#like there are some of those girls who you could believe as black women but then u look at details like that and youre like
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call-me-strega · 5 months ago
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Dc x Dp Prompt #22: the Respectful Catcall Guy
Have y’all seen the videos of the respectful catcall guy? The one who says stuff like “Hey girl! You look like you file your taxes in a timely manner!”, “Hey Dawg! Your eyebrows look like they are on point bro!”, or “Yo! You look like you know how to fold a fitted sheet!”. So instead of an unpleasant experience with harassment you get a nice complement? Y’all know those guys?
So that but it’s Danny and Tucker (Sam’s camera women) on their summer road trip to visit colleges. No on is safe from compliments, not civilians, not super heroes/vigilantes, not even rouges are safe.
Some of these interactions would include:
“Damn Dude! You look like you contribute equally to household responsibilities!” (To Barry out with Iris and his kids, he laughs proudly and Iris says “Yeah he does!”)
“ Hey Man! You look like you always pull up for you friends!” (To Wally picking up a drunk Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, and Roy Harper after an undercover Titan’s mission gone wrong. He smiles awkwardly while his friends laugh)
“Dang Bro! You look like you’re taking your meds regularly!” (Trickster/James Jesse tv show version, he says “I am!” not questioning how they would know he takes meds)
“Damn ma’am! You look like you love every dog unconditionally!” (To Wonder Woman after she stopped to pet a dog)
“Dang girl! You look like you could bench press your friends! I bet you give great hugs!” (To Cassie Sandsmark at a Core Four hang out. She proudly shows off her guns and Bart yells back that she does give great hugs)
“Wow Girl! You look like you know how to use healthy communication and boundaries in your relationships!” (To Black Canary, she smirks proudly)
“Damn man! You look like drink your respect women juice at breakfast, lunch AND dinner!” (To a Clark Kent treating Lois to lunch)
“ Wow man! You look like you make an effort to be and active and present part of your daughter’s life! (To Deadshot/Floyd Lawton and his daughter Zoe out for dinner)
“ Dang girl! You look you know how to find joy and whimsy in life!”(To Raven, she smiled and appreciated it, but did double take at the amount of extradimensional death magic on these kids which check with them about later)
“Dang sir! You look like you know how to properly season your cooking!” (To Alfred Pennyworth out on a grocery run)
“Damn miss, you look like you make environmentally conscious lifestyle choices!” (this is actually Sam to Poison Ivy, she follows it up with “I’m a big fan of your work”)
“ Damn boy, you seem like you’re super passionate about what you believe in and deeply care about the people you love!” (To a budding, upstart crime lord Red Hood who is shook by positive feelings at this time in his life. They track him down and explain liminality and help him deal with emotions before he does smth too drastic like decapitating ppl *cough cough* But he still becomes a Crime Lord to mess with his family and still have a dramatic reveal)
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pynkfairyheart · 5 months ago
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pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader
warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread
a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১
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For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.
You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.
However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.
You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.
That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.
Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.
That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.
Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.
Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.
“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.
Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.
His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.
"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.
“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried
Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.
“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.
You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.
“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy
“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.
“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.
You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.
“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.
“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure
“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.
The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.
Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.
Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.
oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১
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storiesfromafan · 3 months ago
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She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader
A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)
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Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.
Troy and his friends were discussing who’s bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didn’t know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.
“Jeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!” Becky said with a chuckle.
To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.
“Better hope Troy don’t see ya” commented Danni.
“So what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wants” you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.
“Can’t believe the other clubs here” Pam said rattling off names. “...Rogues and Vandals” she finishes.
“Just more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problems” you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.
You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasn’t a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.
After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didn’t stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right you’d get your revenge.
“Sweet lord and Jesus’s!” Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. “He should be illegal!”
You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was – excuse the language – in her ass about eight out of ten times.
“Oh my” Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. “Is he real!?”
Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.
“Someone serve me a slice of that”  Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.
You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.
All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didn’t move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You weren’t sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.
Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.
“Some of the women think kids shouldn’t be attendin’. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesn’t set a good example” laughed Brucie.
Johnny shook his head. “It’s a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah kids should be there” Benny said not really paying much mind.
It didn’t matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they weren’t funny.
“I don’t care if there’s kids, as long as they stay out of my way” Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.
Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.
“Seems ya got an audience” Wahoo mused, slapping Benny’s arm and head gesturing to across from them.
Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Benny’s attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what they’d be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.
Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Benny’s thoughts. Yet he didn’t like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.
“You should go over there Benny” Johnny stated, watching the younger man. “Go introduce yourself”.
Benny thought it over, maybe he should. What’s the harm it could do? What’s the worst that could happen? You would say no, that’s nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.
“I’ll be back” was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.
You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.
“Oh lord! He’s coming this way!” Becky said slapping Pam’s arm. “Do I look alright!?”
“You?! What about me?!” Retorted Pam.
You sighed. “Calm down girls, he’s just a man” you sighed.
“A fine man, yes” muttered Danni.
Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.
“Hey” came his gravelly voice. “I'm Benny”. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.
You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. “Hi Benny, I’m (Y/N)” you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.
“Hmm, pretty name for a pretty vixen” Benny mused, making you chuckle. “Hey ladies” Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.
They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.
“You know how to get women to quiet down, huh?” You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.
Benny laughed. “Don’t know, never taken notice before”.
You smiled at his honesty.
“But it doesn’t seem to work on you, aye?” Benny asked teasingly.
“Unfortunately, nope” was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.
“I like that” he stated looking you up and down. “You got a man?”
You smirked. “Yeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?”
Benny chuckled, “more could you handle me, baby?”
“I can handle anythin' Benny. I’m not afraid of anythin’”. That was a lie, but you couldn’t back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.
“Oh is that so?” Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.
“Yep” you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.
And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didn’t care. You were done with his crap.
“Shame you have a man, as I’d love to take you for a ride on my bike” Benny said, with a sad face. “But, as you said, you have a man...”
You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldn’t hurt to give him some hope, right?
“Hmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bike”. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.
Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.
“Alright baby, when you’re ready let me know”.
With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys he’d left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.
“What?” You asked innocently. Though far from it.
All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.
“Alright, alright. Enough!” You exclaimed, out of breath.
“Seriously (Y/N), what was that?” Asked Danni with confusion.
You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. “Dunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?”
“What about your boyfriend?” Inquired Pam.
Again you shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know”.
Becky scoffed. “Yeah, if you weren’t out in the open, surrounded by people. He’s gonna hear about it”.
“Oh well” you sighed. “Will make things interestin’”.
All three women shared a look. “Maybe. Or cause a brawl”.
You looked to them. “No doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have me”.
And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didn’t want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.
And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldn’t have been flirting. You’d gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.
Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. “Pleasant chat, hmm?”
He smirked taking the bottle. “Yeah, she’s a spitfire”.
The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didn’t help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.
“So, when you taking her for a ride?” Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.
Benny shook his head looking to the male. “She’s got a man”.
“When has that stopped you?” Laughed Wahoo.
Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. “She did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bike”.
Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Benny’s, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasn’t on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.
“I take it the boyfriend is here?” Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.
He shrugged. “Probably”.
“I’d expect he’ll hear about you talkin’ to his girl, ya know?”
“Yeah. I can handle him” Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.
“The boyfriend should be the worried one” laughed Corky.
They know he was right, but didn’t voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.
“Cross that bridge when it comes” Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.
It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.
Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.
“Oh shit!” cursed Danni. “Here comes the consequence”.
Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. “Well, it took him long enough” you sighed, moving to stand.
Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? You’re about to find out.
“(Y/N)! What’s this I’m hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?” Troy questioned, seething with anger.
You raised your bored gaze to him. “Just that, talkin’ to me. And?”
That didn’t help. Troy’s anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm – tightly – and pulled you close. “What was that! Tell me now what happened or so help me”.
Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. “Troy, let go of my arm. You’re hurtin’ me!” Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.
“Tell me if you’re whoring around” he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.
“Ha. I’m far from whoring around Troy” you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. “Unlike you, of course”.
He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. “What ya sayin’, huh!?”
Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troy’s face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.
“She asked you to let her go” Benny heaved. “No man should ever grab a woman like you did”.
Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.
“You alright spitfire?” Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.
You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didn’t say anything. “I’m alright. But gonna have a nice bruise”.
Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. “Take it you’re the Vandal this whore was flirtin’ with” he spat.
It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. “If anythin’ I’m the one who talked to her” Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.
Troy laughed. “No need to lie for her. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble”.
You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. “Other way around baby” you spat out.
Troy’s laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. “Stay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkin’”
“Man” you corrected, “I only see one and he’s defendin’ me”.
That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. “I wouldn’t even try it”.
Troy laughed dryly. “Might straighten her out”.
That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troy’s face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Benny’s fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they weren’t listening. Troy’s buddy’s went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.
Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troy’s buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldn’t pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage he’d done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.
“Don’t ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?” Benny’s voice was breathless and more gravelly.
Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.
Benny turned to you. “Sorry about that spitfire, just don’t like a man disrespecting a woman”.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue”.
He chuckled, “always” and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.
“Alright, come on. Let’s get ya cleaned up” Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.
Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.
Benny looked back to you. “Ya comin’ baby?” He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.
You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. “Sure Benny”.
He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. “What about me? Ya boyfriend?”
You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. “It’s over. Plain and simple”.
He sputtered. “Huh!? Who’s gonna look after me!?”
You smiled at his sweetly. “I dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ain’t ya girl anymore”.
With that, you put Benny’s arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Benny’s hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.
“Sorry you had to step in back there” you said softly. “I didn’t expect that to happen”.
Benny chuckled. “It’s my fault. I struck first, talk later. It’s my style”.
You laughed, a genuine laugh. “Well, how about we both say sorry then”.
Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me”.
A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troy’s club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.
Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. “Your offer still stands for a ride on your bike?”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“I feel like I need a change of scenery” you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.
He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didn’t take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching people’s attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.
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mayullla · 1 year ago
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Title: A Cruel Punishment
Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)
Summary: You were cast aside by your fiance, a prince who fell in love with another woman. You were called an evil woman and you thought you would be sent away yet instead you were given to another. Your hands trembled when you read the contract that you would wed a terrible man.
Tags/Warnings: male!yandere, fem!reader, viscount!yandere x fallen aristocrat!reader, both are adults, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, corporal punishment, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 4.7k words
Part 2 is here!
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This was your punishment.
You did try of course. You tried everything in your power not to have this happen… Yet no matter what you did you were treated like a villain in front of that girl. Tears in your eyes as you watch the man you have loved hold another woman with such care while looking at you in disdain and disgust like you were the devil. 
After misunderstandings and misunderstandings, your fiance has cast you aside for the girl who had become the talk of the aristocratic society. You were also spoken of, as the wicked one who lost her fiance to some countryside noble girl. The lady who was cruel and cunning. A bully towards those who could not speak up for themselves. A noble who had set up her own fall.
Yet that was never the case. You were nothing of that sort yet no one believed. When cautious eyes stayed away from you, not wanting to be caught in the waves or rumors. When those who cared for entertainment smiled at you wickedly, watching everything around you collapse. Those who didn't care turned their backs towards you walking away.
Maybe you should have tried harder… but it was too late. Kicked out of noble society, you awaited your punishment.
You thought you would be sent to a monastery. A punishment to banish the cruel women of nobility. Yet just before you could step foot towards that place, you were dragged back to where you were. 
They had no place for you. Food and water, none of that nor a place for you to sleep. For you, a far worse punishment awaited you. As you stared at the letter sent to you your knees fell to the floor. 
A marriage arrangement contract with the viscount. Cursive, beautiful, and elegant... it was terrifying.
There were many rumors surrounding him, he was someone who always smiled yet the more sharp ones could see the cunningness and hunger in his eyes. There were many rumors around him, that even while handsome many sound-minded women stayed away from him. For those ladies who did not, it was long before they suddenly disappeared, fell into madness or their family suddenly became bankrupt. 
There were rumors that circulated around the nobility that the viscount was dangerous, had a hold of the black market, and dabbled in dark magic. But there was no concrete proof, there was nothing. It was impossible to find information that the rumors were true and those who tried to unravel what was covered could only regret it.
The moment you read the contract that he would have you as his wife it was as if cold water was dumped onto you. Fear encased your heart as you wondered if this was your punishment. 
Those who have heard of this news wondered if you would even be alive after your marriage with that man. Some thought that you would not last even a month later found in a ditch somewhere body chopped into pieces, while organs were sold to the highest bidder.
You were scared as you were essentially dragged to his mansion, under the guise that you and him should get to know each other more before marriage which was in two months' time. Reaching the place and forced to sit down in the guest waiting room, your hands shook as you held your teacup to your lips, you could not focus on the maids bringing desserts. Seconds felt like hours till he finally showed, the same smile on his lips that felt nothing more than a mask. It was obvious that he was hiding something. 
He never tried to hide that smile, in fact, you have never seen another expression on his face other than that sly smile. Maybe already confident that no one would ever find those secrets.
You were cautious of him, having met him a few times at parties and balls you have always kept your guard up and alert around him, never once able to feel comfortable when he stared down at you like a predator watching its prey. You always tried to avoid him, and when you could not you could only sigh in relief when the conversation ended and the two of you separated.
Yet here you were.
"I hope you didn't wait long." He gently asked, taking a seat on the sofa in front of you. The servants had silently left the room after he had motioned them to go out (a flick of his hand) leaving only you and him alone. You shook your head telling him that it was fine that you didn't wait long which he looked as if he had brightened considerably. 
"Then please be comfortable. I do hope the tea is to your liking."
His sly smile never left his face.
It made it difficult to actually make yourself comfortable when you didn't know what he was actually thinking. The short small chat between you and him felt too long as he asked about your likes and dislikes, hobbies, and such. Drinking your tea, you were parched from all the talking and your nerves had somewhat calmed down but you tried your best to hide the tremble in your hand. 
"You must be sad that you have broken up with your fiance." Looking up you looked at the smiling face of the viscount from your tea. His elbow on his crossed knee while he rested his chin on his hand, "You have been his fiance ever since you were little kids. Why do I imagine it is still difficult to separate when you have been together for so long."
You froze at his words, the hurt in your heart that of what happened just a few days ago was still fresh from the pain. "I pitied you. Such a lovely lady, that looked like a rose wilting as others laughed at a beautiful thing. Why when I heard that they planned to send you to the monastery, I only thought it was unfortunate." He sipped his tea calmly as his eyes watched you, as your hands tightened around the teacup fear climbing up your body as you tried to lean away but were unable to because of the sofa.
"...I am sorry... what are you trying to say?" You didn't understand if he was trying to offend you or if he wanted to show his pity. 
You felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.
"Hmmm, for you my dear what I mean to say is that I found it tragic to send such a beautiful lady away." Tilting his head, his sharp eyes staring at you. You tried to concentrate on his words, yet you were struggling. "Then I thought that having you in my grasp would make for such a fine idea. You wouldn't have to go but instead be able to stay and I will get to keep you for myself. Of course, you would need much training before I would release you back into the noble society just like that."
Huh? You tried to listen, yet his words and face started to become a blur. Dizzy and tired you thought as you placed a hand on your head wondering what was the matter with you and if the stress from everything finally caught up to you. It was hard to understand his words, yet you could remember the mocking tone of it. It was getting harder to keep your eyes open.
"It seems that medicine is finally working. Don't worry dear I have made sure just to give you a tiny dose."
There was a sound of glass breaking, wondering what happened you tried to get up again yet were unable to when a hand placed itself on your cheek. The warmth of it was enough to get you to close your eyes. The last thing you heard was his voice.
"Such a cute little dove. Sleep love. When you wake up you will have no more rest. I will train you to become a fine lovely wife just for me and in the eyes of society."
After that darkness was all you could see, consuming all light.
Waking up, you had a major headache. Slowly moving as you push yourself up from the bed when you hear a door open and shut. "You are finally awake."
Opening your eyes, you looked around wondering why you were hearing a somewhat familiar voice when you realized where you were. In a dark room with no windows all except a lamp that lit up the room. There was almost no furniture except the bed that you lay on with expensive sheets and blankets. You suddenly moved alarmed by where you were when the clanging of chains tugged your leg preventing you from getting farther.
Putting force into your leg to pull the chain, you yelped when a sudden pain sprang on your bosom. Grabbing your stomach you looked down to see a crest. A beautiful yet erotic design was laid on the lower side of your stomach through the sheer nightclothes. “You are finally awake! You have slept for quite a while now… three days actually, but I had to make sure that you would not have any irreversible damage from the seal.
"Where... where am I?" You looked at him bewildered, fear and distrust shown in your eyes as you watched him walk closer to you.
"You are in the room you will stay for a little while till our wedding." You raised a brow at his words, surprised and in disbelief but he only chuckled. "My little future wife, my adorable pet, your surprised expression is just so cute. Even since a long time ago, since we met each other the first time I always had this fascination towards you." 
Bending his hips, you and him looked face to face at each other. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes, one that you often see in the past whenever he looked at you. "You see it was something like a love at first sight. While I never believed that at first, I realized that it was indeed true when I first laid eyes on you. Such a prim and proper little lady, trying her best to hide her struggles from the pressure of being the finance of a prince while smiling. Seeing you made me wonder what other expressions you have other than the ones that you show in public. I don't know why but I have a hard time getting you off my mind. And the more I thought about you the more I.. fell."
"Quite the love story is it not? However, you have already belonged to someone else, to that foolish and without a lick of sense or talent prince. I do not understand what you see in such a useless buffoon." Dry words of distaste made you flinch. "But it seems I must only do so little to get him out of your side. Why, he himself volunteered to get out of my sight."
You looked at him alarmed at his words when he suddenly grabbed your chin. Examining as if you were a product that he bought. "He is quite the lustful man, don't you think? Falling in love with a woman when all she did was sway her hips and fall in his arms. That woman is a seductress. Her eyes were very greedy for things that didn't belong to her. I have a distaste for such harlots, I prefer the more meek ones, the little mice or loyal dogs."
Placing your hand on his arm you attempted to get out of his hold. "Stay still dear, I have to check if they did anything to your love face dear. I wasn't able to really examine your face much when I was so busy placing that seal." You yelped when your body suddenly didn't listen when you tried to get away. Your own body started to inch closer to him and stayed still.
"It seems that the seal is working quite nicely don't you think?" His smile could not help but widen a little more as he watched your frantic eyes, asking what he had done to you. "Your little seal here is just to make sure you are properly going to follow with your training and not run away. I had it created just for you when I heard that your fiance wanted to break up with you."
"It is just a simple commanding seal, you are quite the doll but even so I prefer my lover to be well collared just in case she had any thoughts of leaving." Your eyes watered at his words, terror seeping into your veins at the implications.
“My beautiful dove, you belong only to me.”
Things went down from there, forced into his every whim you were forced to study and learn to be the perfect wife for the viscount. Whenever you made a mistake there was a punishment. You learned how to care for the mansion. Yet the more you looked the more your blood became cold.
He was a cruel man. No matter how much you begged the servants to let you out they would not. Instead, they would report your actions to their master which would result in you being punished by him. You felt nothing more than dirt when he hit your hands if not your calves with a rod, tears in your eyes as you were forced to listen to his cooing, words of love, speaking of pain as he was forced to punish his oh so sweet lovely dear who just never listened to him.
You didn't want him anywhere near you, but you stifled all your complaints when you watched his eyes become cold the moment you tried to take a step out of line. So you kept it to yourself as your legs in his commands stayed still, as you showed your hands so that he could smear medicine on where he hit. Wanting nothing more than to hide yourself when you were forced to help him move your skirt so that he could place that cooling medicine in your calves. You were ashamed and embarrassed yet you could not do anything. 
Nothing at all.
Yet the more you stayed in this nightmarish mansion the more open secrets you found.
"I heard that you have caused some trouble with the maids, you know they would be the ones serving you later when you marry me. You should be kinder to them." 
"What happened to them..." You asked, shivering as you pushed yourself further on the bed, wanting anything but to be near the man who was the cause of it.
There was a rumor actually going around one of many about the servants in the viscount's house. When a person enters the mansion as a servant or maid there is a chance you will never see them again, and even if you did they would become a whole different person.
The viscount must have done something, something to make sure that whenever they went out they looked normal to an extent yet at the same time would rather kill themselves than leak a single word about their master. Except for a few who told you about the food and baths no one really spoke unless spoken to. Yet even then there was always this lifelessness in their tone, dead.
They were unbothered by what their master was doing to you, not one reaction did they create when you begged them for help. They wore blindfolds, the viscount didn't care for them but it feels that it was his way of showing his care for you. (Or maybe he wanted to see the shock in your eyes the moment you realize what actually happened to them.) It was by mistake you took off the blindfold of the maid, as you held your breath at their dead, hollow eyes lacking life. There was nothing in those eyes as if there were no memories, no life, nothing. 
They were nothing more than living dead puppets.
"What did you do to those people..." You whispered, flinching when he took another step towards you. Tears were in your eyes as you watched him stop as if to think. You were scared, frightened of what he would do. Could do to you. You thought those were slave tattoos that were banned from the kingdom due to how they would cause painful physical harm to the person, how it was inhumane. Due to its nature, the king banned it a few generations ago. 
"How..."
"Pfft." You flinched at the viscount reaction, trying to hold his chuckle at the back of his hand as he looked away for a moment. After chuckles and coughs escaped his lips he looked back at you again, walking closer to you again. "My dear, your mind thinks of amazing situations. Even I know that slave seals are banned in the kingdom. Why would I risk myself for something like that? I would also be placing you in danger when you are going to become mine soon."
Not that you weren't already. You saw it in his eyes, that he looked at you as if you were his own property.
Taking a seat on the bed that you were chained to he looked at you tilting his head, his smile was mocking as if asking if you were really that dumb. "You are just so cute dear. Let me explain it so that my fiance would understand." Raising his hands he motioned you to come towards him.
You didn't move, still scared, shivering like a small mouse much to his annoyance.
You yelped when your chained leg was roughly grabbed and pulled toward him. You looked fearfully towards the viscount who was staring down at you, his smile gone just for a moment. He raised his hand again, and you could not help but close your eyes till a hand touched your face in a gentle manner, it felt nothing but nauseating "Come here dear, get up. Let your fiance comfort you from your anguish."
But you didn't move, holding your hands near to your chest as you looked at him with fear. You were scared, so scared at the thought that the viscount would make you the same as those lifeless servants. Yet you were suddenly forced up but an invisible thing holding your arm roughly pulled you towards the viscount who caught you in ease. 
"Wha-" "Oh, so eager." That mocking tone again, so close to anger but also amused.
You yelled again, looking at your arms as they moved to their own accord around his neck while your legs also moved by themselves placing you on Viscount's lap. "So eager and so cute... Did you want to jump into my arms that much?" you heard him whisper in your ear as your face heated up in mortification, yet it was obvious that you were shivering still in fear, unable to forget what you saw. 
A small sound escaped your mouth as your body flinched when he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you tightly. "You are shivering dear, were you that afraid? I am sorry love, I should have been the one to come instead of the servants but you need to be punished after what you have done yesterday." Another tiny sound escaped your lips when he started to pat your back, tears flowing down your eyes. From the outside point of view, you looked like nothing but a tearful lady crying in her lover's arms begging him to forgive her, while he was nothing but patient.
You were glad that you could not see his face, as your tears stained the shoulder of his shirt. Patting your back his arm went back to hugging you tightly as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. It brought a chill down your spine. "Those servants are like this because I had to be sure that they would never leak any dangerous information. Many had tried already, I had to be cautious dear. I knew you would be scared of them so I had them cover their eyes." 
He placed a kiss on your shoulder again this time a little nearer to your neck. "The slave seal is banned and I would never dream of using it, so I made one of my own. The kind that is similar to the slave tattoo but would never hurt the wearer, it just keeps them in a trace, a dreamlike state, and only listens to orders."
You wanted to push him away, yet your arms that hugged his neck were locked in place, as your leg tried to curl around his leg without your command. You knew that he wasn't telling everything, that there was more to it as you wonder about the seal right below your belly button.
Your breath hitched when you felt him place his thumb on the seal, as you froze in your spot. Watching your reaction he laughed again, a laugh that sounded so cruel to your ears as he adjusted your body to move closer to him than what was before. 
Warmth touched your neck, his lips touching your neck. Hugging your waist tightly, it was suffocating yet it made him excited, the obsessive love in his eyes so painfully obvious, "My love, I would never do that to you. Your lovely face devoid of any feelings would only hurt me more. To make you a mindless thoughtless servant, that I could never do to you. You just need a little training compared to them..."
"Look at me." Your head did not listen to you, you did not want to look at him. Yet you had no choice but to show your crying face to the man who made you like this. Forced to make eye contact, you saw his obsessed greedy smile as he looked at your face. His eyes swirled with a crazed delight. 
You hate it.
You unconsciously jumped when he touched the seal again, there was a static that ran down your spine when he touched it. A foreign feeling that you didn't feel when you touched the seal yourself. Confused, you looked at him, eye round and asking which only made him laugh even more, "You are so adorable." He whispered as he pulled you closer so that your chests were touching. "So adorable, and mine. Forever mine." He whispered, your arms still wrapped around his neck he continued to mumble those words over and over again. His embrace tighter and tighter making it harder to breathe. "I will train you to become a lovely lady, that any other men and woman would look upon you with envy, yet your thoughts would only be infested with me."
Your body moved without your consent again, hugging just as tight. You didn't want this. "So cute. So cute. God it is so fun to watch you. Your body is still shivering and tears are still in your eyes. You are so cute." He laughed as he continued to say the same thing over and over again. "And you will be all mine officially too. Soon dear, in a few months you will be mine but for now you need to stay here okay? You still didn't finish your punishment too for slapping your poor fiance."
You flinched as he looked at you, feeling an immense pressure that was pushing you down the smile calculative and mischievous, "If you kiss me I will forgive you dear." He told you tilting his head.
You want anything but that, yet when you tried to push him away your body did anything but that as your hands on his shoulder pulled him closer instead. 
This was your punishment.
Yet nothing changed even after that. Nothing at all when your eyes were forced to read the books that talked about a prim and proper lady.
Every day in your mind you thought that this was your punishment. That you were weak, that you didn't know. Those misunderstandings between you and the prince were caused because you didn't try enough. The Viscount fed you well, even when you didn't have an appetite you tried to eat because of fear, cause you were fearful of the servants who looked after you. You were dressed "well" and taken care of. 
However, rather than a human you were almost treated like a doll. The chain was always there on your foot rather than useful; it was a reminder that you were trapped here.
Morning you were forced to study, manners that you learned when you were young you were forced to learn again with the viscounts teaching. He was more strict than your previous teachers, forcing you to do the same sets of movements again and again, from how you eat and how you drink tea. He wanted all the mannerisms drilled into your head so that you would be perfect. To how you walk and hold a teacup. You whelped in pain when he whips you from the small mistakes you have made. Your calves burned in pain and so did the palm of your hands.
Dancing was hell, he found everything wrong with each step. If you weren't able to do it, the punishment was simple as your body was forced to do the same movements over and over and over again. Depending on how skilled or how bad you were you could only become better as you were forced to dance the same song for hours on end. Your body holding the pose of holding the viscount shoulder and hand as he went away telling you to be good and continue practicing telling you that he would come back when he finishes work.
When he came back, you were sweating with a feverish tired look to your face as your body forced you to continue moving to the steps of the dance. More often than not you would fall into the arms of the viscount much to his delight. Asking if you finally memorize each and every step. Sometimes you could not answer too tired to do so and sometimes he was forgiving, other times not so much. You yelped in pain when you heard the loud smack, even while carrying you in his arms he was strong enough to hold you and land a slap on your butt for not answering. You would answer as soon as possible after that, scared that he would hit you again. 
It seems that much as he loved perfection, he also adored how fragile and weak you were in his arms. This idea of you being only able to rely on him. As he kissed your feet after taking off your dance shoes, watching you with a crazed lust in his eyes. Unable to pull away when all your energy had been taken away, you could do nothing but close your eyes away from the viscount and his taunting love.
There was even more training after that, he made so that each step you took reminded you of him whether that be the stinging pain of your butt after you had made the mistake of unconsciously trying to avoid him, or thin and revealing the clothes he made you wore were.
Silks and satins, short and over your knees essentially underwear in your eyes when the world viewed the showing of ankles to be too seductive and immoral dresses were the most covered-up clothes you were allowed to wear in the mansion. You hated the feeling of lifeless eyes that the servants had watching you.
And if he was feeling rather sadistic, he would mockingly manipulate your body to play to his whims.
On the day of the marriage, you could not help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You don't remember how many days you were trapped in the Viscount mansion. You wondered if you were broken, broken to the point that you had no willpower to even make a peep at your sufferings. You have long given up, too afraid of something worse you choose to fall. You were too afraid to resist and for him, this was nothing more than amusement. A satisfaction that you were his.
You could not run away, not when he held power over you. Not when he could manipulate your actions and steps. Nothing belonged to you, your life was signed away long ago ever since he saw you.
You thought of yourself as a marionette yet to him he thought of you as his lovely bride.
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muffinpink02 · 8 months ago
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Like A Virgin -
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Alessia is a lesbian, but she’s scared to come out. She’s desperate to find the courage to have sex with a women, but isn’t sure how to go take those first steps. So she asks her team mate, Lucy Bronze to teach her, but Alessia is more confident than she thinks.
word count 16k
Warnings - smut, fingering, strap, cunnilingus, first time, shame of sexuality
Her hand was shaken as she rang the door bell, the nerves getting to her once again. It wasn’t the first time she’d been at the defenders house.
She had been here twice before, the first time was a party for the lionesses after the euros win. The second time was for Lucy’s 30th, the brunette had a massive house party, probably one of the drunkest nights the striker had ever had. And one of the funnest.
And here she was, staring at the black door, feeling her skin prick with goosebumps. She couldn’t believe she was doing this.
—————
Since Alessia was an early teen she knew she liked girls, but she had never really admitted it to herself. It scared her beyond belief, she hid hid it from her friends, she would pretend to her school friends that she had crushes on whoever was the latest boy band that was trending.
She just wanted to fit in, she pushed it so far down that she even forced herself to have sex with a boy when she was 18.
It was awful, he was nice enough, he didn’t force her into doing anything she didn’t want  to do, but it wasn’t what she wanted. It was just something she made herself do, to try and see if she could feel something for the opposite sex, but it only confirmed it for her, that there was no way she liked men.
Years had passed, and she had never had sex with another man, or even a woman, she hadn’t even kissed a girl.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she didn’t shy away from pleasuring herself, her hands were a regular visitor between her legs. She had all the urges her body wanted her to do, but Alessia was shy, scared, and felt completely lost with doing the real thing.
It definitely didn’t help that she wasn’t out.
She kept her sexuality to herself, hoping one day that she would finally find the courage to do something about it. But it was hard.
She knew some of the girls on her team were out, and she wanted that so badly for herself. She just didn’t know how to go about it.
Well she had one idea.
But how do you ask one of your teammates to have sex with you because you’re too scared to go out and find someone yourself?
It wasn’t the worst idea, she trusted the girls, she knew some of them were lesbians or bi so it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing.
Another reason she wanted to ask someone she knew was because of the fame that had blown up for them. She was worried of sleeping with a stranger and they ended up selling a story or it got online somewhere. That was the absolute last thing she wanted, so another football player made the most sense.
She looked around the room wondering who she could ask, her best friend Ella was a no go, she was as straight as they came. Jess was in a relationship, so she was a no. She wondered about Rachel, but she was worried she might let her secret slip. She also wanted to ask someone she found attractive, and there was one person that had always caught her eye.
She looked over at the brunette, changing into her kit, her abs looked extra hard where they had just had gym workouts. Alessia had always admired Lucy’s godlike body, she had muscles for days, her body was the peak of physical perfection. Lucy was a quiet member of the team. She had her loud moments but in general she was quiet, a lot like Alessia.
When she first joined the squad she was most nervous to meet Lucy, she had looked up to the girl for years and still did to this day. Lucy had always been nice to the blonde, she had helped her a lot when she was new to the team, making her feel welcome. She’d always be there if she had any questions, never making her feel stupid for asking them.
They didn’t speak much with each other, as their friend groups were different, but they was always friendly when they did speak. Alessia wanted to ask Lucy. She was trustworthy, she was kind. She was older, so she felt like she wouldn’t be judged like maybe some others would judge her. And Alessia was physically attracted to her. Very attracted.
But how do you go about asking Lucy Bronze to sleep with you?
She waited until after practice, she knew Lucy was always one of the last ones to leave. So she took her time getting ready, glancing every so often at the brunette. Once she noticed Lucy was about to leave she hurried over to her.
The brunette picked up her gym bag, a bit shocked that Alessia was now in front of her. “Alright Less?”
“Ye-yeah. Practice was good today?”
“Yeah, our team won, so that’s always good.”
Alessia could tell Lucy was confused, they never spoke like this, it was a weird interaction for the pair to be having. It was now or never.
“Can I ask you a favour? Well, not a favour a question?”
Lucy was now very confused, she looked around the room, wondering why Alessia was asking her a favour and not someone like Ella.
Her deep northern accent sounded extra thick. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Alessia looked at her feet wondering if this was the right thing to do? Was she really about to ask this? “I - I wanted to ask if…..if you would. Would you recommend your boots? Mind have felt a bit weird lately.” She felt her shoulders drop in annoyance with herself. She bottled it.
Lucy looked at the younger girl with a face Alessia could have laughed at if it wasn’t for the circumstance, she was confused with a capital C. The brunette looked once more around the changing rooms, she was wondering if the younger girl was trying to pull a prank on her. She was certain someone was about to jump out recording the interaction.
She cleared her throat. “Erm, yeah mine are good, no weirdness. Just good old boots.”
The younger girl nodded, not really bringing her eyes to Lucy’s, she felt stupid.
Lucy pulled her bag up on her shoulder. Alessia realised she was probably waisting the girls time and probably getting on her nerves.
“Oh great, thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lucy looked at the girl, she could see she seemed sad but she wasn’t sure why. But she wasn’t one for prying. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Lucy walked out the changing rooms, Alessia heard her steps disappear into the corridor. She grabbed her own bits and slowly started to make her way out, feeling completely deflated.
She made her way to her car when she heard a horn, she looked up to see Lucy’s car was still in the car park. She then noticed Lucy waved for her to come over. She felt her stomach drop.
But she walked to the car, trying to build up the confidence she used for games, she was going to need it.
She opened the passenger door, she smiled nervously at Lucy.
“Get in.”
Alessia did what she was told.
“What’s up Less? You looked like you were going to cry in there. Are you okay?”
Alessia felt a weird wave of many different emotions take over her, she could feel her eyes start to water. But she never let them fall. She then felt a warm sensation on her thigh, it was Lucy’s strong hand on her, a gesture that you wouldn’t see the brunette do often.
“Hey, talk to me.” Lucy’s voice was soft.
She let out a long sigh. Tears finally slipping at the corner of her eyes. “It’s going to sounds so stupid, and possibly rude. And I can’t believe I was even going to ask you. I just don’t know what else to do, and I’m just scared.”
“What is it? You can ask me.”
It’s now or never.
“I was going to ask if you would have sex with me.”
Lucy. wasn’t sure if she should ask the girl to repeat herself. Did she hear that right? Lucy definitely thought she was being pranked now, she half waited for a camera to come out or some party poppers. But they never came. I mean it wasn’t like she hadn’t ever thought about it, the girl was beautiful. Lucy had always thought she had a rare, cute innocence to her, but still held so much sex appeal without forcing it. You’d have to be an idiot to say no. But why was she so upset?
Alessia held her breath, the car felt like it had no oxygen, she felt like she was drowning, why did she do this? Just die a lesbian virgin and be done with it.
“Erm, I mean yeah, but why?”
What? Did she just say yes? Did she say she would have sex with her?
Alessia took a long breath, this was going to sound ridiculous. “I’m a lesbian.” It was the first time she had said those words out loud, let alone to someone else.
She continued, taking a long breath. “I haven’t had sex with a woman yet, and I really want to but I’m scared, and I want to be with someone who’ll talk me through it. I want to have sex with someone I trust.” Her voice was small and cracking, but she carried on. “I’m a lesbian, but I’m just so scared.”
Lucy felt her heart drop, she had never seen Alessia, the 5.9 ft girl ever look so small and vulnerable. She took in what she said, she understood where she was coming from. She knew first hand, coming out when she was younger was hard, it’s like jumping into a lake of cold water, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever come up for air. She knows it’s hard, and she understands, but she couldn’t help but be confused why she’d asked her and not someone else.
“I get it Less, I know it’s hard but you have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of, I know it’s got to be in your own time, but trust me when I say it’s the best feeling, being yourself.”
Alessia smiled at the brunette, she knew she was right, and she knew she’d get there one day. “Thank you, Luce.”
They both smiled at each other, a few minutes of silence filling the car.
“Also please don’t feel like you need to say yes, it’s absolutely fine to say no, I know it’s weird thing to ask someone.”
Lucy chuckled. “I’m actually flattered, but I can’t help but wonder, why me?”
Alessia suddenly became shy, considering she just asked Lucy to have sex with her. “Well, I feel like I could trust you with my secret and with the actual sex itself. I want someone who will teach me and show me what to do and not make me feel stupid for it. And I also find you really attractive.” Alessia took a quick glance at the older girl, she found her green eyes on her.
Lucy smiled a playful smile at the blonde. She felt her ego grow but not just in a sex way but the fact that Alessia trusted her enough with something so important to her. Something she was clearly struggling with. “Well, I can’t say I’m not shocked, but I’m very flattered. I think we should talk about it though, why don’t we go for some drinks, and we can talk it through?”
Alessia felt the breath she was holding slip through her lips. “Yeah, that sounds good. Please can we keep this between us?”
Lucy screwed up her face. “Of course.”
The blondes eyes were wet with soft tears. “Thank you.”
Lucy smiled softly at the blonde, her Bambi blue eyes looked like they was holding in so much pain. She felt something stir in her, she felt like she needed to protect Alessia at all costs. “No worries. I promise it’s get better Less.”
She smiled at the older girl, even if they didn’t end up having sex she felt lighter having told someone finally about her secret. “Are you free to meet up tomorrow?”
The brunette nodded. “Yeah. Do you wanna meet at Lemon? We can talk there?”
Alessia smiled her brilliant toothy smile, she was feeling a little better with each minute that passed. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll text you.”
The brunette smiled. “Good. Do you need a lift home?”
“No I’ve got my car, thank you though.”
Just as she pulled opened the car door she turned back to the brunette. “Thank you, Lucy.”
“Don’t stress. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lucy smiled warmly at the blonde.
Alessia smiled and closed the door, she made her way to her car, getting in and starting the engine. The brunette watched her the whole way, happy to start her own engine once Alessia had started to drive off.
The brunettes mind was scrambled, she wasn’t sure if what just happened was real. The idea wasn’t the craziest thing she ever heard, she understood where Alessia was coming from. She knew a few of her friends that had sex with someone they knew first out of fear.
She didn’t think it was the strangest thing, but she was still shocked to be the one asked. She started her engine and drove off, the blonde was the only thing on her mind that night.
—————-
They had arranged to meet at ‘Lemon’ a bar they had been to with a few of the girls before. Alessia was waiting in a booth at the back, it was as discreet as she could find, she wasn’t keen on having anyone ease drop on their conversation.
She wore a simple outfit, a black crop top and loose jeans. She went for light make up, with her hair flowing over her shoulders. Finished with a pair of adidas. It was simple but she looked cute.
As she sat she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Lucy smiling down at her. She felt a warm sensation go through her belly. She was actually here. They hugged in a tight embrace, Alessia’s senses were flooded with Lucy’s usual woody, but sweet perfume.
Lucy sat across from her in their booth, she looked as good as ever. She was wearing a cream cardigan, with a white crop top and burgundy trousers. Her hair in a low bun, also wearing light make up. Wearing the latest Nike trainers as always, Alessia saw her in a new pair every time she saw her.
The older girl smiled at the blonde. “Hey, you okay?”
Alessia smiled, relaxing instantly. “Yeah, I’m good, thank you. You?” Her voice held a shakiness to it, the brunette heard it straight away.
“Hey you know we’re just talking right now, we don’t even have to go through with it. We can talk about anything you want. We can just have a night out if that’s what you want.”
Alessia’s eyes widened in panic. Thats is not what she wanted. “No, no. I definitely want to, I’m just a bit nervous, but I definitely want to. But if you don’t want to that’s absolutely fine as well.”
Lucy smiled softly at the blonde. She would do whatever Alessia wanted or felt comfortable with. “Let’s get a drink.”
The girls ordered their drinks, they spoke about the next game they had coming up. They spoke about training and how the competition was looking.
Lucy didn’t want to go straight into the sex conversation, she wanted to get Alessia to relax and make sure if this is really what she wanted. It was working, Alessia was feeling more relaxed, her racing heart had calmed down immensely. This was another reason why she had asked the brunette, the girl had a way of making you feel calm in her presence, intimidating, but calm.
The intimidated part wasn’t what the brunette was going for, it was just a natural aura she possessed. People were intimidated by her, even people that had known her few years, she radiated self confidence, she also was an aloof character.
Alessia looked at the older woman in front of her, it sunk in that she would potentially be having sex with her. It made her stomach flutter and even further down south. “So, where shall we start?” Alessia gave a shy smirk.
The brunette smiled playfully at the girl across from her. “Well, I guess what you want, what you don’t want. Toys, rules, giving, receiving. How rough you like, not rough at all. Safe words”
Alessia felt her belly go again, more of a nervous feeling. “Well, I’ve watched a lot of porn, and read a lot of erotic novels. And I’d really like you to use a strap on, on me.”
Lucy had to hold back the shiver that went up her neck, she instantly wondered what Alessia would sound like if she was fucking her with a strap. The brunette couldn’t help it, she had always thought the blonde was hot. She had eyes, she could still respect the girl during all of this but she was human, her mind would wonder. They were planning on having sex after all.
“Yeah, that’s no problem. I can do that.”
“I also would like to use it on you, but it’s okay if not.”
“Yeah, that’s okay, I’m good with that.”
“I also want to erm….to go down on you, and you go down on me.”
Lucy closed her eyes quickly. Trying to hold down the hot sensation going through her body. “Y-yeah. That’s good with me.” Lucy took a sip of her drink.
Alessia nodded, glad this was going as well as it was. Not noticing the effects she was having on the older girl. “I kind of just want the usual lesbian sex, I want to do a lot with you. Maybe just do what you would normally do with a girl, and I can learn. Again if you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah, I get what you mean. I’m happy with that. I’ll show you the ropes. If you’re into ropes.” Lucy winked, giving her best her flirty smile.
Alessia felt her heart speed up. This was the other reason she had asked Lucy, she was confident in herself and her sex appeal was overwhelming. “I think I’d like that.” She gave Lucy a flirty smile of her own.
She continued. “I can book us a hotel, if you’re happy with that? I’m still flat sharing at the moment.”
Lucy drank her drink and shook her head. “We can do it at mine, I don’t mind. I mean we can do the hotel if you want. But I feel like it would be more comfortable in a space we know. But again I don’t mind.”
Alessia nodded her head. She agreed, she would have liked to have done it at hers, but she wasn’t guaranteed her privacy there, and it was even better to have Lucy’s own house, with no one to walk in on you. She nodded. “I would much rather that. I did feel a bit sleazy at the thought of it to be honest.”
Lucy chuckled. “You may be a few things but sleazy is not one of them Less.”
Alessia giggled, once again feeling completely at ease with the brunette.
The girls talked more about the rules and what Alessia wanted to explore. They spoke about the fact that this wasn’t an emotional thing, just something Lucy was helping Alessia with. Both girls were more than happy with it all. The girls were in Soho, so luckily there were several sex shops near by, they felt it would be good to pick up some supplies.
The blonde finished her third drink, the brunette shortly behind her. They visited the first shop they saw, Alessia followed Lucy’s lead, it seemed she’d been here before, knowing what was on what aisle. They explored the dildos and strap on section, Alessia was shocked at all different types to choose from.
She saw a 12 inch jet black dildo that made her eyes pop. She wondered how on earth someone could fit that in any hole. It made her think to tell Lucy she probably would need to go slow at first, as it had been a while.
“Erm Luce, just so you know, it’s been a while for me.”
Lucy smiled at the blonde, with a calm expression. “That’s okay, we can go as slow as you like, and as big or small.” The older girl wondered though. “How long is a while?”
“Couple years.”
“Oh. Like two? Three?”
“Six. It was my first and last time with a boy.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s good to know.”
The blonde felt insecure, Lucy probably thought she was a weirdo now. Lucy sensed the way Alessia clammed up. She was instantly by the girls side. “Hey, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter, I just want to know exactly where you’re at. I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable.”
Alessia smiled at the brunette, she really did make the blonde feel comfortable, her calm aura was easy to take on. Lucy looked into the big blue innocent eyes of the younger girl, she could see a mix of emotions swirling around. She gently grabbed the girls face and brought her lips to her four head, kissing her gently.
She felt Alessia’s body relax under her hands.
“Thank you, Luce. Thank you for this.”
“It’s okay. Remember we go at your pace.” Lucy continued. “Do you want to look at the at BDSM section?” She chuckled trying to lighten the mood, but Alessia’s face was eager. “Oh, I was joking but we can?”
“I just want to look.” Alessia already started walking to the red light section, Lucy right behind her.
The girls looked around the whole shop twice over. They brought the essentials and more. They shared an Uber back, luckily the blonde was only a 10 minute drive away from Lucy. Alessia turned to Lucy in the car, smiling at her, the brunette was looking at the busy streets of London.
They made it to Lucy’s place first. The brunette squeezed Alessia’s hand, as a comfort move. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember it’s your day, it’s your pace.”
The blonde smiled warmly at the brunette. “Yeah, I’ll see you then. Thank you Luce.”
Lucy nodded, she took the toys Alessia had brought so they were ready at Lucy’s.
——————
And that’s how she found herself at Lucy’s door.
She let out a big breath as she waited for the older girl. Lucy opened the door to a nervous looking Alessia. Although she looked nervous she also looked excited. “Hey, come in.” Lucy opened her door wider.
Alessia smiled  as she walked in the familiar house, it didn’t seem much different since she was last here. Lucy was right to suggest doing this somewhere they knew.
“Can I get you a drink?”
Alessia wanted to be sober for the occasion but she also wanted a bit of courage. “Please, what have you got?”
—————-
Lucy popped a bottle of Prosecco, pouring both girls a glass. She handed Alessia her drink. “Erm, I might only have the one, I want to be able to show you everything with a sober head.”
Alessia smiled. “Yeah me too, I want to remember everything we do.”
They spoke about a TV show that they’d both been watching, once again Lucy was trying her best to keep the atmosphere calm, and chill. They had both finished their first glass. Alessia looked at Lucy, a small smirk on her face. “You ready?”
Lucy felt excitement rush through her body, as much as she wanted the night to go smooth and make Alessia feel as good as possible, she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.
The girl had so many other girls to ask, but she asked Lucy, she couldn’t help that her ego grew for many different reasons. “Yeah, I am. Are you?”
Alessia nodded.
“Use your words Less, remember what we spoke about.”
“I’m ready. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
Lucy put her hand out for Alessia to take, and the blonde didn’t hesitate to take it. She brought her hand up to her lips, kissing her hand softly. Alessia felt warmth in her stomach, she watched as the brunettes lips lingered on her skin.
“Come, let’s go to my room.” The girls made their way to Lucy’s room. Alessia’s hand never leaving Lucy’s.
The brunettes room was dimly lit, a vanilla scent consumed Alessia’s nose. The room was lit by a bunch of candles on Lucy’s dresser side, it made Alessia smile, the girl was going out of her way to make this night special for her. Lucy brought Alessia into the middle of the room. She held her hand smiling at the younger girl.
“I know I’ve said it already but please let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want to stop at any point.”
“I will.”
Lucy nodded. “How do you want to start?” The brunette brought Alessia’s hand to her mouth again, kissing her knuckles softly.
“I want to kiss you.”
“Okay.” Lucy stepped slowly into Alessia’s space, her familiar perfume melted into the younger girls nose, filling her senses with everything that was Lucy. She placed her hands onto Alessia’s face, guiding her slowly to her mouth, bringing their lips together.
Finally.
Alessia had just found what she had been looking for, and that was women. Lucy’s lips were perfect, it was nothing like kissing a man, it had never felt like this, this finally felt right. Lucys lips were soft and gentle, she kissed her with perfect pressure, she never wanted to stop.
Alessia had one of the softest pair of lips Lucy had ever kissed. She was about to pull herself back but felt Alessia tug her back in with her own hands. They stayed like this for a few minutes, just feeling each other’s mouths. Lucy could feel Alessia getting more comfortable, her body relaxing under her touch.
Alessia could have stayed like this all day.
Lucy chuckled gently at Alessia’s eagerness. She pulled back again, Alessia didn’t stop her this time. Lucy looked at Alessia’s face, she looked dazed.
“That was amazing.” The blonde whispered.
Lucy smiled from ear to ear, she couldn’t help but feel a little cocky but still wanted to check in with the younger girl. “Are you doing okay?”
Alessia smiled, she appreciated that the brunette was checking in, but now she wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her. “I’m good, thank you. I’ll promise I’ll let you know if I’m not.”
Lucy nodded, bringing her mouth back to Alessia’s.
This time Alessia took more of a charge, she kissed Lucy with determination, wanting to feel her mouth on hers again. But it was Lucy who slipped her tongue across Alessia’s mouth, causing the girl to let out the cutest whimper, a noise Lucy knew she’d definitely want to hear again.
Lucy still had her hands on Alessia’s face, she slowly slipped her hands into her blonde hair, deepening the kiss. She licked at the younger girls soft lips again. Alessia whimpered, allowing Lucy to gently slip her tongue in.
The moan that came from the blonde was erotic. Lucy felt Alessia inhale sharply through her nose. Lucy was doing things to Alessia’s head, she felt dizzy, her body felt intoxicated by the older girl.
Their kisses got more heated, the blonde even felt confident enough to slip her own tongue into the mix. Lucy was more than happy to finally feel the blonde gain some courage.
Alessia mirrored the older girl, slipping her hands around the back of her neck, she pushed further into the brunettes mouth. Her tongue roamed around the new space, being spurred on by the moaning coming from Lucy. She couldn’t help but feel proud to make the one and only Lucy Bronze moan from her kisses.
And Lucy wouldn’t deny it, Alessia could kiss. It was as if she knew exactly what Lucy liked, she used her lips and tongue perfectly. So perfectly, she was feeling dizzy herself. Lucy pulled back, she couldn’t help but smile at the blondes kissed swollen lips. She hadn’t noticed until now, how naturally full Alessia’s lips were, even noticing the unique beautiful Cupid bow shape of her lips.
Alessia wanted to keep things moving. “Can we get undressed now?”
Lucy nodded. Alessia started to pull Lucy’s T shirt over her head, revealing her beautiful six pack. The blonde had seen Lucy’s six pack countless times before and was always amazed at the sight. But now she was allowed to touch those beautiful abs, she couldn’t help but run her hands over her stomach, she loved the way Lucy shivered from her touch.
Lucy pulled Alessia’s t shirt over her head, her eyes roamed the blonde stunning body, noticing the hot flush on her neck. “You look beautiful Less, you really are stunning.”
She brought her mouth to Alessia’s neck, kissing the girl gently. She held her hips bringing her body closer to her own. She mindlessly ran her hands slowly up Alessia’s arms, down her back and on her own abs, as she continued her kissing.
The younger girls eyes fluttered shut, her mouth gapped open, her skin flared up in goosebumps. Lucy’s mouth on her neck felt incredible, her touches were soft and gentle. She let out a small moan once she felt Lucy’s tongue come into the mix.
“Oh my god, that feels so good.” She couldn’t believe this was finally happening, her body felt like it was on fire.
Lucy started to unbutton Alessia’s jeans, she wanted to ask if it was okay but she didn’t want to keep bugging the girl, she trusted that she would let her know. She started to kiss down the blonde girls gorgeous body, sucking the flesh at her breast. She wanted to kiss every inch of Alessia’s skin, wanting to make the girl feel adored.
Alessia put her hands on Lucy’s shoulders, needing something to hold on too. As her body was being worshiped. “Luce, your mouth is amazing.” She half whispered her words.
Lucy had to stop her cocky self from saying something like, ‘she hadn’t felt nothing yet.’ She kept it to herself, but still had to say something. “I can’t wait to use it on you.”
Alessia had already felt her wetness in her knickers but Lucy’s words had definitely just ruined them. She felt a shiver of excitement run through her body.
Lucy knelt on her knees, never stopping her kissing on the beautiful body in front of her. She began to pull the younger girls jeans down, revealing long, firm legs that never stopped. Lucy continued on kissing until she got to the top of Alessia’s thighs.
Alessia was finding it hard to breathe with Lucy’s mouth all over her skin, she could feel herself getting more and more wet. She could feel the wetness flooding her underwear inbetween her lips, she knew Lucy was going to see it for her herself.
And she did, she saw the dark wet patch on Alessia’s pink thongs, it made her chest swell with pride. She guided her long legs out of her jeans. “Is someone getting excited?” Lucy’s breath ghosted the younger girls sensitive skin, making her shiver.
Alessia had said yes to dirty talk in the bedroom, she was hoping it would be something she would like. She was beyond grateful Lucy had asked because it instantly turned her on more. “Yea-yeah. I am.”
Lucy smiled as she came back up, she wanted to kiss those perfect full lips again. Alessia would let Lucy do anything to her at this point, she was putty in her hands, and they had only gotten started. She kissed the blonde softly, slipping her tongue into her pretty mouth. Once again earning a moan from the girl.
Lucy would be lying if she wouldn’t say she was turned on just as much as the younger girl. Alessia’s moans alone was doing it for her, everything Alessia was doing was turning her on. She was about to take off her own jeans when Alessia stopped her.
“Do you mind if I do it?”
Lucy nodded.
Alessia undid the brunettes jeans, never taking her blue eyes off of her green ones, it may have been the first time Alessia had made the girl nervous. And she wasn’t wrong, Lucy did feel nervous under the blondes gaze, and she didn’t hate it.
Alessia copied the brunette, she started to kiss her neck, sucking at points on her skin, causing the brunettes breathing to quicken. She began her trail of kisses down to the brunettes chest, but she wanted to see more. She snaked her hands around Lucy’s back, her hands lingered on the bras clasp, once again looking at Lucy’s eyes. Lucy nodded.
She undid her bra, impressing herself that she was able to undo the clothing without looking. Even the brunette looked surprised. She dropped the bra to the floor, her breath hitched in her throat at the sight. Lucy’s breast was perfect. Alessia licked her lips wanting to run her tongue all over the rose bud coloured perks.
She lowered her head to Lucy’s right nipple, slowly kissing the erect bud. She eagerly opened her wet mouth taking in Lucy’s nipple. She was shocked at the reaction she got from the brunette.
A small whimper escaped Lucy’s mouth, she could feel her pussy flutter from the girls soft mouth on her sensitive flesh. She swirled her tongue over Lucy’s perfect tight bud, loving the noises she was pulling from the older girl.
Lucy’s hand slowly moved into the blondes hair, gently stroking her fingers along the blondes scalp, making Alessia shiver. “Fuck, Alessia.” Lucy looked down at Alessia, her long, dark lashes just barely touching her olive skin. The girl was truly beautiful.
Alessia kept up her assault on the older girls chest, she slowly lifted her other hand to cup Lucy’s left breast. She didn’t know what she was doing, she was going off of porn and natural instinct.
Lucy felt her legs shake, she couldn’t believe how skilful Alessia’s mouth was. For someone who had never done this before, she felt like a sex goddess.
Alessia let go of the bud with a loud pop of her plumed lips, looking up at Lucy. For the first time tonight the brunettes face was dazed, Alessia was more than happy with that. She could feel her confidence growing, more and more. She did the same as Lucy did and dropped to her knees.
Lucy looked down at Alessia, and it was a beautiful sight to see, her piercing blue eyes were looking up at her with so much adoration, it nearly took Lucy’s breath away. She began to kiss Lucy’s stomach, closing her eyes as she felt the hard muscles against her lips.
Her confidence started to peak again. “Do you know how many girls want you Luce? I hear it all the time, so many of the football girls want to sleep with you.”
Lucy smirked, she couldn’t believe Alessia was already going for the bedroom talk. She kept surprising the girl with how much of a natural she was. “Yeah? What do they say?” She stroked the blondes hair back.
The blonde looked up at the brunette, gliding her tongue from her boxer line to the bottom of her belly button.
Lucys eyes snapped shut, her head tilted back, trying to hold in a moan. Wasn’t it meant to be her doing this to Alessia? How was she already so confident?
“They say how sexy you are, how powerful you are on the pitch. They talk about your abs constantly.”
“And what do you say when the girls are talking about me?” Lucy wanted to build her up.
“I say they’re right, you are one of the most talented.” Kiss. “Sexist.” Kiss. “Beautiful.” Kiss. “Players out there, and now I get to sleep with her.”
Lucy bit her lip hard, Alessia was on fire, she was making her ego grow. She pulled Lucy’s trousers down, helping the brunette out of them.
Lucy motioned the girl up. The blonde did what she was told. Lucy kissed the blonde gently, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Firstly, wow. Are you sure you’ve never done this before? You’re completely a natural at this.”
The blonde couldn’t hold back the shy smile, Lucys words made her feel on top of the world. “I’ve got a good teacher.”
“No, this is all you. Really, you’re just… wow.”
The blonde smiled in that very cute way that she did, it made Lucy’s heart flutter. She felt proud of her. She continued. “Also, are you doing okay? Is there anything you want to ask? Or anything going too fast?”
“I’m so good, genuinely. I’m so glad you said yes to this. I can’t thank you enough. Are you having fun?”
“Its not a problem, I’m glad I could be of help. Yeah, I’m having a lot of fun.” She smiled playfully at the blonde. She continued.
“What do you wanna do now?”
Alessia wanted to eat Lucy out but she thought it might be better if Lucy maybe did it first, she could maybe learn a thing or two. She felt shy saying it. She bit her lip, looking at Lucy adorably. A 360 from being on her knees a few seconds ago.
“Can you go down on me? I wanted to do it to you first but I want to see how it feels.”
Lucy felt her pussy flutter, once again her own wetness was evident between her legs. She nodded. A playful smirk on her face, she couldn’t hide that she was excited. She moved close to Alessia, she cupped her chin, looking into her blue eyes. “Of course I can. I can’t wait to taste you.” Lucy’s voice was low.
Alessia’s pupils were already blown but now they nearly took over the blue in her eyes. She felt her clit throbbing, it was nearly painful.
Lucy took the blonde by her hands, guiding her to the king size bed. They crawled on the bed, Lucy watched Alessia’s face for any doubt, but she didn’t show any. They laid next to each other smiling, Lucy placed a hand on the younger girls hip, stroking her skin. She shuffled close so they were inches from each other’s faces.
She gently kissed the girl, her lips were doing things to Alessia, they were addicting to kiss. Her hand snaked behind Alessia’s back, undoing her bra with one hand, in one go.
Alessia giggled. “Show off.”
Lucy chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
She removed the blondes bra, releasing a perfect pair of breast. She had to hold in the groan that nearly escaped her. She was still trying to be as slow as she could. They carried on kissing, at first it was slow and gentle but it soon became desperate and loud. Lucy could feel Alessia exploring her mouth with her tongue, making the older girl groan in pleasure.
She was embarrassed by how turned on the blonde was making her, she was meant to be the teacher here, the one with some self control but the younger girl was making it hard.
Alessia felt Lucy push her gently on her back, never letting their kissing come to an end.
Lucy pulled back, smiling down into Alessia’s face, the girl looked wrecked, her breathing was hard, her eyes nearly black. It was when she bit her beautiful pink swollen lips that Lucy nearly lost it.
Lucy once again felt a groan in her throat but this time she couldn’t hold it back. “You look amazing Less.”
The blonde was becoming a little ragged, she desperately wanted to feel Lucy’s mouth on her. She needed some kind of release. “Luce, please can you go down. Please.”
Fuck. Alessia begging was something she knew she’d be keeping in her own wank bank, she would have liked to have gotten her to beg a little more but she could tell she was desperate. Lucy gave the younger girl a sultry gaze. She didn’t need to be told twice. “Of course. I’ll take care of you.”
She kissed Alessia’s lips one last time, before she began to snake down her long body. But she had to stop off quickly. She took Alessia’s painfully perked nipple into her mouth, sucking gently.
“Fuck, oh my god. Lucyyy.”
Lucy was shocked when she heard the curse fall from the blondes mouth. She almost stopped her actions, thinking she had hurt the girl, until she felt her hips rolls. She had never heard the younger girl swear in all her years of knowing her, but she was definitely a fan of it.
She brought her hand up to Alessia’s other nipple, gently teasing it with her dexterous fingers. She switched sides, giving the other nipple the attention it deserved. Alessia was panting hard, as the brunette licked and sucked at her perked flesh.
She slowly started to proceed downwards, kissing Alessia’s own strong abs, and what a beautiful site it was. She sucked at her skin, leaving small red marks behind.
Alessia was loosing it, she felt like she was going to come just from Lucy’s kissing alone, like a horny teenage boy who had no control. Lucy sat up between Alessia’s long firm legs, looking down at the mess of a girl. She was truly frazzled.
Lucy began to pull the blondes thongs off, she could feel how wet she was, as the clothing stuck to the blondes lips from her own sticky substance. She pulled the now ruined underwear down her thighs and onto the floor. And Lucy once again had to hold back her moan.
Alessia was panting hard, she could feel her heart in her throat, she was shaking with excitement. She watched as Lucy was admiring her body, she looked at her with so much care. Even though she was the one going slow with her, it felt like she was just as excited and turned on as Alessia.
She didn’t feel shy from being naked in front of Lucy, they were naked all the time in the locker room, but even now, in this situation, she felt completely comfortable.
“You’re beautiful Less. I hope you know it.”
The younger girl giggled, she was suddenly shy.
Fuck, how could she be cute right now? She was about to devour the girl.
“Thank you Luce, so are you. I hope you know it.”
Lucy smiled her beautiful smile, as she lowered herself down between Alessia’s legs. She felt her own mouth water as she looked at the blondes very wet lips. Like Lucy, Alessia had no hair at all, she was waxed completely clean of hair. Lucy didn’t mind, as long as she could get to her destination she was happy.
She kissed the blondes thighs, but not teasingly, she just wanted to kiss the legs that scored that glorious goal in the euros. She kissed Alessia’s pussy lips, a small appreciative moan hummed through Lucy’s throat.
She then took her first gentle lick of the blondes pussy. A loud groan came from both the girls. She was delicious, Lucy’s mouth began to water as she began to lick gently on her velvety folds.
The sharp breath Alessia took in was almost painful, this was a whole new feeling, it didn’t feel real. It felt like she was having an out of body experience. Alessia held her breath, this was nothing like her bullet. She could feel every inch of the brunettes very talented tongue on her. Feeling the way it explored every inch of her.
The nerves on her soft flesh were screaming in pleasure, she couldn’t believe the feeling, it was what she imagined but a thousand times more. She could even hear how wet she was from Lucy’s tongue, it only made her wetter.
Lucy kept up the pace with her tongue, taking in everything that was Alessia. She kept her eyes on the girl, her facial expression was a beautiful site. She watched her body take in this new feeling, she watched as her hips rolled with her tongue.
She began to suck gently on her very sensitive clit. Alessia’s blue eyes popped open, a high pitched whimper began to fall out of her mouth. Her hips began to buck, she was already so close.
Lucy had to hold her hips down to stay in place, the girl was stronger than she looked.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Lucy.”
Once again Lucy felt her clit throb, hearing the blonde swear, it was erotic. She felt like it was something she wasn’t meant to hear, and it only made it hotter. She didn’t think it could be something that could turn her on, but the juices between her legs would beg to differ.
“Lucy, I’m…. I-I-I’m…fuuuck!”
And that’s when she felt it, she came, and she came quick. Her stomach tightened, her back started to arch off the mattress. Her muscles in her legs began to shake, she felt her climax spread over her body. It was all over so quickly.
Lucy was shocked at how quick she came, she had been between her legs just over a minute. The blonde couldn’t believe it, she covered her face in embarrassment. She could tell she was red, but she wasn’t sure if it was the shame or the way her body just exploded. She once again felt like a horny teen that couldn’t control herself. Jizzing at the first touch.
“Oh my god Lucy, I’m sorry. I-I couldn’t control it. It’s never felt like that before. I, god, I’m so embarr- ah god, Lucy!”
Lucy kissed the blondes clit, trying to distract her. She didn’t want the girl to be embarrassed, even if she did look very cute and frazzled. “Don’t be sorry, it was your first time, we can go again when you’re ready.” Lucy’s voice was husky and low.
Alessia appreciated her words but she was frustrated with her body. Lucy kissed the girls thighs, making her way up to her face, she went to kiss her but stopped herself, she wasn’t sure if Alessia was into tasting her own juices.
The blonde noticed the older girl hesitated, she wasn’t sure why. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was going to kiss you but wasn’t sure if you would want that, with your wetness on my mouth. Not everyone’s in to that.”
Alessia couldn’t believe how thoughtful Lucy was being, but there was no way she wasn’t going to have Lucy not kiss her. She pulled Lucy close to her face. “Thank you for asking, but I couldn’t think of anything sexier then tasting me on your tongue ”
She attached her lips to the brunettes, humming in pleasure from tasting herself. She was feeling more and more confident, she was shocked even in herself how quick she was adapting to it all, but she had Lucy to thank. “Can I do it to you?”
Lucy nodded, a small smile on her face. “But stop if you need to stop at any point.”
“I will.��� But she knew she wouldn’t, there was no way. She wanted to make Lucy feel as good as she made her, well, try to.
They swapped positions, Alessia kissed down the brunettes olive body, her heart beating hard in her chest. She smirked hearing the small groans coming from Lucy above her. As she pulled Lucy’s black thongs down, her mouth dropped open in shock.
She was hoping that she had made Lucy wet, even if only a little wet, but when she saw just how wet the brunette actually was she had to hold back the groan. Lucys lips were dripping in her own juices. She couldn’t help but feel proud that she so had done this. She even felt a little cocky.
“Is this all for me?” She parted Lucy’s legs, watching her juices glisten.
Lucy smiled, a hint of shyness to her face. “Yeah, I told you Less, you’re so good at this.”
Alessia smiled, she got comfortable between Lucy’s legs. “Let me know if I’m doing it wrong or you want me to do something different.”
“I will.”
The blonde looked at Lucy’s dripping pussy, she did what Lucy did and kissed her lips, getting her first taste of pussy. She licked her lips, tasting Lucy for the first time, the taste was different to anything she had ever tasted. It was sweet, it was sour, it was everything and more, and she knew she would always want more.
She took a bold lick into Lucy’s lips, she closed her eyes in concentration. Loving the juices that washed over her senses, she moaned at the sensation, feeling her own pussy throb. She wanted to try and do this right, she thought about what she liked when touching herself.
She dipped her tongue into Lucy’s folds, licking upwards, hitting Lucy’s sensitive bud. Lucy groaned, her head tilting back. She was sat up on her elbows, she watched Alessia as she looked as focused as she did when on the pitch. She couldn’t take her eyes off the girl, she looked like a natural between her legs.
She flicked her tongue some more over Lucy’s clit, she could feel the brunette getting wetter on her tongue. She kept up her pace, loving the brunettes moans from her moves.
Lucy couldn’t hold herself up, she dropped back, her chest heaving. “Less, fuck. Your mouth is amazing. How have you never done this before?”
The younger girl smiled internally, there was no way she was going to stop her actions to talk. She carried on taking quick, pointed licks on Lucy’s now very stiff clit.
Lucy would normally hold the girls head or grip her hair, to have someone control, when she could feel her climax grow. But she wasn’t going to do to that to Alessia, not for her first time.
The brunette felt her orgasm speeding up to be released but she needed Alessia to change her movements. “Less. Can you suck? Please. I need your lips on my clit.”
Alessia’s Bambi like eyes looked up at the brunette, she had been concentrating so hard it was the first time that she had looked at her.
And she could have kicked herself for not looking sooner, the site was something she would never forget. Lucy’s face looked stunning, a face she had never seen the brunette make before, a face she’d definitely try to remember for later on.
The younger girl hummed in response, earning her a jolt from the body above. She pulled back for a second to see Lucy’s pussy. Wanting to make sure she was sucking on her right.
“Just suck? Hard? Or soft?” The younger girls lips were wet with Lucy’s juices.
Lucy breathed out hard, she looked at the blonde, who looked devastatingly gorgeous, Lucy could see her wetness all over her mouth and chin. But the girl also looked impossibly cute, her head tilted like a puppy in question, her innocent eyes wide with wonder.
Lucy stroked Alessia’s hair out of her face in a gentle motion. The blonde felt a wave of warm pleasure shoot through her body at the touch. “Suck it softly, I just need more pressure on my clit.” Her voice was raspy. “You feel so good Less, so fucking good.”
She smiled shyly and nodded, determined to please the girl. She wrapped her plumped pink lips around Lucy’s swollen pink clit, sucking softly like the brunette asked. The noise she heard from Lucy was delicious, she felt Lucy start to rock gently into her mouth, loving the feeling of the brunettes movements.
She watched Lucy’s hands grip at the sheets. Not wanting to waste them there, she guided them into her blonde hair. Lucy felt the touch, then the hair between her fingers, she looked down to see Alessia looking at her, a mischievous look in her eyes. She gripped at her hair softly, she smoothed it back into a loose ponytail, not pulling, just holding.
Lucy couldn’t believe what Alessia was doing to her, this girl must have lied to her, because how could someone be this confident, this quick?
The blonde continued to suck gently around her sensitive clit, as her tongue also worked at the bud of nerves. She could feel Lucy gently push her head a little deeper, as her hips began to rock.
Lucy moaned as she felt her legs start to shake, her orgasm was building quick. She rocked her hips gently into Alessia’s mouth, earning her a small moan. “Fuck Less, the noises you make are so good, so good on my clit.”
Alessia did it again, but this time louder and rougher. That was all she needed, the noise vibrated through Lucy’s nerves, pushing her to her climax. “Don’t stop Less, I’m coming.” Her northern accent thick again.
She felt her juices flowing out into Alessia’s mouth, she gripped the blonde hair in her hands pushing her head down to keep her tongue in place. Her body shook, her muscles tightened, her eyes closed hard. Heat radiated down her body as that sweet release settled over her worn muscles, slowly bringing her hips to a stop.
She felt Lucy’s juices gushing into her mouth, she swallowed what she could. Alessia felt Lucy’s body relax, she looked up at the brunette, she was sure she came but wasn’t confident.
Lucy breathed hard, bringing her arm over her face. “Fuck. Less….fuck.” She left out a raspy laugh. A little out of disbelief.
Alessia smiled shyly. “Did you come?”
Lucy let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. I came.”
Alessia felt her pride explode, she actually did it. She was able to make Lucy come on her first time. Maybe she was a natural.
Lucy looked down at Alessia, her face was dripping from her juices, her hair a little messy. She looked beautiful. She was smiling like she had just won the World Cup.
She scrambled up to the brunettes face, ready to kiss her, but she stopped like Lucy did for her. “Can I kiss you?”
Lucy smirked. “Please, do.”
Alessia kissed Lucy with so much passion it nearly took her breath away. Alessia was on cloud nine, she knew she was going to enjoy tonight, but every second of it felt perfect, even if she did have the quickest orgasm of all time.
Lucy was making her feel amazing, every touch and kiss made her body vibrate. Not once was she regretting that she had asked for this.
“How do you feel?” The brunette stroked Alessia’s face.
“So good. I can’t believe I made you come. I’m buzzing. I want to do it so much more, I definitely want to do it again to you.”
Lucy chuckled softly. “We got all night, I won’t be saying no to that. You felt so good Less.”
The blonde reached out and kissed Lucy’s lips. Her self confidence was soaring. “Can we use the strap on?”
Lucy was a little nervous about this part, she didn’t want to hurt Alessia, or make her anymore scared about sex. She was going to take it as slow as she could. “Yeah, of course we can. We can go nice and slow.”
Alessia nodded bitting her lip in that sexy but cute way that she did. Making Lucy’s pussy wake up again.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy Less.” She kissed the girl swiping her tongue in her mouth, she needed to feel her lips. Those little whimpers she did every time made Lucy’s cunt spasm. “Right, let’s choose the right strap to use.”
Lucy had charged and cleaned all the toys so they were ready to use. They had bought a 6 inch dildo, and an 8 inch dildo. Both pink, as that was Alessia’s favourite colour. “I think we should go small.” Lucy bit her finger nails.
“Yeah, I think so. Do you need help putting it on?”
Lucy didn’t need help, she had done this many times before, but she wanted Alessia to feel involved, and she was learning after all. “Yeah, let’s do it together.”
The girls got the harness on quickly, the pink plastic appendage was sitting between Lucy’s strong legs. Alessia felt her nerves creep back up, she remembered the first time she had sex it had hurt. It didn’t help that she was wasn’t attracted to the boy and was dry like the Sahara. But she trusted Lucy, she knew she’d be able to tell her if she was uncomfortable.
The blonde crawled on the bed, with Lucy following behind, lying next to each other.
“Okay, please let me know if you want to stop at any point okay?”
The blonde smiled softly. “I will.”
Lucy started kissing her neck, working the girl back up, and of course it was working. Alessia was addicted to Lucy’s lips, they seemed to be able to make her wet instantly.
She kissed higher up her neck, gently biting the skin behind her ear, her breath tickling the younger girl. She whispered in her ear. “You’re going to take my fingers first. Then I’ll let you have my dick.”
Alessia’s whole body shivered, goosebumps took over every inch of her skin. Lucy talking to her like that made her cunt ache. Lucy noticed straight away.
She bit her lip nodding at the older girl.
“Good.” Lucy smirked.
Lucy snaked her hand down between Alessia’s legs, the smile that crept on her face was a little cocky, because once again the girl was soaking wet for her. “Open your legs.” Lucy’s voice was soft.
Alessia did what she was told.
She slid her fingers up and down Alessia’s velvety folds, her fingers were coated in wetness. It was the first time she had Lucy touch her like this and she couldn’t stop the groans slipping out of her mouth. It felt incredibly intimate, even more than when she was eating her out.
Lucy looked at Alessia ice blue eyes, trying to gage the girl, she slowly dipped her fingers lower to her cunt. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
Lucy gently dipped one finger in Alessia, she had no resistance, the girl bucked straight away, letting out a small moan. Lucy slowly pumped her finger, in and out, taking her time.
After a couple of minutes she added another finger, earning her a low moan. She felt the younger girl squeeze her bicep, she let out whimper as Lucys fingers stretched her. She was tighter this time, Lucy pumped slowly, pushing Alessia’s soft walls. The girl was taking her so well.
“Luce, you fe-feel so good.” Alessia squeezed on Lucy’s bicep again, she could feel her muscle moving under every stroke of her hand.
Lucy hummed. “Fuck Less, you’re doing so well.” She kissed Alessia’s forehead. She was able to go a little faster, feeling the blondes body getting used to her fingers.
She carried on like this for a couple more minutes, the younger girls small moans were making her pussy throb. The small wet squelching sounds coming from between Alessia’s legs were erotic. Lucy’s mouth was watering hearing the wet noises.
“I’m ready Luce”
“You sure Less? I can keep going if you want?”
“No, I’m so ready.” Her words came out in short breaths.
Lucy nodded and gently removed her very wet fingers. She couldn’t resist putting her fingers in her mouth, wanting to show off for the younger girl. And it worked.
Alessia’s mouth gapped open, she felt her pussy pulsate. Lucy started to shuffle her body over Alessia’s. She grabbed the lube on the side, smothering the pink dildo.
Alessia’s eyes were wide, watching Lucy kneel in between her legs. She glided the dildo along the younger girls lips, nudging her clit every so often. Each time Alessia’s hips jolted at the touch.
The brunette leaned on her arms above Alessia. She began to shuffle, lining up the plastic to Alessia’s cunt. She held the dildo in her hand, slowly, she started to push the head in, watching the blondes face like a hawk.
Alessia’s eyes were closed, she was breathing hard, she moaned as the head was slowly pushed in. She felt a slight pain but not enough to want to stop Lucy.
Lucy kept going slow. She kissed Alessia lips, wanting to distract her. She kept pushing her hips, the deeper she went the more tighter it got. “You okay Less?” Lucy’s thick northern accent was showing.
“Y- yeah, it’s a lot. But I’m good.” Her breath was shakey.
“I know, you’re doing so well though. You’re taking it so well.”
Alessia’s head spun, it was one thing to be told you’re doing something well from Lucy on the pitch, but to be told you’re doing well, because you’re taking Lucy Bronze’s fake dick so well, was a whole other level of ridiculous.
Once again, Lucy noticed her words effecting the blonde. Lucy felt like she was in deep enough, she stayed still, just letting the younger girl get used to the feeling. She kissed her neck, tasting the sweat on her hot skin.
Alessia’s breathing slowed, Lucy could feel her body relaxing underneath her. She started to pump her hips slowly, the blondes hands grabbed her waist needing to feel something.
Alessia was whimpering, feeling the plastic dick gliding in and out of her, she could feel a slight pain of stretching but it also added to the pleasure.
“You’re being so good Less, look how good you are. You’re being so good for me.”
Alessia groaned, she couldn’t talk, not when Lucy was talking to her like this, fucking her so sweetly.
Lucy knew Alessia liked to be told she was ‘good’ she’d noticed it years back on the pitch. She clearly had a little praise kink in her mitts, something Lucy loved. “Thats it baby. Look at you, taking me so well.”
Lucy pumped her hips slightly faster, pushing her hips in a little deeper. Alessia started to really moan then, her grip on Lucy’s waist tightened.
“Fuck, Less, the noises you make. They make me so wet, do you know how fucking sexy you are?” Lucy went a little faster, the noises between them were loud and wet.
Lucy sucked on the blondes neck, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that she was doing this to the girl, like she was almost taking her virginity again.
Alessia’s eyes were closed, Lucy’s words were driving her crazy, she could feel her cunt pulsate every time she spoke, every time she was praised. Her whole body was covered in sweat, taking the whole new sensation. She felt like she was floating, Lucy’s hips were hitting spots she didn’t know existed.
Lucy would have been able to keep this up for a while, but she also didn’t want to hurt the girl, she’d definitely be soar later on. “Touch yourself Less, I want to see your pretty face come for me.”
Alessia felt dizzy, Lucy’s hips were driving her into a whole new wave of pleasure. She heard what she said, she knew Lucy would want some kind of words back. She stumbled her words, her eyes half closed, just taking the grinding of Lucy’s hips.
“Y-ye…..yeah. Yes.”
“Good girl Less.” Lucy smiled proudly at the girl beneath her. It only made Alessia more wet. The younger girl snaked her arm down in between them, Lucy had given her enough space to move around.
She hissed when she first felt her clit, it felt hot to touch, her body was taking so much and it felt so good. She circled her clit, the way she always did, but she could feel the pleasure had heightened.
Lucy looked down their bodies, watching Alessia touch herself. Her face scrunched up in a cute, sexy expression. How did she do that?
“That’s it Less, just like that, I bet that feels so good.”
Alessia nodded her head, not daring to open her eyes, she wanted to have some control, she was scared if she’d look at Lucy right now it would probably push her over the edge. And she didn’t want that again.
Lucy snaked her hips like a pro, changing her pace to slow and deep, not wanting to over stimulate the girl. It also felt a lot more intimate this way, like she was actually making love, and not just fucking her senseless.
Alessia could feel the spark light in her belly, she felt the slow build of her orgasm rising up. She opened her eyes, meeting Lucy’s face, it was full of lust and pleasure. “Lucy. Lucy….you feel so good.”
Lucy smiled lustfully at the girl, she looked so good. Her voice was low and raspy, she loved the way her name was falling out of her mouth, there was so much want and need from it.
“Hmmm, you look so good, taking me so well. You’ve been so fucking good all night. You been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?”
Alessia nodded, looking up at Lucy with her Bambi like eyes,
Lucy kept up her thrust, she lowered her face kissing the girl hard, making her groan. Alessia was getting closer, Lucy’s words were pushing her closer to her peak, but she wanted more. “More, Luce.”
Lucy smirked deviously, at the girl beneath her. “More baby? You want me to tell you how good you are? How good you are at sucking my clit?”
Alessia’s legs started to shake.
“Or what about how good you are on the pitch?” She pushed her hers hips deeper. “You’re one of the best strikers I’ve even known. Every time I watch you, I’m amazed.” Her breathing was rough.
Alessia bit her lip, trying to hold her orgasm at bay, it was a move she also noticed Lucy liked, watching her green eyes dart to her mouth.
She kept her fingers working, she felt her orgasm rising.
“That’s it Less. Just like that, you listen so well, don’t you?”
“Ye-yeah.”
“Look at you, fuck you look so good Less. I think you deserve to come, don’t you?”
Her lip was being squeezed hard between her teeth, she had never felt this turned on before, she could feel her own juices dripping down her cunt. Lucy was pushing her to a whole new level, a whole different sensation for her body.
She nodded again, her eyes half closed, feeling her body working itself up. Her mouth slightly open, small groans escaping her lips.
Lucy went close to her ear. “Come for me Less, you’ve been so good, come for me. Let me see your pretty face.”
That was it. Her words pushed her over, her hips pushed her over, everything about Lucy pushed her over. “I’m com- I’m coming. Lu- Lucyyy!”
She let out a high pitched scream, her pussy pulsated hard around the dick. She kept her finger on her clit, pushing herself to a new high. Her back arched, trying to take as much as she could. A warm sensation trickled through her body, her muscles felt soft and heavy.
Watching Alessia come inches away from her face was a new bucket list tick, it was just added, but it was ticked. Lucy was in heaven, she had never seen anything as beautiful as this, no view, no sunset could beat this, ever. She caught Alessia’s lips, wanting to swallow her moans, wanting to taste her.
Lucy kept her movements deep and slow, wanting the younger girl to ride out her orgasm as hard as she could. She had to stop herself from pushing for more.
Alessia was in total bliss, she had never felt any of her orgasms hit her like that did. Considering it was still her that touched herself it felt completely different, it felt like her body had a whole new experience. She opened her eyes to see Lucy looking down at her, she looked as proud as she did when she scored a last minute goal, maybe even prouder.
“I cant even describe how good I feel.” Alessia’s voice was raspy.
Lucy smiled gently at the younger girl. “I’m glad to hear it. I cant describe how good you looked.” She let out a gentle laugh as she watched Alessia blush at her words. “I’m going to pull out okay.”
The blonde nodded. “Okay.” She let out a small squeak at the loss, she suddenly felt empty, her pussy was throbbing.
Lucy removed the harness, she watched the girl breathing hard on her bed. “Hey, you okay?” She walked over sitting next to Alessia, pushing her hair out of her face.
Alessia faced the brunette, she looked worried. Once again Lucy was being so caring and thoughtful, checking in with the younger girl as much as she could.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just so happy. I’m so glad I asked you to do this Lucy. I could cry.”
Lucy smiled, she felt so bad for Alessia, the fact that she still felt too scared to come out was heartbreaking.
“It’s all good cry’s though, don’t worry.” Alessia’s sat up kissing Lucy softly.
“I get it Less, you know I’m always here if you want to talk, I’ve been there. No matter the time or day I’m there. Whenever you’re ready.”
The blonde smiled, she felt her eyes water, but she didn’t want any sad moments tonight. She just wanted to enjoy herself, enjoy her company.
“I’m going to grab some water, I’ll be right back.” Lucy kissed Alessia on her four head as she got up.
A couple minutes later, the brunette returned with two bottles of water. She found Alessia lying on her front, her peachy arse looking perfect. She passed a bottle to Alessia. “Here, drink some.”
The girls casually spoke about everyday things, just relaxing in each other’s company. It was nice, everything was relaxed and peaceful, nothing forced or awkward.
“So, am I allowed to use the strap on you?”
Lucy playfully smiled at the blonde. A soft chuckle left her mouth. “You are, but don’t feel pressured.”
The blonde smiled shyly at the brunette. “I want to fuck you from behind.”
Lucy choked loudly on her water. “Ye- ahem. Sorry.” She tried to clear her throat. “Yeah, that’s, that’s fine.”
Alessia couldn’t hide the excitement, she bounced off the bed, grabbing the harness Lucy had worn. They decided to go for the bigger dildo for Lucy.
The brunette helped Alessia with putting on the harness but tried to let her work it out alone. She had to help a few times but she got the gist of it.
Once it was on, Alessia felt a surge of confidence run through her. She looked at the pink dildo bouncing between her legs. She looked at Lucy standing in front of her. she had a small smirk on her face.
“What’s funny? Don’t you like my pink dick?” Alessia giggled.
Lucy laughed loudly. “I wouldn’t say pinks my favourite colour.”
“Good thing you won’t be seeing it then.”
Once again both girls were shocked by Alessia’s confidence. Lucy had to keep it up, she loved seeing her like this. “Oh is that so?”
“Yeah, my pink dick will be going in your pink pussy.”
Lucy felt her cunt flutter. She wasn’t normally the one in this position but she did enjoy herself when she was. Most girls assumed she didn’t like to be topped so she would normally be the more dominant role. But Alessia clearly wanted that role tonight.
Alessia reached out to Lucy, she took her hand and walked them to the bed, just like Lucy did to her. She kissed the brunette hard, feeling her soft lips on her mouth was needed.
“Let me know if I’m doing it wrong or you’re not comfortable.”
Lucy nodded. “I will.”
“Get on your knees for me. Please.”
Lucy smiled, bitting her lip, it was cute watching Alessia find the balance for her dominating side. Lucy did what she was she was told, she climbed on her hands and knees on the bed.
Alessia’s mouth watered at the sight.
Lucy Bronze, on her hands and knees for her, waiting to be fucked. She glided her hand down Lucy’s back, feeling her spine under her fingers, making the girl shiver.
She brought the tips of her fingers back up to Lucy’s cheeks, gliding them down her strong thighs. “Fuck Lucy, you have such a beautiful arse.”
Lucy laughed. “Thank y-you oh my god.”
Alessia took one strong lick through Lucy’s pussy lips, then another, and another, until she was fully lapping at her folds.
“Fuck, Less. Fuuuuck!”
Alessia once again feeling completely in her zone, she licked through Lucys wet folds, working the girl up.
She felt Alessia’s tongue all over her lips, all over her clit, making her more wet with each stroke. Lucy let out a low groan, deep from her throat as Alessia began to fuck Lucy with her tongue, pushing as deep as she could.
Lucy couldn’t stop the moaning, she couldn’t believe the way Alessia had her whimpering, how she had her body for her own.
She dipped her tongue in and out of Lucy’s pussy, her cunt squeezing around her tongue. She loved the position she had Lucy in, like she was all hers to have. Maybe Alessia was more of a top than she thought. She removed her tongue, and began to suck on Lucy’s very swollen clit, the girl was dripping, Alessia could see her wetness running down her thighs.
The high pitched moan that came out of Lucy’s mouth was loud, she couldn’t hold it in. Alessia’s lips on the her clit like this was driving her crazy but the glorious feeling stopped suddenly.
Alessia stood to her feet grabbing the lube from the side, like Lucy, she smothered the dick generously.
Lucy was making small whimpering sounds, upset that she had lost Alessia’s tongue.
Alessia stroked Lucy’s back, in a comforting gesture. “Awww don’t be sad Luce, I’m going to fuck you now.”
“Fuck, Less.” Lucy was lost for words.
“Tell me if I hurt you or you’re not comfortable.” Alessia stroked her fingers through Lucy’s wet folds, coating her fingers in her juice. Loving the way Lucy’s body reacted to her.
She slowly dipped two fingers in to Lucy’s heat, only feeling a small amount of resistance. Lucy groaned at the stretch, loving the feeling of Alessia’s presence inside her.
Alessia slowly pushed in and out, watching her fingers being swallowed by Lucy’s cunt. She could feel her own pussy becoming wet again. She stayed like this for a couple of minutes, she was trying to do everything Lucy did to her, but as she knew Lucy had done this before and was more used to it.
“You feel so good Luce.”
“So do you Less, you feel amazing.”
“I’m going to use it now, are you ready?”
“Yeah.” Lucy moaned at a sweet spot Alessia hit.
The blonde pulled her fingers out, amazed at how wet Lucy was. Her fingers were coated in Lucy’s juices, she greedily sucked them, not wanting to waste a drop. Alessia looked at Lucy’s swollen pussy, dripping in her wetness, she wanted to clean her up, but that could wait.
She lined up the dildo, she watched Lucy’s body as she started to push the head into Lucy. “Not that hole!”
Alessia suddenly stoped, moving away from Lucy in a panic. “Sorry! Oh my god. I’m sorry Lucy.”
Lucy laughed. “It’s okay, it happens.”
Alessia felt a little embarrassed but pushed on, she watched the head of the dildo this time, lining it right up to Lucy’s cunt. She pushed gently, watching Lucy take the pink strap inch by inch. Alessia didn’t stop until her thighs were touching Lucy’s cheeks.
“Fuck Lucy.”
Lucy let out a rough moan. the younger girl moved her hips slowly. The noises Lucy made was encouragement enough to move her hips faster.
She held on to Lucy’s hips, keeping a steady pace, she watched her dick go in and out of Lucy’s pussy. She loved the noises she was pulling from the girl, she seemed to be doing the right thing with her hips, so she pushed further.
She moved her hips quicker, holding onto Lucy tighter, she watched as Lucy’s cheeks bounced with each thrust. She groaned at the view, Lucy looked so good like this, letting Alessia take her so openly.
“You take it so well Luce.” A sudden urge ran through Alessia, wanting to rail Lucy like she was her own personal sex toy, she wanted to make Lucy forget her own name.
Alessia was naturally a gentle and calm person, but right now seeing Lucy in this position, making those beautiful noises was driving her crazy. She drove her hips harder, her fingers dug into Lucy’s skin, she was definitely going to leave bruises but she didn’t care, she wanted to fuck Lucy like she owned her. And she did.
Lucy fell forward, her head hitting the mattress, finding it difficult to use her arms as she lost all self control.
The brunette couldn’t hold back the moans, Alessia was fucking her like there was no tomorrow and she didn’t mind it one bit. She had to hold on to the bed sheets, trying to gain some control, her whole body was being rocked from the taller girl. Once again the girl was stronger than she looked.
“L-L-Lesssss.”
“Yeah baby? What’s wrong?”
Lucy was sweating, she had to take what Alessia was giving her, she didn’t have much say, and once again she didn’t mind. “Touch me Less, please.”
Alessia reached down to Lucy’s swollen clit, rubbing hard on the sensitive nub. She pushed her hand on Lucy’s back, giving herself leverage to please the girl.
Lucy hissed at the touch, her body was going into overdrive, her pussy was clenching at every quick thrust Alessia was giving to her. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the heat going through her body, she could feel herself getting wetter and wetter.
Alessia continued to circle at Lucy’s sensitive clit, she pumped her hips in and out as fast as she could, watching the girl unfold.
The brunette could feel her orgasm coming, her stomach tightened, her thighs began to shake, her pussy clenching hard. Alessia’s skilful fingers were on Lucy’s clit like it was her own hand, touching her with perfect precision. “Fuck, fuck. Less, don’t stop, please.”
“I won’t. I’m here, I’m here.”
Lucy felt her orgasm hit her, her whole body became stiff, a loud moan fell from her lips as her body jolted. She could feel her pussy pulsate around the dildo, that was still pumping slowly into her.
She felt her wetness dripping down her thighs, she closed her eyes trying to catch her breath. She felt Alessia stroke her back, with gentle touches, it made her melt even further into the bed. “I’m going to pull out.”
Lucy just nodded, she wasn’t able to talk, she had been wrecked by the younger girl. For the 100th times tonight the blonde had shocked her with her confidence.
She groaned at the loss, she felt Alessia dip off the bed, removing the harness. Lucy felt her breathing calm, finally able to take a normal breath again. She felt Alessia stroke her back, the touch was soothing, making her smile in the mattress.
“That was so fucking hot Luce. I wasn’t too rough was I?”
“Not at all, I enjoyed it, a lot .”
The blonde smiled, she looked at the brunette who was still lying on her front. She began to kiss up Lucy’s back, watching her muscles twitch from the touch. Lucy looked completely relaxed, a look Alessia had never seen on the older girl, it was nice.
Lucy smiled, feeling Alessia lips on her back,  she let out a small whimper when Alessia hit a sensitive patch.
“Hmm does someone like back kisses?” Alessia’s voice was low and sultry. She continued kissing Lucy’s back.
Lucy groaned, her eyes fluttering shut. She did indeed like back kisses, she was in heaven right now. They stayed like this for a while, Alessia was happy enough to just worship Lucy in this way. She watched as the girl squirmed and groaned as her lips touched certain points on her body.
Lucy could feel herself getting wet again, she couldn’t help it, her back was her sweet spot. But she wanted to be the one pleasing the other girl. “Hmmm your turn. Lay down.”
Alessia laid on her front like Lucy had. Lucy shifted so she could start kissing Alessia’s back. She looked down at the sight before her, Alessia had one of the nicest and cutest arses she’d ever seen. She dipped her head, kissing one cheek at a time.
She heard Alessia giggle from above, she carried on kissing her cheeks until was positive she had kissed every inch of her skin. She took a quick bite of the flesh, making Alessia squeak.
“Lucyy!” Alessia belly laughed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Lucy’s smiled to herself.
She started making her way up Alessia’s back, sucking and kissing her skin. She could hear Alessia’s breathing pick up, she clearly liked the back kisses too. Once again she kissed every inch of Alessia’s back, watching the girl squirm under her touch, getting wet just from Alessia’s small whimpers.
She reached the blondes neck, her familiar perfume flooding her senses. She kissed her neck, sucking on her skin, causing the blonde to moan. She noticed Alessia’s hips grind against the mattress.
She glided her lips along the side of her throat. She breathed into Alessia neck, causing the girl to shiver, a small moan escaped her lips. She whispered in her ear.
“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, then I’m going to eat you out, until you’re screaming my name. Is that okay?”
Alessia’s skin was covered in goosebumps from the brunettes words. She felt her hips grind into the mattress again, she was ready for anything Lucy wanted to give her.
She nodded her head. “Please, Lucy.” Her voice was dripping with want.
Within seconds she felt Lucy’s hand between her legs, causing her to jump at the touch. She whimpered as she felt Lucy slide her fingers up and down her wet lips, purring into her ear as she did.
“You’re so wet Less. Is this all for me?”
“Ye- yeah.”
“God, you’re so good Less. You’re always so good for me.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes were closed tightly.
“Yeah baby. You wanna be my good girl don’t you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Good. I don’t want you to come until I say you can okay? I want you to last this time.” Lucy’s voice had a hint of a tease to it.
Alessia’s was soaking the mattress beneath her, this was definitely her favourite type of fourplay.
Alessia’s nodded her head, her eyes still closed. “Yeah, I-I ca-can do that.”
“Good.” Without warning, Lucy sunk a finger into Alessia, pumping quicker than she had before.
Alessia let out a moan of pleasure, she could already tell this was going to be hard.
Lucy pumped away, she leaned her top half on Alessia’s back, leaning closer to her ear. “Good girl Less, can you take another one?”
Alessia nodded. Lucy pushed in a second finger. The moan Alessia let out was breathtaking. “Fuuuck.” The blonde groaned out in pleasure,
“Do you know how hot it is when you swear? You make me so wet, it’s ridiculous.”
Alessia moaned in response, she wasn’t able to form a sentence right now.
From this angle Alessia felt tighter, but Lucy knew she would tell her to stop if she needed to. She pumped away kissing on Alessia neck and shoulders, listening to the girl moan from her relentless pumping.
Lucy picked up her pace, fucking Alessia hard and fast. She watched as Alessia took her fingers, her arse cheeks bouncing from her thrusts, she could hear how wet the blonde was, making Lucy groan in her own pleasure. She picked up her pace again, the room started to drown in Alessia’s moans. The sounds of wet skin and wet cunt was deafening.
Alessia was barely coherent, Lucy was working her body hard, her constant fingers pumping in and out was making her vision blurry. Then she felt a pressure she hadn’t felt before, but before she could think too hard about it, her body did something.
She was squirting, all over Lucy’s hand and wrist, she thought she’d wet herself, she’d never squirted before. “Lucy? I - I don’t -“
Lucy felt Alessia gushing on her hand, she watched as the warm liquid splashed out from her lips. The sheets underneath were soaking in her wetness.
“Fuck.” Lucy half gasped, feeling her own cunt clench at the site. “You’re a squirter.” Lucy sounded over the moon, she had slowed her movements but not stopped. She kissed Alessia’s back, clearly feeling the confusion from the girl. “It’s okay Less, you just squirted, it was fucking hot.”
Alessia relaxed a little at Lucy’s words, she could tell Lucy was being honest. She didn’t have long to think about it as her pleasure took back over her senses, Lucy’s fingers had picked back up.
Lucy’s mouth watered at the thought of Alessia squirting, she wanted to try and make her squirt again. She pulled out of Alessia gently, as much as she wanted to be rough with the blonde this was still all new. “Turn over Less.”
The blonde noticed how rough Lucy’s voice was, her northern accent sounding thick and heavy. She rolled on her back, just like Lucy asked, trying to move out of the wet spot on the mattress. She looked at the brunette, her pupils had blown three times the size, she looked almost desperate to get on Alessia.
Lucy didn’t waste anytime, she dipped her head in between Alessia’s long legs, taking a long stroke from the bottom of her cunt, right to the top of her clit. Wrapping her lips around her clit.
Alessia let out a high pitch moan, grabbing the bed sheets, once again her body was on fire. Lucy wasn’t going slow either, she was licking on Alessia’s folds like her life depended on it.
She was holding the girls long legs open, like she was hers to have, like she owned Alessia. Lucy knows she’s good at everything sex, and she knows exactly how to use her talented tongue.
She lowered herself to the blondes entry, dipping her tongue deep, she flicked her tongue as hard as she could, feeling the soft muscles inside. Tasting her sweet juices, dripping down her folds, Lucy was lost in Alessia, she wanted nothing else then to eat the girl out.
Alessia’s voice was turning horse from her groans, she watched as Lucy’s head bobbed up and down between her legs. She was driving the younger girl crazy, she would suck at her clit then move down the fuck her with her mouth as soon as she felt her legs shake.
Alessia’s hips would grind but Lucy would hold her down, she wanted the girl to last as long as she could, she didn’t want to give her any control. She wanted the girl to squirt again, she wanted to hear her scream her name.
“Lucyyy.” Alessia whined.
Lucy stopped her movements with her mouth. Giving the girl a very quick break. The smile on her face was devilish, her chin dripping with Alessia’s juices. “Yeah Less?”
“I can’t take anymore. I need to come.”
“Hmm I thought you was my good girl? I want you to squirt for me.”
Alessia bit her lip. Fuck, Lucy words were her weakness. Her chest was heaving hard, trying to find the strength. “I am.”
Without warning Lucy pushed a finger into Alessia. She let out a deep moan, Lucy pumped only a few times before she pushed in a second finger. She didn’t give her any warning before she started to pump hard, never rough, just deep and precise.
Alessia let out a deep moan, music to Lucy’s ears. She watched as the girl took her fingers. “That’s it Less, fuck you’re amazing. You take me so well.”
She wrapped her lips around Alessia’s swollen clit, she wanted the girl to come as much as she did. But she wanted to see her squirt one more time, she pushed deeper into her pussy, the wet sounds they made were loud and dirty.
She felt it again, like she did before, it felt like she was going to wet herself. She tried to squirm away but Lucy’s strong hands held her in place. “Thats it Less, good girl, squirt for me.”
And she did, she squirted harder than before. She felt Lucy’s mouth back on her, lapping her up, drinking her in. “Oh my god, Lucy.” Her blue eyes were wide. She realised Lucy was trying to swallow her juices. Fuck.
“You’re so good for me. So fucking good.”
“Lucyyy.”
“It’s okay Less, let me take care of you.”
She looked up at Alessia’s face, she looked wrecked but she still needed to make her come. She started to lick Alessia’s very swollen clit, gently taking her nub between her lips and sucking.
Alessia nearly screamed, she started to grind her hips into Lucy’s mouth, the girl finally let her move her hips this time. She snaked her hands down into Lucy’s dark hair, grinding into her mouth.
Lucy kept her fingers going, deep and slow into the blonde, she could feel her pussy pulling her in, she could tell she was getting close.
Alessia felt like she was going to pass out, she was sweating like she had just done a hit work out. She could feel Lucy’s tongue working her up, she was eating her out like it was her last night on earth. She could hear how wet she was, Lucy practically slurping at her pussy.
She felt that beautiful feeling, the tightening of her stomach started to stir, she grounded her hips harder into the brunettes mouth, chasing her climax. Her long legs started to shake, her abs clenched hard. Her mouth formed an o shape as she felt her muscles tighten.
She whimpered looking down at Lucy, her green eyes on her. Lucy stopped her movements only for a second. “Good girl, Less, come for me.” She quickly reattached her lips to her clit.
And she did, she came hard. Harder than she ever had before. She came, screaming Lucy’s name. “Lucyyyy.” Her voice was hoarse.
She grounded her hips hard into Lucys mouth, holding her in place, feeling her juices flow onto the girls awaiting tongue.
Her body finally slowed down, her breathing was ragged. She felt like she nearly lost consciousness with how hard her body had just worked. She breathed out a heavy breath, as she felt Lucy pull her fingers out. She looker down at the brunette. She couldn’t hold back the tired smile as she looked at Lucy.
Lucy kissed her thigh as she climbed up her body, she carried on kissing her skin as she got to her face. She smiled down at Alessia, her wetness smeared all over her face. “Wow.” Lucy’s smile was playful.
“Yeah. Wow! I can’t feel any part of my body.”
Lucy kissed her lips gently. “Was that okay? Nothing was too rough?”
“No, no not at all. I’ve never came like that before. That was, wow.” She giggled, her bright blue eyes had a beautiful spark to them, a spark Lucy hadn’t seen before.
Lucy smirked, feeling very cocky. “Never came like that before? So, that was the best orga- ahh.”
Alessia’s hand was in between Lucy’s legs, straight on her clit. Stroking her gently, she was dripping.
“You was so good Luce.” She bit her lip, her dark lashes fluttering as she felt Lucys hips move with her hand.
Alessia had a feeling Lucy liked to be told she was ‘good.’ Because Lucy liked to know she was good at doings things, that she was the best at everything she did.
She quickened her movements, hoping this was going to go the way she hopped. “You fucked me so good. No one else will be able to fuck me like you did.” Her voice was low, and lustful.
Lucy moaned, Alessia’s words were driving her crazy, she loved being told she was the best at anything she did, let alone sex. She groaned, pushing down on the blondes hips, getting the friction she needed.
“You’re the best Lucy, everything you did was amazing, everything you do is perfect.” She could tell Lucy liked it, so she carried on. “I’m going to be picturing you every time I touch myself. I’ll be imagining your face. I’ll be screaming your name.”
Lucy was getting close.
“You were so good to me tonight. So gentle, so kind.” Her other hand reached the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss.
Lucy moaned, she felt the warmth travel through her body, Alessia’s fingers and words were driving her to her peak. She grounded her hips harder. “Yeah? I made you feel good?”
“So good Luce. I’m going to be thinking about this night every time I have sex with someone. You’ve ruined it for everyone else.”
“Fuck. Less, fuuuuck.” She came hard. Her hips grounding forcefully into Alessia’s hand, she collapsed onto the blonde, breathing hard into her neck.
Both girls laid there, breathing hard. A mess of wet limbs.
Alessia was stroking Lucy’s back, smiling to herself. She couldn’t believe how natural everything felt, how easy it was, the confidence she had with it all. She felt on top of the world. And she had Lucy to thank for it all.
She felt her eyes close, just feeling Lucy’s skin under her fingers. Lucy’s breath tickling her neck. The girls fell asleep, both in each others embrace.
———————
The next morning Lucy made them breakfast, once again making the whole situation feel normal. There was no strings attached, no feelings involved, just their own personal love for each other.
Alessia got ready to leave, Lucy walked her to her door.
“I genuinely can’t thank you enough Luce, this has meant so much to me.”
Lucy smiled with her beautiful toothy smile. “It was my pleasure, if you ever need me again, I’m here. And not just for sex, but if you ever need to talk about it all.” She looked at Alessia with her serious face.
Alessia nodded, her cute smile appearing on her face. “Thank you Lucy.”
“But definitely here for more sex too.” The brunette chuckled.
Alessia laughed, she hugged Lucy hard, they stayed like this for a couple of minutes. Just holding one another.
Alessia made her way to her car, she looked back at Lucy waving, she smiled and waved back.
“See you Monday Less.”
“See you Luce, thanks for ruining any future sex for me.”
Lucy laughed hard. “Sorry, not sorry.”
The blonde smirked. “Maybe you could tie me up next time.”
Lucy’s mouth gapped open in shock. Alessia loved that she got the last laugh. Leaving a horny looking Lucy in the door way.
Alessia got in her car, making her way home, with a new bounce of confidence.
She couldn’t help but wonder what lucy would look like tied up.
Maybe a second ‘lesson’ was needed.
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camillelespanayesbtch · 25 days ago
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Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)
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Summary: It isn't your fault you like the feeling of power, the sensation was addictive, and although it never worked out well for those around you, it certainly worked well for you. You weren't to blame that people seldom survived attacking you, it was their fault after all. But you can only run for so long before your misdeeds catch up to you, and where will you be left after? It's dangerous to walk certain paths alone as a young witch.
Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)
Word Count: 4690
Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
I will block minors and ageless bios
Chapter One
You hum to yourself as you follow the marks you carved into the trees, a hidden path you had created that left those who follow you believing you were the perfect victim, blissfully unaware of the danger that followed you. You could hear the boys talking among themselves, their gleeful snickering as they think about all the things they could do to you now that they had you alone and unaware. Like most evenings, the forest was a cacophony of sound, there wasn’t an inch of space where there was silence, every crevasse had sound, even the ants clicked to one another to inform the other of the crumbs of bread that were left abandoned on the floor of the community hall that hosted giants. The leaves crunch underfoot, small twigs snapping as you step on them, continuing to hum the tune until you come to a clearing in the forest.
There was a space where no leaves were, a perfect circle that had been made over years of the same trick, black as the night sky is dark. “Look boys,” Douglas says with a grin, “She’s made a spot for fucking, just for us.” He moves closer to you, the others surrounding you as well, all of them giving each other encouraging looks. They didn’t believe the stories about boys going missing because every coven had tales like that, even the girls were told tales about their powers being taken when lured to walk the witch’s road, but everyone believed that it was just the danger of the road and not one of their own doing it. “I wonder if her tits are as big as her top makes them look,” Douglas says, advancing on you quickly, his hands twitching by his side as he thinks about tearing your shirt from your body.
“I’ve seen them through her window when she changes,” Clint says, “They’re small, no bigger than a handful, but at least they’re perky.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes glinting dangerously. This wasn’t his first time taking what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be his last, just like the other boys he was with- if he sees something he wants, he takes it. His mother did raise him to be respectful towards women, especially those in the coven, but she always spoke about you as being the exception. You were the freak of the group, the one people whispered about, warned the kids to stay away from least you corrupt them. So, really, what he and his friends were about to do wasn’t a bad thing, it was deserved. “We should take pictures and add them to the wall.”
“We should take pictures and add them to the wall,” you mimic, turning to face them. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to keep trophies? Or was that too much for your tiny little boy-brains to comprehend?” You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh as you shake a few knots loose. You were hungry, and these boys would be enough to last you a few weeks. Sure, they weren’t as powerful as the elders, too jumped up on the testosterone coursing through their bodies to focus on mastering the craft, instead relying on brute force to get things done. “Didn’t mommy teach you better? Or even your fathers? No, I suppose not. No, daddy left you boys behind, didn’t he? Went off to go fuck some young maiden the next town over,” you make a vulgar gesture, thrusting your hips before laughing when you see the group clench their fists in anger. “Oh no, did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do? Blast me?”
It would only take one. It only ever takes one, but they didn’t know that. Of course they didn’t know that they barely knew how to groom themselves let alone see the signs of a trap, to even see that sometimes there is truth in the tales they have been told since childhood. You mightn’t have believed the ones about the Purple Witch, but you wouldn’t deny that there is something alluring about her. The ability to take someone’s powers? You wondered what it felt like, if it was as addictive as watching people burn, using their own powers to cause their deaths. “Lucas and Clint, hold her down,” Douglas orders, his eyes burning into yours.
The two boys he orders raise their hands, their magic shooting from their hands and wrapping around your wrists. They both were smirking until they see the lopsided grin on your face, a darkness settling into your eyes. You breathe in deep through your nose, tilting your head back up to the sky as your eyes drift shut, feeling the warmth starting to spread through your body and bloom out from your palms, “Oh boys,” you exhale. “Silly, stupid, little boys.” Your head rolls forward and you open your eyes to look at them, a fire burning in your eyes that makes them take a step back. “Didn’t you hear the stories? Didn’t your mother tell you not to go into the woods at night?”
“She’s just- She’s just bluffing,” Douglas stutters, “She’s just trying to scare us.” He puffs his chest out in false bravado before moving closer to you, his hands coming up to tear the front of your blouse open, but he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back. Your body had grown hot to the touch, as though he had just put his hands over the hot embers of a campfire, “What trickery is this?”
“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” You yank your hands free of Clint and Lucas’ magic, grabbing a handful of Douglas’ shirt, and pulling him so his body was against yours, a feral grin spreading across your face. “Smell that?” You lean in, taking a deep breath as the scent of burning fabric starts to fill the air, “Maybe you can feel it. It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I wonder if I’ll see eyes explode this time like popcorn.” You stare at him intensely, your hands glowing like magma as you start to cook him from the inside out, feeling his energy seeping out of him and into you. You let out a content sigh a the sensation, watching as his eyes go wide, his skin turning a deep red before starting to melt from his muscles and bones. He cries out in agony, trying to get away from you, to put the fire out inside of him but it was of no use, and soon he falls to the ground, his body quickly going up in flames. “Now,” you smile and turn to look at the other boys who were looking on in horror, “Who’s next?”
“You’re a monster,” Clint says, clenching his fists, “He didn’t even do anything to you! We were just playing!” He was quick to attack you, seemingly forgetting what he had just witnessed you do to his friend. You eagerly drink his energy up, your body glowing like a reactor before his body turns into barbecue. He claws at his clothes, trying to remove the flaming fabric from his body as he writhes on the ground, his screams drowning out the music of songbirds. You wonder if the woods would muffle the sound so it didn’t carry to the houses that lived along the edge of it, that the neighbors wouldn’t have their windows open to let the warm spring breeze in. Then again, if you didn’t want them to hear, you simply shouldn’t be doing what you are, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You enjoy it too much. You enjoy luring men into the woods, using their own powers to burn them alive as some sort of penance for all the women burned before you because their power was seen as a threat.
You take a few breaths to calm yourself, looking at your hands, they were turning black, tendrils creeping up your forearm and tickling your inner-elbow. This happened every time, the only evidence of your crimes. They were easy to hide though, you wore long-sleeves, and had a pair of gloves that your mother gave you to protect you from the judgmental gaze of your coven. Your mother wasn’t consciously aware of what you were doing, thinking you were just going into the woods to practice your craft, but she couldn’t deny it was suspicious that boys kept going missing whenever you did.
The remaining boys fall quickly, you wave your hands, letting out a hot blast of fire that turns their remains to ash. You knew the rain would disperse the ashes, returning them to the earth and helping to keep the forest alive, although your circle never grew back- the grass has remained dead and black for years. You were in your twenties now, and you had been doing this since you were sixteen. You do the buttons back up on your blouse then pull your sleeves down, doing the cuff buttons up so the sleeves wouldn’t go out of place. You flick your hair from your face, a smile settling on your features as you start to head back, humming to yourself once more.
As you walk, you stop occasionally to pick some flowers for your mom, making a bouquet for her. Your father wasn’t around to do this for her, not that he had done such thoughtful things when he was alive, that had always been your thing. You loved making your mom smile because it meant she wasn’t worrying about anything which had become her normal. If she wasn’t worrying about you getting in trouble, she was worrying about the coven being run out of town, and if she wasn’t worrying about that, she was worrying about taxes which only seemed to go up every year. It’s not that you couldn’t afford the taxes, she had been around for centuries, she had more than enough money to cover them, but it was still an unnecessary stress in her life that she simply did not need. If you could get away with it, you would burn the tax collector alive, maybe even roast him over a fire like you would toast a marshmallow.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A familiar voice asks, disappointment evident in her tone. “I tell them- I tell them every meeting that it isn’t you, that my daughter would never bring harm to her coven, and every time you go out and prove me wrong.”
You look up from the flowers you were examining, your features falling, “Mama… I- They attacked me,” you explain. “I was just coming here to practice, like you always want me to. And they followed me, taunting me, telling me all the horrible things they were going to do to me.” You turn your head slightly, just enough to see the open area out the corner of your eye that was a few hundred feet away by now before looking back at your mom. You try to smile, holding the sad looking bouquet out for her, “I picked you flowers. Your favorites. I know you like having fresh flowers in the house because you like when the bees-“
“Enough,” she cuts you off, “Enough,” she repeats, softer this time. She walks closer to you, a sadness on her face as she gently takes your free hand in hers- your skin was like charcoal, and still hot to the touch like the furnace in winter. Her heart aches painfully in her chest, why was her only child like this? Had she done something wrong? Those questions hurt her; how could she think so poorly of you? She loves you dearly, she would do anything for you, absolutely anything for you, why couldn’t you do this one thing for her? Her touch was soft, cooling your burning skin as she runs her fingers over it, your skin slowly turning back to your normal shade. She turns your hand over so your palm was facing her, running her finger in a circle on your palm, a small smile tugging on her lips, “Round and round the garden,” she whispers, “Went the teddy bear, one step,” she walks her finger up your forearm, healing as she goes, “two step,” another step onto your bicep, “Tickle you under there,” she says and gently tickles your underarm, a soft giggle escaping her. “You used to squeal whenever I did that to you as a toddler.”
You can’t help the quiet giggle you let out, unaware of the tears spilling from your eyes, “Mama,” you whisper back, “I’m not a little kid anymore.” She gives your arm a squeeze at that, looking pained by the reminder. You rest your hand over hers, looking remorseful immediately, “I know- I know I’m still your little girl. You still make my boo boo’s better.” You look down at your hands, they were no longer black as tar, and you could see the blue and purple of your veins on the backs of them instead of a deep red that glowed against the black. You felt a knot form in your stomach, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they, mama?” You ask her quietly, a waver in your voice. “For what I’ve done- They’re gonna burn me.”
Your mom blinks back tears but it was futile, the salty liquid running down her cheeks, “When they find out,” she replies softly, “Yes. They will.” She raises her hand to tenderly stroke your cheek, and as always, you lean into her touch. Her thumb brushes against your rosy skin, wiping away any tear that dared to fall. She didn’t know how long you would both have together, whether she could wash your hair and braid flowers into it, or whether now was the only time you two would get. “Why couldn’t you stop?”
“I can’t help it, mama, you know that,” you answer, your eyes closing as you relax into her touch. Her hands never caused the same pain and suffering that yours have, they have always healed and protected. There was never a moment where she didn’t help someone, where she turned them away when they showed up to the door pleading for her to make their sick child better. There was always a spare bed for the child or adult to recover, your mother watching over them during the night to ensure their condition didn’t worsen. You. You had always been the one to hurt, to harm, to inflict suffering and pain. Your mother, try as she might to get you to do things for the betterment of the coven such as burning the fields to return the nutrients to the earth, or helping start the bonfires for when there was a community barbecue, even trying to get you to take out the wolves that threatened the farm animals, but it never satiated you.
It wasn’t until you turned sixteen did it become a problem, but she brushed it off because you had been terribly bullied, she kept brushing it off when the first group of boys went missing. She had moved you both after that, found another coven. Six months of peace before it happened again. Every time, you would come home with blackened skin and a bouquet of flowers. She never had to worry about running out of dried flowers for her potions, the basement was full of them, your peace offerings to her. You always were so sincere in your apologies, and she believed you every time, why wouldn’t she? “They deserved it,” you add, “They were going to hurt me.”
“Not every single boy was out to hurt you, surely, sweetheart. What about Tommy? He was always so kind to you, he tutored you. You were friends.”
Tommy had been your friend two moves ago, you two had bonded over being excluded from most of the college class you were enrolled in, even the lecturer refused to acknowledge you in class. You both were good students, handing your assignments in on time and not once even asking for an extension. You thought you were just friends, you told him you only liked women, and he told you he was okay with it. You had gone over to his house one afternoon to study for an upcoming exam, the two of you were in his room on his bed reading notes when he had asked you if you’d ever kissed anyone before. The question made your skin crawl, “No,” you had answered, “I haven’t.” He got this look in his eyes at that answer, his hand had come up to turn your head to face him before he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, pocking and prodding your throat. You had frozen; your eyes wide as he assaulted you. It wasn’t until he had pulled back did the anger kick in. You don’t really remember much of what happened, only running out of the house as the fire department showed up to extinguish the flames, two of the firefighters checking over you for injuries. You had told your mother what happened, what he did, and she had brushed it off, saying it was just how it was done- nobody needed to ask for permission to kiss, it was spontaneous. You had cried in your room that night, you didn’t understand why your mom didn’t see why it was wrong of him to do that to you. She knew you liked women, why on earth would you ever want some man to kiss you?
“We- You know what he did to me, mama. He hurt me. He hurt me,” you tell her, more tears falling onto your cheeks, “He knew I didn’t like him like that. Every single one of them deserved it.” That wasn’t true, there had been a couple of groups you took out because you enjoyed the thrill of it, the screams, the feeling of power that filled your system. Even thinking about it now made you giddy, your pupils dilating as though a drug was coursing its way through your system. “You have to believe me, mama, please.”
Her hand falls from your face, “We should head back. You need a shower, and I’d like to braid your hair.” Her voice was cold, the older woman turning her back on you, not even taking the flowers from your hand. She usually hummed with you, the same song she sang to you as a child, but tonight the only sound was the owls hooting in the forest. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve, holding the flowers close to you as you follow along behind her. You hum quietly to yourself, looking up into the trees to see the glowing eyes of birds watching you. There was something comforting about them being so attentive, like they were looking out for the inhabitants that called the woods their home, even as they swoop on the mice that scamper across the leafy floor. It was the balance of things, and even as they eat the mice, they too would return to the earth and continue the cycle anew.
When you get home, your mother sits on a chair and has you sit on the floor between her legs as she starts to braid your hair, her fingers working deftly. She carefully takes the dried flowers and works them into your hair, willing the protection to keep you safe when the leaders come knocking. Only now does she hum, the strands of gold that hold the flowers in place starting to glow. She new deep down this day would come, that moving towns, cities, states would only get you so far because the tales that were told about a witch of destruction would catch up to you, that one coven was going to be smart enough to figure things out and realize it is one of their own. “You’ve always had such beautiful hair,” she murmurs, adding another flower to the braid and tying it into place, “Ever since you left my body, you had a mop of hair on your head. Whenever you woke in the morning, your hair was all over the place, and it would take so much water to tame it.”
“I’ve seen the photos,” you reply with a giggle, your eyes closed as you relax, enjoying the calming sensation of your mom braiding your hair. There had been times she had yelled at you for not brushing your hair, threatening to cut it all off if you didn’t want to take care of it. She had always apologized afterwards though, blaming her anger on something that had been said in a coven meeting as she carefully brushed the knots and tangles from your hair. “How long do we have?”
Your mother doesn’t look up from your hair, the wards she had set around the house were starting to crumble, only meant to slow them down, “Not long, my dear,” she picks the hairtie up and ties the braid off, securing a crystal in with it. “There,” she says, running her hand lightly over her work before you turn to look at her, your eyes holding the light of a thousand flames, “My beautiful girl. If you survive, you know you must never return.” Her hand caresses your cheek, her eyes held the river of life which you always loved looking into because you could feel the cool refreshing water wash over you, keeping you calm.
“I can’t leave you behind, mama. I can’t- I promised you that I would look after you,” you rest your hand over hers, they were the perfect balance. It always made you laugh how whenever her hands were cold, yours were burning hot, and on the rare occasion hers were warm, yours were colder than the glacier high in the mountains. You didn’t want to leave her behind, she would be an outcast unless she participated in your execution which she was unlikely to do because despite everything you have put her through, she still loves you and you knew there was nothing stronger than a mother’s love. “I can’t go without you.”
“You have to, sweetheart. You must find your own path, in a coven that will understand you,” she pulls back from you when the front door flies open, standing up she calls out to them. “She’s in here!”  She looks at you, pain visible in her eyes, “She killed them! I saw it with my own eyes. No daughter of mine shall harm our coven.”
You felt your spirit break, unable to realize she was doing this for a reason, to keep herself safe, to keep you safe from seeing her harmed. “Mama-“ You start, struggling against the witches as they bind you with their magic, “Mama, please,” you beg, “Please don’t let them do this to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do it, mama.” The women haul you to your feet, the magic tightening around your wrists behind your back, cutting off the circulation to your hands.
“I saw the look in your eyes, Yn. You enjoyed it.” She follows the other women out of the house, the path to the stake lined with other members of the coven holding burning torches. “I’ll bind her to the stake,” your mother tells the women, “To make up for what I have done. I have let this coven down too many times before, I won’t let it happen again.” Her magic felt different this time as it wraps itself around you, your hands pulled taut behind the stake, the cold no longer soothing, instead it felt icy, the frost burning your skin. She couldn’t look you in the eyes, she didn’t want you to see how much this was hurting her, and she didn’t want to see how betrayed you looked as she prepared to watch her daughter burn.
“I never thought I’d see the day, Theodora,” the elder-witch comments, “Preparing to burn your own flesh and blood after so long of defending her. Had this evening turned out differently, you would be on that stake along with her, there is no doubt about that.” She gestures for the others to surround you, a group of six women all part of the higher counsel, and every single one of them deeming you guilty. There was no room in their coven for someone like you, someone so dangerous, someone without remorse. Were they unbiased in their judgement? Four of them were not, all having lost a son to you. The other two had daughters, but even they feared that one day your hatred would spread to women. Although whenever their daughters had caught a glimpse of you, their cheeks turned as red as a rose, and a carefree giggle escaped them which they thought was arguably worse. “Get into position, Theodora. It’s time.”
“Mama please,” you beg, “Please. I didn’t mean to. I can’t control it. Please.” You look at her, desperate for her to believe you one last time, “Please, mama. Tell them. Tell them that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t mean to. That they hurt me too.”
Your mother wanted to stroke your cheek one last time, to wipe your tears away but she couldn’t do that, not anymore. She breathes you in, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo you used before stepping down from the platform and joining the other women encircling you. “I should have let you burn the first time,” is all she says.
The elder-witch gives a nod, everyone raising their hands in preparation, “Begin!” She commands, their powers shooting out of their hands and hitting you full force, a pained scream tearing itself from your throat. It felt like your insides were being roasted, your skin prickling from the heat. It was agony, you had never felt anything like this before and you wanted it to stop.
“Please!” You scream, your head falling back against the stake, “Stop! I can’t-“ You could feel that familiar sensation starting to build in your stomach, and it wouldn’t be long until it broke free. “Mama- Mama run!” Your face was wet with tears, your head tipping forward, your eyes making contact with your mom’s. She couldn’t run, you both knew this, but you hoped this last time she would break the rules for you. The binding around your wrist starts falter, the women behind you noticing it.
“Elder- Her bindings! She’s going to break free!” One of them exclaims yet she does not stop her attack on you, none of them do because they hoped that if they continued, you would finally burn.
The elder-witch encourages them to push through it, “She is glowing! We are close! Keep going!” Your mother knew what was about to happen, finally she meets your eyes, mouthing an apology to you before the blast happens, all the women letting out agonizing screams as the fall to the ground ablaze. You slump somewhat against the wooden stake, your hair blowing in the draft created from the fires, your skin flush a deep red and your hands glowing brighter than the sun. You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t mean to, you begged for them not to do this. You warned them you couldn’t control it. You were going to wallow in that feeling until you remembered your mother. You look around frantically, counting the bodies: seven. Your mother-
“Mama-“ You jump down from the pedestal and rush over to where she had last been, sinking to your knees as you desperately try and put out the flames. She was unrecognizable, her skin blackened and burned. “Mama, I’m sorry,” you sob, cradling her burnt body close to you. She was the only person to look out for you, the only one to have stood by your side, and you had repaid her by killing her. Your tears drip from your chin and onto her corpse, the tears evaporating before they even touch her skin. You look down at her, “I’m sorry.”
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saturnville · 15 days ago
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georgia peach.
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pairing: lewis hamilton x black oc (lola monroe) summary: he's a boy from london. she's a girl from georgia, and she's a sight to behold. warnings: none. reference: georgia peach by latto tags: @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @ggaslyp1 @neewrites @cocobutterqwueen an: we may expand on this, we may not. depends on the reception of it all. enjoy
The lights were dim. The air was thick with the smell of expensive champagne, spilled Crown Royal, and the low hum of conversation and loud laughs among the guest’s inhabitants. It was another spring night among socialites, close friends, and acquaintances. A get-together to welcome the warm weather and good vibes. It just so happened to have fallen on a day when he won the race. The thrill of victory seemed routine; ass-kissers and loud claps on his back and shoulders of pride and congratulations. Not much seemed to change. Until she walked in. 
The room seemed to tilt the moment her silhouette appeared in the doorway. His head snapped to the entrance, and for a moment, the chaos of the function faded into the background. He was unfamiliar with her, but she was nothing like the women who usually orbited his world. There was a southern sway in her walk that was slow, deliberate, and oozing with confidence. Her hips curved in ways that made his heart race, and the sparkle from the grillz that adorned her teeth caught the low light, matching his own. 
Then, she spoke.
“Y’all out here celebrating without me?” Her voice was a melody of sweet Southern charm, the accent like honey on his ears.
He had seen her, but never like this. The rumors floated around about her—some girl from Georgia who had recently taken the marketing world by storm—but he had never paid much attention. Tonight, though, she was all he could see.
Lewis tried to remain composed, but when her eyes met his, a slow smile curled her lips, revealing those grillz. Damn. She wore them better than he ever could. She was temptation incarnate, and he knew he was in trouble the moment she began to walk toward him, her scent intoxicatingly close. Every step she took seemed to pull him further into her orbit, until they were standing face to face, inches apart.
“I hear you’re the man of the hour.” Her tone was teasing, like she already knew the effect she had on him. “Congratulations.”
His usual quick wit abandoned him. He nodded, eyes fixated on hers. He couldn't help but notice the way her lips parted slightly as she spoke, the smooth cadence of her voice. The thickness of her lip gloss caught his eye. And her curves, unapologetically bold, made his palms itch. He wanted to reach out, to feel if the softness he imagined matched what he saw.
"That’s what they say." He finally managed, his voice a little rougher than intended.
She smirked, catching him in a moment of weakness. "You gonna stand there all night, or offer me a drink?"
Lewis chuckled. “What’s your preference?” He led her to the bar which was littered with half-empty glasses and covered with sticky liquid, sugar, and failed date requests. The smell was strong, to which he grimanced. She raised an eyebrow. “Not a drinker?” 
Lewis shook his head. “Gave it up a while ago.”
She nodded once. She, too, gave up drinking, at least frequently some time ago. She had the party phase during her undergraduate and graduate days, but one day after her 30th birthday, she decided she’d only drink twice a month in social settings, with a limit of one drink. She couldn’t believe she was using her last drink pass of the month and it was only the 17th, but for a chance to see how far under his skin she could get, she’d take it. 
“Understood. I’ll take a lemon drop.” She kept her eyes on him as he interacted with the bartender on her behalf. “Thank you.” 
“So,” he started cooly. “I see your face. Don’t know your name.” 
She paused to thank the bartender, took a sip, and moaned lowly. Lewis closed his eyes momentarily. To hear that sound once again. It was quiet, but it managed to rumble his loins. “Lola Monroe,” she said after some time. 
“Lola Monroe.” Lewis tasted her name on his tongue. Savory with a hint of sweetness. There must have been some lingering beneath her seemingly hard exterior. “That’s pretty. Real pretty."
“Thank you,” she replied bashfully. She recovered quickly and brought the glass to her lips, her gaze trained on his as the rim covered the lower half of her face. Her dark eyes bore into his, and he could feel his inhibitions slipping. Her eyes were beautiful, a dark shade of brown with hints of honey that one might mistake for flirtation. She had long eyelashes, too. With every bat of them, Lewis’s knees nearly buckled. She knew how to sweep a man off his feet. 
Lewis cleared his throat and took a step toward her. He studied her reaction. She hadn’t moved an inch. “You always hold staring contests with the guys you see?” 
Lola’s lips curled into a smirk as she lowered her glass, maintaining eye contact. The corners of her mouth hinted at the mischief that swirled through her mind. She was aware of her actions. He knew it. She knew it. She tilted her head slightly, her voice low and laced with a challenge. 
“Only those who look like them can be taken down a notch…or two.” That thick, Southern draw wrapped around her words like a warm hug, but the underlying confidence did not go unnoticed. 
Lewis’s interest piqued. Not only was this woman a whirlwind, but she was not phased by him, his status, or the money in his pocket. In fact, it wasn’t of interest at all. She found joy in interacting with him as if he was just a regular guy. That drew him in. 
“Is that right?” He leaned in, testing her boundaries. His lips parted as his tongue circled on the grillz that covered his teeth. Her eyes lowered. “Are you sure you want to keep testing me, Lola?”
Lola brought her lips to the glass again, this time making sure she had his attention as her tongue caressed the rim. “Do you think you’re the only one capable of a challenge, Mr. Hamilton?” Yet again, her tone and demeanor showed she wasn’t phased by him. The tension was there, and it cut like a knife. 
The race chuckled lowly. He tried to keep his cool; he indeed did, but the attraction was undeniable. The women he’d seen were diverse, but Lola Monroe was something else. She was a force.
“Is that what you think?” His voice dropped lower, teasing the air between them. She looked him up and down, taking in his jawline and the intensity in his eyes. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips as she leaned closer, her voice dropping even lower. Her lips brushed against his ear as she said, “I don’t think. I know.”
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wardenparker · 11 months ago
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New Year's Surprise
Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨
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"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.
Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.
It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”
“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”
“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.
“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”
“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?
******
While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.
“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”
“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”
“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.
“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.
“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.
You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”
“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”
“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.
“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.
“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.
“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.
“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”
"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.
His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”
"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."
“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”
"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.
“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .
“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”
"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.
Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”
"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.
“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”
"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"
“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”
Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."
He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”
"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."
Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.
It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.
Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.
"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."
His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”
"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."
Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.
The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.
It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.
"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"
“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.
"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."
Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”
"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.
“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”
"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"
“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”
Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."
The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)
"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."
“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”
"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."
He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”
Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.
“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”
"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.
Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”
“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.
Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.
“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”
“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”
“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.
“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.
The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.
The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.
His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.
Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.
It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.
It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.
There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.
It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.
“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.
Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”
“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”
“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.
“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”
“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”
“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.
“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.
At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.
“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.
“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.
Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.
“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”
“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.
The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”
“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.
“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.
“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”
“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.
“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.
“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”
“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”
“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.
“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.
“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”
“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.
"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."
Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”
"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.
Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”
"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."
“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.
Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.
There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”
"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."
Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”
Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."
“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.
"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"
“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”
"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."
“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”
"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."
Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”
“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.
“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.
It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”
Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.
“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”
“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”
“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)
The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"
“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”
His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.
It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.
When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.
Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.
The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.
Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.
“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”
“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”
“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”
“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.
“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”
“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.
Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.
“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.
He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.
“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.
Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.
It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.
His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”
He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.
The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.
It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.
He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.
The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.
There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.
He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.
When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.
"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.
Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.
He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.
You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.
This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.
You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.
Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.
“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”
"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.
He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”
"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.
He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”
The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"
“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”
You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."
“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.
"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.
Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”
This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.
He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”
"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.
"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.
“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.
Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.
It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.
“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”
He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.
Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”
No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.
He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”
If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.
Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.
"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.
He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.
"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.
Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”
Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.
“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”
"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.
He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.
“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.
Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”
"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."
He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.
It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."
“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”
The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.
His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.
No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.
You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.
“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.
Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.
“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”
Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”
“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.
He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”
The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.
“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”
“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”
“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”
“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.
Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”
The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”
“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”
“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”
His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”
You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”
As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”
"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.
Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”
As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.
He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”
“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.
His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.
The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.
“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”
Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.
“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”
“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”
“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.
“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.
He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.
Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.
If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.
It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)
His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”
“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.
Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”
"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."
“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”
A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.
Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”
You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.
Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.
There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.
The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”
He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."
His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.
That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.
It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”
There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.
“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.
"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.
“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.
******
"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.
“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.
"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.
“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”
"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."
Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.
"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."
There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”
The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."
“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.
"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.
“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”
“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.
******
Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.
“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.
Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.
“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.
“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.
Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”
“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”
“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”
“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.
His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”
“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”
“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”
“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”
Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.
******
It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.
He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.
“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”
Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.
“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”
“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”
Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.
Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.
It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”
“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.
“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”
“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”
“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.
“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.
The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”
His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.
“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.
He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”
Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”
“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”
Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”
“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”
“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”
“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”
“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”
“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”
“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”
“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”
“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”
“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”
Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.
Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”
Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”
“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”
Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.
“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”
“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”
“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”
“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”
He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”
“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”
"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.
Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”
“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.
“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”
“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”
“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”
“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”
Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”
“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”
“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”
“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”
“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”
“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”
“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04
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summerlovingbaby · 4 months ago
Text
free show
Eddie Munson was the only dealer in the shithole that most people callled Hawkins. Most people thought it was perfect. Y/N knew better than to call it perfect. It was a shit hole filled with perfect little families, hidden behind white picket fences and the girls wore mary jane shoes and ankle length skirts. And unless you fit into Hawkins idea of perfection than you were shit.
Y/N lived in a trailer halfway across town and mostly ate gas station food. She hated Mary Jane shoes, preferred drumsets and  to books, and even though she mircaosuly graduated with all A’s she refused to go to college. She also liked smoking weed and writing music, and though Hawkins had alot of dealers, most of them were awful. Awful old men who seemed less interested in selling her good quality bud and more interested in copping a feel, so that left Eddie Munson.
All things considered it was convinet, he lived a couple trailers down and usually had good deals if you were nice. All you had to do was leave a note on his trailer if he wasn’t home and he would drop by, though he was usually home unless it was a school day. He had been her main dealer for the better part of 4 months, so they were now on a first name basis, Eddie even accepted IOU’s on 3 occasions when she was short on cash.
Y/N got home from a grueling shift at the dinner wanting to wind down, the Carvers spent their whole breakfast loudly insulting her, and their son Jason was a particular piece of work. First they didn’t like her hair, it was dyed a raven black with strands of white in the front. Then her outfit was much to revealing. Her mini skirt and lace stockings and platform shoes with a t-shirt and apron, which was completely in dresscode. Then her makeup was just too much, even though she was only wearing eyeliner.
She wanted nothing more than to come home, smoke, then crash until her show, but her shift left her much too wired to do anything, so she left a note on Eddie’s trailer, hoping he would be back before she had to leave for her show. Took off her skirt and put on some spandex shorts she stole from the mall, stepped out of her platform shoes and slipped on black knee high socks. She changed out of her uniform shirt into a oversized black Metalicka shirt that stopped mid-thigh and grabbed her drumsticks, and twidlded with them until she heard Eddie call for her.
She threw the sticks on the ground and skipped to the door to see Eddie leaning on the door frame.
Eddie thought Y/N was pretty, not in the typically Hawkins pretty, pretty like a moonless sky, or pretty like a crumbled-up map. Hawkins pretty girls wore too much makeup and dressed too much like grown women for Eddie’s taste. Y/N only wore alot of eyeliner, and skirts that were short. And Eddie had a thing for lace. Thats probably why Eddie’s eys drifted directly to her legs, covered with a nearly sheer black lace.
“ How much do you want?” he asked.
Y/N opened the door wide, letting him walk in.
“ How much you got?” she asked, picking up the abandoned drumsticks that she left on the floor.
Eddie realized this was the first time that he been in her house, they always did deals at the door, but for some reason she let him in today, and all he could think about was if she was wearing anything but those lacy stockings underneath that oversized shirt.
“ That bad,” he asked. His eyes drifted to the drumset in the corner. “ You have roommates?”
She followed his eyeline, “ Those are mine if you’re asking?” she said. Most people didn’t believe her when she said she was musically inclined. Her parents didn’t have a penny to spare but made sure she took piano lessons. And a guitar looked kind of like a piano if you turned it sideways and once you learned guitar it didn’t take much to learn the drums.
“ I got 3 oz,” he said, pulling a ziplock bag out of his pocket, “ but if you really want to party I have Special K,” he said, tossing the bag on the bed.
“ How much?” she asked.
“ $40,” he replied.
“ You’re lucky I like you,” she said, bending over to her bottom drawer, where she pulled out a wad of crumpled cash, and unfolded it, making one attempt to count it, before dumping it out on the bedspread, and counting it, mumbling numbers under her breath, “ you are robbing me blind, Munson,” she said.
“ I could give you a deal,” he spoke.
She lifted one brow, “ Oh really,” she said, she had been offered this type of deal before. Old men who preferred blow jobs to cash, she didn’t think Eddie was  the type, but then again he was looking at her legs with wide eyes.
“ Play me something and I’ll give it to you half off,” he shrugged.
She nodded, and motioned to both instruments, “ Dealers choice,” she said.
He motioned to the drums, so she reached across her bed for some drumsticks, then walked to the set and sat down slowly on the little wooden stools. People had asked her to play before, and usually, it didn’t take alot to impress people. Bang around a few times, even use the petal, hell she could improvise a whole song, lie about it and most people would be impressed, but for some reason she really wanted to impress Eddie.
She played a simple but quick beat, Eddie nodded along, and before he knew it the she stopped playing with a final thud on the cymbals. Eddie snapped out of his daze, and tossed the bag on her bed, using his free hands to covertly cover his crotch, because now he had a growing obvious and embarrassing boner. All it took was the pretiesr girl in Hawkins to bang around on the drums for a little bit and he had a boner.
Eddie had his fair share of hookups, had too many bad dates to count, but now all he could think about was if Y/N would be another girl in a long string of bad dates or if she would be the diamond in the rough. If the prettiest girl in Hawkins would give him a chance.
“ Well you know what, I’ll give you the 4 oz for free for being such a loyal customer,” he said backing out of the room.
“ Eddie,” she said slowly standing. “ You’re being weird, why are you being weird?”
“ I’m not,” he said stumbling backwards over a plastic plant. “ I just-”
“ Have a boner,” she said, staring at his crotch. She assumed it was larger than averge, no man strut around like that if it wasn’t bigger than most men, but larger than average was an understatement. The bulge in his jeans made it clear that small was no metric that could be used to describe him.
He watched her stare, and realized that she was just as encapsulated with him as he was at her. He smiled at the thought of her getting all hot and bothered with the idea of him, she not so subtly crossed her legs.
“ You’re starring princess,” he smiled.
The nickname seemed to spark something in her because she walked past the drum set, sat on her bed and opened her legs. “ Why don’t you come over here and do something about it?” 
Eddie didn’t have to be  told twice, he pushed himself to a standing position, and crossed to her bed in one large step. He grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a kiss. You would think, with all the time he spent thinking about her lips he would be more prepared for what they felt like, but he had no idea. He pulled away because the intensity of the kiss was all too consuming, but Y/N looked up at him and and batted her eyelashes, and he couldn’t help but do it agin.
He jammed his knee in between her legs and felt her grind down on friction. Her hands reached for his studded belt, but she missed by a few inches, and grabbed his erection through his pants. He groaned loudy, and she smiled, pulling away so she could see, and he couldn’t help but watch.
Her small delicate hands undid the harsh studded black belt and pulled it lose. Her dainty red fingertips pulling his button loose, and slowly pulling down his zipper. Before he knew it he was flat on his back, as Y/N had flipped him over, and was pulling his pants down by the loops, leaving him in his plaid boxers. He only had a moment to be embarrassed, before Y/N palmed him through the thin cotton. He groaned loudly, and rose to rest on his elbows and watch.
Y/N didn’t know if she could wait any longer, so she jerked his boxers off and stared at it with wide eyes. “ Jesus christ, Eddie,” she said.
He had a sinking gut feeling, “ What? We can stop?”
“ Eddie, it’s fucking huge. You walk around like this all day?” she said, she was honestly perplexed. She had seen her fair share of dicks, some smaller, others larger. But never this large, and she had never found herself intimidated at the sight of one.
“ Only for you honey,” he whispered, biting her lips.
She gleamed at the nickname and grabbed his dick, globbed a large spit on the tip and stroked it slowly. 
“ You’re gonna kill me princess,” he said, as she stroked faster, before taking the head in her mouth and sucking harshly.
It had been a long time since he got a blowjob so he unintentionally bucked into her mouth. “ Sorry, “ he whispered, “ Sorry, you feel good, damn.” he groaned.
She pulled off, “ it’s okay, just take a breath before you have a stroke,” she said, bending over again, and taking all of him in her mouth.
He groaned and unintentionally bucked as she sucked him down to the base, and fondled his balls with her hands, he lasted only 2 more minutes before he forced her away with a light handed tug on either sides of her face. 
“ Keep that up and I’ll finish before we get started princess,” he mumbled. He watched Y/N react to the nickname, so rose to his elbows again and cocked his head to the side, and smiled. “ You like when I call you princess?” he asked, “ you want to be my princess?” he asked as Y/N rose to straddle him, nodding rapidly.
She wanted to be his in every way, she wanted to be his biblically, in a way that is concerning to god. He grabbed her hips under her shirt, “ You want me to treat you like a princess?” he asked. “ You want me to treat you like a lady?” he asked. 
His hands squeezed her sides gently, and in one swift motion she was flat on her back. “ Some lady,” she whispered.
“ My lady,” he whispered.
She keened at the idea, his lady, his girl, Eddie Munsons girl.
156 notes · View notes
thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago
Note
Hallo! Hope you're doing good!
I can’t remember if you've ever written something like this, but check this out:
What if there’s a story where reader and Donna start dating, but reader's dealing with her abusive parents? Donna knows about it too, but isn’t clued into how bad and serious it really is. One day, reader shows up to see and spend time with Donna and has some marks on her body. When Donna sees them, she gets super angry, but reader brushes it off and calms her down.
Then later, they get into an argument, and Donna raises her voice, which triggers the reader. She tries to hold it together, but when Donna gets closer and reaches for her own hair, the reader flinches, thinking she’s about to hit her. This sets off her PTSD.
In the end, Donna calms her down and suggests that the reader should move in with her.
Thank you:)
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))
Save me
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse
Word count: 6,835
Summary: Sometimes life is like hell to you...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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Normally, it didn't take you that long to leave the house. It was just another procedure, going out the door, promising that you'd be back soon... For an 18-year-old girl like you, none of those simple tasks should be difficult.
But, even if you were really just another villager, nothing special, your family was.
It's not that you were a rebellious girl, you never were. You were always an obedient girl, devoted to Mother Miranda like any of the villagers. You didn't disobey, you didn't protest... You couldn't do it either.
The Black Gods were merciful, or so they said, although with you... With you, they were too unfair. Every day, all you heard were screams, unfair scolding. Your body didn't receive hugs, caresses, not even your ears could relax with some soft words of support, some that should come from the two people who gave you life.
Your parents weren't like the others. Maybe at first, in the innocence of your childhood, you thought that way, that severity could be beneficial for your future, but as you grew up, you realized you were wrong.
The blows were common, the screams were routine. No matter what you did, for them, you did everything wrong, you did everything to anger them.
It could be a good reason to try to escape from that village, so the Black Gods would stop laughing at you, but it wasn't. No one could leave that place. No one was going to protect you. Your life was already written in indelible ink.
You could only do what many of your friends did to run away from their homes (although due to reasons less logical than yours). You could work at Dimitrescu Castle as a maid, but you thought yourself so useless, you thought yourself so stupid that you didn't even try.
If severity served to achieve a better future... Where was yours? The screams, the beatings, made you start to believe those unfair words, that you weren’t a worthy daughter, that you would never be one.
However, you had another option, the worst of all. You could throw away your principles, the interest you always had for women, and marry one of those brainless peasants. Yes, that way you could leave that house but you didn't know what was waiting on the other side. You could improve, form an unwanted family and forget about your past but, besides the fact that you would never be able to escape from your parents... How could you know if that boy wasn't the same, or even worse than them?
There was no way out and the idea of ​​a loveless marriage wasn’t in your plans.
You thought that maybe you didn't deserve to live, that this horrible treatment was the direct consequence of offending the Gods. Darkness no longer belonged only to the village, it had taken over you.
Giving up was easy, the coward's way, but you didn't see that you had any other option. The Gods apparently noticed that change, that apathy, the bottomless precipice that your life was heading towards. To them, to Mother Miranda, to the Lords, you were just caged animals that had to accept their fate, no matter how terrible it was.
But suddenly, your life changed, the Gods played with you, making it worthwhile to continue listening to screams.
The youngest one, the mysterious lady in black who was barely a shadow to the villagers, Donna Beneviento, found something in you that forced her to come closer.
Maybe it was your tireless prayers for those dark deities to release you from your suffering, maybe it was the beauty you were born with, the desire to have fun with you that someone like her could have.
It wasn't like that. The lady in black didn't come over to play, she didn't scold you for your eternal tears, for your pleas, she just stayed watching you, like a bad omen, like a harbinger of darkness.
Little by little that routine was repeated, always in the same place, always at the same time. Your tears stopped running down your cheeks. For some reason, you wanted her to see you in a different way, to not be the sad and hurt girl you used to be. Her silent presence somehow calmed your laments. You had lived through too many horrible things to be afraid of her.
According to her, that was what caught her attention. Your lack of fear, your apathy, your relaxed way of seeing her presence, of feeling that she was close, were the reasons that pushed Lady Beneviento to come even closer, to ask your name and what was the reason for your constant prayers.
What at first seemed like a curious approach stopped being so. The old chapel stopped being your meeting place. And there were no prayers, no supplications, no tears, just something strange that happened on your face every time you met Donna and her doll, something that you started to do without realizing it: smile.
Smiles, conversations, even funny moments thanks to the Angie doll… All of that became your new motivation to come home every night, to endure the screams, the beatings, to wish for a new day to come, and to be able to see her.
Her beauty surprised you, her beauty lacking that horrible black veil, her bright eye, the face of a wounded and sick woman but that emanated pure beauty, emanated that feeling you also had, love.
Your first kiss was one more sign that someone or something had heard your pleas. She loved you, you loved her. There was nothing that could make you happier at that moment, the moment when the lady shyly confessed her feelings, confessed that she didn't see a friend in you, that she saw the woman of her life.
Sobbing, you walked through the forest, on your way to the old estate, like every day, and, like every day, you had to deal with the hell that was your home. Going through hell to get to heaven… It was a rather poetic way of looking at it.
Of course, your parents never knew and they never would, hopefully. She was a Lord, but… But you belonged to them. Telling the truth about the reason for your daily escapades would only trigger more blows.
“D-Donna?” you asked timidly, wiping away your last tears, erasing from your mind your father's screams, your mother's scorn.
“Oh, (Y/N),” the Lord's hoarse and soft voice had become a magic eraser for all your suffering, along with the elegant sound of her heels on the wooden floor.
The movement of the lady's black dress was always a hypnotic dance, one that forced your corners of your mouth to rise mercilessly.
“H-Hi,” you stammered with a smile that faded when you looked at her face, one that wasn’t like every day, she seemed worried.
“Tesoro…” she sighed, slowly approaching and cupping your face in her hands. “Amore mio… I thought, I thought you wouldn't come anymore,” she whispered, kissing you softly, showing you the reason for that unusual expression. “That you would have forgotten about me.”
The contact of her soft lips sent reassuring signals to your entire body, letting it relax in her arms, with her constant caresses.
“I could never forget you, Donna,” you sighed, burying your head in the black fabric of her dress, letting her chest serve as support, as a balm for the memories of the screams just a moment ago. “Sorry for being late.”
“W-Well, the important thing is that you came,” she said, with the smile that made you fall in love, one that was for you, exclusively for you.
You nodded slowly, hugging the lady and closing your eyes, causing your ears to be distracted by a shy laugh that emerged from her lips as she pushed you away.
“Aren't you saying hello to me?” a different, higher-pitched voice caught your attention.
Of course, the Angie doll also seemed happy about your presence, she was even annoyed that you were running to her owner and not playing with her.
“Sure, hello, Angie,” you said, bending down to be at the height of the doll, who kindly hugged you quickly with an evil laugh.
“Do you want to play?” the puppet asked, always used to having a fun time with you, or with both of you, if possible.
Seeing her owner smile again seemed like enough reason to stop making fun of you like at the beginning but… Somehow you started to think if that doll was more aware of your situation than Donna.
“No, today, today I wanted to be with Donna,” you said softly, getting up to find yourself again with the protective arms of the lady in black, who didn't waste a moment to have you as close as possible.
“How boring,” Angie protested, crossing her arms, but suddenly changing her attitude, climbing up your body in a comical way.
“Angie, lasciala estare…” the lady murmured, picking up the puppet, who had hooked herself onto your body, watching you from close, very close.
“Hey, you! Why are you crying?” the doll asked, being dragged away from you by her owner. “Donna, Donna, the fool is crying again.”
Just as you suspected, that doll saw much further than Donna could do.
Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, horribly jealous and possessive. The circumstances of your delay didn't matter to her. The furrows on your cheeks didn't attract her attention. What she valued was only that you had returned, that you hadn't forgotten her.
You knew her past, her sad and almost eternal loneliness. That cold and perhaps slightly dark appearance wasn't an impediment to your heart melting for her, rather it was an advantage. You knew that Donna would do anything for you, if she saw you crying... You didn't know how she would react.
“Oh, no, it's nothing,” you said with a fake smile, wiping your face clumsily, making the trace of those salty tears disappear.
“It's true, tesoro,” Donna said, frowning and coming closer again, gently removing your hand from your face. “(Y/N), you’ve cried…”
“Oh, it's nothing, really, I've had a bad day,” you lied, downplaying it with a fake shine in your eyes.
“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look, lifting your chin. “You argued with your parents again, right?” she asked with a soft, understanding voice, accentuating her concern with a gentle caress on your hair.
“Y-Yes,” you stammered, lowering your head, embarrassedly allowing a discreet tear to fall on the brunette's hand. “That's why it took me a bit longer.”
Donna sighed, softly kissing your cheek, brushing away with her lips the trace that your mother's slap left on your skin, the internal pain you endured.
“You argue a lot with them,” she commented, taking your hand and guiding you through the mansion.
Her voice sounded sweet, but in her words you could notice an accent that was perhaps more marked than usual. Those small subtle changes were signs, they were ways that Donna had of unintentionally showing an incipient concern, a concern that you wanted to get out of her mind.
“Yes, well, like all parents with their children, I guess,” you said with a sweet look, one that you had spent a lot of time rehearsing.
“Mm,” Donna murmured, pointing to a sofa for you to sit on. “My parents also scolded me sometimes.”
“Really?” you asked curiously, trying to identify your girlfriend's apparent concern, one that was becoming more and more evident. “I-I thought you were a good girl.”
“Yes, the truth is that I used to obey my parents but… Well, you know, kid stuff, I guess,” she explained in a relaxed tone. “Sometimes I couldn't help but get a scolding from my father for stealing materials to make my own dolls.”
You laughed amused, imagining that endearing scene in your head.
“But... I-I don't understand why a girl like you could get into trouble enough to be constantly arguing, (Y/N). Sometimes I think you're hiding something from me,” she said next, cooling her gaze, searching for something in yours, something she couldn't fully understand.
“What? Oh, no, no. I would never hide anything from you, Donna,” you said, knowing that you were lying, that the fear of retaliation from your family was always present even though they weren't. “They're just very strict.”
“Then I suppose you won't have any problem talking to me about the reason for the argument,” she said with a serious tone, with an attentive look, waiting for a rational explanation and not the usual lies.
“Well, I...” you began, moving away, with your father's screams resonating in your head, the questions, the accusations they made every time you left the house to see your girlfriend. “T-They don't really like me leaving the house.”
The lady in black arched her eyebrow and blinked in confusion, nodding for you to continue.
“They think, they think I'm dating someone,” you continued, looking away at the wooden floor, controlling the fear in your hands, your only defense against their physical attacks. “You know.”
“Well, that's true,” Donna said with a smile, moving closer to kiss you softly, something that made Angie protest, eliciting a soft laugh from your lips.
“Ugh,” the doll complained.
“What's their problem with that?” Donna asked, ignoring the doll's grumbling and taking your hand. “You're not a child.”
“Yes, I know, but…” you murmured, noticing how your body began to tremble, how all your fears materialized in an irrational way. “It doesn't matter, Donna, they are like that way.”
“What way?” the brunette insisted, with an impatient voice, one that demanded a firm and confident answer, one you didn't have. “(Y/N) stop lying to me, you're hiding something from me.”
“I've already told I’m not,” you said with a gruff voice, perhaps a bit raised in tone. “Besides, I didn't come to talk about my parents, I came to be with you.”
“Don't talk to me like that,” the lady growled, annoyed with your attitude. “I just want to know why every time you come to this house you're crying.”
“You wouldn't understand,” you said in a whisper, looking away again.
“Do they hurt you?” she asked in a different tone.
You should have known that someone like Donna wasn't easy to fool, but you decided to continue with the lie. You were trash, trash didn't deserve to be worried about it.
“No,” you said in a fake voice, with a tone that made the lady sigh and caress your hand harder.
“Mm,” she murmured, moving away and kissing the back of your hand. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you, you know that, right?”
“I know, Donna, but, but you're worrying too much. My parents are strict and that's it. I understand that they worry about their only daughter and that... Well, that they want who I'm dating.”
“There's a very simple solution to that, tesoro, just tell them,” Donna commented, nodding. “I'm convinced that if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.”
“No!” you suddenly shouted, waving your arms. “N-No, they, they can't know.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of me?” she asked, with a different look, offended. It was definitely not a good day.
You hissed, shaking your head. Poor Donna had many problems, many insecurities that complicated your relationship. You didn't make a great effort to act better, to make her see the reality of your situation. You knew that wouldn't bring anything good.
“No, Donna, I'm not ashamed of you,” you said with a dark tone. “But they are very... Very traditional. They would never allow me to be with a woman.”
“Sciocchezze,” she murmured, taking the hand you withdrew. “I’m a Lord, what they think doesn't matter. What I say and how I say it will be done, by the glory of Mother Miranda, do you understand?”
“I wish it were that simple,” you sighed, managing to hide a tear that fell down your face once again.
“It is for me, why it isn’t for you?” she asked again, relaxing her nervous voice, analyzing your face while her hands caressed it, removing from it the damage it always suffered.
“I don't know, Donna,” you said with a sob, something that made the brunette move away, changing her stern face for a soft one.
“Shh, amore mio… don't cry, I didn't mean… Oh, please, come, come here, hug me, tesoro,” the lady said with a sweet voice, pulling your body to lean on hers, so you could enjoy that ephemeral protection. “Forgive me, (Y/N), I didn't mean to talk to you like that.”
“I've, I've had a bad day, that's all,” you said against her clothes, swinging next to her in a silent embrace.
“Well, calm down, you're with me now,” she said, kissing you softly, wiping those tireless tears from your face. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's enjoy our time together.”
The tension finally dissipated, regaining some of the lady in black's sanity, leaving her uncomfortable questions aside and making you spend, as always, one of the best days of your life.
A quiet meal, a moment of reading together, a walk around the grounds. Little things that blurred your fears, that clouded your sense of time and space, something that wasn’t good at all, for you.
The clock struck the hour, just when those kisses and caresses were starting to get out of hand. You had never done anything further from pure innocent affection, and of course, making love to Donna was on your long list of pending wishes, but it was never possible.
Time wasn’t your ally, it wasn’t your friend. It was your worst enemy. That tangle of messy kisses, of naughty hands under your clothes, made you forget what time it was, what time of day it was. You hadn't come home for dinner. You hadn't come back on time and that would have consequences.
The lady in black was always understanding. Her carnal instincts to possess you were always blurred by your worried face, by your sudden escapes. At first it was a game, you were a kind of Cinderella who had to return before midnight, but, little by little, Donna's sighs betrayed more impatience.
Surely it had nothing to do with sex, surely what Donna saw, but at the same time was unable to find out, was your atrocious fear of returning to hell, to your home.
There were no lights in the old cabin. There was no trace of your tormentors. It could be that they had fallen asleep, that they had grown tired of waiting for you. That illusion made you smile, walking in the dark, with stealthy steps, to your room. You weren’t aware that danger always lurked around the corners of that house, always.
“Young lady…” your father's slurred voice stopped you in your tracks, making you freeze. “May I know where you're coming from?”
“Father,” you said with a sigh, lowering your head. “I've just been with my friends.”
“With your friends…” the man growled, finishing his glass of wine, getting up from the armchair where he was waiting for you, like a beast lurking in the dark. “Liar!”
“F-Father…” you muttered nervously, unable to move from the spot. “Father, please.”
“What the fuck have you been doing?” he hissed, suddenly grabbing you by your hair, pulling it back. “You're not fooling me, (Y/N), I know what you're doing…”
“I-I'm not doing anything, father, I swear…”
“Silence!” he shouted. “You're three hours late, young lady, your mother was waiting for you for dinner and how do you thank her? Disregarding her work,” he snapped at you, pulling your hair harder.
“I didn't mean to be late, I'm, I'm sorry,” you begged, hissing in pain, something that never worked for you, nor would it work on this occasion. “Father, let me go.”
“You're a bitch! You're probably fucking someone, aren't you? A whore like you is what she does…” he hissed, throwing you to the floor with a push.
“No, father…” you whispered in an inaudible voice, protecting your face with your hands.
“You're a disgrace! Do you want to be the village whore? Let some idiot get you pregnant? Be a single mother?” the man asked, bending down threateningly while you shook your head.
“No…” you said in a darker tone, much more dangerous than usual. A terrible idea. “You have no idea, father.”
“Do you dare to face me?” he asked, laughing mockingly. “Agatha! Hold this brat! She needs to learn a lesson…”
Your mother obeyed and the beatings began.
Your screams didn't matter, your protests weren't heard. Pain, humiliation, crying… It was all you could feel at that moment. Every kick, every blow acted mercilessly in your mind, erasing each of Donna's kisses, the softness of her hands on your skin, her words of love clouded with each of the lashes on your body.
It was always the same, always the shadows eclipsing your light. Every night you cried, you begged to get out of that place, and every night it was harder to do so. Donna would always wait for you the next day, she would always refresh your memories, make your pain disappear.
Could you endure a life in hell? Could you live misfortunes every day just for the reward of spending a few hours in paradise?
Over time, those questions stopped having answers.
The next day, the demon was still in your life, your tormentors were waiting for you to serve them like every day. Your whole body hurt, the marks of the blows stood out on your body, on your face.
Even though, as always, you were going to leave your hellish life for a moment, looking in the mirror, reality fell on your shoulders again.
Donna didn't deserve that concern, that feeling of guilt for something she wasn't guilty of. She couldn't see you like that, she simply couldn't.
She would surely be angry with you for not having let her know the harsh reality of your problems. She could take it personally at best. At worst, she would simply despise you. She would see you as a coward incapable of facing your weak mother and an alcoholic beast.
You couldn't take the risk, you couldn't put at risk the little happiness was in your life. You had to keep quiet, silence your problems, hide them, cover them up…
Taking the meaning of that phrase literally, you decided to paint your wounds with makeup, hide your bruises, your misfortunes. You didn't want your life to revolve around your problems, Donna's smile was the only reason you didn't give up, and you didn't plan on giving up on her.
Luckily, leaving the house was easy that day. Neither your father nor your mother seemed to want to interrupt you. Your body was totally sore. They surely believed that you wouldn't get far. After all, who would want to play with a broken toy?
“Ciao, tesoro,” the lady said, opening the door when you knocked, granting your lips the grace of a soft kiss, a strange caress on your face.
Your body trembled, suffering the pain of her soft hand from your hidden but silent blows. She would never notice, but even so, her face became thoughtful.
“I notice you look different today, (Y/N),” she said in a soft voice, guiding you into the mansion, enjoying the contact with your skin, one terribly painful, but that you managed to hide.
“Oh, well... I wanted, I wanted to be pretty for you,” you said blushing when the lady ran a hand over your made-up cheek, frowning. “Do you like it?”
“Mm, I like how you are, you don't need that absurd makeup to come here,” she said, laughing amused and grabbing your waist, a serious mistake. Your father's blows had reached that point and they hurt, they hurt terribly.
You couldn't help but writhe in pain at the contact, emitting a slight hiss that Donna, of course, didn't overlook.
“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, looking at the place she had touched, playing with your clothes. “What is it that...?”
“Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine,” you said hastily before the woman in black lifted your shirt to reveal the marks of torture. “I just have… Gas.”
“Gas,” the lady repeated with a distrustful voice, moving her hand away, luckily.
“Yes, um… I think, I think I ate too much yesterday,” you said, pretending an amused and embarrassed voice.
“Ha, you fart girl!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you mockingly.
“Angie…” Donna whispered, shaking her head. “Amore mio, can I do something for you?”
Get me out of this hell…
“No, no, it'll pass,” you said, downplaying it, guiding her hand to surround your waist again in a place your father hadn't marked.
“I can make you some tea, I'm sure it’s going to be good,” Donna said kindly, rubbing your belly in a motherly way.
You nodded with a genuine smile, stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.
“Stupid mortals…” Angie commented, walking with you to the living room. “Does your stomach hurt, silly?”
“Yes,” you said amused, sitting down when the lady walked away to prepare your tea with a smile. “You don't know what that is… It hurts a lot.”
“I don't want to know,” Angie said amused, getting off the couch and looking for a deck of cards. “Cards?”
“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Every time you did, your wounds burned, reminding you of that horrible night, making you unable to enjoy the time you had with your beloved.
“Uh… Your stomach isn't there, silly,” Angie said with a suspicious tone, pointing at your hand, which unconsciously went to your side with a hiss. “Come on, spit it out, what are you hiding?”
“Nothing, I'm not hiding anything,” you said with a firm voice. “I'm just tired, that's all,” you explained, taking the deck with your aching arms. “What do you want to play?”
“Mm, I don't know,” the doll said, sitting at the coffee table, with a slightly different tone, lacking the usual irreverence. “Let me give you some advice, (Y/N)…” she whispered in a soft tone, looking at the elevator hallway in case Donna appeared.
“What advice?” you asked shuffling those cards, leaving your mind free of pain, or trying to, at least.
“Donna hates being lied to, silly. Just keep pretending that nothing is happening, and you'll see…” Angie commented, making your heart stop.
“What do you mean?” you asked, nervous, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Angie, I… I don't know what…”
“Stop taking us for fools, you silly villager… You can pretend all you want but… How much makeup will you need next time?” Angie said, leaving you petrified again. “You're stupid, (Y/N), Donna may be stupid enough not to know what's going on here, but I'm not.”
“What…? What do you think is going on?” you asked in a fearful whisper, the cards shaking in your hand.
“Someone is hurting you,” Angie said. “Donna doesn't like you being hurt.”
“No, Angie, you're, you're wrong…” you said sighing, incredulous at her accurate accusation. “What makes you think that?”
“It's not the first time I've seen something like that in a villager like you. Donna never notices those details because she's stupid, but I do, I see, you know?”
“You're wrong,” you said with a shaky voice, dealing the cards the best way you could.
“Really? What if we take a look?” the doll said, lunging towards you to lift your shirt, something you immediately prevented.
“Stop, Angie, please,” you protested.
“Angie, basta,” Donna said, saving you from the undeniable revelation, the discovery that the doll was right, mysteriously right...
“But Donna, (Y/N)...” the doll protested, pointing at you effusively. “Listen to me, Donna, she...”
“Go away, leave us alone, don't you realize she's sick?” the lady said, taking the doll down from the table as she kicked furiously. “Leave her alone, come on, get out.”
 “Silly Donna,” she hissed already on the floor, crossing her arms and walking out of the little corner.
“What's wrong with her? Did she lose again?” the lady asked, carefully serving you a cup of tea, with an amused smile.
“I don't know,” you said faking a smile, reaching out your hand towards the offered cup. “Thank you, my love…”
“Drink slowly, it's very hot,” she said kindly, guiding your hand to rise to your mouth.
“It's very good,” you said with a smile, pleased by the bitter and smooth taste of the tea.
“Mm,” she murmured with a smile, looking at you intently, as if there was something that didn't fit for her. “But what have you done? What a mess.”
“What?” you asked confused as she came a little closer, looking at your face carefully.
“Tesoro, if you don't know how to put on makeup, don't do it for me, look at how you've put on, let me help you” she said, pointing at one of your excessively made-up cheeks.
“No, no, it's, it's okay, Donna. I like it,” you said, moving away the hand that wanted to spread that layer of makeup better, grabbing her wrist.
Donna frowned, shaking her head.
“Don't talk nonsense, I have dolls with much less makeup than you,” she said, insisting on fixing your makeup. “I'm not an expert but... Come, I'll show you how to do it properly.”
“W-Wait,” you said, staying seated on the couch while she pulled your wrist to get you up. “L-let me finish my tea.”
“No, I can't stand seeing you like this, you look like a slut,” she commented with an unpleasant tone, pulling you even harder.
“Do I look like a…?” you repeated with a trembling hand. “I'm not a slut.”
“I know, but,” Donna said, pulling you harder, managing to lift you up. “But let me take that off, your skin is beautiful just the way it is.”
“No, it's not,” you said with a nervous, abrupt voice, one that alerted the lady. “Leave me alone, Donna.”
“I just want to help you, (Y/N),” the brunette insisted, with her hands shaking too.
“I said no!” you shrieked, echoing off the old walls of the mansion, leaving the lady in black glued to the floor. “Leave me alone! If I look like a slut like this, then fine, I don't care! I like it! So leave me alone, Donna!”
You couldn't stand the tension any longer, it was too much. Knowing that Angie knew about your problems made your nerves difficult, almost impossible to control. You should have already known that it was a bad idea to yell at poor Donna, that it would trigger a terrible crisis, but it was too late to take it back.
“W-Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, frowning, blinking in confusion, slowly moving away. “D-Don't yell at me, please…”
“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said regretfully.
Donna's crises were usually random. They used to come out of nowhere, like a horrible curse. But they could also be triggered by anything, by a misinterpreted word, by a comment, by screams like yours, lacking sense.
When you realized your mistake, it was too late. The lady in black was breathing heavily, staring at the floor.
“Donna, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, I, I just…” you stammered, putting your hands on her shoulders.
“You don't love me...” she whispered, with a cold, dark look, one that pierced your aching heart. “You don't love me!”
“What? No, honey, don't say that... It was just, it was just a mistake and... Donna, don't lose your mind, please,” you said nervously, seeing how madness took over her gaze irremediably.
“You don't love me... You don't love me... Nobody loves me!” she screamed madly, pushing your hands away with a movement that caused more pain in your blows and an emerging fear in your nervous system.
“D-Donna, don't say that, I, I love you…” you whispered, approaching cautiously, trying to escape from her spasmodic movements, seeing how little by little her presence generated an unknown fear in you.
“You’re lying! Porca miseria!”  she shrieked again, kicking the coffee table, knocking over the cups on it, breaking into a thousand pieces. “You're a liar…”
That last hiss made you step back scared. For the first time that crisis wasn't horrible memories, traumas from the past. You were the cause and you didn't know what the consequences could be, but your mind was already working on imagining them.
“I-I'm not lying,” you whispered in a weak, horrified tone, one that didn't calm the lady's nerves, who approached you angrily, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt.
“You don't love me, I disgust you…” she hissed, swinging you threateningly but suddenly letting go, holding her hair tightly, complaining of an invisible pain. “Ah! No! Taci! Taci!”
Your eyes betrayed you. Her hands pulled at her hair as she shook her head. In a moment, her insane eye met yours, with a look that you mistook.
It wasn't the face of your beloved, of your girlfriend, of the woman who was the most important thing in your life. That bright rage in her eye belonged to your father, that alcoholic and deranged man. Fear rose through your body, paralyzing it, forcing it to only tremble in panic.
You began to run out of air, your heart was beating too fast. You were completely terrified.
“(Y/N)…” Donna hissed, reaching out an arm towards you.
You, seeing your father raise his hand to hit you, pulled away from her grip, running desperately in search of a place to take refuge. Sanity immediately abandoned you and you could only feel panic and terror.
“Don’t, don't hurt me!” you screamed while crying, while you took refuge in a nearby corner, covering your face defensively with your hands. “Don't hit me, please...”
The lady didn't answer but you could hear her saying things you didn't understand, fighting with herself. When that fight ended, you knew you would be next, that you would receive a well-deserved punishment for your insolence.
“Please...” you begged, closing your eyes, bringing your knees to your chest, waiting for the strong blow that never came.
“Donna, Donna!” Angie's screams sounded blurry in your mind, but you could hear them. “Bad Donna, stupid Donna! Oh, oh, eh, eh, don't do that, don't do that!”
“Angie...!” the lady screamed, crying inconsolably. “Angie…”
“Hey, hey, come on, it's all over, my Donna, nobody wants to hurt you, nobody insults you… I'm here with you… (Y/N) is… Where is she?” she finally asked.
“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, catching her breath with a scared voice. “(Y/N)?”
“Did you hurt her, silly Donna?” Angie asked, locating you immediately and running towards you. “Bad, bad Donna!”
“W-What…? N-No…” the lady stammered, with a much calmer voice.
Fortunately, the crises passed quickly, almost always due to your words, your hugs, or the infinite affection of her doll.
“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, crouching before you, gently pushing your hands away. “Amore mio…”
“No! No please! Don't hurt me, please!” you screamed, frantically, thrashing around in place and fighting her grip. “Don’t hit me anymore!”
“Did you hit her?” Angie asked, crossing her arms.
“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so,” she said, fighting against your spasms, against your illogical attempts to escape. “(Y/N), please…”
“I promise I’ll be good, father!” you screamed, even smelling the stale wine he was drinking. “Don’t hit me…!”
“Father?” Donna asked, letting your wrists go and forcing you to look at her.
Your face was covered in tears of terror that, unfortunately, took some of your makeup away.
“(Y/N), please react, it’s me… Tesoro, I would never hurt you, please look at me, look…” the lady stopped when her eye passed over your wounded cheek, making you blink in confusion as her hand caressed your wound. “Mio Dio…”
“No…” you sighed, crying harder, without removing the softness of her hand from your wounded cheek, burning from the touch. “No…”
“Who did…?” she asked with a broken voice, putting her hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), look at me, who did this to you?”
“Nobody,” you answered, burying your head between your legs again, pushing the brunette away with an unpleasant push. “Nobody!”
“Donna, Donna, the shirt, lift the shirt…” Angie whispered, pulling the dress, jumping slightly on the floor. “The shirt, the shirt.”
“Cosa?” she asked confused, kneeling on the floor and bringing her hand to your side, slowly lifting your clothes, gasping in horror when she noticed the horrible marks on your skin, the bruises, your wounds... “(Y/N)…”
You didn't answer. You simply writhed in pain at her cautious touch, shaking your head.
“(Y/N)!” the enraged lady shrieked, abruptly lifting your chin. “Look at me!”
You, fearing retaliation, obeyed. Your face was torn by tears, but hers seemed serious, serene, far removed from the previous crisis.
“It was them, wasn't it?” she asked in a dull, cold tone, with an intense look. “Your parents, they did this to you.”
“N-No, I…” you stammered, shaking your head awkwardly.
“You just confirmed it to me,” Donna sighed, taking one of your hands and caressing it gently. “Gods, (Y/N), how long have you been like this?”
“S-Since I can remember,” you finally confessed. There was no more reason to keep lying. It was the moment of truth.
“Mm,” she murmured, with apparent disinterest. “Angie, stay here with her. Don't, let her out of your sight, is that clear?”
“Yes, ma'am,” the doll said, standing beside you, watching you cautiously.
“W-Where are you going?” you asked confused when you saw the woman stand up and shake off her dress, walking towards the drawer where she kept her veil. “Donna?”
“This ends here and now, (Y/N),” she said in a dark voice, hiding her face. “They won't hurt you again, ever again.”
Her voice betrayed her intentions, ones you noticed, ones that horrified you. You didn't know if it was false devotion or some kind of illness, but imagining your parents suffering Beneviento's wrath made your stomach turn, forcing you to get up and run after her.
“No, Donna, wait!” you screamed, grabbing her arm tightly, something she prevented you from doing by moving in an unpleasant way.
“Lasciami!” she shouted furiously, gently pushing you by the shoulders. “Stay here, (Y/N)”
“N-No… What, what, what are you going to do?” you asked scared. “Donna, wait…”
“Stay here,” the lady repeated, opening the door of the mansion. “Obey.”
“No! You will kill them!” you screamed, making her miraculously stop and sigh, nodding slowly.
“Yes, I'm going to kill them,” she said without remorse. “Stay here.”
“No, Donna, please no,” you said desperately, running back to her side, grabbing her by the waist. The lady in black protested again, using your blows to make you move away of your own free will. “Don’t kill them…”
“Are you asking me to let the one who hurts you live? Is that what you’re asking me!?” she screamed angrily, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.
“Please,” you sobbed, unable to reason with her anger, with her desire for revenge. No, them dying wasn’t justice, it couldn’t be. You were better than them, and you knew it. “Please, I beg you…”
“No, (Y/N),” she said, watching you kneel down, pathetically crawling towards her. “I have to protect you, otherwise, I wouldn’t have the right to love you.”
“Don’t do it, please, Donna, don’t kill them… Please…” you said, humiliating yourself even more, grabbing her legs so she couldn’t take another step.
“(Y/N), stop… Ugh, cazzo, (Y/N)…” the lady protested, kicking for you to let her go. “I won't let those beasts hurt you anymore.”
“Please…” you sobbed again, letting yourself fall on the floor. “If they die, I'll be like them… I don't want you… I don't want you to do something that horrible, please… Don't do it…” you said with an even more pitiful sob.
Luckily, Donna closed the door with a sigh, lifting you off the floor and pressing you against her, letting the crying drown in her dress.
“Not you, please, Donna… I don't want you to be like them…” you said against the fabric while her arms surrounded you lovingly. “Please…”
“Shhh, stop, (Y/N),” she whispered to you lovingly, in a different tone, pushing the veil away from her face and cupping yours in her hands. “It’s okay…”
“Donna…” you sighed, grabbing the hands that held your wounded face. “Donna, I’m, I’m scared…”
“I know… I know, tesoro… But don’t worry, it’s all over now,” she said, cradling you gently. “It’s all over now, amore mio… You’re with me… And you always will be…”
“I can’t take it anymore…”
“You won’t have to. You won’t go back to that house, (Y/N). You’ll stay with me, forever. I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again, I promise…”
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littlefreya · 1 year ago
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Summary: Whatever madness drove this woman to board a pirate’s ship of her own free will was beyond comprehension. Yet there she was, in velvet and silk, marching toward certain danger and the sinful desires of the monstrous Captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker.
Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.
A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D
Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)
Neptune's Snare
The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker. 
Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.
Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger. 
Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death. 
It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl. 
“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.
“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”
“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”
The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.                                                                                                                                                
Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle. 
She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death. 
“Take off your cowl.”  
A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like. 
As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse. 
Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face. 
There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!    
“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.
“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan. 
She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person. 
After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.” 
Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back. 
“Are you a mute?” 
Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…”  embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”
“Captain,” he corrected. 
Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.  
The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment. 
It couldn’t be.
Perhaps she had the wrong man?
Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head. 
‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’
There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic. 
August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”
“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.
His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.” 
His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.  
“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.
“And you came to me. Why?”
“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him. 
August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second. 
“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded. 
She nodded, her throat clenching. 
August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably. 
Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart. 
“Ever sucked a cock, pet?” 
His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest. 
Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice. 
“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”
Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.
“What is it that I do, pet?” 
Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.
But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back. 
“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke. 
August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air. 
“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.” 
His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred. 
“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered. 
Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.  
‘Do it, do it now.’ 
Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun. 
Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.
“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react. 
With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy.  He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.
 “I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”
With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.
Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal. 
“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”
Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail. 
****
Chapter Two
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hindulivesmatter · 10 months ago
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Why Gandhi is a piece of shit and you should hate him.
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi has been established in our history as a "Mahatma" which means "great soul"
This man is anything but that.
He is EVERYWHERE. He's on our currency, he's revered as a hero who saved India, and we have a mandatory holiday on October 2nd in honor of him.
If you didn't know, now you're going to get to know why he was a horrible human being. Let's begin.
This man managed to fool people Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela (among many others) into thinking he was a good person.
Here is some of the shit he's done:
In 1903, when Gandhi was in South Africa, he wrote that white people there should be "the predominating race." He also said black people "are troublesome, very dirty, and live like animals."
 Refused to have sex with his wife for the last 38 years of their marriage. He felt that in order to test his commitment to celibacy, he would have beautiful young women (including his own great niece) lie next to him naked through the night. His wife, whom he described as looking like a "meek cow" was no longer desirable enough to be a solid test.
Believed that Indian women who were raped lost their value as a human.
During Gandhi's time as a dissident in South Africa, he discovered a male youth had been harassing two of his female followers. Gandhi responded by personally cutting the girls' hair off, to ensure the "sinner's eye" was "sterilised". Gandhi boasted of the incident in his writings, pushing the message to all Indians that women should carry responsibility for sexual attacks upon them.
He argued that fathers could be justified in killing daughters who had been sexually assaulted for the sake of family and community honour. 
Gandhi also waged a war against contraceptives, labelling Indian women who used them as whores.
He believed menstruation was a "manifestation of the distortion of a woman's soul by her sexuality".
On 6th April 1947, he gave a speech where he said, “ If the Muslims are out there slicing through Hindu masses to wipe out the Hindu race, the Hindus should say nothing and peacefully accept death”.
He hated the great Hindu rulers, especially Shivaji Maharaj. To please the Muslims, he banned the book named ShivBhaavani which correctly depicted Islam’s intolerance and fierce fundamentalism spread by it.
Refused his wife life-saving medication (for religious reasons), but those religious reasons all of a sudden no longer applied to him when he was in a similar position.
Started a fast unto death when Ambedkar asked for separate electorates for Dalits.
Gandhi left his ailing father on his deathbed, to sleep with his wife. The child born out of this copulation died in infancy. According to Gandhi, the death of this infant was the result of this evil karma.
Gandhi, even when he claimed to be the angel of non-violence, made no efforts to prevent the British from deploying Indian troops at various locations during World War II.
Kashmir was invaded by Pakistan in 1947, the brutal Pakistani army committed heinous crimes against Kashmiri Pandits including mass rape and mass killings consequently many Pandits were forced to flee to Delhi and other places. In one incident Pandits took refuge in an abandoned mosque in Delhi. Infuriated, Gandhi threatened to fast to death if the Pandits didn't leave. The Pandits were slaughtered in a communal riot as soon as they abandoned the mosques.
Criticized the Jews for defending themselves against the Holocaust because he insisted that they should have committed public mass suicide in order to "shame" the Germans instead of fighting back. His exact words were, "But the Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher's knife. They should have thrown themselves into the sea from the cliffs. As it is, they succumbed anyway in their millions."
And this is all from a simple Internet search compiled here. I wonder what else is hiding if I do a deep dive.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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lucysarah-c · 5 months ago
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You've mentioned that Levi probably has some sexist thoughts...do u think u could tell us abt what they might be?
Hi, love! How have you been?
Yes, I've mentioned that. I have a couple of posts done about it. I'll link them below:
I have an entire sort of "meta" post done about how I believe sexism is addressed inside the walls. Where I state that Levi is already a bit of an exception in his approach to women and social roles because of his upbringing. But one point I bring up there is that sexism isn't only about looking down on women; it's also about what is believed to be your roles in society based on your gender. There, I mention that in my long fic, I point out that Levi would probably feel very "offended" or "less of a man" if he's not the main provider. Mostly because it was expected of men to be those who provide and probably Levi feels that he's "less of a man" if he lets a girl pay for him.
I have one done about what toxic traits he may have in a relationship.
If his girl wears something revealing and views on homosexuality inside the walls.
But if I have to think of a particular sexist tendency Canon! Levi may have... I think probably possessiveness could be something that may bring out Levi's worse side. I feel like Levi is very black and white with his relationships and likes to set up the rules of the relationship rather clearly from the beginning. This man won't even look at another woman if he's taken; loyal to death... and he expects nothing but the same, and sometimes his demands can be a tiny bit too much.
Levi is devoted to his partner, and he would probably be very demanding of their exclusivity. For him, "you're his girl, you're his," and he doesn't take it lightly when you take it lightly. I wrote it in my long fic, but I feel Levi would get pretty upset if his partner is more "laid back" about taking compliments and attention from other guys. The quote I wrote was "If you smile at them like that, they think you're up for the take and you're not up for the take, you're with me."
And... probably he has a lot of the "men syndrome" of "I've the last word in everything," like they feel entitled to be the one who makes the final decision. The well-known thought of "you've to be the man of the relationship" or "be the one who wears the pants."
As I say, it's hard for me to think of very clear sexist scenes of Levi because he already had a very particular life that made him probably stand out from other men of his time. But probably those three are the main ideas I have in mind when I try to write them as a man who also has flaws like all of us. With that being said, I don't think Levi does it out of "superiority" because he personally feels entitled to it.
... sigh I feel this makes absolutely no sense, so I hope I managed to get my point across.
Thank you for passing by my blog!
Have a lovely day.
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lilac-5ky · 1 year ago
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Roommates from Hell, pt.1 (Toji x Fem!Reader)
Chapter 1: Stolen Fries taste best
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(pic from loving yamada at lvl999, adorable manga, recommend)
Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist
Plot: Out of all the women that come and go in Toji's life, you're the only one he calls his friend. But when he suddenly forces his way into your apartment, the feelings you've kept from him are put to the test.
Setting: Pre Hidden Inventory Arc. Toji and reader are both in their late twenties, no Megumi in picture... yet :p
Themes: Cohabitation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers
Warning: Slight sexual content minus the actual smut.
A/N at the bottom
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“You’re late. Again.”
The small silver bell at the top of the glass door notified you of a man’s arrival, his heavy steps refusing to wipe themselves upon entry, spreading mud all over the now-blotted checkered tiles of the dimly lit diner. You’d been expecting the owner of those shoes for the past six hours, his untimely arrival coming as a bitter aftertaste to an afternoon full of childish joy and mayhem— popped balloons, colorful confetti, and half-eaten pieces of cakes swept into one big pile at the room’s southernmost corner by yours truly.
“I never said I was coming,” the voice retorted, its defiant sound overshadowed by the gruesome screech of a metallic chair. “Not interested in celebrating some brat’s b-day, ‘specially if it ain’t mine.”
“How many helpless children must have spent their birthdays without their no-good father, I wonder,” you wiped your hands against your cherry-red apron, pushing the broom back into place. “If your goal is to repopulate Japan, I’m certain you’ll succeed.”
Hefty fingers mindlessly combed through a head of obsidian black, little spikes forming and then settling back down. “None, as far as I’m concerned,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue.
“Well, I find that hard to believe,” you mumbled under your breath, circling through the room to ensure everything was dealt with: leftovers in the fridge, gift wrappings in the bin, and the large aforementioned pile of garbage waiting to be scooped up. “You’ve known Kenzo since birth. Even if this ain’t your thing, the least you could’ve done was make an appearance. He kept asking about his favorite uncle all night long.”
“Except I’m not his uncle. Don’t mix me in with your sister’s family, I ride solo.”
Sigh.
“My sister’s family might as well be your family, Toji. You know how much Hinata and her kids adore you.”
“Good for them, I suppose.”
Another sigh.
“Can you at least tell me what was so important for you to not even pick the goddamn phone up?”
As if the device had grown sentient, a generic tune began tooting from the back pocket of his sweatpants, eradicating your final hope that it’d simply run out of battery.
Without budging from his seat, Toji twisted an arm around his back to pull his flip-phone out, the silver-tinted lid slamming shut as soon as he’d peered at the caller’s number, his next immediate move being to drown the sound in a glass of leftover Coke, fizzy bubbles playing the device’s final requiem.
You didn’t need to ask to know it was a woman, and he didn’t need to answer that she, whatever the name of his latest conquest was, happened to also be the reason for his being unfashionably late.
It was always like that. He was always like that. He went out with one girl after the other; from women of extreme beauty and poise to mindless bimbos who couldn’t tell tea leaves and coffee beans apart. He’d spend some cash to butter them up with expensive meals at overpriced restaurants, or VIP entrance at the hottest club, or even pay for the name tag on their designer clothes, but come next morning, he was either caught stealing straight out of their pockets or checking whether the tag was still attached to the dress for him to return it to the store—at which point, the vast majority gave up, except for those few poor souls who earnestly believed they could fix him, though they never would.
If there were two things in this world that remained unfaltering and resolute throughout the eons, then that was the earth’s orbiting the sun, and Zen’in Toji’s being the bastard of a man you knew and loved— special intonation of that last part.
It was quite the oxymoron. To know him as an irredeemable scumbag with no intention of changing, and to love him for all he was; a sentence as contradictory and controversial as the man before you. What was there to love? He never gave two shits about the people around him dying, and if he could encourage or partake in their deaths then he certainly would. He gambled every cent of cash in his hands away, and his every attachment ended with the disposal of his used-up condom. He was vulgar, cynical, and brass, and he possessed a great charisma of making people dislike him at first glance. His only saving grace was his good looks and even those he managed to scrape on a daily basis.
So, really, what was there to love about a man whose place fitted best among the pile of garbage in the corner? What was the point in all that?
He never answered your question, and when you realized he wasn’t planning to, you dragged a second chair to his side, propping your elbows first and then your chin over the vinyl backrest, feet landing at each side. You took in his expression— sour and undeniably agitated, with a frown tugging at the scarred corner of his lower lip, and a glare too icy to be meant for the wall of American-styled neon billboards he mercilessly studied. Something definitely bothered him, and as a huff stiffened his chin, the reason became evident enough for you to point at it.
“Woman or work?” you gestured at the blood that dribbled below his ear and down his neck.
He followed your forefinger with his eyes, thumb scrubbing where the gush began. He seemed oblivious to his injury, though it wasn’t as if his becoming aware changed a thing.
“So it is a woman,” you gladly seized the chance to rub salt into his wound, drawing a frustrated grumble from him.“What did you do this time? Stole her car and crashed it into a tree? Blew all her savings on cockfight betting?”
“Horse races,” he had the nerve to correct.
“Or… did you by any chance bring an uncalled ménage à trois to her bed?”
“What kind of man you take me for?” Toji protested.
“A very, very, veeeery bad man,” you smirked, and he returned it. You knew him like the back of your hand. There was no need to pretend otherwise after well over a decade’s worth of friendship.
“If a very bad man is what I am, then why’d ya let me in?” he asked. “A young unprotected woman all by herself in the middle of the night letting such scum in never ends well. Thought you were smarter than this.”
“If I was smarter, then I wouldn’t be calling you my friend, would I?”
His grimace turned into a full-blown devilish grin, the kind that secretly had your heart buzzing against the frail set of bones of your chest. He always looked so dazzling when he smiled, that sometimes you couldn’t find fault in those women wanting to believe in his pretty lies, because you, too, wanted to. You hoped that whatever the price for those smiles was, you would one day be able to afford it and gain ownership of his heart, no matter how wretched or blackened it was.
“You are a real idiot to mix it up with me,” he conceded. “Though, you are a greater idiot for letting that term define us. I bet your nights serving meals at some kiddie place get rather lonely. But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N. So good that you’d risk some prick getting in, lest he is me.”
His tongue poked out his mouth, giving his bottom lip a brief lick while he peered at you through half-lidded eyes. He had this way of turning things sexual in the blink of an eye, selling himself so well that your refusal to buy seemed commendable— despite the unmistakable affection you held for his face. Little did he know how much you longed to push that chair to the side and rip his cocky expression along his black-sleeved shirt off his body, making it so that neither of you had a place to hide from the other.
Now, that’d feel good.
“My nights are fine as they are, thank you very much,” you countered your instincts much to his disappointment. “And if I ever needed myself a helping hand, know that you’d be the last I’d call!” Not as if you’d pick up, anyway, you mentally added.
His gust of interest fizzled out as soon as it surged, your rejection forcing him to rock back and forth between the chair’s legs. He wasn’t interested in continuing this. It was enough for him to take in the dusty pink shading of your ears and smile to himself, knowing you were still the kind of woman affected by his charms. Yes, that certainly was enough, for now.
“I’ll clean you up,” you declared, getting off your spot in haste and strolling through the bar in search of a clean towel.
Once you found it, you let it soak under the faucet and brought it back to him, rubbing against his skin regardless of his petty attempt at gritting his teeth. You placed one hand on his shoulder and another at his jaw, pushing them apart to no avail. Every muscle in his body was stronger than your entire bodily force combined, and he was awfully willing to flex that difference between you, just as he was at letting you straddle his hips and climb all over his body like some sort of feral monkey in heat.
A string of profanities that ranged from “bastard” to “shit-eating-asshole-shithead” poured out your mouth while Toji smirked, and smiled, and grinned, and didn’t even try to stop you from knocking the two of you onto the ground, palms barely managing to stable your head over his face. Your pleated skirt had risen, or rather flipped, over your panties, revealing the strawberry pattern panties you were wearing to his greedy hands as they hiked up your flesh without an ounce of shame.
“Wh-What are you doing?!”
“What do you think I’m doing?” he cooed, burying his calloused fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear.
You felt him trace the inward of your thighs in languid strokes, the fabric stretching the further his hand dipped— closer, and closer to your now-pulsing core, but never so close as to make actual contact. His hot breath tingled your lips, smelling of nothing in particular, but a sweaty tang of a woman’s deodorant that still lingered in his clothes. Had he fucked her before making it here, you wondered, heart tightening at the thought.
Your legs wiggled shut, unable to fully repel his hand, and for a brief moment, you considered letting him go through with this— whatever this was. Even if you came to be another conquest won, you didn’t care. All you needed was for him to hush all logic from your brain, and fuck you senselessly against the checkered tile floor of the “kiddie food place” you served meals at.
“Toji…” you begged, uncertain what you were begging him for until you felt the warmth in your thighs subside.
“Makin’ sure to preserve your maiden’s dignity,” he said as he fixed your skirt in place. “Wouldn’t want some perv catching sight of your cute little ass, would we?”
His condescending tone made you want to throw a slap across his face and then yours; for thinking that maybe this wasn’t a mistake, that you could really move past the pretense of friendship and aim at what you really sought. But he’d been right once before. You were stupid, stupider than all those girls combined, considering you knew and still wouldn’t mind being dragged down with him one bit.
“Fucking asshole,” you blurted as you pushed yourself off him, dumping the cloth on his smug face.
Your lip quivered as you stepped onto your feet, unable to quite shake the feeling of incompletion from your core, walls pathetically clenching around nothingness. You refused to look at him, lest you caved in a second time, and thus you paced around the booths, stopping before the one window whose blinds didn’t block the magnificent parking lot view. Only a black SUV was left— most likely his newest rental.
Following a beep, you watched the lights flicker white, his reflection in the window lifting the chair back up. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited, your impatience and frustration churning into a dangerous mix within your guts, as the asshole whose name wasn’t worth saying moved past you and walked straight to the door, not a single word or goodbye said.
“What about your phone?” you asked, at last paying him a look of spite.
“I’ll text ya my new number.”
“We both know you won’t.”
He glanced over his shoulder and showed you his pearly white canines, his expression not polished enough to be called a smile. You rolled your eyes in the opposite direction, spotting his old device blinking a variety of different lights, refusing to die just like its bastard of an owner.
“What should I do with this?”
“How the hell should I know?” Toji shrugged. “Get rid of it, or toss it in some burger. I’m sure no one will be able to tell the difference. Later,” the bell chimed as the door collided with the frame, chiming a second time as his head popped in a moment later. “Loved the raspberries.”
“They were strawberries, you scatterbrained swine,” you cursed, but he’d heard none of it. The car was gone, and so was he, and it was for the best that he didn’t get to witness the strawberry-colored shadow that loomed over both your cheeks.
Fanning some of that heat away, you returned to the table, surprised to find a white envelope with the name Kenzo hastily written on the front. Cash. Lots of cash. Enough cash to keep a low-end apartment afloat for at least a couple of months. An excuse and simultaneously the answer to all your previous questions.
“You fucking bastard,” you hummed, the term switching to one of utter endearment.
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When the first instance of a wintry breeze came charging at the semi-exposed features of your face—a scarf’s fluff tucked right below your nose— you knew that walking all the way to the location where the unknown ID claiming to be Zen’in Toji ordered you to meet up was probably a bad idea.
For starters, you’d turn into an icicle long before making it back to your workplace. Not to mention you had no foolproof way of guaranteeing the person you were about to meet wasn’t some random impersonating psychopath. But when you finally spotted the yellow curvy “M” upon the rectangular red sign that spelled the fast food chain’s name, you narrowed down the psychopaths to that one cheapskate you happened to know.
Walking into the nearly vacant dining area —only the first two booths near the door occupying a family of four each— you detected him almost immediately. He was the only one seated in his wing. Head slightly tilted to look past the window, golden highlights showering the curve of a nose as it arched into thin eyebrows, calm eyes glinting with subtle emerald, and fingers that absentmindedly tapped away onto one of the two paper-covered trays. He had the decency to wait for you before getting into his food, though that didn’t stop him from munching on the occasional fry.
You tugged the handbag off your shoulder and slowly approached him, hesitating to enter his field of view, if just for a moment. He seemed so peaceful and serene, that if you had the guts, you’d snap a picture of him right then and there and make it into your phone’s wallpaper. But you didn’t. You’d never be able to explain it to him in a non-humiliating way, should he catch you in the act, and so, you shook the notion off and marched in his direction, his eyes lighting up in recognition.
“What’s the point of calling me out here for lunch if we are gonna have burgers?” you dropped your bag at the far end of the table. “Why not eat at our place?”
“I like the fries here better,” he bit onto one as if to affirm his claim, licking the salty essence off his fingers. “You should be glad I got you some, too,” he nodded toward the closed dome-shaped box that lay in front of you. “Nuggets over burgers, right? Didn’t know what toy ya wanted though. Cashier girl told me bunnies are quite popular with girls your age, so I went with that.”
Ignoring, or rather postponing your answer to his outrageous suggestion, you peered through the contents of your meal’s box, spotting the wrapped-in-plastic purple-colored bunny key chain right at the bottom between the small portion of deluxe potatoes and even smaller portion of chicken nuggets that still steamed hot air. You were surprised he remembered everything about your order, down to your preference for milkshake over other beverages, and perhaps you would have shown your gratitude if it wasn’t for that last comment of his gnawing at your pride.
“How old did you tell the cashier I was, again?” you gritted, trying to suppress the toy’s cuteness within your fist.
“Didn’t. Just said it’s for some kid I know. Probably thought it was for my daughter or something.”
A pair of googly eyes popped out from their sockets, the bunny’s head in serious danger of coming right off.
“Stop acting like an old man,” you muttered in embarrassment. “A nine-month head start in life doesn’t make you old enough to be my father.”
“Still older than you, kid,” said Toji, his fingers latching onto his wrapped-up burger. “Now eat up. Didn’t pay ya lunch for it to go cold.”
Annoyed by his remarks, but oh-so terribly starved, you decided to let things slide, the two of you lunching in a period of temporal truce. He went through his burger in big bites, clearing it out before you even finished your portion of nuggets. You mildly wondered why he’d held off if he was this hungry, but didn’t press on the reason behind his invitation until after his tray was half-emptied.
“So… why’d you wanna meet up? Got something to tell me?”
“Mhm, I actually do. How would you like us to be room—Nah, that doesn’t sound too right,” Toji shook his head off, dusting the excess salt off his fingers. “I decided I’m moving in with you.”
“You, what?!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock, resembling those of your newly acquired key chain.
“What I just said. I’m moving in,” he repeated as if you hadn’t heard him the first time around. “Got everything right here. I’ll pop by later so you can show me my room.”
You glanced down at what he tapped as “here”, spotting a large black duffel bag that rested on his feet. He wasn’t joking, you panicked. He was being 100% serious about this. Directing your milkshake to your mouth, you took a nervous sip, nearly choking on the plastic straw between your teeth, while Toji kept staring at you, awaiting no answer in particular. After all, he wasn’t asking. He was proclaiming.
“Why would you want that?” you asked once you regained the ability to think rationally. “Weren’t you the one who said you ride solo?”
“Numerous reasons,” he stated, drawing his forefinger forth as if to recount. “For starters, rental prices going up, gas too. Inflation in the market and all that crap. Your place is also closer to work, and” he leaned closer, “wasn’t your neighborhood the one on the news recently? You know, those serial break-and-enter cases? As far as I’m aware, the culprit’s still running loose, could be a cursed spirit or something. You can’t see ‘em, but I can. I’ll keep ya safe. Wouldn’t you want that? Sounds like a fair deal to me, at least.”
The repetitive pattern of a catchy pop song blasting from the speakers served as a backdrop to your thoughts, eyes flickering between the table and his face. He wasn’t exactly wrong about what he said. The girl next door was the robber’s last victim, and from what you’d gathered, it seemed like the ones targeted were exclusively single women in their twenties. Curse or not, that was the intruder’s type, and you just so happened to tick both of those boxes.
From a standpoint of reason, his suggestion sounded fair alright, but this was Toji we were talking about. The man whose name was your first thought in the morning and the final afterthought in the night. The man you were coincidentally in love with.
Living with him would entail being around him a lot more than you could handle. Waking and sleeping and eating in the same house as him, spending your days off together, bickering about bills, take-out, and the TV remote’s ownership, doing things that only couples got to do, and of course, sharing a bathroom, which on its own meant seeing him parade through the cramped little space of your apartment in nothing but a soggy towel, hair slick and teeth beaming as he’d be asking if you’d like to join him in the shower—
You hit the break on these thoughts and pressed your forehead flat against both palms, feeling the heat exuding through your fingers. You were only able to keep this relationship platonic because of the distance he put between you. If he were to suddenly close it, what would come of you? How on earth would you be able to hold back?
“Don’t you want me?”
“Huh?” you bit at the straw again, snapping it in half.
“I said, you hate the idea of living with me that much?”
Toji certainly didn’t mince his words, but the way he was looking at you, brows furrowing and lips quivering into a frown despite the edge in his tone, almost made it seem as if hearing your rejection out loud would hurt him, and because of that, you had no choice, but to shake your head in denial. You wanted this. More than words could express, you wanted to be with him like that, even if you refrained from disclosing that truth.
You wanted him.
“What about your girlfriends? Wouldn’t they be against you living with some woman?”
“Nah, I’m done with that. Done with all of ‘em.”
“But my apartment is too small. I don’t think it’d suit you—”
“I’ll manage,” he cut you off.
“I don’t even have a second bed-”
“We can always share,” he smirked, letting out a light-hearted chuckle as he watched color paint your cheeks. “Couch is fine, too. So, whaddya say, roomie?”
“…Fine,” you conceded, very well knowing you’d come to regret this decision. “But we need to set some ground rules! No trashing the apartment, no throwing your ‘work tools’ all over the place, no smoking, no drinking, no loud music, and no bringing in random women. No starting fights either! You’ll help around and pay half of what’s needed, so no gambling your money away. Those are my terms.”
“You drive a hard bargain, roomie,” Toji said, balancing his chin atop his elbow. “Fine by me. Told you I’m done with half those things anyway, and I don’t mind helping you with anything. I mean that.”
But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N.
His words from that night still lingered in your mind like an unfulfilled promise, and when he phrased it like that, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how good his hands felt that night, creeping all over your skin as if he owned it— as if he owned you.
“G-good!” you said, picking up a fry off his tray and tossing it in your mouth, lest you said something stupid.
“No one taught you stealing other people’s food is rude?” Toji shot you a glare unequal to your crime.
“It’s not stealing if you are done with it!” you protested. “You haven’t touched your fries in over ten minutes now.”
His tongue clicked against his mouth’s roof, producing a series of “tsk” sounds while he shook his head in disapproval. “Didn’t take ya for such a brat, Y/N. Disrespecting me in my face right after we came to an agreement? That’s some bad business ethics.”
You rolled your eyes at his comment, barely keeping yourself from groaning. “I’m so terribly sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have stolen your esteemed fries, sir. Won’t ever happen again, sir. Please allow me to express my profound remorse, sir.”
Although Toji knew you only addressed him as such to get on his nerves, he was still pleased enough to grace with you an unsuspecting smile, seconds before you shoved a ketchup-covered potato against his mouth, smudging the left corner of his lips in a way akin to that of his right corner scar. He blinked, clouds of fury gathering in the bleakness of his eyes and cheeks puffing up, painting the most adorable expression you’d ever seen him wear.
“So cute,” you gushed, unable to suppress a hearty laughter that agitated him even more, red blooming across his cheeks— most likely by the lack of oxygen, you interpreted.
“Fucking brat,” he hissed, dipping the last of his fries in ketchup and then stuffing your mouth with it before you could even react. “I’ll show ya how it’s done!” he declared, your lips puckering against his fingers, condiment spreading all over like lipstick. His other hand forced your head in place, stilling your chin for him to work on his masterpiece, making a much bigger mess out of you than you had made of him.
“Hmphmmph!” you hummed while Toji laughed, a deep sound that reverberated straight from his guts, his eyes glinting along with his teeth in sheer joy that convinced you to give up so as to not spoil his fun. It was rare to see him genuinely happy.
“That should teach ya to behave,” he spat, smugness in every aspect of his features as he pressed his thumb onto his mouth, cleaning the ketchup off with a lick. “But you did address me properly, so you’ve earned the right to choose. Napkin or my lips? Which one?”
Stupefied as you were, you didn’t understand the full context of his question until you felt the sudden warmth of his mouth flutter over your skin, the tip of his tongue sloppily gathering the leftover ketchup off your right cheek. Your jaw popped open, a small gasp escaping as a result of his action.
“Too slow,” Toji whispered, hooded green eyes peering right into yours. “I’ll ask again. Napkin or my lips? What’s it gonna be, doll?”
“N-n-n-napkin!” you must have stuttered at least a thousand times before forming a comprehensible answer. He was so close that if he tilted his head any closer your lips were sure to touch. “P-please get me a napkin.”
“Please?” he chuckled, acting as if was really going to kiss you and then pulling away. “Be right back.”
Even after Toji let go, you could still feel the weight of his thumb holding you down, your eyes zeroing in on his black sweater as he set off for the other side of the room where the napkin and condiments stand was located. You heard a few whispers coming from beside your table, catching three pairs of eyes shooting daggers right at your back.
“Don’t they have a home?” a woman’s voice echoed first.
“Kids these days…” a man added.
“Honey, don’t look at their sinfulness, it’s the devil’s work.” A second woman concluded.
You were on the verge of experiencing a cardiac arrest, and you were pretty darn sure you would have if Toji hadn’t returned with the napkins in time, his hand snatched by yours as you forcefully dragged him out of the place, spelling frantic apologies at whoever was listening.
Once you’d made it outside, you sighed in relief, winter’s viciousness coming as a much-needed slap across your face. You took in a few breaths, letting go of his hand and padding a few steps away from the store’s windows, afraid you were still the focus of their attention. Toji followed, one hand stuffed inside his jeans pocket, while the other held the duffel bag over his shoulder in a lazy manner.
“Can you give me a lift to work?” you managed to ask, dodging his stare even as he stepped to the front.
“I would, but I can’t. Gave the car away.”
“You did what?”
Nothing about your reaction was funny in any shape or form, but he seemed amused enough to break into a soft chuckle, his eyes, too, softening ever so slightly.
“Planning to walk around town like a bloodsucker?” he asked, bringing a napkin to wipe your lips with greater care than you’d think. “How dirty,” he cooed, gently tapping at the center. “Next time, I won’t ask for permission to kiss you, roomie. Let’s go.”
“W-Where?” your voice came out so frail that you doubted he’d heard your question, his bag bouncing over his taut body with every step he took outside the parking lot.
“You asked for a ride, didn’t ya? Come.”
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A/N: Launching a new series because I have so many feelings bottled up that I'm in danger of farting hearts and rainbows and shit. Decided to take the time off and write this fic for myself cause I needed it, but then I thought why not share it with the world? First time writing for Jujutsu Kaisen and Toji in particular, so hopefully it's received well!
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georgiapeach30513 · 6 months ago
Text
Much Too Fast, Part 4
Summary: time for some truth
Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings:  language, mild sexual imagery, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.2K
Previous
Series Masterlist
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To say that your mind has been racing since that night with Curtis would be an understatement. You and Curtis had this raw — attraction. And even that is putting it mildly. You had long given up on the fact that it was just sexual attraction. That is clearly there. My god was it there. Every night your body hungered for him. Could still feel his hands all over your body, and the way that he stretched you out, but it still felt like he fit perfectly.
You never thought you would ever see him again, and this predicament that you are in is nauseating. You have to see him every day, and you get to see him with a child. Not just a child, but this sweet clingy baby. She is completely a daddy’s girl, and you find him so much more attractive because of it. And it sucked. And not the good kind of suck. The worst kind. The kind that is irritating because you can’t do anything about it.
He is married. Regardless of whatever their relationship was or is, he is still legally married. Tati hadn’t been in the house long enough for you to see if he did in fact sleep alone or with her. Poet had space in his room, and yeah, you were nosy and checked her mom’s room, and there was no signs of Tati being a mother or Poet having space there. It looked just like a staged room that
The living room is decorated in black and white photos of the sweet baby, and even of Curtis and her, and you have discovered only one where Tati was photographed with her daughter. You could completely be projecting, but you didn’t see the same glow about her or warmth in her eyes like you did Curtis’. And you wondered if Tati resented Curtis for making her have Poet.
The sentiment that she didn’t want her baby lingered in your mind. And you fully believed women should have the right to choose the path for themselves, but you couldn’t imagine a life without Poet. It puts you in such a predicament because you love this baby, and you find yourself judging Tati for the life she didn’t want, but chose for someone else. And clearly she let Curtis take the brunt of the responsibility. As is her right, and Curtis didn’t seem to mind.
But watching the sweet baby crawl around her play area while you make her something to eat, and she sits up to jabber away at you makes your heart swell. Bursting wide open because you want to give her all the mothering love you could. Something inside of you told you that Tati didn’t make that a priority. It is a weird sick cycle that she was present enough to say she’s a mother, and then away more than you were told to live the life that she actually wanted.
It put Poet in a an uncomfortable limbo. She could never be at ease in her own home, and that hurts your heart more than anything. That this small baby who could only crawl knew there is a disconnect between her and her mother. And it made you that much more protective of her, and also believe Curtis’ words more because why would he lie? He didn’t seem like the one that struggled to find someone to have sex with.
Of course you told yourself that he was someone who couldn’t just sleep with anyone. Even though he slept with you after knowing you for a few hours. But that was completely different. There was an odd connection. Hopefully you aren’t just thinking that to make yourself feel better about that one night stand. But what were the chances that you were thrust into his life in a more permanent way?
How was it that this guy you met one night was the very same guy that you were hired to watch his daughter? Was this divine intervention in your life or was this a sign for you to stop thinking everything is connected. That those coincidences still actually happened in life.
“Hey, sweet girl,” you coo, reaching in to pick her up. Lavishing kisses all over her sweet face before carrying her into the kitchen for lunch. “Now, don’t you make a mess and be all cute with your crusty face today, okay?”
“‘Tay,” she giggles, leaning her head into your neck. She is one of the most precious babies you have ever met. She wasn’t quite a year old and she has this great personality. She says a slew of words, adding in dada and mama pointing and moving her eyebrows like she’s carrying on a real conversation.
“Oh, I know. You and daddy are best friends. And he is naughty and lets you sleep in the bed with him when you wake up crying, doesn’t he?” More giggles and nonsense, and you hand her the plate with her own spoon. You are supposed to let her feed herself first before you make sure she gets plenty of nutrition.
“Yep, you’re an independent lady, and you don’t need daddy to cater to you.”
“Yep,” she responds, shoving a handful of food into her mouth. You didn’t care if she got messy. Babies were supposed to get messy. That’s what bathtime was for. Or a quick rinse and pool time. “Uhh!” She gets excited, hearing the alert that someone is pulling into the property. “Dada!”
“I don’t think that’s him,” she couldn’t be swayed, and she has a chorus of ‘Dada’ ringing out into the kitchen. Cars coming in meant her daddy was coming and home to her, but a quick message from Tati this morning, you knew it was finally her return.
“Dadadadadadadadada!” She squeals all the way until Tati walks through the door, sweetly saying Poet’s name as she puts her luggage down. “Uhh,” clearly that isn’t who Poet wanted to see. And as Tati rounds the corner into the kitchen the baby’s frown deepens. Pouting up at you as her mom barely kisses her forehead.
Tati looks even more put together than you remember. She supposedly just returned home, and every bit of her is in place. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect manicure, an outfit that clung to every curve. She even smells fresh and expensive. Obviously flying treated her better than it did you. You are nothing like Tati. You feel homely and plain next to her in her giant heels and long legs.
“Someone acts like she needs a nap with how mood she is, and…a bath. Darling, mommy is going to take a long nap. Grace, do you mind keeping her this evening? I don’t know Curtis’ plans, but I have dinner reservations that I can’t miss,” so much for wanting to spend time with her daughter. Already making plans to be with someone else. No, you can’t judge her. She didn’t want this life. But you wished she would stop hiding behind a facade of a happy family life.
“The place looks incredible. I knew you could keep it up to my standards. Poet, you look as if you’ve grown a few inches,” most parents would feel sad about their child growing, and missing it. She seems to just state the obvious. “How has everything been here?”
“It’s been great,” it was even hot when her husband was willing to fuck you in the pool.
“I hope her daddy has been hospitable to you,” yeah, he’s had his hard cock pressed against your core, while you could only think about his relationship with his wife. “Anyways, I think I’m going to go for a bath, and a nap. Carry on.”
“Tati, can I ask you a question without sounding too forward?” She sighs, but nods her head. Nervously looking at Poet, and you didn’t even want to talk about her daughter. You want to know more about her husband. “Umm, Curtis and you don’t share a room?”
“He snores, and I can’t sleep,” lies. He didn’t snore that much, and their rooms are on opposite sides of the giant house, and on different floors.
“It’s just he’s in a much smaller room beside Poet’s on the main floor.”
“Was he bothering you in the pool? I told him and his slutty…I mean, I might have mentioned that you were given free range of the pool, and he shouldn’t bother you. It’s fine. He’s just a much more hands-on parent than me. I can’t only parent how I was taught, and that was to continue living your life while you made sure your child had the best of everything including care. And I’m just not good at being a mother. I didn’t want this,” she stops her train of thought. Breathing deeply as she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. What started off as questions about Curtis became her ranting about how she parents.
“Parenting is complicated, and every parent is going to do things differently, and I’m not a bad mom. I’m not.”
“Oh, I didn’t — no, you have provided your daughter with a safe environment to grow and learn, and…I think I’m not making myself clear,” while it did bug you that Tati great Poet as an afterthought. But she did in fact make sure her daughter was taken care of. She just had no relationship with her.
“What is this about? It’s my slut husband, huh? Can’t keep it in his fucking pants. I knew it when I first saw you. I knew he was going to come onto you. So have you slept with him?” Oh this is turning the wrong way entirely. “Quite frankly, I don’t care. Curtis and I don’t have that sort of a relationship. But I don’t want you getting involved with a man that has no desire to be tied down,” oh dear.
She is saying the words you’ve been wanting, but also some you’ve feared. “Fine, seeing how Curtis clearly can’t stop from fucking everything with a goddamn pussy, no. We are married legally. We have no emotional ties to one another. Does that solve that? Fuck him, I don’t care. Just know that he’s not reliable. The only person he even cares about is his daughter. And whoever is getting on their goddamn knees.”
“He cares about you,” you say meekly. Curtis had never said anything horrible about Tati, and yet there is major animosity coming from her concerning him. Back to the theory she really disliked him for making her have Poet.
“Yes, cares about the fact that I was able to provide him with a child,” you gulp, turning to look at Poet who stares intensely at you. Like she is avoiding looking at her mother who is spewing vile nonsense about her dad. “This isn’t the most proper conversation to have with you. I apologize, I’m not myself, and I’m tired, it’s been a long day. I’ll need a vacation after my vacation,” you look up at her confused. It was allegedly a business trip. A nearly two week vacation, and she needs another.
“I’m,” she takes a deep breath, watching you and Poet stare at one another, and sighs, “He’s a great guy, but a terrible partner. I don’t need that, and I for damn sure don’t need a fucking man and his need to fucking poke me with their cock every goddamn night. If you excuse me. I need about a three hour nap, and then I’m going out. If you could please make sure she’s taken care of if Curtis isn’t home. You’ll be paid handsomely,” she spins on her heels, heading out of the kitchen, and you look down at the messy baby.
“That didn’t go that well, did it?” She offers you a bit of a smile, covering her face with her messy squished banana hands. “I guess that’s why she’s upstairs and we’re down here. She won’t be able to hear us have fun, huh? You want to get rinsed off, and go swimming?”
“Aye!” She throws her hands up in the air, and your weird interaction with her mother starts to move to the back of your mind instead of the front. Tati is a bit of a liar. She is holding Curtis’ life, and even Poet’s ransom. They couldn’t move forward because she is holding them back. Trapping them in this weird whatevership while she flies off for two week long vacations only to come back to leave again.
You could have left your questions about her relationship private, but at least you had some clarity on their situation from her point of view. They weren’t sleeping together. And it seemed she had no love for her husband. And you wondered if she did for her daughter.
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Curtis casually watches you through his blinds. You had acted weird all afternoon, and that is saying a lot considering what had happened between the two of you. You were a bit standoffish. You didn’t make any comment about Tati asking you to watch Poet later than you normally would, and all as she left the house quickly.
He came home to find you and Poet in the sweetest baby yoga moment, and he wished that he was coming home to you and your daughter. Tati in all aspects was an egg donor, but this is what he wanted in life. To see his wife enjoy time with her children. Smiling sweetly in a pose before you help her do her own. He might have looked at your ass in those tight leggings a bit too long. Remembering the way your soft supple skin felt in his grip. Your ass was the perfect size for his hands.
There even was a bit of an argument as he tried to take Poet from you, but you resisted telling him that Tati had asked and she was your responsibility. He just wanted to be closer to you, but it threw him off the way you responded. You never were like that. He knew when he came home and Tati’s car was here that a conversation was had and he didn’t know what.
But now watching you jump into the pool, and come up to the surface, only to swim over to the edge and drink from a beer bottle, he's curious. He should leave you alone for the time being but he couldn’t. There is this weird pull towards you, especially now when he can see that something is wrong. You look distant. Your eyes stare blankly at the water before you lean you head back on the edge. Staring up at the night sky.
He didn’t even want to make an advance, but wants to see if you’re okay. He changes into some swimming trunks before grabbing the baby monitor and a towel as he walks outside. You bite at your lip with the sound of the door opening, but remain unmoving. Seeing how you don’t say anything, neither does he as he eases into the pool. It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of you that you acknowledge he’s there.
Lifting your head up off the edge, you reach behind you, and grab another beer, extending it to him. “You’ve been weird today.”
“Have I?” You answer curtly, grabbing your own beer to take a swig. “You want to tell me the truth between you and your wife, because she really seems to hate you.”
“I see. You talked about me today? Tati’s rendition was very glowing I bet. Someone who is scared of commitment. That I’m only using you for the cunt between your legs,” the fact he knew the basic parts of your conversation means that this has happened before. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the one gallivanting all over the world with my girlfriend. Shit,” he whispers, realizing what he just announced. Everything makes sense now.
Your mouth opens wide as you stare at him before you place the bottle to your lips and start chugging. Of all the things he could have said, you weren’t exactly expecting that. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Finishing your beer, you contemplate grabbing another one, but instead try to think of something to say. “Girlfriend as in her best friend? Like they just do everything together?”
“No.”
“It’s complicated, huh? So, you’re married to a woman who is dating another woman, and doesn’t want to be a mother, but doesn’t want to admit to that. She’s holding you and Poet essentially hostage because she can’t tell her parents that she’s a lesbian. First it was she didn’t want them to know she was pregnant out of wedlock, but you wanted the baby, and now she’s…I’m just trying to wrap my brain around all this. She’s very angry at her situation.”
It’s Curtis’ turn to turn the beer completely up as he downs the hoppy liquid, and places it on the side of the pool before he grabs another. It is out there now, so there was no point in denying anything. “She’s angry because she’s living a lie.”
“She has more means than most people do. She’s rich, and a grown fucking adult. There’s kids who come out to their parents, and risk being kicked out. She’s a damn adult,” you’re seething. You didn’t care what Tati did with her life, but her life and lies are affecting two people she should love. Two that are stuck. Poet didn’t even seem to like her mom. Definitely didn’t have a loving relationship with her, and Curtis is allowing this to continue as well.
“You don’t understand,” he is really taking up for her. This horrible woman that has stunted his and his daughter’s lives.
“Then make me,” you plead. You need to understand, because you are getting too involved. “Do you want to know what she said about you?”
“I already know. She thinks I want to fuck every woman in my vicinity.”
“And do you?”
“Every?” He smirks at you. He takes a wet hand to run down his beard. Leaving it looking moist and dripping, and you get a flashback of his mouth shining with your slick. “No. Currently there’s only one woman in my vicinity I want to fuck.”
“So I’m just a hot piece of flesh that is living in your house while your wife is fucking around with her girlfriend is that it?”
“You’re mincing words here. No, you’re not just an amazing lay. I’ve only had you once, and yes, I would very much like to have you again. But I think whatever is going on between us is much more than fucking. I’m not hurt by Tati’s words anymore. She’s the type of woman that knows I will move on, and once I fully move on I won’t wait for her timeline anymore, so she strikes before that happens.”
These words. You aren’t sure what to make of them. He leans forward, slowly slotting his lips against yours. The sharpness of the beer dances around on your tongue as you taste it on him. Opening your mouth, you allow his access, and he eases past your lips. Tongues dancing together before you pull away from him.
It isn’t the beer that is making your brain fuzzy, but this situation. So many things are running in your head, but there’s one thing you can’t seem to forget, “And what about Poet?”
“What about her?”
“You both are taking away her happiness. Poet has bonded with me because she needs a motherly love. She doesn’t even know her mom as a mother, but as someone that floats in her life. In and out of her life. I’ve spent more time with her in the past few weeks than Tati ever has, and that’s sad. She doesn’t know that her daughter is speaking words, and crawls so fast I have to chase her around. She doesn’t know that Poet’s favorite food is green peas because she’s such a weird little baby. And she mushes those peas in between her fingers, and giggles before she gobbles them up.”
“But you know that,” Curtis’ beefy arm reaches behind you, grabbing another beer for himself before raising it to you, “This was smart, bringing the beer out here, I mean. Listen, Tati didn’t want to be a mom. So don’t try and make her feel guilty for not being one.”
“Then you need to stop making excuses for her. You need to tell her where you’re at and that you are done with being married to her, so you can move on, and…”
“Date you?” You exasperatedly roll your eyes, and turn to look away from him, but he pulls your chin over to look at him. “Darling, I’m okay with where I’m at, but if you need me to do this for you, and us, you have to let me know. Tati is doing things on her terms, but if you need me to tell her my terms, then you have to be honest with me.”
“I could always go on another date with…”
“Jax?” Your face falls and you look across his face confused. “That’s my partner. There’s a reason why you didn’t get a earth shattering first kiss,” mother fucker. “It was an honest mistake, and he didn’t realize who you were until you showed up, and then when he knew he just made sure you had a fun night.”
“How would he have known who I was?” Now it’s your turn to smirk as Curtis floats away from you. Pretending to be listening to the monitor that shows Poet softly snoring. “Oh, did you tell him about your hot nanny that you fucked?”
“In not so colorful of words, but yes. He knew not to — well.”
“Touch me? Curtis did you think fucking me that one time was you claiming me?” He gives an honest answer by nodding his head, and the serious conversation gets heavier. Breathy and light in a way, but there’s an undertone of need. The two of you are reaching a level of truce for now, but you need more.
“So is this you sneaking into the pool house with me?” He shakes his head no, putting a leg up, his foot presses against your belly. Stopping you from getting any closer to him. “Me sneaking into your room?” Another shaking of his head. And his leg holds you firmly in place. “Then what?”
“If all I wanted was sex, I could have had you so many times. This is me saying you live with my daughter. We have to tread through this very carefully. I don’t want too many feelings involved yet. And it can never be just sex can it? We live in the same house.”
“I actually live in the pool house.”
He takes a staggering breath, and you look down into the water with a big grin, “You have no idea what you do to me. Seeing you with my daughter in a mothering way. Seeing her smile at you, and hold onto you, greeting me at the door only to crawl back to you. I’m a sap for things like that, especially with Poet. If we do this it’s not just sex.”
“If we do this I’m not going to be the other woman.”
“Did you miss this entire conversation? You won’t be,” you have to set some boundaries here. If he wanted you, he could have you. While the divorce was underway. You start to back away from him with a smile, and he starts walking towards you, “Wait. Where are you going?”
“To play with myself while I remember our first night together.”
“What just happened?” Staring hungrily as you emerge from the pool, looking over your shoulders to make sure he was staring at your ass. He isn’t a disappointment, but then he looks up at your face. “Where are you going?”
“If you want more than sex, prove it. You’ve heard what I don’t want, and what I am okay with. And if you want just my body then you can bring the monitor and join me in the pool house. You’ll only get one choice, Curtis,” without even grabbing your towel, you saunter towards the pool house. Holding your breath, and hoping that he doesn’t follow you. Your words sound sure, but your legs quake in fear that he’s going to follow you. That kiss being sweeter touches you in a way you didn’t think could happen.
You hope with every part of you that he can hold off like he said, and is willing to tell Tati that the time has come for a divorce. You hope that he doesn’t disappoint you and is willing to just have sex for tonight. You want Curtis, and you want more than just his cock. The close proximity to him and playing house with him was becoming infuriating.
And before you even reach the pool house you hear the door to his bedroom close with so much force you flinch, turning around to see him place a pillow over his face, and know that he is screaming. Good. You weren’t going to be the other woman. Regardless of if the relationship between him and Tati had run its course. You were going to be the woman. The only woman. So until he made that decision, you were going to be the nanny. For now.
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aftonfamilyvalues · 4 months ago
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how women on here are reacting to the boxing situation is the final straw for me with radblr tbh.
like imagine this scenario for a second: people are making false claims about you that you not only can easily disprove with a simple, uninvasive test, but you've ALREADY DONE said test in the past so you'd just need to ask them to publish the results. you can debunk these claims with the same amount of effort required to push a button.
but you don't. you have Literally The Easiest Option In The World to prove you're right and you don't do it.
and yet because women have created their own OC for this guy in their heads who is a female with androgen issues they'd rather defend their self-made blorbo as a way to peacock about how "yes all women" and/or "not racist" they are than do 2 seconds of research and critical thinking to realize "hey maybe this situation that fits literally all the criteria for the dude being a male, including the fact that he's been previously disqualified from competing in the women's league TWICE yet shows up for the Female Olympics anyway, means he's actually just a liar and cheater"
i'm open to having some sympathy for him if his parents (tried to*) raise him as a girl but like. he's a fucking adult. he took a sex test. he knows who he is now. he's making his own decisions. one of these decisions is choosing to hide who he is.
*idc how misogynistic his parents are in believing "no vagina??? but no penis. no penis = female. because female = non-male.", if they knew he had a male-specific dsd that coloured how they raised and treated him, even if they tried to hide it. the act itself of hiding it from him and trying not to raise him that way makes their treatment of him already inherently different from how they'd raise him if he were actually female.
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link here
im going to try to go about this in the most respectful way possible.
i cant say i agree with everything youre saying here. theres still a lot of misinformation about this and i cant say a slatz tweet is very satisfying for me given the racist and homophobic things ive seen from her. but, if what you say is true, that this boxer is an intersex male who was assigned female at birth, i think its completely unfair to treat her entirely as a man. the community tends to regard itself as a place for intersex women too, those with this particular dsd were not spared misogyny just because they unknowingly had xy chromosomes. learning they are biologically male with a dsd doesnt mean they have a desire to completely restructure their lives and identity around being men, i think thats kind of insane to expect.
that being said, i think there needs to be a reevaluation of fairness in sports and how intersex people fall into it. what advantages or disadvantages do intersex women carrying a y chromosome have over those that dont? what male charactistics (bone density, for example) still exist in these women? do they pose a danger to other women in their sport? what about other intersex conditions? at what point does it become unfair? unfortunately it could lead to their exclusion, and if that happens will there be another place for them? theres a lot to consider and things will have to change as we learn more. its not really a black and white situation in my opinion.
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