#little lady was modeling last night
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Forces you to look at HER now ok
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imagine youre a teenager and one day you decide to steal a car because it looks fast and sleek and you want to travel on the road. so you go on a trip in your stolen car and you love it so much that you dedicate your life to the road. you spend your years travelling, visiting new places and picking up hitchhikers, all in the same car you stole, which at this point has become old and run down and needs refurbishing every now and then, but you never replace it because you live in this car now and it's your home. at one point your actual house was demolished and your family members are dead. the people you've hooked up with in your car have broken up with you and gone away. youve changed many times as a person, but your shitty car has stayed the same, the one constant in your hectic life. it's the last one of its model after they stopped manifacturing it: that's how old it is. then one day, your car suddenly breaks down in the middle of the road. you go out to get help and find a lady who weirdly knows all about you. she knows all the places youve been to and the people youve gone there with. as you talk with her more, you begin to realize that, somehow, the soul of your car—the one that's sitting broken outside—has transferred into the body of a human woman. your car is alive and now speaking to you, and she remembers all the moments you two have spent together, every word youve told her when you thought you were alone, every desire and complaint youve expressed to her in the middle of the night. your car is speaking to you, and she tells you that however much you love her, she loves you equally back. that you never really stole her all those years ago because she wanted to travel with you, and she wouldn't change you for anyone else in the world. you speak with your living human car, and you realize that, hey, she's kind of funny actually, and you might be a little bit in love with her, and she might be a little bit in love with you. but the desert you're stuck in is also sentient and evil, so your human car dies in your arms in order for her soul to transfer back into the machine and drive you away. so now you're back on the road with your car the same as always, except now you know she's sentient and maybe has feelings for you, so you sometimes let go of the wheel and let her take you wherever she wants. that's what happened between the doctor and the tardis in that one episode
#AND it was written by neil gaiman.#doctor who#the doctor's wife#eleventh doctor#tardis#doctor x tardis#doctortardis#mine#1k#10k
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deal - cl16 (44/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started!
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of previous smut), alcohol consumption, slight jealousy, a kiss
Word Count: 3.6k
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A/N: we love girls girls. happy Sunday to everyone! feedback is appreciated!
Your little heels click on the asphalt of the streets of Monaco as Kika and you walk towards the club, arms hooked and cheeks warm from the wine. Cold wind blows in your faces.
“I was so happy when Charles invited us to come with you,” Kika smiles and lays her head on your shoulder, which is certainly quite uncomfortable due to your uneven pace. But she doesn't seem to care.
You rest your cheek against her top of her head. "I didn't even know that you were coming tonight until a few hours ago," you say.
“He apparently only messaged Pierre today and asked,” the Portuguese woman says, lifting her head from your shoulder. "Very spontaneous. But all the better that it worked.”
You smile at her. "That's true.”
Together you turn a corner and immediately the club on the other side of the street catches your eye. Neon signs, which somehow don't fit with the rest of the city's atmosphere, draw attention to the building and the closer you get, the louder the music seems to get, penetrating through the walls. A few people are standing in front of the double doors, guarded by security guards dressed in black, discussing admission.
When you see the clipboards in the hands of the broad-built men, you stop abruptly, causing Kika to almost trip and bump into you.
“Are you okay? What's wrong?” she asks, looking at you in confusion.
Nervously, you nod in the direction of the club. ”They have clipboards.”
Kika looks at the bouncers and then back at you. “No shit, Sherlock. That's where the guest list is,” she replies and tries to pull you a little further. “Why are you stopping? Have you changed your mind? Don't you want to party?”
“Yes, I do,” you reply hesitantly. “But how do we get in there if they have a guest list?”
A grin spreads across Kika's beautiful face before she puts her arm around you and pushes you forward. “Do you really doubt that we'll get in?” she asks, and when she catches your nervous glance, she pulls you closer. “You were invited by a Formula 1 driver, querida. You're the last person who needs to worry.”
As you cross the street and stand behind the people who are still arguing with the bouncers, you realize how different your life seems to be now.
Ten days ago, you were worried about how you would pay your rent if you didn't find a job – and now you're spending nights on yachts, your best friend is a model and you're partying with Formula 1 drivers in Monaco's most chic clubs. And you're even living with one of them.
And you love him too.
The bouncers don't seem to be giving in, and the more unyielding they look, the more annoyed the men in their black suits appear. As people try to negotiate their entry and wave banknotes in their hands, the men look past them and nod to you.
Without hesitation, Kika pulls you through the crowd and comes to a stop in front of the entrance doors. She is about to open her mouth when one of the bouncers takes a step to the side and smiles at you. “Good evening, ladies,” he says in a deep voice, holding the door open for you. “Mr. Norris is expecting you.”
“Thank you very much,” Kika replies with a broad smile, quickly pulling you along behind her so that you can only say a quiet ‘thank you’ to the two men before the club's double doors close behind you and you are enveloped in dim light, warm air and music that gets louder with every step you take.
“See? That wasn't so hard,” your friend grins, and together you walk down a short hallway before entering a large room. To your left are a few seating areas on an ampore, some open and others roped off. To your right is a long bar stretching across the room, with lots of people already gathered around it. And right in front of you – there's the dance floor.
At the back is the DJ booth, currently manned by a woman who seems to know exactly what the crowd wants to hear. With precision and skill, she flows from one song to the next without you really noticing, and the audience is eating out of her hands.
“Hello, you two beauties,” someone suddenly says behind you, and when you turn around, you see Lando's face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top buttons casually undone so that part of his chest can be seen. With arms outstretched, he hugs Kika first before pulling you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. “How are you? How was Christmas?” he asks, taking each of your hands to pull you to the seating areas on the left. He briefly lets go of Kika's hand to untie one of the ribbons before letting you go ahead.
“It was great,” Kika replies and takes off her long jacket before dropping onto one of the dark couches. She crosses her legs. "But I think our girl here had the most fun," she grins, raising her eyebrows. You give her a dirty look.
Lando turns to you with raised eyebrows. ”Did you two fuck?”
“That's exactly what I asked!” Kika laughs and claps her hands joyfully.
You feel the heat rising to your face, and it's not because you're still wearing your coat. Tensioned, you take it off and lay it over the back of the couch. “We didn't,” you answer curtly and roll your eyes.
Kika and Lando exchange a meaningful look that you try to ignore.
“Where are the boys, anyway?“ the Brit finally asks, rubbing his hands together as if he can't wait to see his friends again.
“They dropped us off one street over so they could find a parking lot and so we wouldn't all be seen together,” Kika replies, reaching for the drinks menu on the small table in front of her. She begins to flip through it.
“Very good.” Lando turns to you. "Today, only guests are invited who I and Martin know personally and trust so much that no one has to worry about any photos getting out," he smiles, putting his arm around your shoulders.
You look up at him. ”Really?”
He nods. “So you don't need to worry. And neither does Charles.” He gently pulls you close before letting you go again. “So, girls. What can I get you to drink? Wine, cocktails, shots?”
“I'd like a strawberry margarita,” Kika replies, leaning back on the couch.
“A piña colada, please.”
“All right. I'll be right back.“ Without turning back to you, he leaves and heads towards the bar, where he is immediately greeted and hugged by a few people, while you first make yourselves comfortable in your seating area.
“Do you know this Martin guy?” you ask the Portuguese woman, who looks over at the crowd.
She nods briefly. “Martin is really nice. And he's a good DJ,” she replies, and you notice how her gaze sticks to the female DJ. “He just doesn't look as good as she does.”
You can't suppress a grin. ”He doesn't have to look good as a DJ, does he? He just has to be good at what he does.”
“That's right,” Kika agrees with you before turning to face you. She points with her thumb over her shoulder and towards the DJ booth. ”But she's definitely hotter.”
Before you can say anything, Lando returns with a tray and sets it down in front of you. Your two cocktails and more glasses are on it, but there are also small shot glasses filled with red liquid. He hands you your drinks.
“There we are,” Pierre greets all of you and briefly embraces Lando. Charles is standing behind him and smiles at you.
“I'm glad you all made it,” the Brit smiles, giving the Monegasque a quick hug before everyone sits down.
Charles takes a seat next to you, so close that he can press his leg against yours. “Hi,” he smiles gently. “Everything okay?” You return his smile and nod before taking a sip of your cocktail. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips, which wrap around the straw. “Piña Colada?”
“Mh-hmm.” You hold the straw out to him and watch as he takes a sip. "Do you like it?”
“I do,�� he admits. ”But somehow I prefer the Nightmare Colada.”
Warmth rises to your cheeks at his words and the thought of the night when you got drunk on his boat. How you poured out your hearts.
“To a great evening,” Lando raises his voice and hands everyone a shot glass. Carefully, each of you takes one, careful not to spill any of the red liquid. ”Cheers!”
The drinks that make their way to your table over the next two hours taste so fantastically good that Kika and you doubt that there is much alcohol in them. The cocktails taste fantastic and the music puts everyone in a good mood, so you leave your table and hit the dance floor.
Your group dances to the beat that the DJ is playing like tipsy teenagers. Kika and you hold hands and dance together, causing the boys' eyes to almost pop out of their heads. The Portuguese woman presses her front against yours, her hands on your hips while yours are on her shoulders. And when she leans forward with pouting lips, you can't help but press a friendly kiss on her lips. You hear someone whistle – it's definitely Pierre – and when you both pull away from each other, you have to laugh.
Kika puts her arm around your shoulders and the other around Charles. “I can't believe I kissed this beauty here before you did, Leclerc,” she grins.
Charles looks at you with rosy cheeks, but his words are directed at Kika. “Is she a good kisser?”
“The best kisser I ever had,” the brunette replies with a grin before letting go of you and throwing her arms around her boyfriend.
Charles and you look at each other uncertainly.
Well, why haven't you kissed each other yet?
The thought is haunting your mind, but you can't answer the question.
Doesn't Charles want to kiss you? You've definitely done things that are definitely not PG-rated. You can almost feel his spent between your thighs and his lips on your neck, the tip of his cock nudging against your clit and –
Why haven't you kissed each other?
The Monegasque seems to notice your thoughts, but before he can say anything, Kika grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar. You lean against the counter and wait for one of the bartenders to notice you when your friend takes your hand.
“Is everything okay?” She asks, raising her eyebrows in concern.
“Why do you ask?” you reply with a counter question.
When a bartender reaches you, Kika orders your drinks. "I didn't want it to be weird between you and Charles. I'm sorry.”
You smile weakly at her and give her a quick hug. ’It's all right. We won't let this ruin our evening, okay?”
“You know you can always talk to me, right?” She asks, tilting her head. ‘You can call me day or night and I'll come to you. I promise.”
Your smile grows wider. "I'm already aware of that.”
“And I really love you, you know that?“ She puts her hands on your upper arms and hugs you tightly. Apparently, Kika gets emotional when she's drunk.
“I love you too,” you return her embrace, and when the bartender puts your drinks in front of you, you both toast.
“To the coolest girls, aka us,” she grins. As you both take a sip, someone taps her on the shoulder. Your best friend turns around and apparently she knows the young woman standing behind her, because she pulls her into a fleeting embrace before introducing you. ”Querida, this is Elena. She is also a model.”
In front of you stands a breathtaking beauty. With her brown hair, dark eyes and dark complexion, she looks as if she has just flown in from vacation. She is wearing a black and white dress that highlights her figure and accentuates exactly the right places to make her look flawless.
You smile at her and introduce yourself as well. “Nice to meet you,” you say and extend your hand, but Elena kisses you on the left and then on the right cheek.
“It's nice to meet you, too,” she replies with a smile before approaching you. ”Wait. Wipe below your eyebrows. You have some mascara on there.”
Without questioning her remark, you do as she says, and apparently it's good, because both women look at you with satisfaction afterwards. “Thank you,” you say. “That's very nice.”
Elena waves it off. ‘Don't worry. I'd want someone to tell me that too." She leans against the bar. ”You already have your drinks, right? Should I order shots for us?” she asks, but before either of you can answer, she is already talking to the bartender, who quickly prepares a cocktail and sets down three shot glasses in front of her. "Here you go," she says, handing each of you one of the glasses.
After you've clinked glasses and emptied the small glasses, Kika fishes her cell phone out of her purse. ”Should we take a picture? I'm already drunk, but I definitely want a few more, and I don't think they'll get any better as the evening goes on,” she giggles, tapping someone on the shoulder to take a photo of you. First one of Kika and you, and then one of the three of you.
“What's your name on Instagram?” Elena asks you, also digging out her phone so you can type your username into the search bar. When your profile pops up, she immediately clicks the follow button.
Your phone lights up and the notification pops up on the lock screen, and when you tap it, you confirm her request and follow her right back.
Her profile has a very aesthetic and artistic touch. Every picture is exactly where it should be. The colors all match and at the top of her biography is actually her full name: Elena Montpellier – one million followers – model at Bijou Management agency.
“I didn't know that Lando had invited you,” Kika says to Elena, who just shrugs.
“I'm here with friends,“ she replies as the three of you return to your seating area. "A friend of mine knows Martin and asked me if I wanted to come. And as if I'd stay at home when Martin is playing here in the club.”
Confused, you look from one beauty to the other. "So who is this Martin?” you ask hesitantly, afraid that Elena will laugh at you.
But she doesn't. Quite the opposite. She slides closer to you and tells you about Martin, who is apparently a world-famous DJ. On her cell phone, she shows you videos of his shows and the crowds in front of which he usually performs, but in none of the sequences can you see his face. But suddenly she puts her cell phone down and motions for you to look up. “Speak of the devil.”
Your men join you and, like you, they have someone new with them. The face looks incredibly familiar. He kisses each of the girls on the cheek before introducing himself to you. And then it clicks.
“Oh my God,” you gasp before he can say a word. ‘You're Martin Garrix.”
“That's me,’ he replies, visibly confused, glancing briefly at Lando, who puts his arm around your shoulder – skilfully ignoring Charles' scowl.
“My friend here hasn't been in this industry for very long,“ he explains, gently pulling you over to his side. "This is all still pretty new.”
Martin looks back at you from Lando. ’Then I'm glad you're here today,” he smiles. “How did you end up with these guys, if you don't mind me asking?”
You're about to open your mouth to answer him, but Charles is faster. “She's my best friend,” he replies, standing next to you, his arm around your waist. He glances at Lando, who quickly removes his arm from your shoulder and catches your uncertain glance.
“Okay, cool,” Martin simply replies. ”I still have about half an hour before I have to go to the desk. So, what's going on in your lives?”
While everyone is chatting, you hold back and watch. Pierre and Lando are talking, while Charles, Elena and Martin have moved closer together and the latter is showing something on his cell phone to the other two. You lean back into the couch and sip on your cocktail, Kika leaning on you.
“I'm sorry he introduced you as his best friend,” she says, only audible to you.
When you shrug, her head wobbles. “It's okay. I've made my peace with it,” you reply with a half-truth.
Of course, you would prefer to be more than just his best friend – after all, you share a bed and the images of his expression when he came and painted your thighs refuse to leave you – but if his friendship is all you get from him, then that's that.
“Please take care of yourself.” Kika raises her head and looks at you anxiously. ”I don't want you to get hurt. You've already been through so much.”
You gently press a kiss on her forehead. “I appreciate your concern.” Your gaze flickers over to Charles, who is now talking only to Elena. He shows her something on his phone and they both have to laugh. The woman leans forward a little to get a better look at the screen, but holds her neckline of the dress so that you can't see inside.
Charles eyes move from his screen to you, without looking at Elena once.
You smile at him, but before he can return it, the woman next to him says something and his attention is back to her, as if you weren't there. Maybe he just wants to be polite, after all, Pascale has taught him well and Charles is not one who just -
“Hi,” someone interrupts your train of thought and when you look up, Martin is standing in front of you. "I'm going to the DJ booth now and I thought you might like to join me," he suggests. ”As a kind of welcome and an apology for being so strange just now.”
You raise your eyebrows in wonder. “Actually, I should be the one to apologize. I'm not quite into the ‘famous people know other famous people’ thing yet. I'm sorry.”
Martin waves it off. “Don't worry. It takes some getting used to. But maybe it will help if you support me at the DJ booth.” He holds out his hand.
“I've never done this before. So I can't guarantee anything,” you smile, which makes him laugh.
“I'll show you everything. And if necessary, you can just stand next to me and look beautiful, but that shouldn't be a problem.“
“All right.” Without hesitation, you put your hand in his and he helps you to your feet. You take a quick glance at Kika, who grins at you and pushes the rest of your cocktail into your free hand, wishing you lots of fun.
Your eyes flicker over to Charles, whose eyes are already glued to you. He doesn't seem to notice Elena at all, she talks and talks and apparently shows him something without realizing that his attention is not on her right now. He looks from your face to your hand, which is still holding Martin's, so that he can guide you through the crowd in a moment.
It doesn't feel right to hold another man's hand, even if it's just for a moment. It should be Charles' hand holding yours. Charles' fingers entwined with yours. But Charles is sitting there with Elena, knee to knee.
“Are you okay?” Martin asks, looking from you to Charles, who can't take his eyes off the two of you.
You swallow and smile at him. “I'm fine.”
“Are you sure?” the DJ asks implausibly. “Charles looks at me as if he wants to kill me. You're just friends, aren't you?”
With your eyes fixed on Charles, you answer him. "Best friends," you correct him with the words of the Monegasque, before turning to Martin. ”Shall we?”
"With pleasure.”
As the two of you leave the seating area and you don't turn around to catch the eye of your best friend, Charles clenches his jaw.
He already knows the feeling that is welling up inside of him, but last time it was Lando who triggered it and he had to work on himself not to see the Brit as competition. Which is complete nonsense, because Charles knows that Lando would never come between the two of you, not after he called the Monegasque and put him in his place while he was in Italy.
And Charles knows that he has nothing to worry about. He is the man you go home with later. He is the man you share your bed with at night. He is the man who will later push up your dress and is allowed to touch you where you need him most.
He knows all of this. And yet there is nothing he can do about it, except feel increasingly jealous with every step you take away from him.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x yn#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic
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hello! can i request a dr3 x black cat! reader? we all know dr is like a golden retriever and the dynamic with a tough, badass r, i feel would be so good! it gets to the point where the grid is like “mate your gf is kinda scary” and are legitimately scared of her (except for max, and danny tries to tell them shes not). but one night maybe dr (+more) get tooo drunk and the grid sees how caring and loving r really is (takes care of them) and understands that shes just a tough exterior with a soft loving interior please?
if not, its all good!! thank you 🤍
Opposites Attract
summary: Daniel’s the only person who knows how to crack your hard exterior
pairing: black cat! f!reader x golden retriever! Daniel Ricciardo
warnings: mention of drinking, you are responsible for the content you consume
a/n: I love this prompt!! I truly think Danny has the personality fit for a black cat! gf. hope you enjoy!
Daniel loves to smile, a lot. It’s kinda his thing. If Daniel Ricciardo isn’t smiling then something is seriously wrong. You can’t forget about his contagious laugh that livens up any space he’s in. Overall, he’s just a ray of sun bursting with joy.
So you can imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces when he introduced you as his girlfriend. You, the stoic, keeps-to-herself, only-shows-minimal-expressions girl dating Daniel, the golden retriever of the grid.
To any outsider the relationship dynamic didn’t really make sense. But, to be fair, compared to many other wives and girlfriends of the grid, you keep your life fairly private. You accompany Daniel to his races, you watch the race then you’re ready to go home as soon as the last car crosses the finish line. And, unlike many of the other drivers’ better halves, modeling and being in front of the camera is not your thing.
“I can’t tell if she hates me or likes me? She seems a little intimidating.” Lando says to Daniel one day. Daniel has introduced you to many of his mates and you’ve gotten to know many of them on a personal level outside of the paddock. Your stoicism once again triumphing in confusing the drivers.
“No, she does like you, Lando.” Daniel says. “I know she’s hard to read sometimes but she enjoys the company.”
This was a conversation Daniel found himself having often with other drivers. While you did fraternize with the other ladies, your social battery was quick to wear out on long weekends. Often excusing yourself from conversations because you were tired and could only handle so much interaction in one go.
However, after one race weekend, Daniel somehow convinced you to go out with a group of the drivers and their partners. It was a good race for Daniel, he placed P8, so of course a celebration of points was in order.
“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He tried reasoning with you. He had tried many times before in convincing you to go to a bar or club to celebrate. Only once before was he successful, and that was because it was to celebrate his birthday.
“And, we don’t even have to stay that long” he began “just have a couple drinks, mingle a little bit then leave.”
Now that was a plan you could get behind.
“Okay, I guess.” You said, sighing in defeat. It was one night, that wouldn’t kill you. And who knows, maybe people would see you’re not all that emotionless after all.
The night was going along just fine. Drinks were served, conversations were had, music was played. Max somehow ended up dancing on top of a table which resulted in Daniel joining him.
You and the other girls giggled at the sight of the grown men acting like college frat boys at a rush party. Yes, you giggled too. Lando saw it. He tried to take a mental note, amidst his drunken state, of the expression of emotion you had. Who knows if anyone would ever see that again.
“Mate did you just see Daniel’s girl smile?” Lando asked Charles who was standing close by. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mental note he made after all.
Before you knew it, the clock had gone way past midnight and many more drinks were had. You, however, tapped out after two drinks. Someone in the relationship needed to be the coherent one for the night and it sure wasn’t going to be Daniel.
“Babe, I love this song!” Daniel shouted over top of DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love as he stumbled towards you and the rest of the group. Once he was standing next to you he started dancing, terribly, attempting to twerk or at least move his butt in a what he thought to be a provocative manner.
As he bumped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene you had now been brought into. Your almost six foot tall boyfriend acting like a newly turned twenty one year old at a bar for the first time. It was truly comical in the way he moved. For being as tall as he was, dancing for him was quite the sight, his lanky arms moving every which way with no rhythm at all.
“Baby dance with me” he whined reaching out to hold your waist and slightly slurring his words in the meantime. He was quite gone. The thing about alcohol and Danny was that it just heightened his golden retriever energy. He’s already very energetic and affectionate while sober, but inebriated? That’s a whole new level.
As much as you were reluctant to leave, you knew if Danny didn’t get to bed soon, the inevitable hangover in the morning would only be ten times worse.
“Okay honey, I think it’s time we head out.” You announce putting an arm around his waist to keep him upright. As soon as your arm is around his tall frame, he leans into your touch just like a puppy who hasn’t seen their human all day.
“But the party’s just getting started.” Daniel said pouting. Once again, a laugh escaped you before you could even process what was happening.
“I know, I know” you began as you put Daniel’s arm around your shoulder. “We can have more of a party later, okay?” You said patting his chest, trying to maneuver him in a way that would make it easy to walk out.
Before heading out, you announce your and Daniel’s departure and thank everyone for such a great night.
The group watches in amazement as you methodically guide Daniel around the crowd and head for the door. And they don’t miss the kiss you press to Daniel’s cheek along the way.
The guys are stunned to say the least.
“I think that’s the most personality I’ve seen from her ever.” Max exclaims, eyes wide at what he just witnessed.
“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak before.” Charles adds.
“It’s no wonder he chose her,” George begins, “she keeps him calm.”
So yeah, is your and Daniel’s relationship dynamic totally different on the outside? Sure. But he’s the only one who has managed to open up your heart just enough for him.
Opposites do attract after all.
Check out my Masterlist
#daniel riccardo x reader#triplefrontierbabef1#triplefrontierbaberequest#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo#danny ric#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 fic#black cat!reader#golden retriever
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COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs
Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader
⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan
⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.
*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter
p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh
Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.
Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.
That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.
Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.
You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.
Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.
Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?
Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)
Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)
König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.
You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)
Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.
You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.
Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.
I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?
As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3
#I fear my obsession with second chance romances is becoming a problem.#ghost x reader#König x reader#john price x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#keegan x reader#horangi x reader#price x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#keegan russ x reader#konig x reader#cod ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#soap cod#john price#kyle gaz garrick#König#König cod#konig#konig cod#horangi#kim horangi hong jin#keegan#dream daddy au
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Punch-Out Love
Artwork by @guruan
FIGHT NIGHT
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You're lucky enough to score ring-side seats at a boxing match on Friday night. Getting the best view in the house of boxing champion: Miguel O'Hara.
Word count: 1,500
Next Chapter
Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist
You know fuck all about boxing.
About the only thing you know about the sport was from the glimpses you caught watching scratched up old recordings of Muhammed Ali fights on the boxy mini-tv of your old childhood friend's house.
It always seemed barbaric. The practice of watching two human beings beat the shit out of each other for spectator's entertainment. It seems like something that was better left in the Ancient Roman times. Have we all human beings as a society, really not come further some 2,000 years later?
Your bestie used to get mad at you for this. Constantly defending the sport from your criticism, because (according to him) it's not just about smashing each other's faces in. Supposedly, there's an art to the sport. Boxers are taught to respect their opponents and adhere to the principles of good sportsmanship. It takes great mental discipline, dedicated work and years of hard and punishing training to master boxing.
You never saw any of that in the matches he showed you. All you saw were two men needlessly being hurt, sustaining brain damage for rich people's enjoyment.
Then again, he was more than a little bit biased, considering it was his dream to go pro one day. Tall and gangly, with his scrawny antelope legs, thick-rimmed glasses and big-ass braces, he looked like he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, much less another person. You never understood how exactly he thought he was going to make it as a boxer.
But you never found it in you to burst his unrealistic bubble when he used to point at the screen excitedly, drawing your attention to Ali's footwork and the artistry in it.
"It's like he's dancing," he used to say.
Except dancing is done with swelling music in the background. In dancing you often have a partner. It's an embrace. It's gentle and kind.
Boxing... was not that.
So you don't know how you managed to find yourself in the ringside seats of a local boxing match on a Friday evening, staring up at the boxing ring with the glaring ring lights shining into your eyes.
"Aren't these seats amazing?" Jess shouts excitedly over the familiar lyrics of ‘We Will Rock You' being belted out by Freddy Mercury on the loudspeaker.
You smile, and nod, because boxing-fan or not, she's right, these are some amazing seats. And considering you didn't have to pay a dime for them, personal aversions aside, you're never going to turn down free stuff.
Jess' husband tested positive for covid at the last minute, and you're the only one in your social circle that is anti-social and single enough to not have any plans on a Friday evening.
On the monitors above you, the menacing headshots of the two fighters swish into view.
"The first guy is an old reigning champ," she explains to you, as she leans in, shouting into your eardrums (and yet you can still barely make out what she's saying over the music). "The challenger is some new kid on the block. Has an amazing track record. Zero losses in the season. He's something else."
You look up at the gigantic screen, at the sharp cut cheeks, strong thick brows and the intense pitched brown eyes staring down at you.
Angry looking dude.
...Handsome too.
With a face like that, surely he could've gone into other careers. Calvin Klein model, movie star, or a news anchor. You wonder what makes a guy voluntarily have his face bashed in for money as a career.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud booming voice announces from the stage.
You jump in your seat from the suddenness, as you see a bald and overly formal dressed announcer in the middle of the ring.
"Welcome to the electrifying boxing showdown of the century! Are you ready to witness some knockout action tonight?"
The crowd around you cheers with a pandemonium of shouting and whistling.
"Introducing our first fighter, a true hometown hero! With an impressive record of 20 wins, 15 by knockout, and only 2 losses, standing at 6'3 feet, and weighing in at 340 pounds of determination and strength, give it up for ‘the Knockout King’ Bobby Kane!"
You watch as the reigning champion walks down the tunnel to the midst of adoring cheers as he waves and gestures at the crowd like royalty.
Every inch the king that he is nicknamed, he jumps over the rope and stands tall and proud over the ring.
The man is huge, bulging with almost grotesque muscles. He's so large that you almost expect each of his steps to send a reverberation throughout the hall, as if this was Jurassic Park and he's a T-Rex.
"Now, entering the ring with the confidence of a warrior, fighting out of the red corner, with 15 wins, 10 by knockout, and no losses, standing at an astounding 6 feet 9 inches, and weighing in at 310 pounds of raw power, let's hear it for tonight's challenger, ‘Steel Jaw’ Miguel O'Hara!"
Wait what? You do a double take at the announcement. Six foot nine?!?! What kind of giant is that?
From the far corner of the hall, you see his silhouette emerge, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. Tall doesn't even begin to describe him.
There's a 200 year oak tree at Central Park, and with the shadow this man casts, you think their height must be nearly comparable. If you thought the Knockout King was tall, the "King" is practically tiny compared to this challenger.
You watch, as the man with cheeks so sharp they mind as well be blades (and god never has a nickname made more sense to you) as he strides towards the stage. He reaches the rope and barely even has to climb over it with how tall he is.
He's leaner than his predecessor. Every inch of him is cut muscles and tanned gorgeous skin as he stands in front of you. His presence is electric. The air crackles where he stands, towering over the stage.
You swear that his towering height blocks out the ring lights with it, casting the stage in the darkness of his tall shadow.
Somehow, he's even prettier in person compared to the still image of him blown up and plastered on the big screen. Soft brown curls and pouty lips. You don't understand in what world a man like that is a professional fighter.
From this distance, with the way that the light refracts from his irises, his eyes almost glow with a scarlet red that takes your breath away as you look up at him and meet his eyes.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was staring at you.
The bell rings out, but he's not looking away. The intensity you find there is enough to make you swallow your tongue. Your face prickles with heat and for several long moments you forget to breathe, until the air seems to thin around you and your vision starts to swim.
Then he turns to face his opponent.
You're not quite sure where to look. There's so much happening at once. For his size, Miguel O'Hara is surprisingly deft on his feet. His footwork is somehow both unpredictable yet intentional all at once.
The King throws a strong punch, as he lunges forward, after his tall opponent. But O'Hara dodges them seemingly without effort. It's followed by punches so quick, the movements blur together.
Strike after strike. The King is giving it his all. But none of it properly connects. With every failed hit, you can see him growing increasingly more frustrated.
Your heart is in your lungs, and despite how close you are to the stage, you almost want to get up from your seat for a closer look.
Safe as you are behind the ropes, adrenaline rushes through your veins with a fury. You can't recall the last time you felt this ecstatic about... well, anything.
With each punch O’Hara dodges, you feel yourself lurch back in your seat, trying to dodge the punch with him.
It's titillating.
Exciting.
O'Hara's movements are precise and honed with intention despite the ferocity in his movements. Each one is measured and intricate and if you didn't know any better you'd almost call it graceful.
You think back to those moments in your childhood friend's home, and his excited words buzz in your ears now. For the first time ever you finally understand what he had meant.
It is like a dance.
Before you, O’Hara's eyes cross over in your direction and for a split of a second, you swear your eyes connect again. His gaze holds you there, pinned to your seat, and excitement shoots through the entirety of your spine until you feel lightheaded from the attention.
Then he finally steps forward, no longer evading.
It's brutal and efficient.
An uppercut that connects cleanly to his opponent's jaw.
Spit and blood flies out from the man's mouth, the flabby flesh of his cheek vibrating from the impact as he lands on the floor with an ear-shattering thud.
Then the guy is out.
Barely even eight minutes in.
There's a stunned and shocked silence. The crowd seems both enthralled and disappointed at how fast it all went. On the ring floor, you can practically see the circle of cartoon birds flying above the defeated King's head.
You may not know anything about boxing, but you know that this man is not getting up anytime soon, no matter how far the referee counts.
Tearing your eyes away from the motionless body splayed out on the ground elevated above you, you can see the victor towering menacingly over the body.
But Miguel O'Hara isn't even looking at his defeated opponent
No, his eyes are staring straight into the sea of awestruck spectators. Except he’s not looking at them.
He's looking at you.
~ Next.
Author's note: What's that you say? CiCi wtf are you doing starting another series when you already got one going on? ... Idek man. But I hope you guys enjoy it, cause I had a blast writing it, smut will ensue in later chapters I promise!
Dedications and Credits: Buckle up it's gonna be a big one!
Firstly to @guruan when I say she's my muse THIS IS WHAT I MEAN! Look at that beautiful artwork. I am drooling into my panties. I am crying between my legs. I am so damn horny! I cannot thank this amazingly talented genius enough. Please please give this wonderful brilliant human your love by following her, and drop by her KO-FI SHOP cause the art this woman bless us with is UN-fucking-REAL
Then to @djarinsbeskar who put this idea into my head. In my mind she is the OG Boxer AU champion and mastermind. If you are in the mood for more boxing content, she has a wonderful, devastatingly sexy series Boxer!Din AU that is just woof woof bark bark.
#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara fanfic#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#oscar isaac#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse fanfiction#spiderverse#spiderverse fanfiction#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you
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Whenever there's a crime in the town that has to deal with old Japanese cars, I'm the guy they call to solve it. My name is Detective Archibald Shitpope, and this is not one of those cases. Once in awhile, and I know it's hard to believe, something happens that's not about vintage Nipponese iron.
I was hand-washing my manual-swapped '92 Sera in the parking lot of the station when I heard a loud sigh from the next car over. It was my sometimes-lunch-buddy, sometimes-drinking-buddy Investigator Lionel Tout. He came from England, as part of a "detective transfer" that involved us finally getting rid of Detective Giorgio Mustang, who I genuinely hated. Dude would sit in the detective's bullpen and make idling-cammed-V8 noises the entire time he was thinking. I hope he enjoys Luxembourg and never wants to come back.
Tout, though, was a special case. His fixation? Trains. You've got three guesses what mode of transportation we don't have in our city. Hell, a few years back, the mayor then ordered the removal of the federal cargo train lines, convinced that A) he could sell the tracks for quick cash to a metal scrapper, and B) self-driving cars would soon deliver all of our stuff. Zero for two there, hoss, which is why he was literally crucified during an elementary-school Christmas play. That wasn't on the kids. It was the janitor trying to use it as a convenient way to dispose of a body. I got the call, because he had a 4Runner, but the responding officers figured it out real fast before I got there.
Tout came to town after that. Every day, he got a little more depressed that he wasn't able to solve crimes anymore. Back in Europe, he told me, he once solved a locked-room murder mystery. An heiress (or countess, I can't remember which) had lost her crown jewels and a man died to cover it up. Big deal in all the news, but Tout made the mistake of fixating too much on the train and not enough on the press. Solved the case, but his rival on the force got the promotion to Inspector First Class and the rest is history. Now he's here, drowning his sorrows in a mug full of rum shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine. And that gave me an idea.
That night, I phoned Tout at home. "Inspector," I tried to sound as much like a frightened old dispatch-desk lady as possible, "they've found a body at Uncle Steamy's Good-Time Hobby Emporium. You better get over there right away!"
The rest was all a detective's dream: a murder scene amongst a jealous swarm of model train hobbyists. Tons of passionate suspects, all with inconvenient alibis. A spiral of clues easily missed by lesser mortals. No security camera footage. And at the end of it, a perfect accusation and a tearful confession.
As he carried a perp (Jimmy One-Shoe, formerly arrested for foot crimes at the Payless) to the squad car, he noticed something sitting on the back seat. A little scale model of a Japanese Odakyu Limited Express "Romancecar."
Merry Christmas, Inspector. If the chief asks where I've been for the last two weeks, you tell him I was doing some detective shit, alright?
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𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader
— part ten
plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!
words: 1.9k (1967)
extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part eleven! I also realized that maybe I write shorter chapters better, so abandon the 2.5/3k word chapters
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk
Since the parade had taken place you had completely returned to the path you were on, as if the hatred that so many had directed at you had dematerialized: on the one hand you appreciated this thing, but on the other it still made you so angry when you remembered how they had treated you. Many agencies, both German and foreign, had asked you to collaborate, but you had decided that for the moment you would only stay with TraumLaufsteg, which still had many answers to give you; you still wanted to understand what kind of relationship there was between Ursula and Gabriel, and how he was one of the founders. These were questions that tormented you at night, but for some time now you have been spending them more peacefully in Kaiser's arms, where you felt good
The media had begun to suspect the alleged relationship between you and the German prodigy, but beyond speculation there was obviously nothing confirmed. You and Michael were careful to keep things low profile, as complicated as it was for both of you. No one had yet understood that you had moved back in with him, and no one should have understood that now hugs weren't the only thing you exchanged
Michael had been on tour in the Berlin border areas for a week now, and for convenience he didn't come home, as much as he wanted to. You missed him, but he would be back in less than a few days, so you were happy. Life with Kaiser was going great, and that made you fall in love with him even more. The only problem was that Gabriel had suddenly started managing the company's models, including you: this meant being in contact with him more than necessary, and as much as I didn't want to, it was work
"Okay, one last time, whole runway" says the man sitting in his comfortable chair, while you and the other seven models return to the starting position. You had been doing the exact same thing since this morning only with different clothes, and if it hadn't been for the presence of your ex you would surely have been happier. You take a deep breath, taking the first position as the top model. You start walking, gaze fixed and movements flowing, swinging the wide skirt you had to wear as a test. You walk the entire length, reaching the tip where you put a hand on your hip, looking at the imaginary audience and then walking back, always with the same grace. The other models repeat the gesture taking their time, but you always feel Gabriel's gaze on you
He always looks at you, as if it were something that would make him breathe. Even when the attention should be on the other models, his gaze doesn't move from your figure, and you can't do much more than glare at him. Since he started working with you again, he has this toxic habit, which always makes you feel bad even though you haven't done anything. It gets worse when Ursula is with him, who occasionally attends the rehearsals next to the man: it makes you laugh a little how she tries to get his attention, failing miserably... and yet on the day of the show they seemed like best friends. Ursula doesn't talk much with her models, much less with you, so you don't know much about this woman who, in your opinion, knows a lot about you
"Okay ladies. Monica, more movement, you're modeling, not going shopping... and Iseut, more expressions, you have a cute face, use it. Also for our top model..." says the man, waking you up from your thoughts and noticing that everyone has modeled "Nothing to say, we all know she's a professional" he says giggling slightly, and while the others nod you want to do nothing more than go to him and strangle him. You hate his behavior, you hate everything about him and how he tries to flatter you every time. You'd be tempted to intentionally screw up everything to see his reaction, but at the same time it's not like you to ruin your always impeccable work for someone like that, unworthy of so much fame
You are about to leave the room to go to your dressing room and finally call your boyfriend, when you hear the doors of the rehearsal room open, and two video cameras enter followed by Ursula herself. You are surprised by this, because from what you knew from the other models in the agency access to the video cameras is prohibited
The cameras are roaming around the room, as you and the other models stare at them. You hear someone muttering something confused about this, and you don't know how to react even though you've been used to being in the spotlight for years now. You don't know why, but it stinks
Ursula stands next to Gabriel, and from the knowing smile they exchange you understand that the bomb you were waiting for is probably about to explode right now. The stylist's snake-like gaze looks you over, and a cold shiver runs down your spine as you watch the cameras finally settle in front of the two buddies, who are now scenographically side by side. You need to leave now, because the situation is feeling stranger by the second, and you don't like
"Welcome to the agency! Gabriel and I are very honored to be able to give you the opportunity to document life in the TraumLaufsteg, which for a long time has not given such a chance to anyone. Feel free to ask me and our models anything you have in mind" says Ursula in front of the first camera, while Gabriel nods "You have entered at the end of the shift of the models who will participate in the next fashion show, I was just taking care of that" he says charismatically, and the woman nods. One of the two video cameras is put down, while the man holding it comes in front of the screen, probably taking the place of the interviewer "Could you tell us more about the next show?" says the man "You can ask our models, they are ready to answer" says Gabriel, and the object moves towards you, catching you off guard. You and all the others know how to handle the situation, it is a quality that you have to acquire if you do this job, but it is still strange
The interviewer approaches, taking the girl at your side "Could you tell me how a normal shift goes?" he asks, and the woman shows off her best smile while improvising some cool answers, but in truth you don't listen to. Gabriel's oppressive gaze, now a few meters away from you, continues to stare at you with an almost maniacal smile, the same one that Ursula gives you. You gulp down a lump of saliva as you fix your hair, trying to ignore the situation. "How does it feel to walk with an internationally famous model?" the interviewer suddenly asks, and the woman remains silent for a few seconds, honestly not knowing how to respond. They all know who the man is referring to, and you can't help but smile at the camera filming you, one that actually hides a bit of anxiety and perplexity underneath
The woman remains silent, smiling nervously. The interviewer now turns to you, the microphone pointed at your mouth. “This would be the first interview you’ve had since the break” he says, and you nod. “It would have come sooner or later. You’ve obviously had more luck than the others” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as usual. The man nods “You’re probably right. How does it feel to be back on the catwalk?” he asks “Oh, it feels great. I’ve missed doing the usual things, and going back to the catwalk was like getting some fresh air after keeping my face under water for too long” you say. The microphone shakes a bit "And why choose an agency right here in Germany? And then, such a small one" he says, and you understand why Gabriel was smiling before. You suspect that they are ready-made questions, that they are aimed at putting you in difficulty and make you look like an idiot
"Well, I moved to Germany a while ago, and starting again with an Italian agency would have been uncomfortable because of the country difference. I chose TraumLaufsteg because I saw potential, and I would say I made the right choice when I see the results of the last show" you say, using all the trump cards you can give. It's a smooth answer, but it doesn't reveal anything wrong, or at least that's what you think
"How coincidental, however, to choose TraumLaufsteg, which is precisely the agency where Gabriel is the founder. Is there something in between this choice? After all, there has been a lot of chaos between your boyfriend and you in the last few weeks" says the man, and finally you understand that it is all a trap from the beginning, designed only to advance the main topic, that is, you and Gabriel. You see an immense satisfaction in the man, and you can't help but want to kill him
"There is absolutely no correlation between my choice and the situation you are talking about, since my ex and I are no longer together. I saw potential in the TraumLaufsteg without asking myself too many questions about who the founders were" you say in a serious tone, one that has the aim of not letting anything but your disgust transpire. The interviewer looks surprised, as does Gabriel who leaves Ursula's side, taking steps towards you. You watch him approach, feeling yourself suffocated with each step that brings you closer. He comes to your side, making his way through the models, putting his arm around your waist. Your eyes widen, moving to step aside, but his firm grip doesn't let you move. He smiles at the camera, as if nothing's wrong. If he wants to play like a jerk he's doing it perfectly
"My Y/n is just kidding, we all know in the industry how her humor can almost seem truthful. I don't know what's going on in her head, I just know that we are definitely not exes" he says playfully in front of the camera, which frames the two of you while you are doing everything you can to keep him away. You look at him disgusted, like you have never looked at anyone before. He wants to change the story every time to suit his own convenience, first calling you a traitor and now again calling you his girlfriend
It only takes a second for you to feel his lips crush yours. Your blood runs cold as you feel the sickening sensation you had forgotten and that had comforted you for so many years. He lingers on your lips, feeling them as he always has. You move to pull away, but it's no use because of his firm grip. You would like to cry, slap him, push him as far away from you as possible, but you can't do anything but remain perplexed by the gesture, appearing in front of the camera like a dead person. Now that you've gotten used to only Kaiser's lips, why do you feel those who have only spoken badly of you?
"See? Couple as always" says Gabriel, joking with the interviewer. You watch it disgusted, and everyone on television could tell that you were clearly not comfortable. Because yes, unbeknownst to you this was live nationally
And a certain blond German soccer player was watching the scene in his cold hotel room
tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan (if you want to be tagged tell me!)
#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk x female reader#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#bllk#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock x y/n#bluelock x you#bluelock x reader#bluelock manga#blue lock anime#blue lock season 2#bllk anime#bllk manga#blue lock kaiser#bllk kaiser#micheal kaiser#kaiser michael#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#micheal kaiser x reader#michael kaiser#blue lock michael kaiser#bllk michael kaiser#blue lock x you#blue lock imagines#blue lock leaks
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Badge Bunny Meet Ugly
Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader
Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.
Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.
18+ Only! MDNI!
Word Count: 14.5K
Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.
Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.
Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.
“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.
It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.
The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.
It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.
It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.
Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.
“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.
“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”
“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”
“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”
“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.
“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.
Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.
It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.
You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.
The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.
You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.
The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.
“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.
Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.
“Evening, Officer…”
“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.
“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.
“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”
“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”
“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”
You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.
“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”
He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.
You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.
Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.
You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.
“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.
“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”
“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.
He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.
The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.
“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.
"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.
"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”
"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”
"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.
You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.
The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”
“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”
“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.
“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”
“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”
“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”
“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”
The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.
No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.
The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.
Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.
“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.
“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”
“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”
Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.
You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.
“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.
“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”
“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.
“Thanks Maggie.”
You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.
He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.
Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.
Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.
Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.
The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.
You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.
Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.
He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.
“This happen often?” You asked him.
“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.
You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.
It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.
One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.
He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.
His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.
Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.
You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.
Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.
You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.
With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.
You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.
Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.
He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.
“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”
So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.
“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.
He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.
“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.
You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.
You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.
“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.
“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.
You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”
“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”
“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”
“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.
“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.
“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.
“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.
You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.
“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.
“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.
“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.
He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.
“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”
He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.
He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.
You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.
Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.
You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.
The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.
You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.
He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.
Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.
He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.
He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.
He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.
He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.
It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.
The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.
Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.
Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.
Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.
You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.
The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.
“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”
He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”
“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.
“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.
“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”
“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.
He shook his head and watched you go.
“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?
The following week he seemed to be everywhere.
He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.
A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.
The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.
You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.
“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.
He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.
You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”
“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.
He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.
“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”
“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.
“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”
“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.
You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.
As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”
You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.
“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.
“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.
“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”
“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.
“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”
“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.
“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”
“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.
“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?” You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?
“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.
He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.
“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”
You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.
“And you think you're just the man for the job?”
“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.
Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.
“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.
His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.
“Have a good night, Deputy.”
You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.
Two weeks.
Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.
Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.
You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.
“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.
“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.
He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.
It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.
It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.
Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.
Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.
Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.
Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.
“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.
His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?
“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.
His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.
“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”
“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”
He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”
“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.
“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.
“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.
“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.
“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”
He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.
He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.
“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”
“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.
He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.
He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.
There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.
He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.
“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.
“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.
There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.
“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”
That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.
“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”
You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.
Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.
You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.
You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.
“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.
He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.
He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.
He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.
“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.
“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.
“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.
“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.
“What? What are you…”
“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”
The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”
He sat quietly for another moment.
“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”
You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.
“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.
He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.
“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”
“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.
He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.
Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.
It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.
“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”
He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.
He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.
You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.
He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.
His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.
He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.
His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.
Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.
You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.
It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.
He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.
You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.
“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.
“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.
“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.
His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.
“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?
As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.
He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.
You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.
He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.
You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.
He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.
You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.
“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.
“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.
“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”
This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.
“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”
You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.
He pulled back slightly to look down at you.
“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”
His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.
Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.
His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.
You were positively soaked, glistening before him.
Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.
He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.
“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.
He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.
You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.
“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.
“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.
“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.
You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.
“Please what baby?”
You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.
“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.
He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.
He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.
He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.
Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.
He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.
You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.
You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.
“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.
He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.
He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.
Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.
It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.
He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.
Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.
“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”
Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.
The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.
Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.
He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”
Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.
“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”
He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.
His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.
He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.
“You good?” He finally asks.
There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.
You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.
He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.
“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”
He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.
“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.
He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.
“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.
“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”
You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.
You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.
“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”
You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.
“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.
He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.
“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.
“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.
“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.
He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.
At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.
“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”
You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.
“Ok big boy, let's go.”
The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.
“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.
“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.
“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.
“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.
You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.
You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.
“I know it's not much,” you began.
“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.
He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.
He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.
For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.
As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.
You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.
Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.
“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.
You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.
Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.
Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.
“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.
You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.
He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.
His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.
He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.
“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.
“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.
You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.
“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.
You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.
His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.
You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.
You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.
You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.
As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.
You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.
“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.
It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.
“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.
“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.
“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”
“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.
“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.
You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.
You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.
His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.
He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.
You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.
You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.
“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.
He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.
“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.
He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.
“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.
“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.
He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.
He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.
The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.
You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.
You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.
You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.
“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.
His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.
“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.
His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.
“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.
Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.
He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.
Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.
He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.
He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.
“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.
You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”
His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.
The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.
He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.
“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.
“You sure?”
“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”
He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.
“What are you…?”
“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”
You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.
“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.
He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.
You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.
“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”
You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.
His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.
“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”
“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.
He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.
When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.
He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.
He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”
“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.
You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.
“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.
“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.
He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.
“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”
He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.
“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.
“Yes! Cum in me!”
“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”
His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.
You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.
He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.
He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.
Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.
“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.
“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.
His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.
“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”
He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.
He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.
“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”
It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.
“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.
You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.
When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.
Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.
Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.
The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.
You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.
You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.
Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.
He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.
He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.
Where the fuck are you?
He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.
He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.
Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.
He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.
He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.
He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.
You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.
You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.
Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.
You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.
You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.
You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.
Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.
Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.
One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.
He had responded to your text later that day with:
Sure bunny. you free tonite?
You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.
It had been like that most nights since.
There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.
Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.
You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.
And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.
You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.
He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.
The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.
His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.
He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.
“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.
Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.
“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.
“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.
He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.
You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.
The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.
You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.
After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.
He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.
“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.
“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.
“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.
“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.
“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”
“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.
Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.
It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.
A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.
It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.
It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.
The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.
You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.
Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.
You still in town?
Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.
Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.
Can we talk?
I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?
Hello?
You groaned, sitting up.
Finally relenting and typing out a reply.
You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.
It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.
You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.
You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.
You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.
“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.
Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.
“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.
“Move Gator.” You hissed.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.
“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”
You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.
“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.
Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.
“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”
“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”
“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.
If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.
If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?
“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.
He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.
“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.
You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.
“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”
You brought a finger to his lips.
“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.
“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”
You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?
You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.
His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.
Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.
He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.
“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”
“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.
“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.
He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.
“Fuck, so wet.”
“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.
He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.
Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”
Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.
He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.
You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.
He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.
“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.
Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.
The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.
“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”
“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”
You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.
Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.
“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.
“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”
He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.
He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.
“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.
Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.
“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”
You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.
“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.
He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.
“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”
“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.
“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.
“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.
“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.
You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.
He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.
He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.
It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.
After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.
The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.
He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.
You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.
He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.
The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.
As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.
You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.
“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.
“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.
“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”
“I haven't thought about it.”
He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”
He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.
“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”
He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.
“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.
He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”
Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.
You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.
He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.
“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.
“You'll see. C'mon.”
You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.
“Whose house is this?”
“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.
It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.
“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.
“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.
“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”
You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”
“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.
"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.
"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”
"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.
"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."
"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”
You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.
“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”
He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.
“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.
“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.
No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.
Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.
#gator tillman#🐊#gator tillman fanfiction#gator tillman smut#gator tillman x fem!reader#gator tillman x reader#gator x fem!reader#gator smut#gator tillman fic#gator tillman fargo s5#gator x reader#joe keery fargo#fargo season 5#badge bunny series#gator x badge bunny#gator x bunny#gator x you
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Lets start this day with some big news! Our little Flora is officially too big for her crib which means she's grown some! They do grow fast, don't they? It's almost hard to keep up!
Just look at her! My little princesa! She's wiggling and cooing and happy as can be and what else is there to say? I'm soaking in the moment with her and have little else to say. I just feel so lucky and fortunate and I know I keep saying this but all my love is for her right now!
I would have played with her a little more but I think all that growing wore her out, as it tends to do, so I would let her have her nap and whip up a pizza! Pizzas are easy to make thankfully and this one will just be a regular classic pepperoni as you can't go wrong with that. I think I do make a pretty good pizza pie! That's amore!
I think the scent of pizza brings Pascal to the kitchen but when he arrives he's looking a little sad. I admit, the frown on his face makes me forget for a moment that he's been oogling models in his spare time and I can't wait to offer my emotional support.
"What's wrong?" I ask, putting aside his wandering eyes for just a moment. I bet it has something to do with futbol, usually if he's sad that is why, but I can't ignore one significant difference about him. "You umm, forget to shave?"
"That's just it, my razor broke and I might have to go out like this," he looks so disheartened even as he rubs the new beard that now adorns his face.
"You look great! In fact, I'd say keep it!"
"Well, if you say so."
I can't help but chuckle at how dramatic he's being. "You look fine either way! Actually, I think it suits you! You're a daddy now and it matures you some."
"I guess it's not so bad..." he mumbles although the frown on his face doesn't budge. I remind him that there is fresh pizza in the kitchen so if that doesn't make him feel a little better than I don't know what will.
I've decided not to bring up the model oogling just yet. Eventually, yes, but right now I just don't feel it is the right time. I've thought a lot about it last night but I want to keep those thoughts to the side, not let them consume me. He's a man. I know, that's a poor excuse, but it is also the truth. It is also the truth that really I'm still very very very much into him and that right now is enough for me to set it aside and give him the benefit of the doubt.
Instead, my mind drifts to bigger things, longer term things, another baby kind of things and maybe, hopefully, a proposal. Yeah, the big M. I can't help but wonder when it will happen or...if it will happen.
I'll be honest, I probably would've spent the rest of the night overthinking about Pascal's liking history on Simstagram but the moment I see Flora's little face it grounds me completely. She's the result of our passion and love and I won't throw that away on a whim. Feeding her, holding her, playing with her reminds me of what truly matters.
Oh! She loves to hiccup! That makes her a hiccuper? It's the most adorable thing, it's a squeaky little sound and whenever she does it she almost looks confused as if she's asking 'did I do that?' and I have to remind her to have manners! A little lady doesn't go around hiccuping at others after all!
And I love her so much that I am taking her everywhere I go in my little carrier. Thankfully, she's a quiet one and she's pretty calm about being carried around. Only wriggling and cooing here and there and hopefully taking in what will hopefully be her home for many years to come.
Oh! Also, as I'm out and about, I notice that people are recognizing me? Nothing major, a few waves and hellos along with my name "Frida!" and I can't help but wonder is it from my food stand or me new growing SimTube channel? Either way, it does feel nice to be noticed! There's even a fellow food stand chef who offered me a free hotdog but I had to decline because Flora started to whine and flail, her way of wanting to go back home I think.
Oh, and Pascal did spend time with Flora after he came back from a game. I SWEAR she was giving him the side-eye. I might have ummm vented to her about the traveling eyes of men. Not that she could understand a word I've said but maybe, just maybe, she picked up on it in my tone...or it could be she's unsure of him because she really doesn't get to see him too much, he's always working, after all.
Meanwhile, in the poorer part of town, Sara and Simón were curled up together in his humble trailer. He had called her over saying that there was something important they needed to discuss but it didn't end up being much of a conversation. Instead, he simply asked for her loyalty and her love.
She wanted to, she wanted him to be the one, Watcher how she wanted to. He could be her escape, her distraction, her addiction, her everything, how she wanted every bit of that, but she knows oft times the heart doesn't get what it wants. The brain though, the brain can be a lot more realistic with its desires.
"I know what you are," she said suddenly, the realization blowing past her like a chill breeze. Her hands roamed his chest, the tips of her fingers searching for something, reassurance, maybe? The mystery of him perhaps, the missing puzzle piece that would make this thing between them work.
"I know you'd figure it out," his reply was quiet and his voice heavy. He wasn't shocked. He wouldn't deny it or talk her out of it. He couldn't run from his past like Frida because he had become his past and now as he looked at Sara he wondered if she could ever be part of his future. If she should. The danger he could put her through..."So, what do you think?"
"I don't want this to end," she decided, the words surprising even herself. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth the risk. Love is always worth the risk...
Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.5
#The Sims#The Sims 4#ts4#Sims#Sims 4#sims legacy#my sims#generation 1#soot#sims of our time#pascal alcocer#frida varela#simon barrera#sara chavez#florencia alcocer
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STARSTURNS - M.S
summery - going out to a concert with one of y/n friends, a weird turn is taken when matt makes a move.
notes - SMUT, ROCKSTAR MATTY POOOOO, guys im a virgin idk how sex works MADE FOR MY GIRLY @ihrtchris love u girl hope the wait was worth it <3 NOT PROOFREAD
a/n - guys it looked longer than it is i promise
also the bolded parts during the concert means its the song lyrics, also i love this song
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the bustling noises of a busy kitchen fill my ears as i hear people shout and flames crackle. “so i think i'll have a sweet tea and a number 6 please.” i ask the waiter as she takes my order.
“of course ma’am and for you?” cadence’s eyes swept over the whole menu again before speaking.
“lemonade and a number 2 please!” the waiter nodded towards us and walked off to the kitchen.
“hey are you busy tonight? i’m free and have nowhere to go, was hoping you knew about a party or something later.” i knew cay would know about any parties happening tonight, she was an epic journalist and worked for the editorial company i was at.
“hm, come to think of it, no, i don’t think so. didn’t get an invite, i guess all the famous people are taking a break from being bitchy and petty.” i laugh at her statement about the rich and famous, we’ve met countless celebrities and models and almost all of them were like cay said, bitchy and petty.
“come onnnn the one night i'm free from work and there’s nothing happening.” i drop my head dramatically on the table, careful not to hit the ketchup and mustard.
“well….” cadence trailed off.
“well what???” i almost break my neck looking up at her.
“i mean i saw a poster for this band, and they are playing at pacific square if you wanna go watch it, im down if you are.” cadence offered.
“a concert? im not sure, i mean if the guys are cute” i joked.
“ouh girl, i sure can tell you they are so hot.” she pulls out her phone looking through her photos. she taps on it and shows it to me. oh shit. they were really hot.
the one thing that cay forgot to mention was that the band that was playing in our home town was starsturns. “WAIT! you mean starsturns is playing here??”
“okay, im convinced, i think i just found my husband.” i practically threw cay’s phone back to her, feeling a small piece of drool develop on the corner of my mouth looking at the drummer.
“show starts at 8 i’ll be at your house with the uber.” cay says slipping her phone back into her pocket
“holy shit i can’t believe we are going to see starsturns!!!”
the ding of a bell goes off and we see the waiter sway towards us with our plates of food. i guess i have plans tonight.
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getting to the venue was a little troubling due to the death inducing trafic we were stuck in but cay is very much a hardass so when we did get to the venue she shoved her way to the front.
“move your asses, two super fans over here!!!” cay’s enthusiasm scares people which lets us pass through sort of easily.
being right at the rails that has to be only a metre away from the stage gets me riled up, we hear the curtains draw and and the stage lights get low.
the sun just started to set and the neon flashes of their large stage lights flicker at the audience. the leader singer and lead guitarist chris looks behind him peering over his shoulder to the audience. the girls yelled and shouted, he was definitely a lady killer.
chris began strumming his guitar in a steady pace as his brother nick, on the bass, keeps a steady beat emerging from the shadows.
a slow rhythm on the drums begin to build up, slowly getting faster and with each tap of the snare the lights get brighter, and brighter.
matt is revealed to the fans in such an epic way as the fans, including me and cadence goes crazy.
the crash of matt’s cymbals begins their set list as their first song begins.
time seemed to have lasted forever as they now have moved to a couple of slower songs that are more lyric focused. i throw my head back as i belt the lyrics living in pure harmony. this was my favourite song and i wanted to soak up every moment.
chris noticed and waved a hand towards cadence and i letting security know to let us onto the stage. i shake cadence to snap her out of her little trance and yank her to the small stairs that lead up the stairs, a smile graces chris’ face as we run up to him.
cay takes his hand as he spins her around, i stand back trying not to get hit by her long hair. i try to cover my mouth as i giggle a little seeing her have her moment with her favourite group member. i start skipping around the stage still keeping up with the song soon coming up to nick as he keeps his eyes on me as his bass still continues strumming.
i lock eyes with matt, coming over to the back of his drum kit and wrapping my arms around his neck,
“i dont wanna lose you now,
im looking right at the other half of me”
i sang my heart out as i hug matt while he kept his hand and foot trained on the instrument. he detaches the mic that was for his vocals and passes it to me, im a little shocked by his action but understand what he wants from me.
i take the mic and start to sing.
“show me how to fight for now,
and i tell you baby it was easy”
i felt alive. my idols and i sing this song with our hearts. i belt and add accents to my voice and really feel myself in the song. i bring the mic down to matt as we both sing into the mic as chris and matt begin to chant “you are, you are the love of my life” underneath my vocals letting me take the lead on the song.
“you are my reflection, and all i see is you”
the song ends and i’m panting from using an excessive amount of air for singing and from prancing around. matt and my eyes never leave each other caught up in the moment.
“give it up to y/n and cadence for singing this song with us!” chris yells into the mic. he holds up his signature rock n’ roll sign showing it to the fans, “thank you guys for coming out here tonight! love you all, have a good night!” with the last echo of his message to the fans the curtains move down and everything but the crowd lights turn off, still providing light for those going home.
i hop down from matt’s little stage leaving the microphone i’ve been using on a table that was next to matt and meet up with cay at the front of the stage.
cay was engaged in a conversation with nick and chris, talking to them like they’ve been friends since forever.
“oh my gosh, thank you for letting us up on stage like that chris!” i knew cay was fangirling underneath her cool calm and collected front.
don’t get me wrong, chris is very attractive, but simply not my type. i didn’t feel as strongly about him as i did with matt.
“oh come on you guys are great singers! especially you y/n.” chris says as i walk over, i feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me with that compliment.
“ah- thank you but it’s getting late, cay call an uber i’ll meet you by the gates in a second, just gotta run to the bathroom.
i pat my pockets checking for my phone that wasn’t there. i make a quick run to matt checking his whole set up for it. when i pick it up i immediately get caught in someone’s hand.
matt’s muscular hand grips my bare arm causing all my attention to look up to the man above me. “hey,” his voice is lower so his brothers don’t hear. “we are staying at a hotel tonight then sightseeing tomorrow, we’ll be in town for a night or two. we thought we’d visit our parents and take in the home town scene again before we travel again. was wondering if you wanted to come with me to our hotel.”
“you can come to my house-“ i blurt out. “m-more privacy and it’s not that far from here or whatever your hotel is. i can get you back there just in time for your brothers to wake up…”
“ah, sounds like a plan, we just gotta take our equipment to our bus then i’ll meet you there, how does twelve sound?” he nods understanding my intentions.
“uh yeah! sounds good, wait lemme give you my numb-“
“oh doll, don’t worry about that, gotta be a little careful with who you leave your phone around,” he winks as his grip on me loosens and falls.
i almost ran out of the venue, finding cadence and the uber waiting outside on the street. “girl come on!” she waves me in letting the uber driver know where we were going.
i close the door behind me gripping my hands very hard on my phone. cay rests and hand atop mine and looks at me with concern. “hey, what’s up?”
“matt just- matt- matt invited me to their hotel.. but now we are meeting at my house at twelve.” my eyes are trained on the headrest in front of me.
“YOU WHAT, HE- HE WHAT????” cay starts freaking out as much as i would’ve if i hadn’t been in such a state of shock.
“yuuuup,” the uber slows down getting stopped close to my house. “i have his number in my phone, he said he was going to come when i text him my address.” i open my car door seeing as we’ve stopped right in front of my house.
“all the details tomorrow morning at work !!” she yells as i exit the car, waving thank you to the driver from outside the car i walk to my house to finally freak out.
WHAT THE FLYING FUCK was i doing?? no way am i about to have a one night stand with the drummer of sturnstars, one of my favourite bands
i pull my phone out of my pocket to see a new contact that was put in named “hot drummer” with a new number.
y/n
you shared your location with “hot drummer”
hot drummer (matt s)
otw!
not too long after i hear the doorbell ring throughout my house and i quickly rush to my front door. taking a deep breath in and out i push down on the large handle seeing matt on the other side of the door.
matt leans on the side of my door frame looking as delicious as ever. “hey” a smirk grows on his face as he scans my body. the black cropped long sleeve i was wearing was getting clawed at by my long done up nails. my skirt was barely covering my ass and showed a lot of my legs.
he looked at me like i was his last meal. he launches himself off the door frame as i take him by the hand, leading him to my bedroom.
he looks around at the posters on the wall, one including their old tour one. his finger glides across the arctic monkeys and slipknot ones.
“so you're a fan?” he asks coming to sit next to me.
“yeah you could say that, i’m not crazy tho, some girls are worse. if i’m being honest i didn’t even know you guys were coming here.” i say truthfully
“so if i do this,” he leans and kisses me, sparks fly in my stomach. “you’ll be okay with it.”
“and if this happens,” his hand undoes the clasp and zipper on my mini skirt, “you’ll be okay with it?”
his lips touch mine as i help him moves my skirt down to the floor as i hold the hem of his shirt pulling to take it off. my long sleeve and bra meet the floor not too far after matt’s shirt.
he manoeuvres on top of me now pressing his raging hard on top of my heat. “please matt,” i say in a whiny voice, feeling more anxious and excited.
“please what princess?” he teases.
“please fuck me,” my hand snakes to the nape of his neck as i pull him in for a kiss. his fingers clad with rings, slip into my panties as he makes cold contact with his thumb onto my clit, my eyes roll back feeling him circle around my hole before plunging in.
“oh- god matt please don’t stop,” i moan feeling him pump in and out of me. a familiar knot builds and snaps quickly due to the constant stimulation.
“mhh, come on babe, give it to me” i squeeze around his fingers hard before i cum all over his fingers. “good job baby, you did so well, you ready for me?” i nod frantically as he sticks his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself, letting me such on his two fingers while he tugs on my panties making the small fabric keeping the whole thing together come unloose.
he's quick to undo his cargo pants letting the baggy material fall, and he tugs down his boxers letting his length spring out. i
“what the fuck, that is not going to fit in me?!?” he laughs at my surprise, pumping up and down on his monster dick.
“hey, i’ll take it slow, tonights ‘bout you.” he says hovering over me, “just tell me if it’s too much, alright?” he lines himself up and just puts the tip in, i arch my back in ecstasy feeling so full already.
“fuck, matt keep going.” he takes this as an invitation to push all the way in. my moans only become more airy as he gets deeper and deeper.
he gets more confident in his movement and keeps a steady pace, he lifts my leg, folding it by my knee, letting him hit a new spot.
“mhhh, matt don’t stop.” his pace is steady with him constantly hitting my g-spot, “i-i-”
i couldn’t even get my sentence out before i completely collapsed underneath his arms, letting myself go. “you did such a good job pretty girl, can i cum in you?”
“YES, yes matt please!” a slight feeling of overstimulation washes over me as matt grunts and shoots his load into me, falling onto my bed next to me.
“ah, come on, let's get cleaned up. nick and chris are gonna be wondering where i am.”
who knew, maybe dating a drummer isn’t that bad.
taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem-72 @pepsiimaxx @strniolosworld
taglist is open !
#sturniolo triplets#syn speaks#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#Spotify
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Old House
Frankie Morales x F! Reader
Summary: You and Frankie are staying in his childhood room
Warnings: 18+, penetrative and unprotected sex, playful/ giggly sex, established relationship (marriage with a child)
Word Count: 2k
It’s an odd feeling, as an adult, to be standing in your childhood bedroom. A room that had once felt so big and had contained every last thing you owned but now feels far too small to have ever fit the life that swirls inside of you.
You have been in Frankie’s childhood bedroom a handful of times before, hours spent hiding away from family gatherings while you quietly looked through the shelves and drawers as Frankie lay back on the bed and watched you with an amused smile on his face.
The room remains mostly the same every year you are here, sometimes with added boxes of decorations that haven’t been put up to the loft yet or packages that need to be returned. The only major change, one that makes you smile even as you think about it now, is the bare white back of the door.
That first visit home, when his sister was throwing her daughter’s first birthday party in the back garden, Frankie took you up to his room. He held your hand on the way up the stairs, standing back when he opened the door and letting you in first before he closed it over to reveal a very large poster of a very half-naked lady that had you lying on the carpet and screech-laughing as Frankie - red faced and hiding under his hat - pulled it from the door and threw it towards the basket in the corner. He pulled you up from the carpet, tickling your neck with his patchy beard and mumbling a half-hearted “shut up” as you wiped your tears into the shoulder of his shirt.
“I haven’t lived in this room since I was seventeen,” he muttered defensively and you wiped at your eyes.
“At least you have the real thing to look at now,” you said quietly, pressing yourself up against him.
He smiled, some of the embarrassment leaving but his cheeks still flushed pink.
“Oh, and you’re so much better,” he had mumbled against your lips.
On one wall there are shelves with model planes, a few with broken wings from when he had let his younger sisters play with them before realising they were much too delicate for the hands of toddlers.
There are drawers filled with old school books he had never thrown out, the plans of going to study engineering swapped out for the army. You had asked him, on your second visit up here, if he should take some home for the night classes he was applying for in the run up to his retirement and he shook his head with a wry grin, telling you that they were “just a little” out of date.
There are trophies for swimming and football, school yearbooks and half-filled notebooks. Photos of a young and bare-faced Frankie with Santiago and the Millers and other friends he lost contact with years before you came into his life. There are report cards and concert tickets all mixed up in one drawer.
The bed rests against the one blue wall - a light blue, not unintentionally - you think - like the sky - and it’s almost comical to think that it had once belonged to Frankie.
He lies on it now, ready for bed and resting against the headboard as he watches you walk around the room barefoot and wearing one of his t-shirts that brushes your thighs, and his toes are already nearly at the edge.
Usually when you are up here, it’s still the middle of the day. The garden would be filled with family and there would be muffled conversations and music coming through a slightly cracked open window, the curtains still wide and letting in the sun. It feels more intimate now, in the dead of night with a silent house.
Until six months ago, you had lived an hour drive away. One of you would drive whenever there was a dinner or party at the house, much preferring to find your way into your own bed at the end of the day, but now you were a six hour flight away.
After his mission that had gone south, two weeks that almost broke apart your family and led to days of shouting and nights of silence, you and Frankie sat down - cried out and exhausted - and you knew that something had to give.
Frankie lived in fear of running into his ex-colleagues on the street and suddenly Thursday night drinks with the guys felt more like an obligation than something that left him feeling good. You walked around your house and thought about the two weeks that had you tearing your hair out and waiting by the phone. Then, amongst all the hardship was an email into Frankie’s inbox - a job offer, entry level and using his recently acquired engineering degree but interested in all of his experience, for an aerospace engineering firm.
“In Alaska,” he said, and you both smiled.
It’s only been six months in your new fixer-upper house and Frankie’s job is only a half-an-hour drive from your small town. You work three days to match with Sofia’s nursery days and spend two having one on one days with your daughter before a weekend filled with the three of you. It’s only been six months, and yet everything is starting to feel normal again.
Frankie’s head tilts as he watches you wander around his room now, taking only short breaks to glance down at the monitor on the bedside table.
“Bet you never thought you’d be using a baby-monitor in this room,” you say and Frankie laughs.
“Think my Ma spent her Sundays praying I wouldn’t.”
You spin on your heels, turning to look along the shelf with the photographs.
“Did you have your first kiss up here?” You ask, lifting a photo frame of Frankie and a group of people. You’ve looked at the photo half a dozen times before, Frankie’s chin resting on your shoulder and pointing everyone out. An ex-girlfriend here and an ex-boyfriend there, answering your raised eyebrows with “not at the same time, obviously,” and nipping your hip playfully.
Your thumb strokes across his face, a smile hidden beneath the bill of his hat like he often does now, and you see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye.
“Behind the gym hall after a school dance,” he replies and you snort.
“A cliche.”
“Did you lose your-“ you place the photo back down on the shelf and turn to look at him, wiggling your eyebrows until he grins widely, “-you know, up here?”
He rolls his eyes with a smile and shakes his head. “The back of my old truck.”
“Classic country boy,” you tut with a shake of your head and it’s his turn to laugh now.
Your fingers drag along the shelves, toes curling into the soft carpet and eyes wandering over every little trinket teenage Frankie had collected that glints in the moonlight.
“Come here,” Frankie’s quiet voice drags your attention back to him, his features soft and relaxed with a barely there smile as he holds his hand out towards you.
In a few short steps your thighs are brushing against the side of the mattress, your soft palm sliding against his rough one as he tangles your fingers together and pulls you onto his lap. He lifts your now linked hands to kiss the back of your hand, his other resting on your hip as you settle yourself.
“Are you sure your back will be okay with both of us squeezed in here tonight?” You ask.
The bed is barely a double, big enough for both of you if you’re pressed together all night.
“I’m sure,” Frankie replies quietly and you brush back some of the hair that has fallen across his forehead.
For a while, the only sounds are from the house settling - the creaking stairs and doors that sink to their frame - and your steady breathing as you drag your fingers through his hair all the while he draws deep lines with his palms from your hip to your ribs and back again. You’re not sure how long you spend like this, at some point your head falling to his shoulder and his lips brushing kisses against your forehead.
Slowly, he starts to move his lips across your cheek, towards your jaw and down your neck. Slowly, you start to rock your hips down against his in return.
“Frankie,” you whisper and he nods, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against him.
“Hold on, baby.” It’s a little awkward, there’s some laughter and jumbled limbs as he moves you both until your back is against the mattress and he hovers over you. “There.” He looks down at you, kissing you with the smiles still on both your mouths until he begins to trail them down your neck, pulling your t-shirt down lower and licking along your collarbone before lifting your shirt up and kissing along your stomach.
At some point your underwear is pulled down your legs, your t-shirt thrown on the floor along with his own and his boxers. He’s slowly rocking into you, the bed creaking quietly and your mouths swallowing each other’s groans.
With his hand gripping your thigh, your nails drag down his back and Frankie’s hips slam into yours in return, bitten back groans turning to giggles when your head slams against the headboard.
“Ow.”
“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, pulling back with his brows furrowing down at you and reaching up to rub the top of your head.
“The saying “I want fucked so hard I forget my name” doesn't mean concussion, you know that right?”
Frankie’s body shakes with silent laughter, his weight falling to his elbows and his breath warming your neck.
“News to me,” he mutters around a laugh, before lifting his head and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Better?”
You hum, wrapping your legs higher on his waist and pulling him down against you again.
He starts moving once more, your back arching up against him with your chest pressed against his and his hands sliding between your sweat-slick bodies. In an attempt to muffle your moan you lift your head from the pillow and press your lips to his shoulder, teeth nipping at his skin, and then he thrusts down hard and-
Your head hits the headboard. Again.
“Jesus, Frankie, fuck me,” you mutter and he barks a laugh, dropping his head back to the crook of your neck to muffle the rest of his laughter.
“Already am,” he replies and you swat at his arm.
It’s slow and clumsy, you’re both still smiling and on the edge of laughter when he tips you over the edge and your moans are quiet and light, his body carefully collapsing against yours with his head coming to rest on your chest.
You stay like that, his lips dragging back and forth across your chest and your hands brushing through his hair, until he sits up and pulls you with him.
“I take for granted that I can practically roll from our bed to the bathroom,” you say, reaching for your make-shift pyjamas thrown across the floor, and Frankie swats your ass playfully.
After tip-toeing across the hall and back, you slip into bed in front of Frankie, his chest now bare with his t-shirt left on the floor, the whole front of his body is pressed to your back. He reaches over you and turns the monitor so you both can see Sofia on the screen, sleeping much like her dad does when he has the room to do so - an arm thrown above her head and the other resting on her little chest over her sleeping bag. You say as much and feel Frankie’s smile pressed against your neck, his hand sneaking beneath your t-shirt to rest on your stomach.
“Am I the first person you’ve had in this bed?” You ask and you hear his hair swish against the pillow as he nods. “Your mum would be so proud, waiting until after marriage.”
“You know how the rhyme goes. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a golden carriage. Oh, and then you can share a bed.”
You laugh quietly, pulling Frankie’s arm tighter around you as you nestle back into him.
“I think teenage me would never believe how lucky I get,” he says, squeezing you once.
“I think teenage me would think the same,” you reply.
________________
Tags
@phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday @tintinn16 @pilothusband @voteforpedro09 @dihra-vesa @frankiecatfish @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @transias @peoniarose @pjkimrn @fangirl-316 @niki-xie @potted–ivy @phandoz @janebby @athalien @xocalliexo @amneris21 @lavenderluna10 @iamskyereads @spacenerdpascal @mswarriorbabe80 @dumplinshee @jitterbugs927 @gracie7209 @lovesbiggerthanpride @lowlights @notabotiswear @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @justreblogginfics @fangirl-316 @1andthesame @pedrostories @nyfeeer @seasonschange-butpeopledont @thereisaplaceintheheart @graciexmarvel @trickstersp8 @dreamiesunny @oogaboogasphincter @mstgsmy66 @booksaremyyoga @sirpascal @nyfeeer @manuymesut @alwaysdjarin @milispunk
#Frankie morales#Frankie morales x female reader#Frankie morales x reader#Frankie morales x y/n#Frankie morales x you#Frankie morales x f!reader
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It's time to talk about the moms
With last week's and today's episode we got a good look at the different ways in which the moms reacted to the news that their daughters are in love w each other so lets take a peek shall we
I will start with this picture of our lovely lady Uang
On patriarcal societies the women are in charge of the reproductive labor which not only means giving birth but also to educate children on how to fall in line with the satus quo, women serve the patriarchy by teaching their children to follow it's rules. We are social engineers, we take care of the social events, the family gatherings, home related issues, etc.
We can see this throughout the series, the women are preparing the food, the ceremonies, they're taking care of their children, their husbands and each other. AND they're making sure the men's wishes are fullfilled: mostly we've seen this in terms of preparing their daughters to be married off to whomever their fathers or another man (Kuea for example) wishes
This is alienating for women because we reproduct a social order that causes us direct harm so in a way we are taught to hate ourselves
Now on to the moms
Patt reacts in an a very violent way, she lashes out at Pin for not abstaining herself from her dessires cause a woman is not suppossed to act on her own wishes according to Patt and to society
Aunt Patt has a lot of internalized shame and she thinks Pin should too. This is related to 3 factors: class, gender and sexuality
The one that seem to be closer to the surface for her is the one related to class. Patt is also adopted, she is the og Loyal Pin, she feels overly indebted to the royal family. She is also literally their servant, she serves them with her reproductive labor (as I explained it before), she is the beacon of womanhood, and she has taught Pin to be the same as her
So when Pin falls out of line this triggers her own unresolved issues. Patt must have been really troubled by her feelings towards Im, they go against all she believes in. She has learned that she is inferior, that she should be grateful for what she has and not to wish for more
Patt believes -as Pin does cause she thaught her- that sacrifice is the way in which a woman can gain some sense of control in a society that takes away our right to choose. This is a self fullfilling prophecy, one gives up on one's destiny and that gives you a false sense of control
Alissa on the other hand is not so present on Anin's life (and her father doesn't seem to be either), I would argue that this is one of the reasons why Anin is not so lady like, cause she's been said to be raised by her brother so she didn't have such a prevalent feminine role model
Anyways, this might have actually given her a little advantage in the sense that she had more freedom to figure her own identity out
Alissa is very surprised and afraid when Anin comes out, she is adamant on sticking to thai customs and rules. And she reminds Anin that her marrying another woman simply has no place in their context AND she reminds her that se must marry someone OF HER OWN RANK, just like Patt reminded Pin
Alissa isn't rude to Anin, she seems to tackle the issue in a very matter of factly manner, she even goes to keep her company every night after Anin moves back to the palace
Alissa also seems to be particularly worried about mantaining the monarchy intact and therefore, the social and cultural structure. She even tells Anin what worries her most is her potentially giving up her title
Once again, the moms roles in all of this are mainly related to those dictated by the reproductive labor that they must perform for the patriarchy, and today's episode is a constant reminder of that, not just for the moms but for all of our girls 😢
#I didn't think it would be this long#could be longer tho#the loyal pin#aninpin#anilpin#freenbecky#freen sarocha#becky armstrong
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Bucky Barnes Valentine's Drabble ❤️
wc. ~1500
pairing. Bucky x Curvy!Reader
summary. Reader is alone and in the gym on Valentine's Day of all days. Until the man of her dreams Bucky Barnes wanders in and offers to be her sparring partner...
an. I had a last minute idea for a drabble......that then morphed into TWO ideas!! Bucky is first up and I have another idea with Loki that I should hope to finish in the next couple of days. (PS I haven't forgotten my last Ficmas fic. I just kind of hit a wall and i'm still struggling to get over it. Maybe this will help.)
Also big shout out to @chasingmidnights for helping inspire me today ❤️
Going to the gym wasn't exactly your first choice of things to start your Valentine’s Day; but here you were. You preferred to come early early, still dark out early, for two reasons. First for being a bit of an early riser yourself. Usually not as early as you were today, but enough that in the summer, you were able to hear the birds sing at breakfast.
The second that there were less people to stare at you. Confident as you were in your curves, the world had not gotten used to the idea of fat people working out in gyms NOT to lose weight add you’d rather not start today, of all days, that way. Valentine’s Day. You had no real hatred for it. But you did get a little jealous sometimes when you walked in the office and saw so many other desks littered with flowers and candies. But you couldn’t recall a time someone had sent you so much as a single rose.
This year, you’d decided to take the self-care route. You’d ordered takeout last night and tucked it away in the fridge for tonight, along with a slice of your favorite cheesecake from the old-fashioned delicatessen down the street (family owned since the days Tony’s father running Stark Industries). You’d chosen not to weep for your singleness but instead use it as a night of rest and recovery. A good meal, a nice book and your favorite vinyl record along with a long soak in the tub were you self-loves tonight…and your now charging vibrator would take care of the other kind too. You just had to make it through the day.
Even though you were a desk jockey, there was a physical exam all SWORD agents had to pass. You weren't extraordinarily physically gifted, but you could kick but in Just Dance when you wanted to. Unfortunately, the virtual reality sparring simulator at the Avengers compound certainly wasn't as fun as silly dance moves to 70s music in your apartment You knew sparring with the examiner wouldn't be like this, but you had no one else to spar with. And that was where Bucky found you.
"If you'd like I can practice with you, agent." He’d startled you as you quickly removed the virtual reality headset and turned to see him standing there. It was amazing how well he fit into modern clothing. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off this metal arm. You’d never seen his arm this closes and you were in awe of the Wakandan craftsmanship. You'd long admired the former assassin, but never thought in a million years he'd notice you. He was the dark contrast to Captain America, the golden boy. Both were incredibly handsome but there was something mysterious about him that drew you to him. You could easily see why he’d been a lady’s man in the 40s. And you were just a desk clerk. You couldn’t compete with the women, all of whom looked like super models, that threw themselves at him.
You looked around, not seeing any one else and turned back to him, standing there and looking at you, a genuine smile on his face. You nodded and quietly responded.
"Uh...yeah. that would be nice."
Sparring with Bucky gave you a much better experience. Being able to actually fight someone who was there instead of just a simulation felt great. Even though you were sure Bucky was taking it easy on you, you were a lot stronger than you thought, not to mention quick. You were able to duck and dodge and lay a few quick jabs to his chest. And that was nothing compared to how confident you felt, and how good Bucky looked. He seemed to be enjoying himself, a smile never leaving his face. Once or twice you’d stared a little too long and he’d gotten a few jabs in, but you recovered quickly.
At one point he had his arms around you in a hold and you were amazed how warm he felt. His chest brushed against your back and you let out a little gasp that you prayed to God he didn't hear. But you saw the smirk play at his lips.
"Sorry, doll. I run a little warm cause of the serum."
"It's alright.” You said, sheepishly. “Your touch actually feels nice." You bit your cheek as you realized how wrong that probably was to say. To your surprise, Bucky didn’t mention it.
"Well the best way to pass a test is with the proper tools. Not with Tony’s toys." He said, rolling his eyes. “And your touch feels good too.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise before he continued “You’ve got a good strong grip.” He shot you a wink and you couldn’t begin to process what he meant when the sparring resumed. Bucky and you trained for a good hour or so and by the end you felt much better about the exam.
Bucky also took the time to show you a few new self-defense maneuvers. He was demonstrating a quick way to hit someone in the gut before raising your hands up to hit them in the face.
"It's one fluid movement." He guided your arms. By now you were CERTAINLY used to his touch. Especially in moments like now where you when his arms where wrapped around you to guide you. You'd never felt more safe and secure.
"Like this...." You jabbed your elbows backwards before swinging are your arms up, hands closed together and you FELT the contact against Bucky’s nose as you'd executed the move perfectly. But your pride turned to panic as Bucky grunted, then started a fit of coughing as you realized what you’d done.
"Holy shit. Oh my God. I mean... oh shit. Uhm. Captain America is gunna kill me.... Sargent Barnes uhm...sir...?? Are you okay??"
Bucky coughed a few more times, before his breathing finally shallowed. His hand was clutch his nose, now paying attention to that and feeling to make sure it wasn't broken before he finally spoke to you.
“Well doll, I certainly didn't expect you to knock the wind out of me twice in one day. But I'll take it. And you can just call me Bucky.” He said and you felt like you were going to faint. Had he just said what you thought he did?
"Wha...what...? Twice?" you said in disbelief.
“Sure doll.” Bucky admitted. “First was when I walked In here today. Though I have to say you've done it a few times before that" he admitted. “Like the other day when I dropped off that paperwork and you looked so beautiful in your blue dress.” He bit his lip, recalling the memory.
“You're not. You're not serious, right?” He couldn’t be.
“Yeah. Uhm. I am doll. I’ve been wanting to say something for a while but I was worried you were scared of me.” Your heart twinged a little and you gently placed your hand on his mechanical arm.
“Not at all Bucky. In fact, I’ve liked you for some time as I just…didn’t think you’d notice me. You could have any girl you want and I’m just a desk clerk.” You said. “Not a supermodel or a superhero. Or anything special."
“Hey listen to me. You’re absolutely gorgeous doll. Why do you think I’m the one that’s always bringing you everyone else’s paperwork.” You thought for a moment before you realized it was true. You’d never noticed it but while you often saw other Avengers dropping off work to someone else, whenever something had to come to you, Bucky was always the one to bring it. “It’s the highlight of my day when I get to see you. His words, full of honesty and admiration made your heart swell. He placed his flesh hand over yours and squeezed it tight. You gazed into the crystal blue pools of his eyes as he broke the moment.
“Besides everyone knows it’s desk clerks that makes the world go round. Trust me, My ma worked as a secretary for a while. The stories she could’ve told.” You both laughed at that and you loved his laugh. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him really laugh before. It wasn’t as deep or boisterous as Thor’s. Rather it pattered and reminded you of summer’s rain on a wooden roof. And you loved the way his shoulders shook, even if it wasn’t that big of a laugh.
“Listen, doll, I know it's super last minute...and if you didn’t already have plans tonight… I We'll never get a reservation anywhere. But you could come back to my place and I could cook you dinner? Maybe we can watch a movie?” Bucky asked. You smiled and happily replied.
“It's a date.”
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#Bucky Barnes fic#drabble#Bucky Barnes Drabble#Valentine's Day#Valentines Day#valentine's day fic
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i know this is an old story but i love it so much and was wondering if we can have a look at how josie,harry and y/n are doing now?? (golden sparks)
Golden Sparks is a well loved story of mine. Happy to revisit them 💜 enjoy 1.3k of sweetness from this family
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Josie turned 13 a week ago. Harry had cried many tears while Y/N tried her best to comfort him. He knew his once young toddler daughter was now officially a teenager. He was proud of the young woman she had become; she had Y/N as a fantastic role model, but it didn’t make him any less upset knowing he was growing older and soon would have to let fly away from the nest.
Today was important because Josie would be joining her first Club team at practice. They sought her out from videos Y/N posted online in support of her. She knew Josie’s talent was off the charts over the last few years and did her best to support her, but even Y/N knew there was only so much she could teach her before Josie needed more.
Harry and Y/N sat together in their pink matching portable chairs that Harry happily carried around. Y/N sat with her arms crossed and sunglasses on as she saw Josie effortlessly juggling the ball while waiting for the coach to call them all in.
“No need for sunglasses, my love,” Harry told her because as lovely as California was, there was no sun shining today.
“Shut it,” she told him softly, never looking away from Josie.
Harry leaned in closer and noticed a tear stain on her cheek. Harry felt himself soften because he knew what this was about. He didn’t understand why Y/N didn’t tell him how she was feeling.
“Y/N, honey, what’s going on?” He asked softly.
She turned to him with a deep pout on her lips, “Harry,” she warned.
Harry didn’t want to make her say it, but he needed to ensure she was okay. “Josie is going to do brilliantly with this new team. You even said you’re good friends with the coach.”
Y/N sighs, letting her head fall into her hands. Harry sits watching her until he begins to hear her sobbing. He rushes to kneel before her, holding her close to his chest. “Baby, baby. I got you. You’re amazing. I’m sorry you’re feeling like this.”
“I-I-I know I only coached her for a few years, but I was once her favorite person playing soccer with her.”
Harry chuckles because he knows what it’s like to be jealous of someone else for his daughter’s attention. “You always will be.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Shhh, I got you.” Harry is still holding her close despite her outburst. He was thankful Y/N chose to sit away from all the parents for the first day, and now he knew why.
“That’s our little girl,” Y/N whispers. She knows that she’s Josie's biological mother, but she’s become that role over the years. Y/N married Harry, thus making Josie her family–her daughter. It’s the best choice Y/N has ever made.
Harry feels his heart melt because Y/N was right. That was their girl. She was growing right before their eyes, becoming a beautiful young lady.
“Josie loves you with her entire heart, tells you every night,” Harry reminds her. They hear the blow of the whistle, signaling the start of practice. They know Josie won’t be coming towards them for the next two hours, and that’s okay–for Harry, at least. “You’re her favorite person. Don’t you forget that.”
Harry knows Y/N wants to watch Josie practice, but he doesn’t want to let her go, so instead, he pulls her to sit on his lap as he sits on the grass. Y/N doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she cuddles closer to him. Her tears have stopped, but he knows she’s still filled with emotions.
The time seems to fly quickly, and before they know it, the coach leads the girls on a cool-down. When the girls are free to go, Josie runs to her bag, happily chatting with two other girls about who knows what. The odd thing is that Y/N is called over by the coach. As if Y/N was expecting it, she quickly kisses his lips and promises to be fast.
Harry eyes the conversation when Josie comes running at him at full speed. He almost loses his balance but steadies himself rather quickly. “You were brilliant, darling!”
Josie rolls her eyes, “only practice, dad.”
He clicks his tongue, “nope, still brilliant.”
Y/N shakes the coach’s hand and comes back towards them, but just like Harry, Josie goes barreling to Y/N but stops right in front of her. They’re wrapped in a hug when Y/N whispers in her ear, and Josie runs to help the coach pick up the last pieces of equipment.
Harry shoots her a big smile, and she returns it by blowing him a kiss. Once back at his side, he gives her a moment until she’s ready to share with him.
Y/N toes her shoe in the dirt, “she asked me if I wanted to come on as assistant coach.”
Harry’s eyes brighten in delight. “Baby! That’s amazing. You said yes.”
“No, told her I’d think about it. Already know my answer.”
He frowns. He thought she’d be happy with news like this. “But you’re not head coaching Golden Sparks this year. You love the sport, baby. It’ll be good for you.”
“Not with this baby growing in my stomach,” she mutters.
“What?” He answers in shock. Harry’s not sure he heard her correctly.
Y/N’s eyes widen, and she knows she let it slip. It all began to make sense to Harry: late-night snacks, the frequent bathroom requests, and being overly emotional (not that she wasn’t sad, but Y/N dropped her banana and burst into tears.)
“You’re having a baby? Our baby?” Harry has tears in his eyes as he waits for her to confirm.
She knows she can’t hide it anymore, “I’m pregnant.”
Harry lets his tears fly and hugs her tight. He presses kiss after kiss to her face as he thanks her for this gift. “I thought life was perfect with you and Josie, but not a baby. How’d I get so lucky?”
She laughs, hugging him tightly. She hated keeping the secret, but his reaction was everything she had hoped for. They are so lost in their moment they don’t notice Josie coming back, looking at them concerned. “Is it the baby, Mumma?”
Y/N’s eyes widen when Josie lets those words slip. Harry drops his hands from his face to look over at Josie, waiting for confirmation everything is okay.
“You knew!” He says in disbelief. “Both of you kept it a secret from me.”
Josie shrugs, hugging Y/N's tightly protective hand on her stomach. “We had to be sure.”
He’s not upset, not for a moment, because knowing his two loves keeping a secret together, one as special as this, was not to leave him out, so Y/N could have the support. He knows there’s a story to it and can’t wait to hear it.
Josie can’t stop talking about the baby as they walk to the car. Turns out Y/N is closer to three months, and wanted to pass that mark before saying anything.
“I hope it’s a boy,” Josie tells them excitedly, “then Juliet and I will both be big sisters to little brothers.”
“Juliet now has two younger brothers,” Harry corrects her.
Josie shrugs, “you could always have another after.”
Y/N laughs at Josie’s innocent thoughts. “Let’s focus on this one<;i< for the next few months, and then we’ll see how you feel.”
Harry points a finger at Josie, “you’re going to be on diaper duty!”
Josie screams in protest, rushing to Y/N’s side. “Mum! Please tell Dad that’s his job.”
Y/N felt the familiar flutter that always came with Josie calling her Mum. Y/N placed a kiss on her daughter’s head. “We’re all on diaper duty, but your dad will always get first dibs!”
#harry styles#harry styles stories#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles x reader#dad harry#harry x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#a writes!
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Electric Summer Ch 3.
AHHH I'm loving this story so much!!! Here's chapter 3! I couldn't stop writing this lol
Summary: Sy and Lainie get ready for the campers to arrive. Everyone gets to know each other. It's a perfect summer day until...the weather takes a turn.
warnings: light cursing.
Reblogs and comments ALWAYS welcome! Please let me know what you think!!
Link for Ch2
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That night I barely slept. Buzzing with all of the energy from the day. The adrenaline and excitement and the butterflies. All of it ran through me like a high I didn’t want to come off of. But still I was skeptical. Was this the universe at play or was it just a coincidence? No, it couldn’t be. Not when all of my emotions seemed to be even stronger in his presence. And as much as I’d like to deny it, I still thought about him often. I had tried to let all of this go. But it’s like he had this grip on me. Everytime I tried to go out with someone new or go on a date. Or let someone touch me. It felt like I was betraying him. I knew that wasn’t true. I know Sy. He never really wanted me to wait forever, I don’t think either of us ever thought we’d see each other again. And if I had seen someone or been with someone he’d never hold that against me. But I just couldn’t do it.
At some point I must’ve drifted off to a restless sleep. My alarm woke me at 6:30AM. After our dip in the lake yesterday I definitely needed a shower. After a quick morning shower and getting ready for the day. In just some simple workout shorts and a t-shirt. It was supposed to get hot today. I decided to start working on decorations for the cabin before breakfast. I remember one year our counselor made signs with our names on them to hang over whatever bunk we’d chosen. I loved that idea.
I went through the roster becca had given me when I’d checked in yesterday and got to work carefully drawing each name and fun summer designs on each one. I wasn’t much of an artist but I was genuinely pretty impressed with myself.
Then I started to hang the garland letters sign I made for our door. Each year camp has a theme. And our counselors would come up with a name for our group or our cabin before we got there. It was always fun guessing and anticipating what cabin we would get. This year’s theme was classic movies. I smiled proudly to myself as I taped the string to the door after checking one last time to make sure it was straight. We were the “Pink Ladies” I may have a serious obsession with the film Grease.
I’d decided that if we were paired with one of the boys cabins we would be the pink ladies and I’d convince the boys counselor to be the T-birds. Luckily, Sy didn’t take much convincing. We talked about it yesterday before we started going over the icebreaker games. Although he did briefly try to change my mind and talked about the boys doing a “Top Gun” theme but he conceeded when I pouted. I made both our signs last night. After about an hour of trying to fall asleep I gave up and sat on the floor cutting the letters out of cardstock. I planned on taking the sign over to him after I figured out how to hang the fairy lights over the rafters. I climbed up onto the top bunk and started there making my way around the perimeter of the cabin. But there was still one long beam across the middle I started on the top bunk in one corner of the room but that only got me so far. I Pulled the little table in the center of the room over and climbed up standing on top of it. It was just tall enough for me to be able to toss the lights around and catch it on the other side of the beam. Just as I’d moved the table and climbed back up to start another section I heard the screen door open.
“What are you doin?” He asked an edge of panic in his voice. Sy was leaning against the door frame watching me.
“Hanging lights.” I shrugged, turning back to the task at hand.
“You’re gonna get hurt,” He said. Walking over to the table staring up at me to meet my eyes. I looked down shaking my head.
“I am not! I’m almost done once I finish this part I’m gonna climb onto the other bunk.” I explained wrapping the lights around one more time before starting to get down. I felt Logan’s hands on my waist steadying me and helping me off the table. “Thanks” I blushed turning away from him quickly it was to early for this.
“Anytime darlin, you want some help?” He asked. I shook my head as I climbed the ladder to the top bunk diagonal from mine.
“Nope this is the last part!” I said as I finished wrapping the lights around the beam. “Did you need something?” I asked. Looking down at him.
“Yeah you not to give me a heart attack!” He joked. I chuckled.
“I was fine Logan!” I argued. He shook his head.
“I was actually coming to see if you were ready to head over to breakfast?” He asked I looked down at my watch and looked back up.
“Is it 8:30 already?” I asked. He nodded.
“Sure is!” He smiled. I hopped down from the bunk laughing when his eyes went wide again.
“Jesus woman,” He laughed. “Would you stop trying to get hurt!” He chided.
“Oh so you can go of overseas and fight in a war, but I can’t do a little home decor without you threatening to put me in a bubble?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t mean you aren’t capable of doing it yourself darlin, it’s just if I remember right you tend to be accident prone.” He chuckled.
“That was 7 years ago! I was 17, I was a little clumsy. That’s all.” I defended.
“Sure,” He smiled. “You ready to go eat?” He asked. I nodded.
“Just let me grab some shoes!” I slipped on a pair of vans and we headed out the door.
I was so glad we took the time to sit down and enjoy breakfast because the rest of our morning and early afternoon went by so fast.
We had another staff meeting about greeting campers. And meeting parents. Dealing with home sickness. A crash course on first aid. The first day’s schedule. Luckily Sy and I were with the older kids. High school age. So our day’s weren’t quite as structured. But somehow that made me more nervous. What if they just brushed us off and none of our effort was even worth it.
I didn’t have time to think about it. At 1 pm right after lunch and after we finished. Some staff bonding games of our own it was time for check in. It was kind of a long process if I remember so I still had maybe 20 minutes before any of my campers would be there but I was still so nervous. I went and sat out on the picnic table writing down the schedule and some of the games Logan and I had talked about trying one last time to get all my thoughts organized. At one point when I looked up I saw him across the lawn standing on the porch of his cabin finally taping the sign I’d made to his door.
Better late than never I suppose. I giggled to myself. To be fair it’s a miracle the boys cabins ever participated in those sorts of things anyway. They never were ones to decorate. And their cabins always had a certain…smell to them. I shook my head and looked up again just in time to catch his eye across the lawn. I smiled sending him a little wave. I saw him grin and he waived back. Just as I thought about walking over to chat, a young girl and what i’m guessing is her mom stopped in front of the cabin.
“Cabin E?” The mom asked smiling. I nodded. Standing up to greet them.
“That’s me!” I smiled. “Welcome to camp!”
“Thank you!” She said. “This is Emma,” she gestured to her daughter.
“I can introduce myself mom,” she chided her mother. “I’ve been doing this for 4 years now.” Ah so she was a seasoned camper. She should be fun.
“It’s nice to meet you Emma, I’m Lainie, do you need help bringing anything inside? I asked gesutring to her bags.
“Oh I can help her!” Her mom jumped in. Emma rolled her eyes.
“Mom I love you, but you’re hovering. I got it from here.” She assured her. The womans face fell but she nodded.
“Alright I get it, it’s time for me to go.” she said. I gave her a sympathetic look.
“Hey Emma no one else is here yet why don’t you go choose your bunk and get settled in, I always liked to get here early too so I could get the bed I wanted.” I told her.
The girls eyes lit up and she nodded. She quickly hugged her mom and grabbed her bags walking toward the door.
“It’s just two weeks mom! I love you!” she said before she walked inside. Her mother smiled sadly and looked back to me.
“She’s so independent, I don’t know when that happened. She grew so fast. I’ll only get to do this with her one more year.” Her mother explained.
“She’s just excited, I remember these days. I was a camper myself not to long ago. But trust me, about half way through the first week. I would start to get a little home sick. We alway miss our mommas.” I told her.
“Thank you,” She smiled. “Sounds like she’s in good hands with you Lainie. I’d better go check on my son My husband is dropping off her twin brother Ethan. And they can both be a handful.” I laughed.
“I know the type,” I chuckled. She smiled before heading off in the direction of Sy’s cabin. When I looked over there was a boy, and an older man standing outside talking with him. Emma’s mother joined them. The boy had blonde hair just like the girls. Must be her brother I thought. I didn’t have much time to watch as two more campers and their family’s arrived. One whos name was Nicole she was also a camp alumn been coming just as long as Emma. It didn’t look like they knew each other very well though. Must not have been in the same cabin before. Nicole was a spitfire. Right out the gate. She walked right in claiming her bunk signing her name on the wall next to it, another camp tradition. She dismissed her parents right away as well. They stopped and talked for a bit but they’d done this before they didn’t have many concerns. The other girl was much more timid and shy. She reminded me of myself my first year of camp. She was about a year or 2 younger than the other girls. Her name was Ryleigh. She was quiet when she introduced herself. Her mother talked to me about concerns of her being social and making friends. She was worried about her. I understood that. But I also understood the way that this place had a tendency to open people up and make them feel safe. What I told her was. I’d keep an eye on her. She’s gonna have a fun summer. I promised that. Another hour had gone by and all of my campers had arrived. I had 8 girls in my Cabin. I welcomed them all and gave them each their sign to put up by their bunks.
“These are so cool!” Nicole said excitedly quickly climbing up to her bunk and taping it up immediately.
“I like these!” Emma said, “Is it okay if we add more drawings or sketches to them?” She asked. I nodded
“Absolutely they’re yours to do whatever you want with!” I smiled. “But if everyone is all settled in I think the boys are ready to meet up with us. Are you ready to meet everyone?” They were pretty excited to get things kicked off by this point most of the girls had been to camp at least once. They were ready to get the summer started.
Sy and I had decided that we would meet up on the lawn and just sit out on the grass as a group to start things off. When we walked over Nicole immediately ran over hugging one of the boys, must be old friends. They immediately sat next to each other in the grass as Sy and I told everyone to form a circle.
“Alright,” Sy spoke loudly getting everyones attention. “First we’d like to introduce ourselves. The boys have met me but ladies, I’m Logan, a lot of people call me Sy. I’ll answer to either one.” He smiled. I looked over and a couple of the girls were whispering to each other. I knew that face. I’d been the one making it years ago. Probably even still now. They thought he was cute. It’s so innocent those camp counselor crushes. I’d been there too. Once when I was 13 we had this counselor his name was Tanner. He was really nice and he played guitar and he sang. I was a sucker guys that were into music. I just smiled to myself, and realised it was my turn to talk.
“We’re so excited to have you all here, I’m excited to meet all of your boys as well Sy! I’m Alayna but for most of my life and especially around here, everyone has always called me Lainie. Sy and I are so happy to be back here, we were campers ourselves but it’s been 7 years since we’ve been to camp.” I said. I stifled a laughed watching a few of them try to do the math in their head to calculate how old we were.
“My family and I have been coming to camp since my dad was a kid,” Sy added. “I’m sure there are things that have changed since we’ve been here but there are some traditions that never wil!” He smiled. “You guys ready to kick off this summer?” They all cheered excitedly.
“Okay,” I spoke. “Some people love this and some people don’t but there are 16 of you, there’s no faster way for us to learn all of your names and you who you are than some icebreakers.” a few of them groaned. “I know, I know we’re gonna make this as painless as possible, we were campers too remember? We went back and tried to find the games we had the most fun doing.
“Everyone know how to play 2 truths and a lie?” Logan asked. Most of them nodded but we still explained the rules as a refresher. “But after we all guess.” He added. “We want you to talk a little bit more about one of your truths to us. Or explain why you chose that lie.” That seemed to really pique their interest. Beckett one of the boys in Logans cabin started the game.
“Alright,” he started. “I’m a lifeguard, One time when my friends and I were on a college campus tour we played a pick up game of football with some of the college players. Or as a senior prank we stole our math teachers car.” Everyone started laughing. This kid had charisma. I could already see some of the girls eyes getting all dreamy. He was funny too. Sy was going to enjoy having him as a camper.
“Did you still graduate?” Emma laughed. “No way you did that and didn’t get caught!” she said.
“I graduated,” He nodded smirking proudly.
“What position did you play?” Sy asked, talking about football.
“In school I was wide receiver.” He answered. A few of the others went around asking questions. And then we all made our guesses. We all for sure thought he was lying about the car.
“We got to sit in the stadium and watch them practice.” he said about the football. “But we didn’t get to play. I’d love to play in college though!” He added. The boys started laughing and the some of the girls shook their heads.
“No freaking way,” Nicole said “How’d you pull that off, How’d you steal the car?” He smiled proudly, this guy was going to be our camp clown for sure.
“One of my buddies TA’d for him and he would ask him to get stuff for him out of his car sometimes. So we came up with the idea that when he asked we would meet down there and move it to the student parking lot. He was a super chill guy. He thought it was funny! After he found his car anyway!” We all laughed. The game continued on. They all had a lot of fun with it. Some of them coming up with really strategic lies. Or just basic stuff they wanted us to know about them. It turned out great. It was Ryleigh’s turn last. I could see she was nervous she’d been avoiding going the whole time.
“Uh, I’m Ryleigh,” She spoke softly. “I’m in band, uh I-I really like to read, and one time in middle school I won a rollerskating contest at our roller rink,” She was playing with her fingers looking at the ground.
“What’s your favoirte book?” I asked her. She looked up for a second giving me a nervous smile.
“Uhm Thousand Words by Jennefer Brown,” She said. I smiled
“I’ve read that Its really good!” one of the girls said. I watched her face light up a little bit.
“What instrument do you play?” Sy asked.
“I play guitar.” She said. He nodded giving her a soft smile. One of the boys asked about the roller skating thing and a few other questions and we all guessed.
“I don’t think you roller skate,” Ethan, Emma’s twin brother said.
“I do!,” she smiled surprised she had fooled most of us. “I’m actually not in band. I do play guitar though! My dad taught me.” she said.
“That’s so cool!” Beckett said. “Did you bring your guitar with you? You could totally play at campfire!” He said. She blushed and nodded slightly.
“I did.” she said.
“Sweet!” He smiled at her.
Our afternoon was going really well. We talked to the kids about what things they wanted to make sure we did as a group this summer. What traditions were important to them. The boys were so excited to help Logan start planning for the prank war. At somepoint we were going to play flashlight hide and seek. That was always fun. We always set that up right after it started to get dark. They wanted to do a camp fire breakfast. We made them promise they were going to get up early to help us with it. But they were mainly just excited to hang out with their friends and do whatever we had planned. They were such a great bunch of kids. It always seemed like no matter the generation. We always reverted back to a state of innocence when we were at camp. Leaving technology behind and just being present.
It was turning out to be a perfect first day. We had the kids make their name tags and were playing a few more group games before dinner. But just as we were finishing up our last game it started to sprinkle. We gathered everyone up to head over to the dining hall and the sky let loose. It started to rain steadily. We all ran over from the Cabin’s making it inside just before it started to down pour.
“Well,” Logan said from behind me making me jump, He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare ya darlin, but I bet they cancel the welcome campfire tonight, it’ll be way to wet now.” He said. I nodded.
“That sucks. Some of the girls were looking forward to it. They had friends in other cabins they wanted to see. I had no idea it was supposed to rain.” I said.
“Yeah, I was checking the weather on my way in yesterday. Could Possibly turn into a pretty rough thunderstorm.” He added.
“Oh,” I said softly, biting my lip. I hated storms. Especially at camp. The cabins always felt so small and so thin. Like they wouldn’t hold. It was the one time I didn’t feel safe. But I played it off. “Guess we’ll be inside the rest of the evening then!”
During dinner they did infact announce that they were canceling the big welcome camp fire. It was for all the age groups at camp to welcome everyone all at once. And then each night each of the age groups had their own campfire. But we’d be doing neither of those things tonight. So much for the perfect first day. After dinner we decided to run over to the rec room. There was a pool table, and darts. Foosball, card games, board games, all of the inside entertainment we would could ever hope for. A few of the other cabin groups decided to head there too. So the campers had a lot of fun. Most of them reunited with old camp friends and made some new ones. Some of them sat down to play some pretty intense card games or board games. Some just chose to sit and talk. I was feeling really good about our first day. But then I saw Ryleigh sitting by herself. My heart broke for her. I understood how having anxiety could make these situations so difficult. I was just about to go talk with her when Sy approached.
“She’s a real sweet girl,” He said.
“You noticed too, huh?” I asked. He nodded.
“Yeah, hate to mention it but, kinda reminds me of you, in our days here.” He said.
“I was just thinking the same thing. I was gonna go talk to her, see if there’s anything I can do to help.” I sighed.
“Not yet, give it a minute.” He spoke. I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” I questioned.
“Just trust me, give it a minute.” He smirked crossing his arms. I stared at him confused for a moment. What did he know that I didn’t. But it very quickly made sense.
“No you guys go ahead and start the next round I’ll be back,” I heard one of the boys say from the table where the campers had a big Uno game going. It was Beckett I watched as he stood from the table and nervously ran his hand through his messy hair. But then his demenor switched as he put on a charming smile and a confident mask. He walked over to where Ryleigh was sitting on a beanbag in the corner doodling on a piece of paper. He plopped down next to her.
“Whatcha doin?” He asked her. She jumped startled not expecting anyone to be there.
“Just, sketching…” she answered.
“You draw?” He asked. She shook her head.
“Not really but…” I stopped listening. Letting them have their own conversation. I wouldn’t want someone to eavesdrop on a moment like this if I were her.
“How did you…?” I trailed off. Sy chuckled. His shoulders shaking with laughter.
“He noticed her a while ago. I’ve been watching him try to work up the nerve to go over there for the last 10 minutes.” he laughed. I smiled.
“Wait, so you think he likes her?” I asked.
“Oh, he definitely likes her. If the military taught me one thing. It’s how to be observant. He’s had his eye on her since we all met up this afternoon.” he smirked.
“That’s so cute,” I smiled
“I was the same way with you!” He admitted. I almost choked on air.
“I never noticed that,” I said. He shook his head smiling.
“Yeah, cause you were so quiet and stuck in your own head to realize what was going on. You didn’t even realized you liked me back until the second year we were at camp together.” He laughed.
“You did NOT like me first!” I argued.
“Did too, Just because you didn’t notice doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” He smirked. I opened my mouth to argue but there was a loud crack of thunder making me jump. I swallowed hard and looked down at the floor trying to hide the panic in my eyes.
“Still don’t like storms huh?” He questioned. I bit my lip looking up at him and shook my head.
“Hate them,” I said. Another roll of thunder and I felt myself tense. Sy put his hands on my shoulders making me look up at him.
“It’s arlight we’re safe inside.” he assured me. I nodded. He and I walked over and sat with a few of the other counselors talking for a bit and keeping an eye on our campers. About 20 minutes later the weather alert went off on the radio in the rec room. We were under a severe thunderstorm warning. We could hear the rain pounding against the roof. My heart pounded in my chest. And the thunder was getting closer. Louder. 5 minutes later. The power went out.
Sy immediately jumped up to take control of the room.
“Everybody stay calm,” He spoke softly. I heard a zipper and some rustling. He’d pulled out a large flashlight from his bag. One of the counselors walkie talkies went off. Sy lifted his to his ear to listen.
“Okay guys, just relax we’re gonna stay here until the storm lets up. Hopefully the power comes back on. Until then weve got some lantern flashlights to set up around the room. Just keep hanging out we’re alright.” He assured them. Sy and one of the other boys counselrs went into a supply closet finding the LED lantern lights they had 5 of them and set them out throughout the room illuminating it just enough for the kids to see and still be able to play cards or board games or talk. Some of the girls were a little nervous so I put on my best brave face to go over and talk to them.
“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Emma asked. I nodded.
“We’re shielded from the storm and there aren’t many windows in here. We’re perfectly safe.”
“I hate this.” another girl said.
“I know, it’s not fun but it’ll,” another loud crack of thunder and I jumped. My breathing shaky, “It’ll.. It will uhm…” I started but I couldn’t get the sentence out the panic starting to take over.
The girls both had nervous looks on their face. I was worrying them. Shit. I suck at this.
“It’ll pass soon and we’ll head back to the cabins for the night.” I heard Sy say behind me. His hand softly pressed to my lower back. “Don’t worry we’ll get out of here and right back to all the fun stuff tomorrow.” he gave them a reassuring smile.
They nodded. And I felt Logan gently leading me away. There was a small hallway that was out of the way and he pulled me to the side. “You alright?” He asked. I shook my head starting to feel myself shaking.
“I-I can’t I can’t do this. I, how am I supposed to help them when I’m too scared myself and, I just I hate this.I feel like I can’t breathe!” I sniffed. He pulled me into him wrapping his arms around me gently shushing me.
“Shhh it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay.” He said, holding me to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He soothed.
“I’m sorry.” I breathed.
“Don’t, it’s alright.” he whispered. “Just keep breathing for me,” He talked me through it. And when I calmed down we walked back out sitting on one of the couches again. I stayed quiet a moment watching the room.
“Sy,” I spoke finally. Just as I went to thank him his radio was going off again. We were cleared to head back to the cabins. The heavy part of the storm had passed but it was still raining. We ran back and Sy and I parted on the lawn getting our campers settled. He got the boys back to his cabin and they settled in. He made sure they all made it back
“Alright boys I’ll be right back I’m gonna go check on the girls make sure they all made it!” he told them. He ran over across the lawn and knocked on our door. I answered quickly and let out a deep breath when I saw it was him.
“You girls alright?” he asked.
“Yeah!” some of them answered. I smiled
“We’re okay.” I said softly. He smiled and nodded for me to join him out on the porch. I turned back to the girls “I’ll be right back ladies, go ahead and get ready for bed, lights out is in 30 minutes!” I told them. I closed the door behind me. And let the sceen door slam shut.
“Are you okay?” He asked after a beat of silence.
“Yeah, I am,...Thank you for helping me back there,” I said.
“This isn’t our first storm together honey,” He smiled. “I’ll always be there to help ya.” I blushed.
“You’ve always been such a gentleman. You’re mama raised you right.” I smiled.
“Nah, just with you, comes naturally,” He said. I felt my cheeks heat up even more and I looked away trying to compose myself.
“So, was that…all?” I asked. He stepped closer to me until I was leaning against the picnic table.
“No,” He smiled. “There’s one other thing.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek his eyes staring down into mine. I couldn’t take it anymore. We’d drawn this out for too long. 7 years too long. I wrapped one arm around his neck the other hand gently resting on the back of his head pulling him down to me. He responded immediately pressing his lips to mine. His other hand found my waist pulling me close holding me against him. All of the air left my lungs as I kissed him back with everything I had. I whimpered softly when he pulled away.
“Shit, “ He smiled breathless. “Only took me 7 years but I uh..” He breathed “just wanted to kiss you goodnight.” I nodded still cathing my breath smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
“One more for good measure?” I asked blushing. He smirked. And pulled me in again kissing me softer this time. It was slow and sensual. He leaned his forehead against mine when he pulled away.
“A man could get addicted to that,” he said. I smiled slowly trailing my hand from his should and down his chest.
“I wouldn’t mind.” I laughed. He chuckled and pecked my lips one more time.
“Goodnight Darlin’”
“Goodnight, Sy” I watched him run through the rain back to his cabin and I stood their for a moment regaining my composure before I went back inside. Just as I was about to open the door. I heard the one of the girls say
“No, I’m serious you guys I think they’re married!” it sounded like Nicole
“Nikki, Neither one of them is wearing a ring!” Emma said.
“Okay well dating at least, They’re like super in love! You should’ve seen them in the rec room! I had to pee and they were in the hall by the bathrooms. He was like holding her it was so cute!”
“Aww that’s so sweet, she was definitely scared! I felt so bad!” One of the other girls, Chloe added.
“I know, OH MY GOD! Do you think they’ll let us call them Mom and Dad? Remember last year when we had Carrie and Andrew and they were married? That was so cute they literally treated us like their kids!” nicole squealed.
“I hope so!” Emma said “I really like them! They’re both so nice, and I really hope they’re dating if they’re not they need to be, because they’d be so cute together!” I chuckled to myself before opening the door and they’re attention turned to me but they went quiet.
“Okay girls gossip time is over! Time for lights out!” I said. They groaned.
“Okay but wait, are you and Logan Married?” Nicole asked.
“Nicole do you see a ring? What did I just say? But you two are dating right?!” Emma added. I chuckled to myself and shook my head.
“Goodnight girls.”
“Ugh fine be like that girl,” Nicole pouted.
“Goodnight Lainie!” Emma called.
“Goodnight,” Ryleigh said softly. The rest of the girls settled in and I turned out the lights and climbed into my bunk. I bit my lip and smiled to myself holding in an excited. Squeal. Maybe this was still the perfect first day after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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