're brothers and -"

"Complete trouble." Interrupted Frankie as he came to stop beside you.

"Francisco Morales... Fancy seeing you here." Said Sally as she pulled him into a sideways hug "You know these two."

"Sadly." He replied with a smirk and Benny gave him the finger as your friends chuckled.

You all stayed together then. The girls cooed over the boys and you sat there awkwardly with Frankie as you watched. The conversation got more and more personal as more drink was consumed and you were glad you were drunk when you and Frank became the subject matters'.

"So Francisco." Sally started as she sipped on her cocktail "No wife and kids to speak of?"

"Nope." He replied, popping the 'p' before sipping his soda.

"Don't get him wrong." Benny started and Frankie instantly cringed "This guy is the pussy king!" He gushed and you felt sick.

Of course, there had been others since you. It wasn't like you were it for him and he was to remain alone for the rest of his life but to hear it out loud still stung.

"Shared a bunk with him for years and some of the women he managed to sneak back..."

"How's married life?" Will asked, changing the subject when he noted both yours and Frankie's uncomfortable demeanours "No kids?"

Your shoulders sank and your face dropped. Sally noticed it straight away and went to speak but you beat her to the punch, the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence.

"We tried." You said with a shrug, your posture changing completely "Never happened for us and now he despises me for it." You finished with a false laugh and the whole table fell silent.

"I'm sorry," Will said after a few tense moments of silence and you shrugged again.

"It wasn't meant to be I guess." You replied with a shrug, noting out of the corner of your eye how Frankie was looking at you with those sad brown eyes. The ones that let you to fall for him in the first place.

Frankie couldn't believe what he was hearing. It explained your reaction earlier when he'd asked if you were happy. He could see it now. How haunted you were and his heart broke for you. He's always hoped that you'd end up happy. Sure he'd prayed it would be with him but as the years had gone on he had come to terms with the fact that it wouldn't be.

A few more drinks were consumed before the night came to an end. Sally left with Will and Sophie with Ben who had left you alone with Frankie and stood on the sidewalk outside the bar in awkward silence.

"How are you getting home?" He asked as you fiddled with your hands.

"Well I have gotten a taxi with Sally but she's gone home with your friend so... I guess I'll get a cab on my own." You chuckled nervously.

"I can give you a ride?" He suggested and you looked up at him with wide eyes "I was designated driver but guess I got ditched too." She chuckled and that made you smile "I don't like the idea of you getting a cab home alone. Please... let me give you a ride."

"Sure." You said after a few moments of silence and Frankie nodded, motioning for you to follow him as he lead you to his truck.

He opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside before closing it and making his way around to the driver's side. Jumping in his was fast to start it up and peel away, driving you home with your quiet directions. It felt like it had all those decades ago. Him driving you somewhere quiet so you could steal perfect moments together before he had to get you home. You couldn't stop yourself from glancing at him every now and then as he drove you in stoic silence.

When he pulled up in front of your large house his eyes grew wide and you smirked at his reaction to your home. You sat there in tense silence for a few moments before you plucked up the courage to speak.

"Do you want to come in?" You asked, eyes hopeful as you looked at him.

"Are you sure?" He asked, smiling at the nervous nod you gave him.

He opened your door for you and followed silently as you led him to the front door, watching as you shakily pushed your key into the lock. Stepping inside he copied you as you toed off your shoes and before he followed you to a large, modern, kitchen that put his to shame.

“Drink?” You asked and he nodded “Just water’s fine.”

“Just water?” You chuckled “I have beer?”

“I shouldn’t.” He replied shyly “Got to drive and all that.”

“Sure… right, of course.” You said, shaking your head and grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

After pouring him the beverage from the fridge, you handed him the glass and went about pouring yourself a glass of wine. The silence that hung over you both then for a short while was suffocating. You'd not thought this far ahead. All you'd thought about was how you didn't want him to leave just yet, you wanted him to stay just a little longer.

"So how long have you been married?" He asked, finally breaking the silence between you.

"6 years this August." You replied, your eyes unconsciously drifting to the silver bands on your left hand.

"He a good guy?" He asked and you sighed, feeling your throat tighten.

"He was amazing at first." You confessed, eyes drifting to the glass in your hands "But when we discovered we couldn't have kids he got sour."

"I'm sorry." He said sadly as his eyes captured yours "You would have been an amazing mum."

You let out a sad chuckle at that. You'd always liked to think you would be but as time had gone on you'd started to wonder how good a parent Joe would have been.

"I guess the universe thought differently." You joked, eliciting a sympathetic smile from him "Just wasn't meant to be I guess."

"You can't seriously believe that?" He asked and you sighed.

"Well I've not been blessed with children so to be the evidence is pretty conclusive." You said with a shrug, trying hard to fight the tears that were threatening to spill.

Silence fell over the two of you again for a while as you sipped at your wine and him, his water. It felt oddly normal to have him there with you yet tense that you were standing in the kitchen of the house you share with your husband, with the man you knew you were still in love with.

"You know I always hoped you'd find happiness." Frankie uttered after a little while "Despite you breaking my heart I always routed for you to have the best life possible."

"I always wanted that for you too." You stated and he scoffed at that "Did you not?"

"I killed people for a living for almost half my life." He replied shortly "What do you think?"

You winced at his reply and he instantly regretted his tone "I had to do a lot of unforgivable things, all in the name of my country." He confessed after a short pause "I don't deserve a good life for what I've done."

"You deserve the best life has to offer Frankie." You said softly "I've always regretted ending things with you." You sobbed "Truth be told you were the one man I could picture spending my life with and I let you go."

"Why did you?" His question took you by surprise but you didn't hesitate to answer it. He deserved the truth.

"Because the thought of losing you was too much to bear." You confessed, "I thought if I broke it off, it would ease the pain of knowing you could die at any point but all it did was break my heart and leave me hollow." You sobbed, not holding back the tears now "You were the love of my life and I lost you."

Frankie could help what he did next. Knowing that you'd regretted breaking things off with him, selfishly, was all he'd ever wanted to hear. Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you into a biting kiss that made your toes curl and your core ache.

Before you knew it your underwear was pushed to one side and he was buried to the hilt, thrusting hard and deep as he swallowed your moans. Your nails dug into the muscles on his back, clinging on for dear life as he tore several orgasms out of you before succumbing to his own release and then he collapsed over you as he caught his breath, practically purring as you run your nails through his hair.

"Shit." He breathed after a short while and you chuckled at his statement "That was..."

"Perfect?" You finished for him as you smiled down at him "We shouldn't have done that but I'm having a hard time regretting it." You confessed after a short pause, moaning when he pulled himself out of your heat and tucked himself into his jeans.

"I'm sorry." He sighed as he scraped a hand over his face and you suddenly panicked at his change of demeanour.

"I should go."

"No, please... Don't-"

"I have to." He interrupted as he grabbed his keys and made his way to the front door, you were hot on his heels "It was nice to see you again." He said without looking at you and then he was out of the door and you were left there to sob over what had been the best thing to happen to you in years.

2 Months Later...

Your hands shook as you held that stick of plastic in your hand. You felt sick. How, after all those years of trying, were you now looking at the second positive pregnancy test you'd taken that afternoon.

How was this happening?

You slowly started to panic the longer you stared at it. It was a disaster and you didn't even know where to start in terms of how to deal with it. You knew you had to tell your husband and you knew he was going to be excited but you also had to tell Frankie.

There was a chance it was his too.

Grabbing the tests and shoving them in your pocket you made your way to the front door and grabbed your keys and bag. Slipping your shoes on, you made your way to your car and, after taking a steadying breath you got in. Driving to Frankies, you were relieved to see that his truck was on the drive and after parking up behind it, you hopped out of the car and briskly walked to his front door.

It didn't take him long to answer after you knocked but his shock at seeing you stook there made your stomach twist into painful knots.

"What are you doing here?" He asked and you thought you were going to cry at that alone.

Instead, you let out a steadying breath before you answered him.

"We need to talk." You said firmly "Can I come in?"

He said nothing, just opened the door wider so that you could enter. You looked back when you heard the door slam behind you and then you made your way to his kitchen, sitting at his table, you waited for him to join you.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked plainly and you felt your nerves come to a head. God, you could be sick.

"Well uh... I need to talk about that night."

"Why?" He groaned "It was a mistake. You're married. We need to move on."

"Yeah well, I wish it were that simple." You snapped and his expression changed.

"Why isn't it?"

"Because I'm pregnant Francisco." You growled, slamming the two positive tests on the table.

That stopped him dead in his tracks. He started at the two tests, both saying 6 - 7 weeks along. He's regretted that night since it happened. Not because of what happened but because you had been drunk and he'd taken advantage of that. So now to see that from that night, he was facing the possibility of being a father, he regretted it even more.

"Is it mine or?..."

"Fifty per cent chance." You confessed "But let's be realistic. I try for five years to get pregnant with my husband and then I fuck you one time and bam... Baby."

"What are you going to do?" He asked and you sighed "Are you..."

"Going to keep it?"

He nodded.

"Yes, I am going to keep it." You scoffed "But I need to tell my husband I am pregnant and there's only a fifty per cent chance it's his."

"Shit." He breathed and you nodded in agreement.

"I only came here to tell you because you have a right to know." You stated plainly "I don't expect anything from you and if turns out to be yours well... You only have to be involved if you want to be."

Frankie nodded. He was numb and completely at a loss for words. It was his lack of reaction that had you scoffing before you scooped up the tests and grabbed your bag, barely saying goodbye before you were out the door and halfway to your car.

When he realised you were gone, he ran out after you. Only to find he was too late and you were gone. He groaned in frustration at his reaction to your news. He's just been so shocked by it. Seeing you at his door, that had not been what he'd expected when you'd said you needed to talk to him.

Now you were gone and he was completely lost.

...

At home, you'd just finished up the dishes when you're husband had called to say he was going to be working late. So you started on dinner for yourself, something that he could reheat when he got home and then sat to watch TV whilst it cooked in the oven. Joe's iPad lighting up a short while later caught your attention. It was unusual for him to leave it laying around and so you couldn't help your curiosity. Noticing it was a text, you tapped on the notification and what you saw made you sick.

'Can't wait for you to breed me later baby'

You read the first message and choked. It was, sure enough, from his secretary. What a fucking cliché.

'Make round with you baby J.'

Popped up another message a short while later.

You'd known deep down he was cheating. It was obvious. The late nights the secrecy. They had all been warning signs but to see it confirmed in writing hurt but that's not what you were most angry about. No, you were angry that he was not fucking his assistant... but that he was trying to get her pregnant in the process. That made your blood boil. You may have slipped up but this was something completely different and you knew you had to leave.

Your bag was packed less than an hour later. You packed what you could into your car and you drove to the first place you could think of. Sally's.

1 Month Later...

Frankie had been browsing the cereal aisle when he'd bumped into Sally. He's desperately tried to sneak past but she had the eyes of a hawk and he was soon cornered by the Coco Pops.

"Haven't seen you since that night out what... three months ago?" She asked and Frankie shrugged.

"About that yeah." He confirmed, "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine." She replied, "My girl on the other hand is a mess." She stated and Frankie's stomach sank "Girls 3 1/2 months pregnant and in the middle of getting a divorce."

"What?" He exclaimed, the last statement taking him by surprise "Why?"

"Fucker is shagging his assistant." Sally revealed, "What's worse if they're trying for a kid together." She continued "Well they were and then he found out she was pregnant and he's been begging for her to forgive him."

"Shit."

"Turns out though that there's a chance it's not his."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She said with a nod "Had a weak moment a few months back and well... Kid might be the other guys but apparently he doesn't want anything to do with it so-"

"I never said that." Frankie expelled, eyes widening at his sudden confession.

"Wait what?" She practically yelled "She didn't tell me who the other guy was... It's you??"

"We uh... The night we met up, I took her home and we got to talking and one thing led to another-"

A hand impacting his face was not what he'd expected to happen to him whilst doing his weekly shop that day yet here he was, rubbing his cheek as your best friend glowered at him.

"She's in pieces." She scorned "She's all alone, pregnant with a baby that could be yours."

"I've been meaning to talk to her its just... Well, I didn't know what to say."

"Say that you'll support her." She shrieked "You're a better man than Joe, I know that for a fact so step up and take responsibility! It takes two people to make a baby."

"Where's she staying?" He asked, knowing she was right and that he had to make this right.

"Mine." She stated "I'm going to be out this evening if you wanted to talk to her alone.

He nodded and she sighed "Please don't hurt my friend Frankie." She pleaded "She's suffered enough."

...

You hadn't been expecting a knock at the door that night. Sally was out on a double date with Sophia and the Miller brothers. She'd asked if you wanted her to stay but the truth was you just wanted some time alone to grieve. Your life as you knew it was over and you were facing bringing a baby into the world without the love and support of the man you knew was its daddy. Without a shadow of a doubt, you were certain.

You stiffly walked to the front door, not thinking to check who it was before you pulled it open but when you saw it was Frankie standing there your eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"Frank?" You all but whispered, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk." He replied, "If that's okay?"

You nodded. Opened the door and motioned for him to come in before closing it behind him. You led him to the lounge, muted the TV and motioned for him to sit as you plonked yourself back on the couch.

"How are you?" He asked although he knew that answer already.

"My life's falling apart." You scoffed "How do you think?"

"I'm sorry." He replied, instantly regretting his question "How's the baby?" He asked after a short pause and you sighed as you rubbed your now slightly swollen belly.

"They're okay. Had my first scan and they were pleased with its progress so that's positive." You replied and he nodded "Why have you come here, Francisco?"

"I want to be a father to this baby." He stated simply "If it's mine and you want that."

"Frankie I-"

"I reacted like a complete idiot when you told me but I was shocked." He confessed "The last thing I'd been expecting you to tell me was that you were pregnant but I saw Sally today and she literally slapped sense into me and I... Well, baby, I love you and I want us to be a family but if just being a father is all you're willing to give me then that's fine."

"And if we are a family and it turns out that it isn't yours?"

"Then I will love it anyway."

That was all you needed to hear. Next thing you knew you were on his lap and kissing him like you needed it to breathe. Finally pulling away to breathe you looked him in the eye and you smiled.

"Take that as a yes then." He stated before you laughed and kissed him again.

It was definitely a yes.

6 Months Later...

"Well, shit that's a cute kid." Said Ben as he propped his head on Sally's shoulder.

"He's beautiful." Sally gushed as she looked up at you and Frankie laying on the hospital bed.

"How are you feeling hun?" Ben asked as he came to stand beside you and place a sweet kiss on your brow.

"Exhausted." You confessed and he chuckled "But I wouldn't have been able to do it without Fishcakes here."

"I thought we were past the nicknames." He grumbled and you all chuckled.

"I just pushed your eight-pound baby out my vagina and now have stitches to prove it." You scoffed "I can call you what I like."

"Touchê." He conceded and you chuckled.

"Did you have a paternity test done?" Ben asked and you both nodded

"I mean it's obvious who his father is but Joe was adamant that we get it done. He wasn't a happy bunny when the news was broken." You stated.

"No, he was not." Agreed Frankie as he rubbed his still sore jaw.

"You got a name yet?" Sally asked and you both shared a look before nodding.

"Luka." You said in unison and the others gasped.

"Luka Morales." Ben said, testing the name on his tongue "It suits you, little buddy." He said as Sally handed him the baby.

As watched your best friend and Frankie's coo over your newborn, a sense of peace washed over you. In the months that had followed, you discovered what true happiness felt like. The love and adoration Frank had showered you with had led you to realise that your life with Joe had never been good.

"You okay?" Frankie asked, quiet enough that only you could hear him.

"Yeah." You replied as you rested your head on your shoulder "Tired but so fucking happy."

"Me too." He replied, kissing you sweetly before pulling away to look you in the eyes again "Marry me?" He asked and tears started to form in your tired eyes.

Frank instantly panicked "Or not... It was just an idea but if you don't-"

"Yes." You interrupted and he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and you both stared at each other.

"Yes?"

"Yes Francisco Morales... Love of my life and father of my child." You started, smiling at him sweetly "I will marry you."

He kissed you deeply, stealing the air from your lungs before he broke it and rested his forehead against yours.

"Great." He replied and you chuckled.

"Great."

Taglist form

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whumpcereal · 2 years ago

Text

behavior modification, future snippet

master list here. a little peek into jack and joe's new life after jack's WRU contract is voided, somewhere after this piece. the sculpture referenced is canova's cupid and psyche. this is mostly fluff, which i offer to you in the hopes that you'll forgive me for all the bad things i will surely still do to these boys.

content warnings: references to past trauma and captivity, bbu/bbu-adjacent

future snippet, eros

Jack can’t list all the things he missed.

Part of it is that he didn’t have enough control of his own mind to really miss anything at all. Everything comes back to him in fits and starts. He missed Carl. Legos. Cooking. Standing under a hot shower. The feeling of a cool pillowcase beneath his cheek. A glass of whiskey while he does the crossword.

And Joe. Joe, calling him an old man for doing the crossword. Joe, reading to him at night. Joe’s complete ineptitude in the kitchen. The cold warmth of Joe’s kisses just after he’s taken a drink. Joe’s gentle hands on his skin. Joe, and everything they used to do together.

Things like Sunday visits to the museum.

In the in between, it was too hard. Jack wasn’t supposed to move freely outside the house. If Joe wanted to take him anywhere, there were specific WRU protocols. Like the collar. Joe wouldn’t collar him, wouldn’t do anything to signal to others what Jack was so long as he was under contract, so they didn’t do much.

But the contract is voided now. Jack doesn’t belong to anyone but himself; Joe says he never did. And so they’re here, at the museum.

Joe once said he fell in love with Jack at the Met. He fell in love with Jack while Jack fell in love with art.

Jack had never been to a museum before Joe. It wasn’t something anyone would have thought to do with a kid like him. But immediately, he was grateful to Joe for bringing him. He’d always thought museums were cold, dead places, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. There was something about knowing he was surrounded by beautiful pieces of other people that had managed to survive decades and centuries beyond their creators that made him feel a little less alone. The white eyes of the sculptures and busts, the faces in the paintings, all of them had outlasted whatever horrors came before. Maybe Jack could too.

Of course Jack fell in love with art. How could he not?

Jack doesn’t know when he fell in love with Joe again, but being here, he can feel it. It sits, warm in his chest. Alive again, just like Jack is. He survived, like everything else in this museum.

“You remember when we used to do this?” Joe asks. His fingers thread through Jack’s as they step into the Great Hall.

Jack nods, kissing Joe’s cheek. “I missed it,” he says, and it’s true, even if he didn’t realize it at the time.

“I missed it too,” Joe says shyly. It doesn’t take a genius to sort out that he wasn’t spending his weekends on Museum Mile while Jack was with Ivan.

It’s something they haven’t talked much about, actually: what Joe’s life was like then. Jack’s suffering is well-documented—literally, thanks to Ivan—but Joe likes to ignore his own. Jack remembers when Joe worried himself into the hospital. Who knows how bad it was before he came home?

Jack thinks Joe still looks a little tired, in his slouchy professorial way. Rumpled sweater, tousled hair, and dark smudges beneath his pretty green eyes. Only now, Joe is the right kind of tired. The kind that suggests that he’s earned it, that something big is over and done.

And it is. Joe doesn’t have to worry anymore. Neither of them do, even though Jack knows they will. It will be a difficult habit to break. But they have to try. They deserve a little peace and quiet.

Jack kisses Joe again, and Joe’s cheeks color. It feels good, Jack thinks, to have that effect on Joe again. It feels good to choose.

“Where should we start?“ Joe asks.

Jack pretends to consider. He looks to his right, even though he knows he won’t be able to visit the Egyptian wing for a long time; the death masks and sarcophagi hit different now. To his left, he knows he’ll find the brighter galleries of the Greco-Roman collection, but something about wandering through statues missing their various pieces and parts doesn’t exactly appeal to Jack just now either. He lets his gaze stop on the grand staircase and then looks down at Joe with a tentative smile.

“I should’ve guessed,” Joe says, squeezing Jack’s hand. “Let’s go.”

There’s one piece they always have to visit. Well, really, it’s Jack who has to visit; Joe just humors him. Every time they come to the museum, Jack makes the pilgrimage upstairs and weaves through the galleries of smug portraits of rich people and pastel cherubs until he finds it.

It’s a plaster model of Cupid and Psyche. Jack knows the story: the beautiful girl who finds herself in Aphrodite’s crosshairs when she dares to love Cupid. Mythology was one of the only things Jack liked when he bothered to show up to English class. The sculpture catches the two young lovers just as Cupid is waking Psyche from her sleeping death with a gentle kiss. He cradles her head in his carved hands, and her arms reach for him. Something about it makes Jack’s chest ache. It always has.

He knows the finished version is in the Louvre–at this point, he knows everything about it–but Jack likes something about the plaster’s rough finish, how he can see the pins marking the artist’s reference. It makes Jack feel like he could almost reach out and touch it.

It takes a minute for Jack to find the right gallery. The European collections are always crowded, and on a weekend, it’s even worse. He clings to Joe’s hand as he tries to remember the way, feeling a little bit like a lost child. But he isn’t lost. He couldn’t be, not with Joe by his side. He knows that now.

He hears Joe’s breath shift before he sees it.

“There it is, Jackie. Look.”

And it is there. They’re there. Cupid and Psyche, Joe and Jack. Just like they always have been.

No one else in the gallery is even looking at the piece, too distracted by the stuffy paintings on the wall. Jack’s never understood why they put it all the way back here.

They move close to the white pedestal, still hand in hand.

“I love this one,” Jack says. Needlessly, of course, because Joe knows.

Joe lets go of his hand and then wraps his arm around Jack’s waist. He presses a kiss to Jack’s shoulder. “I know you do. I do too. I–”

“What?”

“I came here a few times. Before. While you were–”

Joe doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Jack understands.

“Oh.”

“It made me feel closer to you.”

Joe wraps both arms around Jack, as if to remind himself that he can.

There was no way for Jack to feel closer to Joe while he was away. Ivan did everything he could to sever that connection, and he’d been successful. Like Psyche in the myth, Jack was enslaved by his tormentor, sure that he’d been abandoned by the person he loved most.

But Joe never abandoned him. Jack knows that now. He won’t abandon Joe either.

He looks at the model, pressing Joe close to him. And even if the two lovers are impossibly beautiful, Jack sees them–him and Joe. Maybe Jack’s death was waking instead of sleeping, but he knows what it is to be punished in the name of someone else’s jealousy, and he knows what it is to be revived by love. It might have taken more than a single kiss to bring Jack back, but it was Joe’s love that did it. It doesn’t matter how cheesy it sounds; Jack knows it’s true.

Joe chose him, and Jack will choose Joe forever. It’s something Jack hasn’t let himself think about in a very long time, but just now, he can’t ignore his certainty. He doesn’t take being certain for granted anymore.

“Joey?”

“Hmm?”

“Joey?” Jack says again.

“What is it, baby?”

The words slip out without fanfare; Jack doesn’t even have the wherewithal to drop to one knee. He just knows he has to ask, and so he does. “Will you marry me?”

Joe’s face turns toward Jack, his mouth hanging open. “Jackie–do you–”

“I mean it,” Jack says. “You–you brought me back. You waited for me. I–please, Joey. Please say yes.”

Joe’s cheeks are pink again, and he reaches up to brace his hands on either side of Jack’s face. “I don’t want you to feel obligated–”

“I don’t,” Jack interrupts. His hands are light on Joe’s shoulders, and he can feel eyes shifting toward them, but he doesn’t care; Jack is used to being watched, and at least this is worth watching. “I want you. I know it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Joe’s lips. “I choose this. I choose you.”

“I choose you too,” Joe says breathlessly. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they are bright with tears. “Yes, Jackie. Yes.”

They kiss again, just like the stone lovers behind them, and Jack knows that he has finally made his way back.

taglist: @oddsconvert, @darkthingshappen, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @sparrowsage, @aut0psy-s, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @termsnconditions-apply, @darlingwhump, @squishablesunbeam, @dont-be-gentle-please, @deltaxxk, @irishwhiskeygrl, @keep-beach-city-werid, @keeper-of-all-the-random-things, @hold-him-down, @peachy-panic, @whumpyblogthing, @sowhumpful, @considerablecolors, @ramadiiiisme, @sunnywhump

#behavior modifcation #future snippet #jack kenyon oc #joe prescott oc #past trauma #bbu/bbu adjacent #recovery #fluff #gentlemen in love #art is good for the soul apparently

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ecliptsukki · 4 years ago

Text

his delinquent phase ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki // cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff

➣ warnings: adam’s existence

➣ request: can i request a one shot where you’re cherrys s/o and like childhood best friends with joe and cherry and adam and you’re gushing over cherrys old bad boy look with piercings and everuthing and cherry one day goes to S with his piercings and hair the same way as before just to see you fawn over him skjfks

➣ a/n: this took me three times to type up because the first two times i did it, tumblr thought it would be funny to delete it. i’m not sure if i love how this came out, but it’s still better than my original plan. hopefully this was correct to what the anon requested. enjoy!

ps: i’m also going to be going on a trip for four days tomorrow, so i’m not sure if i’ll be able to post. i’ll definitely try to start working on my other requests!

You had known Joe, Cherry, and Adam ever since the four of you were in high school. Out of the three, you had met Joe, first, not soon before you met Cherry.

You were walking down the eventful streets of Okinawa, admiring the sights and getting accustomed with the area. You had moved to the city not too long ago and already were growing attached to the place. In your defense, the city was your perfect and desired location to live in.

A gentle breeze blew through your hair, rustling the leaves of the green trees. You sighed at the feeling of the cool breeze tickling your warm skin. Not long after that breeze had gone, another, harsher breeze blew past you. You flinched at the abnormally sharp wind, snapping your head to the side, in its direction. You were met with honey red eyes and short, green locks, swaying.

The male slips past you, stopping abruptly.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, embarrassed, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You were in awe, seeing what the boy was standing on, and on alert because you had always been taught to be cautious around strangers, especially when you were walking alone.

“Um, no. I’m alright, just shocked,” you shrugged, replying quietly.

Another harsh, but gentler than before, wind blows past you, revealing a pink-haired male. He had three piercings on his ear and one on his lip. Half of the boy’s face was hidden by his long bangs, allowing your focus to lock on his golden eye.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps at his green-haired friend. “Sorry about him,” he apologizes, giving you a polite smile.

All the sirens were going off in your head.

He has so many piercings! Is he a delinquent? Are both of them delinquents? If they are, I can’t fight them off on my own. What do I do?

“I’m Kaoru,” the bubblegum-haired male suddenly said, “This is Kojiro.”

Kojiro nodded at you, an embarrassed blush still grazing his cheeks.

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid?” Kaoru asked, finding your puzzlingly familiar.

“Oh, that’s why I felt like I’ve met you before,” Kojiro spoke up, nodding his head when he realized who you were.

Awkwardly, you shyly respond, “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember seeing you guys at school. Are you in my class?”

Until dusk, the three of you talked, getting to know the each of you better. You were also able to befriend the boys you were so afraid of, becoming your first two friends in the city.

You met Adam in the dark of night, beside Cherry and Joe.

They had brought you along, one night, wanting to skate with you. You already knew the basics of skating, nothing more, nothing less. Therefore, as your closest, and only, friends, they wanted to get further acquainted with you in something they loved.

“Who’s the sweet cheeks?” His hoodie-covered eyes left an eerie pressure on you, causing goosebumps to emerge from your skin.

“This is our close friend, Y/N L/N,” Cherry spoke up.

“She goes to school with us, and we wanted to bring her skating. Mind her tagging along?” Joe asks his hooded friend.

“Not at all, just as long as she can keep up,” he spoke in a cocky tone.

The pretentious attitude the unnamed face had was irking you in the wrong way. He seemed too mysterious for your liking. A third of the boy’s face was hidden in the shadow of his hoodie, leaving you only able to see the blue tips of his hair and his structured nose.

He must’ve noticed your timid stare because he looks at you, under his hood, “Call me Adam.”

Cherry and Joe look at you expectingly.

“Just call me sweet cheeks, for now,” you reply, distantly, not ready to let your guard down just yet.

You hear your two friends sigh, chuckling to each other.

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, soon,” Cherry told Adam, “We know firsthand how she is with meeting new people.”

You blush, remembering your first encounter with the pair.

Thinking back, you still regret letting your walls down and accepting Adam as a friend. Not a day goes by that Adam doesn’t linger in your mind, as much as you’d hate to admit.

You despise that man with a passion. From your first interaction, you should’ve known that there was something off about the blue-haired male, but pondering on these frustrations now wouldn’t change anything. As much as you’d like to curse the man for hurting your friends’ and your feelings, you knew you had to move on.

You sat on the soft mattress of your shared bed, scrolling through old pictures stored on your phone. You saw pictures taken by Kaoru when you guys went on dates. Majority of the photos were candid, seeing as he always had told you that you were the “most photogenic woman” he had ever met.

You remember the day he had told you that. You also remember your laughed reply.

“Then you’ve got the whole world to explore, my love.”

Although, honestly, you thought Kaoru was quite the photogenic one himself. His gorgeous, sorted, pink hair matched with his golden eyes and perfect face never looked bad, not even at the crack of dawn or in the late of night.

Speaking of which, you scrolled upon a photograph of Kaoru sitting all pretty with his piercings on display. Those piercings brought back many memories, humorous and lustful.

Ironically, the thing that brought you fear before now brings you yearning.

Honestly, once you had befriended Kaoru and came to trust him, the piercings no longer frightened you but instead, fascinated you. Those metal hoops further increased your attraction to the ponytailed man, leading you to the relationship you were in now.

Obviously, Kojiro played a big role in setting the two of you up together because both of you were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings. It got to the point that Adam almost had to step in and wack some sense into the both of you.

Anyways, ever since Kaoru had started working in the calligraphy business, he removed his piercings to maintain a professional image. You detested the idea, but you also knew that it was the best for his business.

Now that you were looking back at photos of Kaoru as a teenager, you began to crave seeing him in those metal rings once more. You missed the “bad boy” look your boyfriend used to have, not that you didn’t appreciate how he looked now. It’s just that there’s a different vibe to his current and past aesthetics.

As you stalked through more pictures of teenage Kaoru, you were unaware of the very man you were thinking about watching you. He noticed the longing and craving in your gaze. Then, he caught a glimpse of what was being projected on your screen: it was him but in his teenage years.

Suddenly, everything clicked for Kaoru, and he had the perfect plan in mind.

Something was off. Usually your boyfriend would insist on bringing you to “S” himself but not today. If anything, he was urging you to go with Kojiro.

“He’s been your friend for the same amount of time as I. You should take this time to your advantage and catch up,” was Kaoru’s excuse.

First of all, catch up on what? It’s not like you haven’t talked to Kojiro in months. Actually, you talked to him a day ago, at “S.” Secondly, what’s up with the sudden lenience and weak excuses?

Joe, who was also in on the plan, tried to help his friend out, making a feeble attempt to lure you with free food.

“I can get free food from you whenever I want,” you replied, squinting suspiciously at your friend.

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” That pulled a raised brow from you and a regret-filled face from the muscular man.

Though you weren’t fully convinced that nothing was off, you still left with Joe, caving into their terrible attempts of covering up whatever they were hiding from you.

You had arrived at “S” with Joe for about ten minutes now, but there was still no sightings of your beloved, Cherry. Joe caught glimpse of your searching eyes and reassured you that he would be coming, be it later than usual.

Reki, Langa, and Miya had made their way over to you, sparking up a conversation with you, making you forget about the missing presence of a specific male.

Miya was explaining the new training regiment and diet he was to use in order to advance his strength, leading you to worry for the small teenager. If he didn’t eat enough, it could become fatal to him. You didn’t understand why a child was being treated so harshly by his managers, forcing him to eat barely anything and train long hours of the day.

You were concernedly asking Miya if he was feeling alright and offered him an energy bar you carried around in case of emergencies, which he gratefully accepted, when you heard the cheers of fangirls behind you. Knowing they weren’t meant for Joe, you turned around to meet the golden eyes you’d fallen in love with.

This time, there was something different. His face wasn’t hidden by his mask. You could see the pale skin of his cheeks and the pink of his lips. Besides the absence of the black cloth, you noticed metallic rings decorating your boyfriend’s lip and ears. Also, his hair wasn’t whipping behind him, as per usual, but laid low, drifting in the wind.

For a hot moment, you had thought you had finally lost it, but when you blinked your eyes, looking at Miya then back to Cherry, you realized you were still sane and your boyfriend still looked like he aged back into his high school days.

“Is that Cherry?” Miya asked from beside you.

You nodded, speechless.

You heard someone let out a loud laugh beside you, “Since when did he have piercings?”

Ignoring the redhead’s outburst, you were mesmerized by the Cherry you had been obsessing over a couple days ago. It felt like one extravagant dream that you didn’t want to wake up from. In your defense, as he stepped of his skateboard, coming to embrace you, he looked straight out of a fantasy. His skin was practically glowing, and his hair gently floated perfectly onto his shoulders.

“Hello, darling,” he spoke in a sultry voice, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as he held you in his muscular arms.

“K-Kao—” you quickly realize your soon-to-be mistake and fix it, “Cherry.”

His eyes shrink as he laughs, endearingly, admiring the flustered and confused look you were portraying.

“Is this why you and Joe were being so weird earlier today?” You asked, cheek pressed against his slim, toned chest.

“Indeed, my love. What do you think? Definitely brings back some memories of the old days,” he lifts your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love it. It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you smile brightly, eyes lustrous. Pushing yourself up on your toes, you whisper into his ear, “You also look really hot.” You quickly pull away, turning a vibrant red.

“I think you broke her,” Joe told his friend, placing a heavy hand on the pink-nette’s shoulder.

After the supposed one occurrence surprise, you began to avidly ask him to wear his piercings, loving how attractive and domineering he looked in them. If he denied, you would ask him to, at least, tie his hair in the relaxed half up half down hairdo. He didn’t mind the different hairstyle as much as he did the piercings so it became a normal look for him. The only times he would willingly put on his piercings were when he was going to “S” or when the two of you were safe in the comfort of your own home, for research purposes.

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raedear · 4 years ago

Note

If you reblogged this bc you are taking prompts: random 33? 😍

33 - ‘Welcome back. Now fucking help me.’

Warnings: non-graphic violence, implied torture

aaah haha hope you liked the spy thing from earlier???

Contrary to popular opinion, Joe does actually know how to keep himself out of trouble. He knows when to back off a mission if it gets too hot, and he knows exactly how much of himself to expose at any given time, and not an inch more. He knows how to cover his tracks, and how to blend back into normal society without issue.

That’s what makes it so fucking galling that they picked him up in a supermarket of all places. He wasn’t even on a mission, he was just buying cat food - they made him through sheer bad luck. Some combination of the wrong person spotting him at the wrong time. Yes, he knows he should have at least shaved his beard off before trying to blend back in, but really. He’s not that distinctive looking, and he was a hundred miles from his last op. It shouldn’t have mattered.

None of this is a comfort as henchperson number 4 cracks a knuckle on his cheekbone.

—

There are nicer places to spend his holiday than a dirty, cramped basement, but need must. (Well. Not needs. Circumstance.) Best as Joe can tell, as much as twelve hours have passed since he was taken. He’s missed mandatory check in, so at least someone will know something is wrong by now (if they don’t think he’s just slept through it. Again.). He knows he just has to sit-tight and wait, and someone will be along to extract him, but that’s easier said than done when his body is more bruise than skin and alarming mutterings about pliers and drills were had within his earshot.

They haven’t offered him food or water, and the zip-ties holding his arms and legs to the chair are industrial strength. Bad signs all around and not a hope to be had, but he keeps as optimistic a mien as he can. What’s a little pain really, in the long run?

(A little pain can be a lot in the long run, and the throb of his knee is worrying him, but he doesn’t have the strength to spare for it at the moment.)

—

The door has two locks, the second of which sticks every single time. It gives Joe an extra second to prepare himself, breathing deep and even, before he bares his teeth at whomever enters and ignores the way his lip splits again with the motion. Blood on his teeth can only help his look really, and he needs any kind of edge he can get.

Hulking henchperson number 2 this time it seems, power drill in hand. Joe flexes his fingers to feel his wrists strain against the zip-ties, and prays for fortitude.

He prays harder when HH2 revs the drill and he sees the bit spin. It’s serrated. His face is stony, but he can feel fear pool thick and viscous in his chest.

Like the breaking of rain after a drought, the pop-pop-pop of semi-automatic gunfire in the distance brings relief like Joe’s never known singing through his bones.

—

He counts the seconds. There's nothing else to do really. He twists and pulls at his restraints and ignores the slow slide of blood down his hands and breathes through the ache.

It takes six minutes for the door to shudder as someone tries to force it open. It takes an additional minute for them to come back with the key.

Joe works with numerous incredibly talented people. There's only a handful that could make it to him in that short a timeframe. Less still that could do it alone. He's narrowed his options down to three names by the time the door actually opens.

Nicky di Genova wasn't on his list, but he can't say he isn't happy to see him.

As far as he knew, Nicky was overseas on an op, and wasn't due back for at least another month. He should be embarrassed, really, that someone with so much disdain for him is seeing him in such a state, but relief is sweet and heavy in his throat, and he can't help the slump of his shoulders at the sight of his wide eyes in the gloom.

'Welcome back,' he says, flippant as he can manage. If it's weak, Nicky pretends not to notice. 'Now, fucking help me out of these, would you kindly?'

He’s never been on the receiving end of so much of Nicky’s focussed attention before. He finds he doesn’t dislike it. Nicky gives him one firm nod and crosses the room in three long strides, flicking a butterfly knife from his pocket as he moves. He cuts Joe’s restraints with a surprisingly gentle touch, sliding his fingers between the hard plastic and his broken skin to keep them from cutting him further, and he helps Joe pull his hands forward against the resistance of his bruises and stiff muscles.

He pretends not to see the way Joe’s hands shake, and it’s a kindness Joe doesn’t know what to do with.

‘Can you walk?’ Nicky’s voice is quiet and clear, and the way his eyes flick to the abandoned power drill by the door is unmistakable.

‘Not completely.’ The throb in his knee has long since coalesced into an ache, and Joe knows it won’t take much for it to buckle beneath him, for all he was spared the drill’s tender mercies. Nicky nods again, and helps him stand without further comment.

Joe is far from new to all of this. This isn’t even the worst he’s ever been tortured. Somehow though, he doesn’t think he’ll be shaking this one off any time soon. He thinks back to how he had admired Nicky’s shoulders in his suit jacket all those weeks ago, and wants to tell his past self that they’re even nicer as a scaffold under his arm, holding him up as surely as the arm he curls around his waist. Nicky takes his weight with every step, and leads him from the room.

Nicky wreaked an impressive degree of havoc in six minutes. Every corner they turn is spattered with blood. Bodies litter the floors; bullet casings are scattered like the bleakest confetti imaginable, but aside from a scrape on Joe can just about see on his wrist, there’s not a spot of damage on him.

(If Joe “trips” over the body of HH2 with a particularly wet thud, that’s nobody’s business but his. Nicky says nothing, even as he takes more of Joe’s weight for the seconds it takes him to lift his less-damaged leg higher.)

They come to a flight of stairs, the door at the top torn half off its hinges, and Joe can’t take the silence anymore.

‘I thought you were in Sicily?’ He can hear the wheeze in his own voice, and hopes the pain in his side is just a cracked rib and not a punctured lung waiting to happen.

‘Plans changed. I was needed here.’

Nicky’s voice is soft as he painstakingly helps Joe up the stairs. It takes longer than Joe really wants to think about, and he has to blink away sparks and black spots by the time they finally reach the top.

‘Did you finish your mission?’ He doesn’t even know why he’s asking, he knows if Nicky says anything remotely complicated he’s going to lose the thread of the conversation immediately.

Almost as though he could read Joe’s mind, Nicky pauses, adjusting his grip on Joe’s waist.

‘Something more important came up. Someone else can take my place there.’

Joe looks at him from the corner of his eye. His face is pale and resolute, and he looks back at Joe with clear, unblinking eyes.

Well. That’s certainly something. Joe nods, slowly, and tries to smile. It pulls at his lip, and he can feel blood slide into his beard again. Nicky cups his chin with his broad hand and lifts his face to the light. Whatever he sees, his eyes go darker than Joe has ever seen, and he has to look away. It takes a beat for Nicky to let him go, and Joe tells himself he doesn’t miss the warmth of his hand.

Time starts to fracture the further away they get from the basement. It’s sunny when they step outside, and the wind is cold. From the looks of it, they’re in an office park. His captors must have been relying on the weekend quiet to keep their secrets, it doesn’t look particularly rundown or abandoned. Whatever they had planned, it wasn’t going to last long.

Nicky pours him into the front seat of a car, and when Joe blinks next he’s got a seatbelt clipped across his chest and Nicky’s next to him in the driver’s seat. A rosary hangs from the rearview mirror. It doesn’t look like a company car, but Joe’s eyes are slipping in and out of focus, and he can’t pick out enough details to say for sure.

He thinks he feels a hand brush his hair away from his forehead before the weight of everything catches up with him completely, but that might just be wishful thinking.

He doesn’t think about the last time he saw Nicky. Not about the fountain, or the moonlight, or his kiss.

He doesn’t.

#do i have a plan for this verse?#not really #BUT #as we all know #it's about the journey #not the destination #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #the old guard #immortal husbands #kaysanova #tog

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sweeethinny · 4 years ago

Text

Home (M)

Summary: Home is anywhere you are

AN: I just finished a story that I've been trying to finish for over two months

it's been a long time since the last time I wrote Smut, and I was very embarrassed to post it, but today I translated and edited it, and here it is :) no plot, just fluff and smut

AO3 or read bellow the cut

-----------

Harry was exhausted. He couldn't take any more training, listening to any complaints from Robards, let alone having to deal with co-workers.

When he joined the Aurors, no one said that everything would be so full of paperwork and bureaucracy to sort out, and that there would always be someone to test how far you went without freaking out. Harry felt almost cheated.

Sometimes, fighting Voldemort was less stressful than having to deal with the Auror Department bureaucracy that seemed to go on and on.

He thought all day about the time he was going to go home, from the moment he had to leave the bed warm and comfortable next to Ginny who slept what seemed like the best sleep of life. He thought about going home when Robards yelled at him, when he had to read ten pages of a Law just to come to the conclusion that the document was wrong, thought when he missed lunch and had to make do with pumpkin juice that Hermione had forgotten in his office, and thought about leaving when he received a letter from Ginny informing him that she would be arriving a little later.

He could plan something romantic for them, he could have made that fish stuffed with farofa that she likes so much, bought her favorite wine ... But no. Harry was stuck in the same office where Robards and Theo decided to fight and take out the anger on all the younger ones.

Harry snorted impatiently in the waiting line at Flu, completely ignoring politeness and ignoring anyone who wanted to talk to him, just wanting to get to his home, where there would be no angry boss, exhausting training and paperwork. Where there would be his girlfriend, silence and his bed for the next 3 days.

Training today hadn't even been the worst part, if it was true. Of course, Theo made them sweat a lot more than usual, and Harry even thought he would end up dying in the middle, but it was better to keep quiet and feel the pain in the muscles later than to complain and need to listen to Theo talking for hours and hours on how to train was important.

Harry just wanted to go home.

Ginny was so beautiful sleeping in his T-shirt, her hair all messed up and her cheeks red, mumbling a few words when he kissed her and said goodbye to go to work. He felt stuck with that image all day, meditating that he would have 2 days of it on the weekend, waking up next to his girlfriend and wasting hours just lying with her, completely ignoring the outside world, without caring about responsibilities or with eating. Harry would live happily with just Ginny in his arms, and that was what made him sane.

At the end of the day she would be there, with him, making him laugh at some thing that happened in the Harpy's locker rooms, and commenting on how much better he looks with his beard.

Harry hoped that Ginny didn't want to do something that involved leaving the house, honestly, Harry barely wanted to have to wear pants this weekend, let alone see other people. But as far as he knew the woman he lived with, Ginny was just as exhausted as he was, and was probably lying to keep them from going to some fancy and boring party, or some meeting of colleagues at the bar.

When he was finally able to use the Flu, Harry heard his name being called from afar by the Minister of Sport, accompanied by something that sounded like ''Mr Potter, we have great news.'' which made him hurry even further to travel to home security, because nothing would be good news from the guy who was in the Aurors' office all day complaining about drug use in the locker rooms - even after they went over three times the "clues" that Joe insisted he had.

The man more than quickly entered the Flu, throwing the dust and going to home right after, seeing nothing more than a blur of Joe and his frog face, falling safely in his own fireplace, seeing the decoration of the apartment that he and Ginny had chosen together.

‘Home sweet home.’ He said to himself, wiping the soot from his shoulders and taking off his cloak and shoes, ready to take a bath and prepare to make dinner. Harry knew that Ginny would still be late, the clock still indicated that she was at work, which gave him some time to think of some food that would be quick and easy.

But just from being at home, Harry was already happier.

Going up the stairs wearing only his underwear - he levitated the filthy clothes for the laundry - he started to prepare the bath.

He started doing that for Ginny, after training and with pain in her arms, he always prepared a good bath for her and gave her a massage, but then, he started to feel a lot of pain and tiredness, and started to benefit from the various salts and soaps that they contained. It was always very relaxing to lie there in the hot water covered by the bubbles and the feeling of peace that reached him, relaxing even the most tense of muscles.

The bathtub was not always used to relax, now and then Ginny and he would warm the weather there, intertwined, after drinking a little wine and talking a little about each other's day. Ginny would climb onto Harry's lap and kiss him until none had more breath, kissing him provocatively as he squeezed her waist, ass and breasts, traveling his hand to all her curves, delighting in the strong body she came from acquiring on account of training.

When his tired foot touched the warm water, Harry almost groaned in satisfaction, entering the water even before the bath was completely filled, the salts all mixed together to form bubbles and scent the bathroom. His shoulder blades hurt, as did his biceps, triceps and abdomen, thinking how much repetition they had to do in strength and endurance training, and how his palms had become callused from hanging on the iron bar

Ginny always said that she loved watching Harry train. They trained together a few mornings at the gym on the corner where they lived, and every time Harry lifted weights, Ginny stopped doing whatever she was doing to watch him for a few minutes - and he always tried hard to look attractive, even though he was feeling like he was going to die.

He also loved watching her train. Ginny was almost as strong as Harry, and watching her lift weights and do squats was one of his pleasures, always ready to help her straighten her spine and get a privileged view of her ass.

‘You are a bastard,’ she would say, as they walked back to their home. ‘I saw how you looked at me.’

‘Ginny, of course I looked.’ Harry would respond, sweating like never before, wanting to miss work just to enjoy his free time with his girlfriend. ‘Seeing you lifting weights is the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.’

‘One day I’ll end up getting stronger than you, if you just keep looking at me and don’t train as you should.’ She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, opening the front door of the apartment and taking off the hood of the sweatshirt she wore.

‘And I’ll come in my pants.’ He would slap her ass and smile, ready for a shower and a quickie with her, before he had to face the paperwork that was waiting for him at work.

The Harry of now, immersed up to his neck in the bathtub with hot, fragrant water, sighed, smiling at the memories, thinking how it was possible for someone to love as much as someone as he loved Ginny. He just wanted her to get home soon so they could get lost in the hours and rest together.

Thinking about it, Harry also remembered the diamond ring he saw at the jewelry store near the Ministry, shining in the window as if it were the most expensive jewel - it wasn't, but the most expensive was too ugly - and making him wonder how it would fit perfectly on Ginny's long, thin fingers. Was it the right time to do it? And did it have the right time for that? Harry didn't know, but he thought that if there was, they might be close.

[...]

'Starting without me?' A voice woke him from the sleep that was already taking him, making him open his eyes and see a smiling Ginny with her arms crossed leaning on the door, barefoot, with the tank top she used to train in and her shorts black, looking, as always, beautiful. ‘I thought you were going to wait for me.’ She said, starting to undress.

‘I thought it would take longer.’ Harry splashed water on his face, trying to wake up and go back to Earth, not even remembering how he managed to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. 'Hi.'

‘Hello.’ Ginny smiled, stepping into the bathtub and already going to his lap, laying her warm and slightly sweaty body on top of Harry’s, who was much more rested than he was minutes ago. ‘It took me a while, but I think you dozed off while you waited for me.’

‘Sorry, it was a rough day.’ He wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping them close enough for him to feel every bit of her, looking into the brown eyes he liked so much, feeling a lot more awake now. 'I missed you.'

'Me too,' Ginny kissed him, seeming to taste him as if it were one of the lollipops she usually kept in her mouth, playing with his tongue and making a point of brushing her naked body with Harry's, which was beginning to show signs. ‘I thought all day about what we were going to do for our weekend’’ She rocked her hips on top of his, delightfully making him feel her on his dick.

'What was the conclusion?' Harry grabbed her hair with his free hand and pulled back, forcing Ginny to let go of his mouth and let him stroll around her delicious neck, traveling through that sea of freckles and reddish skin that made Harry delirious. The smell, the softness, her reaction, everything was the meaning of perfection in his eyes.

The sound of her moaning as she leaned back, raising her pink breasts from the hot water and brushing their pelvis even closer together, made Harry squeeze his hand on her hip and bend his toes to avoid lifting his hip and succumb to her teasing.

‘I thought we would enjoy it a little, after so many days that we barely managed to spend more than ten minutes together.’ Her red nails marked the skin on Harry's shoulder when he kissed that exact spot that Ginny liked, just below the ear, smiling when he heard her almost purring on his lap, moving her hips back and forth without even seeming to feel.

Harry needed a lot of strength to keep his stil, knowing that he would not be able to resist much temptation after he felt her fully under his member.

‘It really has been a bad day.’ He released his hand from her soft hair, feeling her shiver where he was passing, reaching his hand to her breasts and lowering his mouth to one of them, feeling drunk by the perfume that Ginny exhaled. Harry would never know how to punctuate the exact smell, but it was a mixture of flowers, something sweet and Ginny, which didn't make much sense, but it was what Harry felt. That had been the smell of his Amortentia for years now.

Her thighs tensed next to Harry's hip when he started kissing her nipples, and it seemed like it wasn't that important anymore to talk about the weekend's plans or how they hadn't had much time, not when Ginny she started pulling his hair and arching under him as she always did when she started to get excited.

Using all his willpower, Harry let go of her breasts and pinned her even more in his lap, groaning at the sensation of being completely touching, then rising from the bathtub. Ginny's scream of fright made him laugh, her arms wrapping around his neck to keep her balance and her beautiful brown eyes even darker, staring at him.

‘Someone trained well today.’ She smiled, not even caring about the trail of water left behind, the pink body of the hot water getting goosebumps with the temperature, and Harry almost dropped them when he saw her nipples reacting too.

‘Theo made us sweat today.’

‘Now I understand why the bathtub.’ Harry nodded, taking the wand just enough to dry them superficially before dropping that tantalizingly beautiful redhead in the middle of their bed.

It was like facing one of those works of art about Aphrodite that they had seen in the Muggle Museum they visited; the red hair, the dark eyes shining with excitement, the naughty smile he loved so much, that sculptural body that literally put Harry on his knees on the floor, all naked on the bed. But Aphrodite wouldn't be able to be as beautiful as Ginny was.

At that moment, Harry thought it was a good time to propose.

He did not imagine himself seeing anyone there but her, he did not imagine himself waking up or going to sleep with someone else, and besides, he did not want anyone else. It was she, and only she, that Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Seeing her wear white, imagining their children in the future, thinking about what their house would be like, family vacations, everything... It had always been, and always would be, with her.

‘Never seen a naked woman before, Potter?’ She joked, poking him in the waist with her foot, looking even more tempting that way. The silky leg stretched out and invited him to come even closer.

‘All I thought about today was you naked.’ He smiled, grabbing her foot and bending down to kiss all the way he reached; her foot, her ankle, her calf, everything he was capable of kissing, Harry kissed, numb with pleasure. ‘I couldn’t help thinking about coming home just to see you.’

'This is very romantic.' Ginny pulled him so that he lay on her, then immediately turned them over and stood on top, in one of the positions that the two liked the most. ‘I really like when you’re romantic.’ She ran a hand through her red hair and naturally, pinned it in a bun, her eyes dark with pleasure. ‘I also thought about you during the day.’

'Yes? What was I doing in your thoughts?' His hands almost automatically went to her hips, trying hard to keep his eyes on hers, but the middle of her legs was getting closer and closer and Harry didn't have much control over himself in those moments.

‘Oh, a lot, we would waste a lot of time just for me to list everything, and we don't want that, right?’ Ginny would come closer and he could do what he loved to do so much. ‘My eyes are up here.’

��I know,’ Harry shifted on the bed, a little uncomfortable with the erection that hurt between his legs. ‘Let me make some of your fantasies come true, then.’ He squeezed his hands again on her hips, pulling her into his face, ready to take on that position he liked so much. Fortunately, Ginny was willing.

Harry was happy that he had been doing it for some time to know exactly how to do it and how to make her squirm in that specific way, which he always thought he was away from her for a few days.

It was almost like a drug, he felt a little sick when he or Ginny traveled and needed to stay away from each other, because it was always something that left him looking forward to having her in his arms again. Not only sexually, Harry obviously also missed the simple moments, like lying on the couch and talking to her while they drink good wine, or watching a muggle movie, knowing that she will sleep in less than half an hour, hugging him like a sloth on the tree trunk.

Harry loved her with all his heart.

The first moan filled him with joy, needing to use his free hand to try to relieve the pressure he already felt, dedicating himself to getting her lost in emotions, as Ginny always did with him.

All the stress of the day felt like nothing now, nothing being more important than Ginny's pussy on his face, her thick, strong thighs squeezing him in place and almost suffocating him. It would be a delightful death.

Her hands, so delicate and small, tugged at his hair as if trying to break his head in two, moaning louder and louder and moving her hips almost automatically, seeming to lose her balance as she trembled.

It was a real paradise, he could do that for hours, it was almost as good as when she was kneeling in front of him. Almost. But still, seeing her on her knees would always make him shiver.

Harry increased the pressure of his thumb on her clitoris, knowing that Ginny didn't seem to be able to hold on much longer, straddling his face as if it were going to make her live, and it was he who almost came when he opened his eyes and saw her. Head to the sky, hands resting on his chest, while she moved her hips furiously and arrived in that state where she was quite noisy, almost worrying him that maybe the neighbors would complain. As they did a few months ago.

It didn't take long for him to hear his name coming out as a plea, her face falling and looking him in the eye as she came, mouth open but no noise coming out, looking like a Goddess, a little disheveled and sweaty. It was one of the most beautiful views of all time.

‘Fuck.’ She fell on the bed next to him, her head close to his thigh, her eyes closed and her legs stretched out. ‘You’re good at this, Potter.’

‘I’ve improved my technique.’ Harry smiled, wiping the traces of her arousal from his chin, a little lost too, it was always hard not to come along with Ginny at those times. ‘Was that what you were thinking during the day?’

‘Don’t touch me!�� Ginny patted his hand when Harry tried to caress her leg, with no ulterior motives, just because he liked the softness. ‘And yes, that was it, but you always outdo yourself.’

‘Thanks, I try.’

‘Great, I don’t mind being used as an experiment.’ She sighed, her freckled, red chest rising and falling, her breasts still pointing upwards gloriously. 'You said you had a hard day...' Ginny opened her eyes, her delicate hand resting on Harry's thigh, dangerously close to his dick.

‘I did, and all I could do was think about you.’

‘Have I said I love it when you’re romantic?’ She blushed, smiling lovingly and winking at him, which made Harry laugh and feel at peace, nodding.

'You say every now and then.' He kept his hands away from her body, even though Ginny's fingers drummed on the inside of his thigh and almost made him sweat with desire. Merlin, all he wanted to do was come, it was almost stressful and painful.

‘You didn’t specify your thoughts for me.’ Like a sly cat she was, Ginny moved, returning to his lap, but this time, sitting on his thighs.

'You know, the same old thing, you and me naked and a creaking bed, nothing much--' Harry swallowed the words, closing his eyes and arching against the bed, feeling in the clouds when her hand came around his penis.

It was a delicious sensation, her palm warm and soft, rising and falling slowly as if she wanted to kill him, while the other massaged his balls in the way that Ginny knew was driving him crazy.

Harry didn't even have to look to know what was coming next, but he wanted to have the privileged vision of seeing her putting him inside her mouth. And the redhead seemed to guess, smirking and winking as she moved to slide down his legs, making Harry move to sit more on the edge of the bed, almost coming when he saw her kneeling, as in the various erotic dreams he had when he was a teenager, but much better.

‘I’ll take care of you, babe,’ Ginny whispered, hands surrounding him and then putting him inside her mouth, causing him to fall from heaven to hell.

There were no words to describe the sensations he felt, losing strength in his forearms and falling on the bed, one hand gripping the sheet tightly while the other was on Ginny's head, which went up and down at a tortuous speed. The feel of her cheeks and tongue around him, the low moans she made, the moans he made, were all Harry needed.

The tension in his body was no longer because he needed to worry about paperwork, training, or reporters who were invasive, the tension now was because Harry was holding himself back from coming like a teenager who never got a blowjob, feeling the sweat settling on the base of the spine, Ginny's speed gradually increasing and how much she swallowed from him too. Harry was ready to die.

If the sight of her coming was beautiful, he didn't even know what to feel when he saw her with her eyes closed, concentrated, her cheeks drawn in while his cock disappeared and appeared inside her delicate mouth.

‘If you want to continue with this,’ He said, after a lot of effort. ‘Stop now before I ruin our night.’ Ginny opened her eyes, smiling as she could, slowly taking his dick out of her mouth, seeming to admire how much it affected him.

‘Are you so needy?’ Her brown eyes mesmerized him, as well as her fingers wiping the corners of her pink mouth.

'You have no idea'

[...]

'Would you marry me?' Harry asked, lying face down on the bed, tired, still a little damp from the bath they had taken, feeling his muscles relaxed on top of the soft mattress.

'Is it a propose?' Ginny smiled, also looking tired, her eyes almost closing, but still trying to stay awake.

'No, just a question.' He said. 'I never asked you if you wanted to get married.'

'Of course I want.' Ginny approached, wrapping an arm around Harry's back and sticking them together as she could, noses almost touching, and her floral scent filled his nostrils like a drug, cradling him even more to sleep, making him feel at peace.

'With me?' Harry asked just to hear her laugh, which worked, her smile flashed on her face.

'Who else would it be with?' They stared at each other, it was almost a total gloom if it weren't for the side of the curtain that let in a yellow street light, illuminating one side of Gin's face and the wall beside the bed. Harry could see her brown eyes sparkle, her red eyebrows rising, and her lips curl in that mischievous smile that she always gave when she was trying to keep from laughing.

'You have a long line of admirers.' Harry shrugged, raising his hand to undo her bun and stroke the red hair.

'You also have a long line,' she said, but she didn't look jealous, just amused.

'But it's you I want to marry,' said Harry, kissing her nose, smiling like a fool.

'Great, because you are my chosen one.' Ginny gave him a quick peck, the smile still on her face. 'And only mine.'

'Only yours.' He nodded, closing his eyes, feeling at peace.

'Not that I had any doubts, I mean, you grabbed me in the middle of a room with 50 people, and you don't even like attention.' They both laughed, the memory making him feel a little more silly in love with her.

'It is your effect on me. I already said, for you I would declare myself in front of a crowd.’

'And I already told you not to do that.' Ginny kissed him again, this time, taking a little longer. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too.' He sighed, feeling at home with her in his arms.

#hinny #harry x ginny #this story has been stored for a long time #the ending is a little bad but i like it #ahahaha

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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago

Text

Something in the Rain - “Interruptions”

A/N: I hope you like it. As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations

XXXXX

“What should I wear tomorrow?” Claire texted Jamie on the eve of their first official date. She wanted to have an extra time to shop should the need there be.

“What do ye mean?” he replied.

“I want to dress appropriately to wherever you’re taking me, James Fraser.”

“I see. Smart casual would do. :) Sorry, I dinna thought of informing ye earlier but wouldn’t it be hilarious if you dressed to the nines and we’re going to some sort of cattle farm”

“Exactly.” Claire replied with the eye roll and laughing emoji. “Can I know where we’re going?”

“Don’t ye want to be surprised?” Jamie messaged back and saw three dots typing afterwards.

“Hmm, thinking about it, yes. I’m excited to see the Jamie Fraser Date Experience.”

“Hope it doesna disappoint. I, too, am excited to see the Claire Beauchamp Date Experience. ;)” he replied, knowing the use of emoji will make her smile as he rarely uses one.

“I hope it doesn’t disappoint, too.” she replied with a winky face too. “Are you back in Edinburgh?”

“Just about to arrive home. I might just wash and then hit the sack.”

“Rest then, Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sassenach. I’ll message ye tomorrow when I’m on my way”

----

It has been four weeks since their accidental meeting at the sidewalk. After countless run-ins, lunches, and an absurd amount of consumed soy chicken, the day of their date has arrived.

When Claire accepted his invitation three days earlier, Jamie went into a slight overdrive trying to plan what to do. He meant to ask her out when he got back - but when he found out that she met Laoghaire, something pushed him to go for it before Claire had any wrong idea about his connection with Mrs. Fitz's granddaughter.

His first idea was to go all out - book the fanciest rooftop restaurant in the city, get the best chef he knew, and plan a private dinner for them. Fancy and exclusive seemed like a safe choice and a sure hit.

Then he thought about Claire and all their interactions so far - hole in the wall kitchens, asian street food, very light and casual. Jamie pondered on the idea and realized that jumping from that to an uber private dinner might not be the best, so he kept that card to play for later.

It was then he decided to just take their casual lunch to a casual dinner. He’ll just exchange one-hour savory chicken meetings for a comfortable, popular city restaurant and longer conversations. He also decided on wearing more casual clothes, opting out of his office suits that she’d seen him often in for a navy turtleneck, khaki pants and white sneakers.

Arriving at her front door, Jamie took one last stock of himself, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness, and knocked on her door.

What he saw next knocked him out.

Claire opened the door wearing a burgundy sleeveless jumpsuit that was both modest and sexy, yet casual enough. Pairing the ensemble with black heels, the garment hugged Claire’s curves in just the right places that left Jamie staring for a hot minute.

“Hi” Claire broke through his thoughts and he remembered his manners.

“Hi, Claire. Wow, ye look beautiful”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. Going to stop traffic pairing blue on blue like that”

“Ye ready to go?”

“Yeah. Are we going to walk?” She asked as she locked the door to her place.

“Yes, I hope ye dinna mind. Ye live close by all the nice places to eat.”

“No, I don’t mind and also, very true.”

It was a short 10-minute walk before they arrived at Howie’s Restaurant.

“Howie’s. Interesting choice.” Claire commented as they walked to the hostess.

“We can go somewhere if ye dinna like it here.” Jamie offered.

“No, I actually quite like it here” she had to stifle a laugh at how adorable she found his tenseness was.

The hostess pointed them to the bar to wait for their table. Claire excused herself to the bathroom and Jamie ordered a light whisky for some liquid courage.

When the bartender served his drink, a familiar bloke sat beside him and greeted him.

“Jamie Fraser, hello!”

Jamie gulped the drink and turned to the man beside him. “Joe! It’s good to see ye, man!”

The two shook hands and exchanged more pleasantries.

“I’m actually meeting my wife.” He looked at his watch and then to the front door. “Oh, good, she just arrived!” Joe quickly waved her in and introduced her.

“Jamie Fraser, meet Gail Abernathy. Gail, Jamie.” he paused when Jamie extended a hand to her. “He was the guy who volunteered at our center two weeks ago. All the kids were just drawn to him.”

“No wonder.” Gail observed, her comment earning a jokey sigh from her husband. “So, Jamie, what brings you to this side of town on a Saturday evening?”

Jamie was about to share that he was on a date, but then right on cue, Claire arrives to greet the trio.

“Hello, everyone!”

“Claire!” Gail squealed as she gave her friend a tight hug.

“Lady Jane, you clean up good!” Joe remarked.

As they finished their greetings, Jamie quietly whispered to Claire to order any drink she’d like. The husband-and-wife duo caught on and couldn’t resist to pry.

“You guys on a date?” Joe asked frankly.

“First one, actually.” Jamie replied as Gail raised an eyebrow while Claire returned to his side, drink in tow.

Joe leaned closer to Jamie and pretended to whisper in his ear, “My date advice is don’t challenge her or don’t allow her to challenge you to a drinking game. You will lose”

Claire groaned while the rest laughed at her expense.

Just then, the hostess approached the pairs and told them their tables were ready. They exchanged their goodbyes and were led to their areas.

---

Jamie had been a perfect gentleman.

He opened her seat, allowed her to order and choose whatever she wanted from the menu (They both went to the steak and fries!), and is making just the right amount of banter.

Claire actually liked this dining choice - Howie’s comfort food really brought out the easy ambiance and conversation to their date. She didn’t mind going to a fancier place but she knew that if they were there, things would be too formal, delicate and shy. This was much better and she’d Jamie props for this.

Moreover, what made this official first date a little bit more fun is much of the first date awkwardness is gone. They’ve covered much of the basics about their life during their lunches - their families (both their parents are alive and have retired away from the city, Claire’s an only child while Jamie had an older sister), how they chose their careers and where they went to school (Jamie is Oxford Law while Claire is Cambridge Med, the school rivalry something they joke about), their current or main interests (horses for Jamie, herbs for Claire) and many other things.

So the evening was more or less less a continuation on what they’ve normally done - catching up on their days, sharing an interesting story at work or a photo they found on the web, asking more random questions - the only difference now is, there’s a more clear and intentional purpose for knowing these things and whole lot of shameless flirting in between.

Forty-five minutes in and halfway through their steak, a man approached their table. “Dr. Beauchamp, it’s nice to see you here!”

Jamie and Claire looked up and saw a slender man, not much older than they are with grey eyes.

“Tom, hi!” Claire swallowed a fry and grabbed a cloth to clean her mouth.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening but I saw you from the bar and just had to pass by and greet you. I mean at least, this time, not at the hospital or during check ups”

Claire smiled and made the introductions. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tom Christie, this is Jamie Fraser. Jamie, Tom. He is a teacher at the public elementary school. We met when I did the annual medical checkup for the kids. Also, I’m the peds of his kids, Allan and Malva.”

The mention of the word kids made Jamie release the tight fist he didn’t know he held beneath the table. He didna like the way the man eyed Claire but it was not his place - not yet at least.

Jamie gave the man a nod but ultimately wished he’d go. When neither said or did anything, Tom said his farewells and confirmed his kids check-up schedule in two weeks.

---

They decided to share a slice of chocolate cake and one last glass of wine each to cap off their dinner.

As they waited for their order to arrive, they got startled with a loud noise.

“Jamie, is that ye?!” one man said.

“Oh, heavens, tis!” another man replied.

Jamie could not hide the embarrassment he felt as the two blokes approached their table. Once they noticed Claire, they did not waste time introducing themselves.

“Hello, I havena seen ye before. My name is Angus” the thin, beardly man extended his hand. “And ye are?”

“Hi, I’m Claire.” she reached out but eyeing Jamie for confirmation that he knew these people.

“I’m Rupert.” the other man said. “We’re Jamie’s cousins”

“Distant cousins” Jamie retorted back. “What brings ye here?” he asked while glaring at them to leave.

“We have a double date” Angus shared, pointing to the table where two ladies were indeed waiting for them.

“Then I suggest you return to your dates then.” Jamie replied then proceeded to converse with the two men in Gaelic.

When the conversation was apparently over, Rupert sighed and turned to Claire. “It was nice meeting ye, lass. Please ask Jamie here to bring around one of our office events and meet the rest of the clan. I’m sure they’d love to get to know ye as well.”

Jamie stood up quickly and had to push the two back to their table before they said anything else that may ruin the evening.

“I’m sorry about them, Claire. They are quite the more, erm, rowdy members of my family.” he said as he sat down again.

“It’s alright. They seem really nice” Claire said, smiling. “So, clan huh? Just how big is that family of yours really?” She brought the conversation back up again hoping it would ease his discomfort.

Jamie visibly relaxed and then, they were back in their bubble, “How many generations back?”

---

Desert went by swimmingly with the chocolate cake and red wine proving to be a winning combo. After an almost three-hour dinner, Jamie asked for the check and insisted on paying for the meal.

They were one their way out of the restaurant then Claire was greeted by incoming guests.

“Dr. Beauchamp!”

Claire turned to look who called her. “Oh, please call me Claire. It’s nice seeing you here”

“Likewise. Please call me Meredith.” she quickly signaled to the man beside her. “This is my husband, Derek.”

“Of course, Dr. Shepherd.” Claire politely acknowledged him with the man insisting to be called casually as well.

“Anyway, I’d just like to say that I just read your latest paper in the Journal of Pediatrics. I look forward to hearing all about it in your visit to Seattle.”

Claire graciously accepted the complement with a smile and bow. “Thank you. We’ll catch up in Seattle in a few weeks, then.” Remembering her companion, she turned to her back where Jamie was patiently waiting for her. “Oh my, where are my manners. Meredith, Derek, this is Jamie Fraser. Jamie, this is Meredith and Derek Shepherd. They’re visiting doctors from Grey Sloan Memorial in Seattle.”

Jamie returned the pleasantries and shook hands with the doctors.

“Alright, I’ll let you guys go on with your evening. Sorry for the sudden call out” Meredith said.

“It’s no problem at all. A good night to you both as well.” Claire replied as she looked at Jamie and motioned for them to head out.

Once they we're out of the restaurant, Jamie lets out a light laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I was just thinking that I’d never unexpectedly run into that many acquaintances in one evening, let alone in a date!” he shared, chuckling more as the thought further sank in his mind and Claire joined him in his mood. “It isna exactly part of the Jamie Fraser Date Experience”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be, there’s nothing to apologize for. I mean, who would’ve thought, right?” Jamie retorted, his humor infectious.

She was touched by his honesty, not just with the situation but the entire night. He was caring, makes great conversation, and is always authentic with who and how he carries himself. She cannot make a full judgement of his character yet, as that is something she is still getting to know, but she likes what she is seeing so far.

Taking a bold step, she wrapped her arm around his as they started walking side by side back to her place.

Jamie looked at her hand, smiled and hoped it conveyed to Claire the joy he felt at the moment. “Is this part of the Claire Beauchamp Date Experience?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Only to a rare few” she said as she slightly tugged him closer.

The walk back seemed shorter than the one they did earlier. Before they knew it, they were already standing in front of Claire’s building.

“Oh, before I forget!” Jamie exclaimed as he fished out his car keys and a grey miata lit up open beside them. He pulled out an exquisite posey bouquet of red roses and handed it to her. “These are for you.”

Claire took them and smelt it, “The flowers are beautiful”

“I hope ye had a good time, Sassenach”

“I had a great time, Jamie. Thank you”

After a beat, Jamie took a deep breath, gathering strength to what he was about to say next. “Claire, we’ve known each other for about a month now, became unexpected friends in a short amount of time, had our lunches and now, our first date. I hope ye dinna think this is too forward of me but...I like you and I would like to see you again or keep seeing you, I guess.“ They we’re holding each other’s gazes as he laid out his intentions and waited for her reply.

Claire sighed and was just amazed by him. Her previous encounters are usually with male friends who constantly hang out with her then a few months down, asks her “what they are” as if she had to know or feel that something was happening from the get go. So, Jamie's forthrightness and old-fashionedness was truly refreshing and she was more than willing to give it a go.

As a final check to their chemistry, she stepped closer, tilted her head and leaned in to him. Quickly responding to her actions, he held her face on one hand and placed the other on her hips to pull her closer. He followed her lead until their lips crashed into each other in a single deep kiss.

In that moment, both Jamie and Claire knew something big shifted in the dynamic of their relationship.

This was not usual.

This is different.

And oh so good.

They felt each other smile against their lips just as they pulled apart for air.

“I like you too, Jamie and yes”

A/N: Maybe not the first date you might've thought of but hope you liked it! As always, thank you for reading! Your comments, suggestions, and questions are always welcome. If there's a story or scene you'd like to know, feel free to drop it! :)This was my original idea for the date but as I was writing it, I was going back and forth about scraping the entire thing and think about something else. But the original thought kept developing in my mind so I went back and stuck with it and cross-fingers, hoped it worked and made sense. I knew she had doctor friends but adding the Greys Anatomy characters just came about since I've been binging the show and thought it'd be fun to crossover. Hope you're keeping safe and in line to get vaccinated for the COVID-19 shot! See you all in the next one!

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goldenmazzello · 4 years ago

Text

Never should have let you go.

Warning: Full of angst, swearing?, and more angst.

Word count: 2.5k

As the door opened, the loudest of noises Joe could hear was silence. The sound of silence wasn't the lack of noise but the lack of your pressence. It was an unnerving silence, a constant companion of his thoughts. His thoughts were destroying him. He tried not to think but the silence was a killer.

His head was spinning on the memories the two of you had. The day you met, the day you kissed for the first time, the day you moved together and of course, the day you left. All the things he took for granted now became moments gone, forever wasted. He had to accept the damaged was done and it was obvious that you could never go back to the way it used to be. At least not now.

Even though that you were gone for weeks, coming home to an empty room was just as hard as the first day. The days feet like years now that he was alone. He felt that another day without you was like a blade cutting right through him. Joe hasn't been the same since you've been gone. Everytime he came back home from work he hoped everything was just a bad dream and that he would wake up and see your face again. He remembered those times in which you waited for him with his favorite supper. Or when you picked him up at the airport. Those little details meant the world to him.

You were always there with a big bright smile, you were like a shining light that made him forget all of his problems. You were there to guide him on his darkest days. You were always there and he took it for granted. And now you were gone.

At night, after a long day at work, Joe lay in bed thinking about you and would burst into tears. The bed was made up on your side, as if you were about to enter the room.

The thing he missed the most was waking up next to you and looking into your eyes, those beautiful eyes he loved and he would give everything he had in the world to see them again. After all these wasted nights he couldn't pretend he was doing fine because that feeling was getting stronger everyday. He just couldn't take it anymore. He wondered if you thought about him when you couldn't fall asleep just like he did. You were always on his mind.

He has played your words back in his head a thousand times. I'm leaving. And there wasn't anything else that he could do. He felt helpless. He had to face the fact that he couldn't walk away from this, but it was hard when every little thing in the world reminded him of you.

Life was far different when you both decided it was time to live together. And things seemed to get better and better. You got a job promotion and as soon as he directed his first movie, Joe had an amazing opportinity that was life changing: another promising movie. But of course for every plus there is a minus, Joe was going to be away from you for a long time since he had to work in London. It was a challenge you had to face.

And that wasn't an easy time. You didn't tell him because you didn't want to worry him while he was working, but you couldn't stop crying. You would come back from work and cry because you missed him so much, but you knew it was going to happen, you knew it from the very beginning. And you were willing to tolerate it, he was the love of your life.

You tried to visit Joe once a month and he tried flying home during vacation. But in one of the most special days, Joe wasn't there. You spent your birthday alone and even though you told him it was okay, it really wasn't. You really wished he was there, but he was away. It was his job and you understood.

When Joe came back after being in London for six months, it felt like time didn't pass. He was back and all yours. You felt on cloud nine. After a few months, Bohemian Rhapsody was released and you were Joe's date for the premiere. And then, press tour began and everything started to feel like a mess. Joe had to fly around the world and wasn't going to spend much time at home.

Award season arrived and he had to fly from New York to Los Angeles, from Los Angeles to London and again, you were alone at home. You wished you could go with him but it was impossible, you weren't famous like him and after all, it was his job, again.

And there wasn’t anything wrong about it, since day one you knew his life was like this and you accepted. The problem was that Joe was absolutely focused on his job and started to care less about you. The small notes with "I love you" or even his messages during breakfast or at night became scarce, almost non-existent. He didn't have time to FaceTime like he did before. He didn't even ask you to pick him up at the airport anymore. Everything was different now.

You could sense your relationship was falling apart but you didn’t want to give up on it. Just because you were in hot water it didn't necessarily mean you needed to throw in the towel, at least not now.

You decided to talk to Joe about this. This was making you feel totally miserable and you really wanted to fix it. After all, communication is the key in every relationship.

At first, he said he was sorry about it and he felt absolutely terrible for hurting you. He promised he was going to change and he said he was going to spend more time with you like before. You were in this together. And you felt relieved, as if you took a great weight off your shoulders. You really loved Joe and you would do everything in the world for him.

As weeks passed by, you felt you were trying to fix your relationship all by yourself. Lack of daily communication with him was something you were getting used to. Movie nights, dinner dates or even intimate moments were all distant memories. There were much less moments of cuddling, sweet kisses, hand holding, and walking arm-in-arm, they all had been replaced by distance. You thought it was maybe a temporary reaction to stress, but it's been going on for some time now. It was getting worse. Even the words "sweetheart,” “honey,” and “love" were gone. And your self-esteem was already affected. You felt heartbroken and hurt every day.

It was time.

It was time to leave.

You had an escape plan in your head for months. Your subconscious was sending you strong messages that it was time to get out. You tried not to think about it but every day you considered putting your plan into action. And the day finally came.

You got up in the morning and started packing your belongings. As you were taking your things out of your wardrobe, you felt a shiver down your spine. It felt odd, but you couldn't take it anymore. It was absolutely painful.

Three hours passed and Joe entered home. He let the door fall to with a thud that made you jump. You gulped and closed your eyes as you heard his steps were becoming closer. When Joe finally set foot in your shared room, his eyes were as big as plates. His face expression changed.

"W-What are you doing?" He was shoocked.

You grabbed your things quickly and got out of the room and he followed you. "I'm leaving, I can't put up with your fucking job anymore." You said as you tried to walk downstairs with your heavy suitcase. You had decided to leave since it was Joe's house and there was no way you would stay.

"Please, I'm begging you." Joe grabbed your hands while crying. Your words cut deeper than a knife.

"Joe, I'm being serious, don't make it even harder." You told him with a broken voice while trying to walk.

"You don't have to leave, th-th-this is your house too." He put himself in your way.

"This is your house, you paid for it with your work. Now please, move." You tried to move him but you couldn't since he was taller and bigger than you. "I'm gonna fall and get hurt, move!" At this point, you were already annoyed.

"No, I'm gonna protect you. You aren't gonna get hurt." He said while resting his hands on your waist.

You rolled your eyes. "Guess what? I'm already hurt and it's because of you! I tried to get things better but it seems you don't want to. I feel we've been living as roomates!" You left out a frustrated sigh. He moved his gaze to the floor.

"I promise I'll do my best this time. Let's go on a road trip." He suggested, trying to smile.

"There is not going to be any road trip or whatever. I'm leaving and there is nothing you can do about it. I feel like we're as close as strangers, you don't care about me anymore!" You screamed those words to Joe.

He didn't say anything but cried. He knew it was his fault. "Please, think about it. Don't take spur-of-the-moment decisions."

"It isn't a spur-of-the-moment decision, I've been thinking about it for months."

You don't know why, but he finally moved and helped you with your suitcase. "Where are you going?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"It's none of your business." You looked for your coat, took out your keys and opened the door. "Here you have." You gave him the keys and got out of the house.

Joe couldn't stop the tears running down his face. "Sorry, sorry sorry sorry." He covered his eyes with his hands.

It's been a week that you were gone and Joe didn't know what to do. You blocked him from social media and he didn’t have a way of communicating with you.

As he turned on his computer, he noticed you left your e-mail opened. He hesitated but then decided to open it.

You had an e-mail from an airline. Everything indicated you were in London now. "What is she doing in London?" He thought. "What about her job?"

As soon as he read that, he called Rami. He had moved to London with Lucy and maybe knew something about your whereabouts.

Rami told Joe that Lucy visited you in London but she wasn't going to give him your adress because she knew Rami would tell Joe about it. Joe promised not to visit you, he knew you didn't want to see him. After a few days of asking about you, Lucy finally spoke. You were living in an apartment -a flat, as British people call it-. Joe asked her how were you and Lucy said you were completely heartbroken.

"Can you please tell me her adress?" Joe asked her while they were on a FaceTime call. Lucy was drinking a tea and almost choke as she heard his words.

"What?" Lucy asked confused. "Joe, she needs to be own her own, she needs time."

"I know, I'm not flying to London. I wanna send her a letter."

"A letter? Well, maybe I can write it and give it to her." She offered.

"Thank you but...it's private. I'd rather send it to her."

"Promise me you're not going to show up at her apartment or she'll never speak to me again and you'll never hear from her."

"I promise."

You were trying to get used to living in London. It wasn't like New York but you knew that eventually you were going to feel like you were home.

As you opened the door, there was a letter on the floor. You bend over and pick it up. Your heart stopped as you read Joseph Mazzello, New York, United States of America.

"How did he kno...Lucy!"

She must have told him, you were almost sure about it.

You sat on the couch and stared the letter for like 5 minutes, thinking if you should open it or not. You sighed and decided to open it and read it.

“Dear (Y/N)

First of all, don’t be mad at Lucy for giving me your adress, I promised her I won’t show up at your apartment.

Since I don’t have any way of talking with you, I thought writing this letter was a good idea. If you are reading this, I wanna let you know that everything was my fault. I took everything for granted and I wish things would be different now. This time away from you felt like forever, I guess it’s the price I gotta pay for being such a stupid boyfriend.

You have no idea how much I miss you. Every night I think and dream about you. I love you so much honey, I really do. I don’t know why I was so stupid and ruined everything, but I’m really sorry, I mean it. I wish that I could find a way to turn back time because my life hasn’t been the same since you’ve been gone. I can’t stop thinking about you and all the memories we have together. Getting through the night is the hardest thing to do, I miss feeling your body next to mine, I miss your touching and kissing, I miss everything about you. I try to get a grip but I just can’t put my life back into place, I feel so unprotected without you. I can’t stand the pain, I can’t make it go away. It hurts so much. I know I can’t erase the things that I’ve done, but from the buttom of my heart, I want you to give me a second chance. I know I’ve made more mistakes than I can even count and deep inside I know I don’t deserve another chance to make it work, but I’ll try my best, I’ll try for you. I promise this time I won’t make up excuses, I don’t wanna lose you.

If you can give me half a chance I’ll show how much I can fix myself for you. One thing I know for sure, is that I never should have let you go.”

MASTERLIST

#borhap boys #borhap cast #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzello angst #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello blurb #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello x reader #goldenmazzello

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020. 2:01 AM.

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel. It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup. It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more.

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio. Do you look as tired as you sound? What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed? When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat? He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides. Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats? Would you scream? Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog? He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you. Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn. Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes. Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway.

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM. You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent. He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance. The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.

"You know - the usual," you muse, apathetic. It's always the same.

He doesn't question it any further. He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times. One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush. You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds. He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.

"How was your day?" You're settled back at your computer, he thinks. The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.

"I had the day off, actually." He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover. He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does. It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?" There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?” He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance.

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends. Not that you know any of them. No, no. All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP. Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?” You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.

“Hung out. Did some editing. I’m kind of behind.” That was an understatement. He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”

“Yeah, probably.” Not that he minds, or that he’d change it. He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.

“Sorry not sorry,” you quip, seemingly reading his mind.

“You should be,” he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest. “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended. Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong. “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?”

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves. It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good. Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first. “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.” The briefest pause. “It was terrible. Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“I’m kidding. It was really good.” Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.

“I know!” You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise. He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless.

“Got any more for me?”

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard. Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?” You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful. He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you.

“Yeah. Why not?” It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him. He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting. A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away.

You’re quiet for another second. It feels like an eon. “Okay, yeah. I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020. 6:30 PM.

“You sound like a meathead,” you say, off-hand and disinterested.

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe.

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does. Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows. Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses.

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?” He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose. It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further. You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!” You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right? You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous. It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts.

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did. What of it?” He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.

“You are so, so weird.” There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in. It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings.

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?” If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to. With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made. It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him.

“You just can’t! Only other people can say it.” You sigh dramatically, from your chest. “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.”

“Har har har.”

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating. He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago. There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.

“I’ll have you know I used to run.” Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!” Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.” You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup. It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening. “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours. One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river. He didn’t hurt me or anything—” A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue. “—but he followed me home. I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…”

“So no more running by yourself.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.” It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks, Jay.”

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name. Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.” It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it. How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure. He wishes it weren’t. There’s no way you haven’t heard it.

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears.

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!” Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts. “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head. The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat. A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?” You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out. “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant. The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“Busy with your girlfriend?” Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.

“Not my girlfriend!”

“But you wish she was!”

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face. He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then. You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you.

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020. 12:05 AM.

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on. Realistically, he should go to sleep. He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea. But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does.

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?” The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes. Seven!”

It’s really not that bad. The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.

“Patience is key,” he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery. You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe). The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.

“Patience sucks,” you retort, matter-of-fact.

“You know what else sucks?”

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin. “Spiders? Undercooked samgyupsal? Not having coffee? Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius. He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.

“I was actually going to say me,” he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.

“Wait, why?” You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour. “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him. Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep. “No. I’m sorry.” He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection. He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”

Inhale, exhale. Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her, he tells himself.

“Everything’s okay.” And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.

“Good.”

You’ve chosen Genji, He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.

“Good luck.” You don’t need it. He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?” Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.

“Yeah, pretty early.”

“Then go to bed! I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away. You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were. Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts, “I’m always here for you, Jay.”

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes. this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear. :)

tag list. @teawithbucky

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