#need to be a backed up sexy pest

[denied-enby-fuckbot]

need to be outfitted with an oversized vibrating hypersensitive cyborg cock and balls that increase in size with every edge

[localkiss]

Fucking After Party!

pairings: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: Of course your big brother coddles you. Do you find it weird? Yes. So, you slip away to a Halloween party, unbeknownst to what will happen later in the night. Maybe you'll find yourself clinging to your older brother in time of need.

cw: MDNI!! INCEST !! Knives, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, noncon/dubcon, creampies, spanking, manhandling, degradation, praise, overstimulation, poor depictions of alcohol and drinking, poor depictions of flirting (im shorry), videotaping.. um probably more but i don't wanna spoil it. LEON IS VERY OOC (since some ppl are babies about that 🙄)

wc: 4.6k

tags: @dilfstar @adiorxia @leonkennedygvrl @bunnyclaire @rigorwhoring @leonsdolly @admirxation @gettingsilly @nilpill @withonly-sweetheart @cakelitter

“Hey little sis,” he hums out, hand reaching up to pet your head with affection. Thinking about how cute you are when you look up at him with red hot cheeks. His eyes dip down your body, so soft and plush. Perfect. 

“Leoonnnn!” You drag out his name in an annoyed tone. Swatting his hand away. Can't help but think that he's a pest, constantly buzzing around you. Never leaving you alone.

Like, c’mon doesn't he have a job? He's always been a bit of a lurker around you, but especially now that you're in college. Can't always be his baby sis. One day, you'll have a significant other, leave the house, and sort of cut contact for the most part. Be too busy to entertain your loser of an older brother. 

To him though? You will be by his side forever. Dote on you forever and ever. Never make you pay any bills, lift a finger, or even have the time to complain about something. Because, guess what! Big brother is always here for you. To take care of you and never make you have to get a job to sustain yourself. 

Leon just chuckles at your display of frustration. He wants to comment on how cute you are, especially when you say his name like that. 

Wants to just snatch you up and cuddle with you until you are fast asleep in his arms. His strong, firm biceps against your body like you're a body pillow. 

Imagining you scooting up close until you're snug against his body. Your ass pressing into his groin so much that he can feel your tailbone. To imagine you knocked out so he can take full advantage of you. Better yet, if you pretend to be asleep, letting him grope you in ways a brother shouldn't. 

Honestly, he thought about ordering some sleeping pills to dissolve into your drinks. So when he feels like feeling you up in your sleep, he can do it while making sure you're gonna stay asleep.

And place a camera in your room so he can watch back on how you look and react in your sleep. See if you smile in your sleep. Good material to jerk off to, especially good if he manages to snag a pair of your panties.

He sucks on his teeth and shakes his head down at you. “So… where’re you headed, looking like that? Got a hot date or what?” Leon drags his eyes slowly once more. One thing caught his eye immediately. Can't believe he didn't even notice it the first time he looked at you. 

You are wearing black pantyhose and a white mini dress. What are you, some cheap hooker? No, no, no… you are his baby. Only he should see you like this. Not some fucking douchebag who's going to do a pump and dump.

Man, if he ever catches some guy trying to dick you down in your bed.. it'll be over. One flash of his badge and the guy will go running off with his tail between his legs. It doesn't mean anything to Leon if your love or sex life doesn't even begin.

“I'm going to a Halloween party.” You answer bluntly, gesturing towards your sexy nurse rendition. Shifting from one foot to the other, your maroon colored heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Sighing deeply, like he's boring you. 

Leon raises his eyebrows. Even worse than a date. A whole party full of immature adults whose brains aren't fully developed. Great. Perfect. 

“Sure you don't want me to go with you? I can be a sexy cop,” he puts his hands on his hips with a sly smile. “I can even bring my handcuffs.” 

You wrinkle your nose at that. “Um, no thanks. You'll just be watching me the entire time, again. Remember last time?” 

Closing your eyes and shaking your head rapidly for a few seconds. It was weird. 

“Oh come on , I was making sure nobody was trying anything funny. Can't consent if you're totally wasted.” As if he isn't planning on touching you in your sleep. 

Though, you've no idea that he's thinking this stuff. Supposed to be a good guy. Good cop. 

However, there is something about you that makes that dark side of his brain itch. Maybe it is because you are his little sister? The fact that you guys used to play house together? Used to do things that would be weird to do as two grown adults. 

Him being the husband, you being the wife. Parents in the other room as you mimicked what they did a lot, which is a quick peck on the lips. It was innocent. 

Or when you both were forced to change in the bathroom together, after swimming. It was all fine and dandy since you're family. And when it became weird, was when you were fourteen and he was sixteen. 

Weird that your brother kept following you and bothering you. Or was the chaperone at dances. Always staring and glaring down at other boys. Pissed you off and you both argued on the way home. You did not have a good time at any dances because of him. 

“I need to protect you from the bad guys,” he said. “Mom says I have to watch you, since I'm older than you,” he said. What is he, some sort of hero?

It only got worse when you walked in on him masturbating. You remember the way his mouth was formed in an ‘o’ shape, how his cock was flushed at the tip. How he had his head tilted back into his pillow. The lewd sounds of him fucking his fist and his soft groans and whimpers. And how his muscles rippled with each tug, the slight sheen of sweat on his naked figure. 

Leon was just mumbling to himself. “Yeah? Yeah, just like that. Mhmm…” 

“Take it baby, take it.”

“Please let me cum inside of you. Please let me.” 

And a whole bunch of other things you simply wish you never heard out of his mouth. It makes you cringe. But you also feel disgusted for squeezing your thighs together as you watched him. He was big. Real big. 

“Yeah. But I want to go, to have a good time, Leon.” You insist on leaving alone. “I'll text you if I need any help.” 

Giving him a flat smile, you click clack your way to your friend's car outside. Getting inside the vehicle and driving away swiftly. Looking out the window and seeing Leon wave goodbye to you. 

As soon as you arrive at the party, you are bombarded with the smell of weed, sweat, and alcohol. Just the right scent notes for a candle!

You shimmy your way into the kitchen for a red solo cup to fill up with some concoction of alcohol and juice. Doing so, you find yourself flirting with a guy who is dressed up as a vampire. And he convinces you to dance with him. 

Making your way to the dance floor, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. Slowly moving it down towards your hips. It’s a bit weird for someone to be so confident and comfortable with touching a woman like that immediately. But you ignore it for the time being. 

Slowly getting to know him and all of his interests. Barely giving you any time to talk about yourself. It's whatever. He's cute. 

It sure is fun letting loose and drinking all your sorrows away.

You feel his hand start to slip down towards the top of your ass. Still, you don't say anything. Maybe it's just the alcohol dulling your senses, you just can't find a care in the world to stop him. 

He leads you back to the kitchen, pouring you a drink. Urging you to finish what he made you before you both got back to the dance floor. Kind of weird, but alright. 

Shit. All you can see and feel is his soft body against you, his dick grinding up against your stomach. The black shaggy hair and his stupid vampire collar. And his old spice ass cologne, ugh. Headache central. 

You excuse yourself and go to the kitchen. Fixing yourself another cup, because fuck it. And then another man comes up and starts chatting away with you. 

Eventually, you both make it outside. Talking about the most random bullshit you could think of. 

This guy's pretty cute too. No costume though, from what you could tell. And, he's eyeing you up like candy. Like he wants to eat you up here and now. Hot…!

He's tall, skinny, and has dark brown hair. Oh, not to mention the weird black lines on his face. Maybe…it's his costume? You hope. 

“So, what's your costume?” You gesture towards his outfit. 

“I'm dressed up as Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen, you probably don't know it. It's an anime.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk to his lips. 

Oh! So he's one of those guys. Yeah, nevermind. No thanks, Mr. Nice guy. 

“Oh, okay… Cool. I'll be sure to look that up later,” you hum and nod your head. 

He created this awkward atmosphere. Best to just swipe it under the rug and talk about something else. Or, just get more alcohol! Because alcohol fixes everything! 

Both of you make your way back into the house and you grab some more of that good stuff. Gulping it all down and smoothing your slutty nurse outfit out. Bending over to fix your stockings, to make sure it looks cute still. 

Somebody comes up behind you and whistles. That gets your attention in the wrong way. Doesn't matter to the guy though. Attention is attention. Can't help but wrinkle your nose at him, watching him walk away with a smug look on his face.

You straighten up and sigh, checking your phone. It's only been two hours? 

God, it feels like it's been an eternity in this swamp of horny drunk adults. You can't see your friends anywhere, assuming they've already left and are going to hookup with some stranger. Like always, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. It's cool though. 

Rubbing your bleary eyes, you stumble out the front door. The chilly air of October coming to bite you in the ass. Quite literally. It's almost hanging out with the way it keeps riding up. It's not too cold, as you have some liquid courage in your system! Thank god for that! 

Feeling your teeth start to chatter, you manage to send your location to Leon. Opening your camera, you take a good look at yourself. Fixing yourself up to take a few photos. Might as well, since you look absolutely amazing. Wouldn’t want this makeup to be all for nothing, now would we?

As you smile and pose for the camera, you feel two arms slipping around your waist. But no groin pressing up against you. Odd. You bite your lip and turn your head. 

“What the—Leon?”

“Yes, silly. That's my name, don't wear it out.” He chuckles down at you. “What? I was getting ready to pose for a picture with you.” 

You roll your eyes, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. And at the last second, he moves his hand to come up and squish your cheeks together. Ruining the photo. 

Turning around, you let out a huff of air. Hitting him once in the chest before making your way to his Jeep. Not bothering to chastise him for doing that. You've had enough of men for today. 

Buckling yourself, you squeeze your legs together, trying to warm up quickly. The warm air fanning all around you, undoing all the prickles in your skin, it's refreshing. Leon gets into the driver's side and buckles himself before driving back to your guys’ house. 

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back against the headrest. The bumps and the soft sound of the radio killing you to sleep. Thankfully Leon doesn't say anything the rest of the way home. 

As the car slows to a stop, you wake up from your little—but much appreciated—nap. Groaning, you unbuckle and get out. Staggering your way up the stairs and waiting for Leon to hurry up and unlock the front door. 

His thick hair bounces with each step he takes as he jogs his way towards you. Opening it and walking inside, shutting it and locking it behind you.

He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the door and disappears into the hallway. You sigh, taking your heels off and hurrying to your room. Closing it behind you, you set your shoes on the floor. Flopping onto your bed with a groan. 

Before you could begin to take off your clothes, the power goes out. Leaving you in complete darkness. Double tapping your phone, you put on your flashlight. 

“Leon?” You call out, crawling out of bed to open your door. 

A few beats later there's a loud thud, which makes you jump. Okay, now you are really scared. Soft hums and deafening white noise fills your ears. You go to his door and knock on it. 

No answer, yet again. Did this asshole fall asleep? Great. 

Making your way towards the living room, you hear yet another noise. “Ha ha.. very funny Leon! I know its you.” 

You hope it's just him pulling a prank. Hope.

And when you finally reach to your destination, you move your phone around to see if anyone's there. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a tall black figure. 

Screaming, you almost slip and fall trying to run back into your room. But before you could make it, their hands grab onto your waist as tight as possible. Pulling you back towards their chest. God damn it, you dropped your phone!

“Please let me go!” You start panicking and sobbing, kicking your feet out in hopes that they drop you. “I don't wanna die! Please…!”

They don't, obviously. And you try to elbow them in the stomach, hearing them groan and tighten their grip around you. Putting one hand over your mouth with ease.

The man drags you back into the living room, throwing you on the couch and straddling your hips. You hear him snort and in turn makes your stomach churn with disgust mixed with fear. Sobbing, you feel weak due to being inebriated and scared. Unable to try and push him off of you. 

“You're so stupid,” he says lowly, his gloved hands pinning your wrists down with one, the other one squishing your cheeks together. “So slutty too.” 

His hand leaves your face and traces the curves of your body. Too bad you can't see his face. Stupid mask. 

“W-What do you want from me?” You squeak out, feeling his hand start to grope at your chest with interest. 

“Your virginity, baby.” He coos, ripping off your skimpy nurse dress. The buttons go flying everywhere. His voice sounds familiar though. 

In the state of shock, he takes the opportunity to pull out his knife and cut through your bra. Watching the way your nipples pebble up and how your tits jiggle. Putting his knife back, he groans. Grabbing a tit and squeezing it before letting it go to slap it. 

“Stop it! Why are you doing this to—” 

Listening to the way you gasp and whimper. He repeats it a couple times to each tit, before he pulls up his mask just enough to see his mouth. 

Leaning down, he forces you into a kiss. His hand lightly holding you down by the neck, his thumb gently squeezing the side. Letting you feel lightheaded so that you still panic at the thought of him killing you. 

“Taste so good, pretty girl.” The man laughs into the kiss before he gets off of you. 

Maneuvering you into the missionary position. Pushing your legs down with his weight as he ties your hands together. 

Once he deems it good enough, he gets up and starts to shuffle things around. And lights a few candles, making you squint, noticing something being propped up. Blinking a few times, you see it's a fucking camera. 

“Please, don't do this to me. Please…” you beg him, watching him make his way back to you. 

His hands sliding up your legs, playing with the stockings you have on. “Cute tights you've got on, slut.” He hums, his thumbs trace the lace. 

Moving up until he reaches your panties. “Hm, cute thong too. I see it's nice and soaked for me. And here you were, screaming and crying for me to stop.” He cuts them off of you, dragging the dull tip of his blade against your skin. Seeing you jump as he gets closer to your chubby cunt. 

“Got nothing to say?” The man puts his knife away, his thumb swiping over your folds. Not rubbing where you want him to rub, just teasing around it. 

“Please…” you whine out, trying to move your hips in a way that makes his thumb press against your clit. 

He chuckles, laying between your thighs, holding them up over his shoulders. “I know, I know. You want your pretty pussy to be played with. Want it to be raped too, huh?” Licking up and down your lips, teasingly dipping his tongue into your hole. 

Groaning, he starts to suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. You moan and squirm under him, feeling his hot tongue against your clit feels soo good. Moving your tied hands down to grab at his head. Needing to hold on to something. 

“Mmh.. right there,” you mewl, grabbing at his head harder. Hearing him slurp and moan into your pussy like he's the one that's getting head. 

“Yeah, right here?” He goads, taking your clit between his teeth gently. Nibbling on it and swirling his tongue all over it. And all thoughts in your head became mush. 

It creeps up on you like a jump scare in a movie. One minute you're fine, next minute you are jumping. Not because you're scared, but because you came so hard your body couldn't help but thrash around. 

“I'm… I'm c-coming!” Loud cries came out of your mouth as your legs shook and planted themselves against his head. The fact a camera is recording your every move and word, slips out of your brain and out into his mouth. 

And he greedily latches his mouth onto your hole. Getting every last drop of your cum before he sits up on his haunches and removes his mask. Maybe it's because you just came, but you aren't so alarmed that it's Leon. 

“What the fuck? Leon?!” Your cunt throbs, feeling your heart sink down straight to your ass. You can't even move properly and that makes him smile. 

“What the fuck, Leon?” He mocks you, leaning down to get all up in your face. “So fucking cute,” he hums, squishing your face together before moving it away from him, “so stupid though. I mean, fuck. You'd get wet and spread your legs for any man who wants to lick you open?” 

Leon tuts, giving your cheek a few taps before he pushes down his black sweats. His cock already hard and flushed red at the tip. Giving it a few slow strokes, his other hand gently roams up your body, giving your boob a feel. 

“Gonna let big brother take your virginity? Let me split open this cute cunt?” Leon watches you intently, tapping the weeping tip on your sensitive bud. “Not gonna fuck you until you beg for it.” Grabbing your left leg and lifting it up against his chest. 

You feel your eyes well up with tears once more. Lifting your head, you watch his heavy cock play with your pussy lips. Blinking them away, you swallow the thickness in your throat. 

“Please.. fuck me,” you mumble out, looking away, towards the camera unknowingly. 

“What was that? Speak up, princess.” Leon guides the tip to your hole, letting it kiss your opening. 

“Oh my fucking god! Just fuck me, Leon!” 

Shaking his head disapprovingly, he leans down, pushing it in slowly. “Big brother's gotta fuck this attitude out of you, hm? Yeah, he's gonna keep this fat cunt nice and full until she's learned her lesson.” His dirty brown hair falls into your face as he moans from the sensation of your cunt around his length. 

Keeping his eyes locked into your face as he sinks deeper into you. “Does it hurt, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you clench down on him, your velvety walls squeezing him just right. “It's too big.” A deep whine in your throat bubbles up. 

“Aww, poor pussy’s gonna go through it, yeah? Too bad big brother's cock wants to punish his little sister's cunt. Mhm…” he presses his lips against yours as he humps your wetness, softly making out with you. His hand goes up your arm and holds your hand in reassurance. 

As you lock tongues, he takes the opportunity to go just a bit harder and faster. Groaning as you flutter and cant your hips into his pelvis. The shaven patch of hair just runs against your clit just right. 

Pulling away, he lets go of your leg and hand, holding onto your hip and pushing your face towards the camera. “I'm recording this, smile for the camera baby,” he says between gritted teeth. 

Moaning, you look directly into the lenses, tightening around him. “Mmhh—fuck—please!” you squirm, moving your arms to block your face. Too embarrassed to look into it while he's fucking you. 

“You camera shy now? So adorable, lil sis,” he grunts, plowing even harder now. Both hands gripping onto the fat of your hips, listening to the squelching from your wetness. “You hear that? Sopping wet for your big brother. Tightened up when you were forced to look into the camera. It's okay baby, nobody else will see this video but me.” His thumb starts to swirl around your clit hard. 

Rubbing it fast, feeling you start to come undone on his dick. The feeling of his leather gloves catches onto your clit deliciously. You feel red and hot all over, your stomach tensing up. And you start screaming, legs going numb, feeling your upper body jerk forward as you cum. “Leon!” 

“Fuck!” Leon rabbits his hips into your squelching heat, roughly fucking you into the couch, “didn't know you'd squirt so easily.” He lets out a mix of a moan and a laugh, giving your pussy a few taps before putting you into a mating press. 

Feeling your lace stockings against his head as he drives into his own orgasm. “All fucked out now, mhm. Yeah, big brother's g’nna feed your pussy his cum. Get you fucking pregnant, oh—” 

He growls as his balls plap against your ass. Filling you up with hot white sticky ropes, stuffing you to the brim. But his hips don't stop fucking it into you. Pressing his cold lips against yours, he slows down. 

Leon huffs and leans back, pulling out his still hard cock soaked with a mixture of your fluids and his. Watching your cunt open and close, oozing out his spend. 

He unties your wrists and rubs up and down your sides. “Let me fuck you again, please lil sis?” Feeling your body hiccup and twitch from overstimulation. 

Rubbing your ruined eye makeup, you weakly nod your head. “Uhuh, want it again.” 

And then he's back all over you. Kissing you and groping your tits. Twisting your nipples and pinching them as his mouth makes its way to your neck. Begining to litter you with marks to insinuate you are taken. 

He switches to the other one, giving it the same love and attention he gave to your right breast. And before he stops, he presses a kiss in the valley of your breasts. 

“Okay, on your stomach now.” He guides you to flip over, spreading your ass to watch your holes wink at him. Gives it a smack, loving the way it moves. 

Leon braces himself on his forearm as he pushes the head back in. Whimpering as he presses his chest against your back, arms caging you into the couch. 

“Good god, you're so tight,” humping into you, he whispers into your ear. His breath hot and his voice low, sending chills down your spine and it warms your belly up. 

“This slutty pussy is mine, alright? Won't let any other man come near you. You're my little sister.” 

“Uhuh, s’all yours big brother,” you feed into his fucked up mindset. Letting him fuck you into his idealization of you. Soft, sweet, and pliant. 

Rocking your hips back, you moan into the cushions. With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper. Making you arch your back from how deep he is. 

Soft squeaks and punched out groans rise from your throat, “Leon, please,” grabbing ahold of his hand and squeezing it. “Oh, fuck, please.” 

His pace starts to pick up, watching the way your head bobbles from his thrusts. Heavy balls plapping away at your clit, making you cry out. He drives himself harder into your wet hole, striving to make you cum again. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Soak my cock again, uhuh, c’mon baby,” Leon encourages you, whimpering and growling in your ear. The loud slapping noises echoing throughout the room. The smell of sex and sweat twirling in the air like dust particles.

Hot and heavy breaths against your neck as he clumsily kisses your pulse point. You shivering beneath him, milking his cock for all its worth is what drives him crazy. Pushing on your lower back as he grips a cheek and then slaps it. Over and over again. 

Hearing you crying out for him is enough for him to spill his seed once more. He pulls your hair and makes your face visible to the camera, coaxing you through your final orgasm of the night. Listening to you squeal and call out his name. 

“Good girl. You ready for me to pump this cunt up full with my cum?” Leon starts humping you, barely pulling out as he waits for your answer. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Eyes rolling into the back of your head as he slams his hips against your ass. 

About a half a dozen of thrusts, he spurts his load deep into your womb. Letting go of your hair, he lazily grinds his seed into your throbbing pussy as much as he can, before all of it comes pooling out. 

“Fuck me, jesus christ. ‘Bout emptied my balls into you. Fuck, I was backed up.” Leon pulls out of you and spreads you open, watching it bubble and pop out. Biting his lip as he pushes it back in with his thumb. 

Pulling up his pants, he grabs a few tissues to clean you up. As well as the couch. Oops, hope your parents don't notice any stains! 

“I'm so full,” you mumble, wincing as you turn on your back. “It's going to be your fault if I can't walk tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He snorts, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead. 

“Oh shit, I've got to stop the recording,” he goes over and shuts it off with a dopey smile on his face. “taking your first time on our first tape together.” 

Groaning, you push him away as he begins to snuggle with you. “God. Gross, get out of here.” 

“C'mon, I'll buy you as many sour patch kids and chocolates as you want. But first, let's go clean up properly.” He convinces you and you allow him to carry you bridal style into the bathroom. 

Of course, with a roll of your eyes with it too. “You better.” Because you wouldn't be his cute baby sis without having some sort of attitude towards him. Even after he fucked your brains out. 

(genuinely forgot where i got the divider for the content warning. augh. I'll find it later.)

[dilfl0v3rss]

Hear me outt 🌝 - jealous ony .. and y/n gets a lil lesson

yes yes yesssssss😩

all mine

cw: car sex, public sex!!

word count: 1.8k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

ony isn’t the jealous type, having lots of confidence in your love for him. he trusted you with his life and expected you to do the same with him so if there was an issue that had him feeling a little more possessive then it usually had barely anything to do with you. it was these thirsty ass niggas.

“baby please go sit the fuck down. too damn early for you t’be irritating me.” it was nine in the morning and you decided i’d be fun to give ony a little show in the living room, twerking and singing along to different songs playing on youtube. right now the princess dianna remix was playing and you was sitting in his lap, bouncing up and down as if you were riding him. “cmon boy i know you wanna touch all dis.” hands raking all over your body as you looked down at his bored face.

ony wasn’t trying to do nothing but smoke a wood with his breakfast and you were ruining that by putting your tiddies all in his face. “mama go somewhere wit allat before i spank you furreal.” his deep voice rumbled from his chest as he lightly pushed you off of him. this man clearly had an attitude, but you knew his stuck up ass wasn’t gon say nothing about it. “what’s wrong papa? why you so aggy?” you were trying to get him to communicate with you, but quickly changed your mind once he got to sucking his teeth, acting as if you were being a pest or something.

rolling your eyes, you started to say something smart, but we’re cut off by the sound of ony’s ringtone. connie’s contact came up and the way your man moved to grab the phone pissed you tf off. “yoo?……nah i’m just chillin at the crib rn…..of course gang we out.” your hands instantly gravitated towards your hips, weight being supported on one leg as you gave him a stank face. “you out where?”

once again, this sassy ass man sucked his teeth before replying. “finna go hoop wit the guys.” this had to be some type of sick joke. there’s no way this man, YOUR man, the one who literally had an attitude five minutes ago, was suddenly prepped up and ready to go run around with his little friends, but couldn’t even have a little fun with you.

“what about me? you don’t wanna stay wit me today daddy?” voice softening as you leaned down to ony’s face. you looked into his brown eyes as you waited for him to fold. he stared right back at you, licking his lips before his phone buzzed once again, ruining the moment as you seen his group chat start to blow his phone up with messages. “you can come wit me ma, but i wanna go hoop.”

what a fucking joke. you pushed yourself of off where your arms were rested before walking to your room, hips swaying with attitude. you wanted to go to target anyways so you decided you’d go to the park with him just this once to get what you wanted, but you had no intention of speaking to this man until he gave you the attention you deserved.

you sat on the park bench, watching ony get all sweaty and sexy playing with his friends. “cashhh bitch! y’all niggas suck i’m finna start putting money on this shit.” ony chuckled as he watched eren and reiner holding their hands on their knees, clearly out of breath from getting their ass whooped again.

“man fuck you. you and connie don’t even need to be on the same team cause y’all mothafuckas played in high school. if we was on that field you know damn well me and rei would be whooping that ass.” eren and reiner dapped each other up before each of them went to go get some water. ony approached you on the bench, shirt discarded somewhere near the courts, chest glistening with sweat as he practically snatched the water from in front of you and drank it.

“excuse me you fucking beast. at least ask.” you reached to snatch the water back, but he just held it higher so you couldn’t reach, giving you a warning glacé. “girl watch your mouth ‘fore i embarrass you in this park.” you rolled your eyes, plopping yourself back in your seat and pulling out your phone. “just go play wit ya little boyfriends ony.” you mumbled, texting on your phone as if you said nothing.

ony clearly didn’t hear you, walking back to go set up another game. “excuse me. this seat taken?” you turned around with attitude, still pissed at your stupid ass boyfriend. when you looked up at where the voice was coming from you were surprised to see a very handsome older man staring back at you. “nah you good. s’just me.” the man smiled at you, gladly taking a seat while digging in his back for his sneakers. “aww that’s a shame. why’s a pretty girl like you at the park all alone?”

you were going to correct him and let him know that you meant alone on the bench, not alone at the park, but your words were soon forgotten. “i’m zeke, eren’s brother. you a friend of his?” you nodded your head, voice stuck in your throat as zeke chuckled at your lack of reply. “you don’t talk much do ya? that’s fine. how about you give me your number and i’ll do all the talking.” as handsome as he was, you were a loyal woman and only wanted to be with one man.

you opened your mouth to politely shoot him down when you were interrupted. “nah she good.” ony’s lower stomach was was right behind your head as you and zeke looked up at him. face showing signs of irritation as he stood over you with his arms crossed on his chest. zeke held his hands up in defense as he practically rats you out. “i mean no harm, the pretty lady said she was here alone so i asked for her number. i had no idea.”

you looked up at your boyfriend, giving him a shy smile as you practically smelled the jealousy coming off of him. “uhh we’ll since that’s outta the way, you guys got room for one more?” zeke stood up, clearly uncomfortable with the tense energy being emitted from the both of you right now. “go ahead man, m’just leaving.” the blonde man gave him a small nod before leaving the two of you alone. “baby it’s not what is lo-”

“get in the car mama, we going home.”

the two of you didn’t even make is home, legs spread in the passenger seat as ony had one hand caressing the back of your neck while the other was buried deep in your panties. you’ve tried explaining the situation many times, and he seemed to understand what really happened, but he still fingered you with so much vigor that you couldn’t help but feel he was upset with you. “p-please papa i didn’t do anything wrongggg. it was just mis-miscommunication.”

his fingers dug into you deeper, nodding to you in understanding as he sucked hickies into your neck. “i know mama. i know. it’s just…just-” “jus’ what daddy? what i do?” a soft sigh left your lips at ony’s fingers left your hole, lifting to your clit before rubbing it slowly. “ion like seeing you talk to men ion know.” his fingers moved faster, making you shake under his arm as your release approached.

“i didn’t k-know. m’sorryyyy” your climax was at the tip of your tongue, but before long it was ripped away. ony leaned back in his seat before pulling his shorts and boxers below his hips. dick standing tall against his stomach as his hands moved towards your hips. “it’s okay princes. ima teach you, and make sure you never forget.”

though ony had a soft smile on his face, his grip on your hips was tight as he lifted you over the center console. your sundress was bunched up at your stomach so your boyfriend had easy access to your pretty pussy. he waisted no time ripping your panties in the middle and lining himself up with your tight entrance. “no screaming, no running, no crying, understand?”

before you could answer a scream erupted from your throat as ony slammed you down on his dick. “the fuck i just say mama?” large hands squeezing your ass tightly as he continued bouncing you up and down on his lap. lewd moans flew from your lips as you felt how delicious your walls felt against him. “i know it feel good, but i need you to stay quiet f’me okay? we still in public.” your eyes migrated toward the tinted windows, getting a good view of the still occupied park as well as you friends playing basketball.

“i’ll be quiet, promise.” your lips connected, dancing sloppily with each other before ony spoke into your mouth. “good girl.” his dick began kissing your cervix, palms taking up most of the space of your ass. “you mine right?” the two of you were eye to eye as he moved his hand to your neck, a silent command for you to bounce on your own as he continued thrusting from under you.

“y-yes daddy. only yours.” ony smiled at your response, rewarding you by angling his hips upward in the way that makes you want to melt into him. “this my pussy ain’t it?” he took your wrists, holding them behind your back as the two of you made love chest to chest. you moaned his name repeatedly like a prayer until you felt the urge to pee. “your heart, mind, and body. who’s is it?”

you felt your climax once again, this time stronger than before. pussy already leaking so much that it wet the seats under you as you continued fucking yourself onto ony’s dick. he knew you were close when you clenched tightly around him, clearly holding your release in so you can ask for permission. a wide smile crept into his face as he watched how obedient you were. “answer me and you can cum mama. who you belong to?”

“y-you daddyyy.” usually this answer would’ve satisfied him, but your boyfriend was in a different type of mood today. “nah princess say my name. my real name.” your pussy fluttered around him in delight, loving every second of this moment as you began kissing up his chest. ony shivered under you when you reached his neck, stopping right behind his ear. “i’m all y-yours. on-onyankoponnnn.”

your orgasm crashed down in waves, making you shake as your juices ran down his thighs. your boyfriend wasn’t far behind you, shooting his load deep inside you while holding your body on his. “that’s my good girl. never forget that either.”

[psychedelicriot]

MONSTER X MEDIATOR Walkthrough: Purple Room 004/Sir Knight

Hi, got this game DL'd just yesterday, and I'm defo frustrated since I want to see some walkthroughs ;-; Here we go, I guess? Note that this is how I got the ending through my way, pretty sure that there could've been any other way, but this is how I got mine! This would include commentaries on the ending, you might wanna skip if you don't care.

TW/CW: This game contains questionable theme, bloods, explicit description of gore, and sexual assault on this route.

WILL BE UPDATED AS I/THE CREATOR PROGRESS ON THE GAME! <3

If you'd like to, you can check other routes walkthrough here! Red Room 001

(Bow respectfully.) / I have direct orders from the king himself! / An idiot says what?

2-*clap* / So you won't kill me?

1- I can't leave even if I wanted to... / How about I stay and helo you clean!

Bad Ending: Pest Control

I have direct orders from the king himself!

*clap* (or you can just, straight out choose "So you won't kill me?")

I can't leave even if I wanted to...

You got beaten and bludgeoned to death, that's it. Basically, he only do not kill you at first since he thought you could just yeet yourself out of his presence. Turns out you can't. You could also achieve this ending by other routes, but making a mistake along the way, like failing to meet his baking standard, etc etc!

Bad Ending: Endless Death Sentence for The Charlatan

I have direct orders from the king himself!

*clap*

How about I stay and help you clean!

Down it like a champ

Preheat the oven

Get the puff pastry

Put one of the puff pastry sheets on top

We wait? / We clean up? (Both options would still lead you into the same route)

You'd make a great househusband. / What about yoru sword? / What exactly are you? (You can choose both option and would still come back to the same options-choosing)

Are the Palmiers done?

Eat them. / Throw them into the vent. (Both options would still lead you into the same route)

Try to pull out the sword

Order him around first.

Abuse your power.

So, you get some fun by ordering him around, but then the real master punish you for being a meanie. Done.

PURPLE ROOM 003: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (1)

I have direct orders from the king himself!

*clap*

How about I stay and help you clean!

Down it like a champ

Preheat the oven

Get the puff pastry

Put one of the puff pastry sheets on top

We wait? / We clean up? (Both options would still lead you into the same route)

You'd make a great househusband. / What about yoru sword? / What exactly are you? (You can choose both option and would still come back to the same options-choosing)

Are the Palmiers done?

Eat them. / Throw them into the vent. (Both options would still lead you into the same route)

Try to pull out the sword

Order him to leave the hotel room.

You got him wrapped around your fingertips and you got him out! Win-win situation! Yay, basically it's not the ending, you still need to handle the other rooms (if you haven't). Though, you basically managed to coerce him to leave the room. And you'll get his information sheet afterwards!

Bonus: His sexy-ass apron.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 104

Jaskier likes his flat. It's a nice one, all things considered, he believes. He just wishes there weren't so many spiders in the summer. He doesn't care if they're "harmless", if they're "nice", if they keep away other bugs, they are freaky, and he wants them burned with a flamethrower before they even look at him and his home. One frankly embarrassing morning, he screams at a particularly fast spider, and he apparently did so loud and bloodcurdling enough that it worried his neighbor. He opens the door to a very concerned man that CLEARLY descended from heaven itself to bless this earthly plane with just how hot he fucking is. "I'm Geralt, from the next few doors over, is everything alright?" "Y- yes, sorry, Didn't mean to worry anyone, so sorry, that's my bed- I mean bad- How long have you lived here? Have you always lived here? So close? I mean- There was a spider, see, and it was so fast, and it had so many disgusting little legs-" Super-sexy-neighbor-man - Geralt, Jaskier's mind helpfully catches him up - chuckles a bit and nods. "Alright. I'm glad you're okay." And then just fucking WALKS AWAY? Jaskier fans himself, and swoons against his door. And then he spots the demon under the couch and he screeches again. Whoops. "SORRY!" Geralt comes home one day to find that one neighbor of his in the hall, the door to his flat wide open. "Um- Are you alright?" "No!" The man shrieks at him, and points at his flat. "There's a giant arachnid looming over my kitchen! I need someone to kill it!" The colorful man pleads, and Geralt sighs and walks into the flat. Just as he thought. A common pest-eating spider that doesn't harm humans. He supposes they could be scary to someone afraid of bugs, though, and his neighbor seemed quite the fearful man. Geralt gently scoops up the spider, walks past his neighbor, and deposits it outside. He comes back and proudly announced the 'terrifying giant arachnid' has been removed from the premises. His neighbor squeals in delight and hugs him. "Oh thank you, Geralt! Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! My knight in shining armor!" His neighbor blows him a kiss before walking back into his now-spiderless-flat and disappears as the door shuts. Geralt hopes he isn't evil for hoping there'll be another spider he can remove for the beautiful man sometime soon.

[themeraldee]

Ok but like… Homelander falling for a farmer girl who owns a milk farm

You're making me think of all the romcoms where a city girl visits a farm or some countryside, stumbling upon a sexy hunk of a man that obvi she falls in love with. So like, can we do that in reverse? 😂

Part of me even thinks it would be funny if this was genuinely a movie Vought was producing, thought I doubt they'd dabble into anything that isn't a superhero action flick. But how better to make his female fanbase get even more obsessed than by giving them all the mushy romcom content their hearts desire?

But beyond the romcom movie scenario this is making me think of incognito Homie who's sneaking away to steal some time from his favourite farmer girl who always greets him with a fresh glass of milk.

I can imagine they were recording a commercial (like this). For you know, this. So obviously they want to present Homelander as this boots on the ground, hard-working, red-blooded American. So they have him shoot this commercial at an actual farm. And sure, she gets paid for the inconvenience to have them use her farm in the commercial but it's kind of grating how the rest of the farm hands are swooning and awing at him. Like come on guys, we still have work to do 😂

What Vought presented to be a quick shoot and some B-roll footage ends up taking a lot longer, making her job harder. She's being mouthy to them, telling them to wrap it up faster and it's not what was agreed. And now it's Homelander swooning over a strong-willed woman who's her own boss, unafraid to say her piece and get shit done!

So of course, she has 0 interest in him when he goes to talk to her after the shoot wraps up. She just politely says that it was nice to meet him and urges him to be on his merry way back. So obviously, he needs her to like him—just like everyone else does!

What starts of as Homelander being a nuisance, a pest that bothers her on daily basis for his own amusement as he watches her work turns into something to look forward to. Little chats with the world's most renowned superhero who has very little idea of how the real world actually operates and how people who don't work for him have meaningful full lives without being famous or super-abled.

She talks to him about how she doesn't really understand all this superhero stuff and how she really just cares about connecting with nature and the animals surrounding her. He doesn't care about the sentiment that much because how could not be in awe of what a marvel of nature he is! But at the same time, it's nice to talk to someone who isn't mindlessly begging for his attention or asking him for favours or jobs.

She asks him to come dressed normally because she can't have anyone catching wind of Homelander visiting her farm in case it causes a surge of fans making the trip to her farm for the chance they might catch a sight of him which would most certainly just disturb her animals.

And look at that, I made up my own romcom after all 😂

[hide-in-imagination]

"Roads That Cross... with a Phone Call"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29), (30)

I only needed a solar eclipse to update! Yay!

--------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Simón left two more marks on Ámbar’s chest.

It was during lunchtime, which was rare because, usually, after a night like that, they didn’t need to satiate any more urges so soon after. But the pause in activity had been felt by both of them, and now that they could do it again, they didn’t seem to want to wait at all.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” Ámbar breathed between kisses and hurried hands, yanking off his clothes with the same urgency as her tone of voice. “I can’t concentrate on anything.”

Simón groaned and held her against his body, and then he gave her what she wanted and fucked her into the mattress.

There was something so satisfying about reducing such a strong force of nature like Ámbar into a gasping, whining mess with just a few bucks of his hips. She always had a witty comeback at the ready, an ironic comment aimed at whoever talked to her, but when she was like this, with him, she felt so much that Simón could leave her speaking in tongues.

It filled him with pride. It incited him to give more.

After, when they were dressing back up to grab something to eat (Simón shouldn’t have unraveled her for as long as he did, now they’d have to eat fast if they didn’t want to go over their lunch hour, but he’d missed this) Ámbar saw the new hickeys on her breasts and laughed, saying she didn’t know he had this side of him.

Honestly, Simón didn’t know either. It took seeing Ámbar wearing nothing but his shirt for him to realize just how much he liked it, and he couldn’t deny the surge of primal satisfaction upon seeing the marks on Ámbar’s breasts and neck. It looked sexy. She looked his.

Luckily, Ámbar said she didn’t mind, as long as they were few and nowhere visible, and as long as he allowed her to mark him too. Simón had no issue with that. In fact, part of him wanted her to leave the most obvious love bite on his neck and then have her show her own ones too just so he could flaunt them in front of Benicio like— See? We’re very happy together, stop being a pest.

But that would be petty of him, and he would feel bad using Ámbar like that, as if she were an object he wanted to show off. He felt a little disgusting just for thinking about it, so Simón pushed the urge down, down, down, until he could barely feel it at all. Besides, his imagination-self was way more shameless than he actually was. If Simón really walked around with a hickey on his neck, he’d die of embarrassment.

There was nothing to prove anyway. Benicio could’ve been bluffing when he spoke about that spot on Ámbar’s neck—A lucky guess. But even if he wasn’t, it didn’t matter. Ámbar chose Simón. Perhaps they’d been seeing each other less than usual the past few days, but every morning without fail they had breakfast together, and when the time came for Simón to leave, instead of saying goodbye, they always said: ‘I love you.’

“Have a nice day, I love you.”

“See you later, I love you.”

“I’m running late, gotta go, love you.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. That was the one thing important.

Throughout the next few days, they saw each other a little more actually, which came as a pleasant surprise to Simón. A couple of official, Manager things required Ámbar’s presence in the Roller, starting with the arrival of the new hires Ámbar had been requesting from Vidia for a while. They were three part-timers who would be taking over the weekends from now on so that Pedro, Eric, and Simón himself, could rest: two girls who would be in charge of the cafeteria, Cata (or Cat for short) and Rae, and one guy who would be the rink assistant and in charge of the lockers, called Alex.   

Ámbar introduced them all personally on their first day of training. She told the girls and Alex that Eric, Pedro, and Simón would be in charge of showing them the ropes around the Roller, while she also managed to, somehow, slip into conversation, twice, that both Simón and Pedro were in a committed relationship. Very much taken. Not single.

She said it all with a smile and it was very smooth, but Simón still had a hard time refraining from laughing. Personally, he didn’t think it was necessary to point that out considering they would only be training the girls for a couple of days and then they’d never see them again unless they visited the Roller in their free time, but Ámbar apparently still felt the need to draw that line in the sand.

To be honest, it made Simón feel pretty good. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one with a bit of a territorial streak in the relationship.

The second reason Ámbar started visiting the Roller more was to personally supervise the last few arrangements for the Day of the Dead party. There were some led light signs that needed to be installed on the walls, spotlights for the ceiling and stuff like that, so Ámbar had to be there to give directions to the handymen responsible for it. Some decorations had to be done by hand too, and while Ámbar could make some of them at home, oftentimes it was more practical to just do them at the Roller.

Simón was happy to see Ámbar more, no matter how briefly. When she first started working on the decorations, he offered to help, but she told him to just worry about his own work, that she got it covered. Simón still helped her bring a table to the rink, one wide enough for her to put all of the materials on top of it and work on her crafts comfortably, and also carried any bags she needed to move from one place to another— There was no way he’d let her do all of that herself when he had a good pair of arms.

On a good day, they walked back home after work together like they used to, Ámbar’s hand in his, her snuggling up to his side to fend off the cold.

“How do you think the new guys have been adapting to the Roller?” Ámbar asked him conversationally, turning to look at him. “I mean, I asked them, obviously, they said they were fine, but with me being the manager maybe they don’t feel as comfortable talking to me as they do with you.”

Simón smiled. People could say whatever they wanted about Ámbar, but she was actually thoughtful, and ever since she’d become manager of the Roller, she’d been doing a great job at it. He would already put her leaguesover La Generala.

“They’ve been doing great,” he replied. “Alex is amazing at rollerskating, which is very lucky because that was the only thing Eric couldn’t teach him.” The two laughed at that. “The rest, he’d been picking it up nicely. Same thing with the girls. They both had experience working at places like this before, so it’s been easy for them to get the hand of making the beverages and working the register…”

“Oh that’s right, didn’t they both work at a coffee shop before this?” It must have been on their resumes, or maybe Ámbar talked about it with them when they met, before she introduced them to everyone. “Not like the same coffee shop but, you know.”

“Yeah.” Rae and Cat had told him that too. “Actually, I think they bonded over that and they’re starting to become friends.”

“That’s good.” Ámbar smiled. She looked to the side. “As long as they don’t get too distracted and do their job, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Simón laughed. Yeah, the boss position fit her well. Maybe she wouldn’t work at the Roller forever, but he could totally see her leading, with good ideas and consideration. “You know, I actually worked at a coffee shop too,” he mentioned.

Her eyes focused on him with a curious glint. “Really?”

“Yeah, back when I was sixteen. Then I started at Foodger Wheels when I turned 17. Then when Luna turned 16, she joined me at Foodger Wheels, and, well, you know the rest of the story.”

Ámbar leaned her head back a little, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know you worked at Foodger Wheels too,” she said with disbelief. “So, that means that day it could’ve been you delivering my food instead of Luna?”

“Oh.” It was Simón’s turn to be surprised. “I had never thought of that— You’re right.” He huffed out a laugh. “How crazy.” He looked to the city in front of him, imagining how that could’ve been. “Do you think anything would’ve turned out different if it had been me instead of Luna?” He asked Ámbar.

“Well, maybe it would’ve helped to get me into your good graces if you hadn’t first known me as the girl who threw your best friend into the pool,” she said.

Simón burst out a laugh. “Oh my god, I had forgotten about that.” It seemed like a lifetime ago.

His gaze centered on Ámbar and his heart melted at how far they’d come since then. He brought their joined hands over her head and wrapped his arm around her in a fluid movement they had done dozens of times.

“Maybe I would’ve fallen irrevocably in love with you at first sight and never even questioned my friendship with Luna,” he told her, smiling down at her.  

Ámbar’s lips ticked in that way that meant she was holding back from smiling. “I mean, I am that pretty,” she agreed, making him laugh and place a kiss on her temple. Ámbar’s giggle finally broke free after that. “But I think just knowing I had a boyfriend you would’ve forgotten about me,” she said. “Too much of a mess. I can’t see you wanting to get in the middle of that.”

Right, back then Ámbar and Matteo had been dating for a while. They were the ‘it couple’ of the Roller. If Simón had fallen for Ámbar back then, he surely would’ve had a very bad time, kind of like Luna did when she was falling for Matteo.

It certainly wasn’t a position he would’ve liked to be in. But Ámbar was wrong in thinking he could’ve just forgotten about her so easily. Simón hadn’t been able to do that ever since last year, ever since he first started falling in love with her. He couldn’t imagine how he’d manage to do so.  

“Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t fall for me back then,” Ámbar said, looking to the front. “I would have not treated you right.”

She tried to make it sound funny but he could catch the self-deprecating edge in her voice. Her gaze lowered to her feet. “Well.” Her voice turned shyer. “Even now I’m not sure if I’m doing so great.”

Gently, Simón brought them to a stop. “Hey.” He squeezed her softly against his side, and when she turned to face him, he smiled at her lovingly. “You make me very happy. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Ámbar looked between his eyes and then her mouth curled into a smile, just as loving. “I love you.”

Simón gave her a short kiss. “I love you too.”

That was the one thing that mattered.

*********************

Another day, another 300 decorations Ámbar had to do.

She left the house that morning with Simón, choosing to work in the Roller that day. She had a box of unfinished flower garlands in her room, but she had many masks and posters at the Roller that she had started to paint and she wanted to finish those first, before anything happened to them and the paint smeared and she had to do them all over again.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she’d be doing all this craftmanship, ever, Ámbar would have either laughed very loudly or asked what millionaire sum they were paying her because there was no way she would do that otherwise.

As it turned out, some people were worth more than any sum of money, and Ámbar would personally paint hundreds of skull decorations if it meant making Simón happy. In fact, it wasn’t so bad. The artistry was rather relaxing if she just focused on the task at hand and didn’t think about how many other little trinkets she had to finish before the big day.

Maybe she would have to ask for help after all. Especially considering these were all decorations for a tradition she had never celebrated, meaning she wasn’t even sure if she was doing them correctly.

In a moment of distraction, she accidentally bumped one of the paint bottles with her arm, tipping it over and causing its contents to start dripping over the table.

“Shit.”

Ámbar hurried to pick up the bottle and place it straight on the table again. She reached for her purse and pulled out the pack of tissues she always carried with her to wipe off the damage. Thankfully, she was quick enough that the paint didn’t spread too much, so the decorations were safe and she didn’t stain the rink either. The same thing couldn’t be said about her fingers though. She hadn’t really thought about that in her hurry to protect all her precious hours of work.

The tissues helped with most of it but she couldn’t get all of the paint off her skin. Ámbar didn’t want to risk staining the decorations with her fingers, so she left the rink and walked toward the dressing room. A make-up remover wipe would definitely do the trick.

It didn’t occur to her to knock because she didn’t expect anyone to be there when she pulled the door open.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to find Delfi and Pedro making out when she did.  

The couple sprung apart instantly when they heard her come in and whirled around to find Ámbar at the door. They stood there frozen, their backs to the mirrors and their wide eyes fixed on her as growing embarrassment flooded their features.

Ámbar maintained a poker face, staring back in complete silence.

Her eyes centered on Pedro.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he blabbered hastily.

She arched a brow.

“I mean, it is, but it’s not— I’m— I only took a short break, all the tables already have their food, I’m waiting— Please don’t fire me.”

Pedro, as it seemed, gave up on trying to salvage the situation and just begged.

Ámbar kept her voice and gaze even. “Pedro.”

“Yes.”

“Get back to work.”

The boy nodded energetically. “Yes. Of course, Ámbar. Right away.”

With his head down, Pedro sped out of the room as if his life depended on it. The door closed behind his back and Ámbar and Delfi were left alone. Their eyes found each other, and they kept each other’s gaze for a long second.

Ámbar couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.  

Delfi still looked embarrassed but she started laughing too, catching it from Ámbar, and just like that, all the previous tension totally vanished.

“Oh my god, you should’ve seen your faces—I should’ve taken a picture!” Ámbar rejoiced. It had been priceless. “I see you two totally made up from your fight,” she said to Delfi, giving her a teasing smirk. “As a person, I love it, but as the manager of this place, I need to make sure that kissing is the only thing you two have done in here.”  

Delfi blushed furiously. “Of course! Are you insane? I would never do more right here in public!”

Ámbar laughed at her flustered state and raised her hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, it was just a question.” She let her hands drop. Her smile turned more genuine. “Good for you though. You both seem happy.”

Delfi smiled with that distinctive softness pertaining to being in love. “We are. Very much.” Then, either for the sake of being polite or maybe to draw attention elsewhere, she brought the topic around to Ámbar. “How about you? How are things going with Simón?”

Well, we don’t secretly make out at the Roller, but we do much worse at the mansion when no one’s around. Or should I say better?

“Mmm, you know how couples sometimes watch TV shows together?” Ámbar said instead of that— Too much information. Delfi nodded. “Well, my boyfriend is making me watch all Marvel movies in chronological order,” she shared flatly. There truly was a lot of time for leisure when one got their period— Who would’ve thought?

“Hey, at least those are entertaining,” Delfi said. “My cinema teachers at my university make us watch 3-hour-long, black-and-white films in which nothing happens— And they swoon like it’s the best thing ever!” She complained with disbelief. 

Ámbar grimaced. “That sounds awful.”

“It is. How I wish I could be staring at Chris Evans’ back instead.”

“Oh yeah, nice view,” Ámbar had to agree. “He’s not my favorite though— Too goody-goody.”

“Says the girl that’s dating Simón.”

Ámbar gave her a dry look. 

“Is it Thor then?” Delfi asked curiously. “Chris Hemsworth is hot too. Or Antman. He’s dorky; maybe it reminds you of Simón.”

“Why does it have to be like Simón?” Ámbar protested, and kept talking before Delfi could make another joke at her expense. “For your information, my favorite’s Iron Man. He gets so much shit for being— What? Proud? He’s the smartest man alive and a multimillionaire— He has reasons to be proud. If I were him, I wouldn’t even help those idiots; fend for yourselves.”

“It’s cute the mentor-like relationship he has with Spiderman though,” Delfi said, and immediately started breaking down. “Oh my god, when I watched Infinity War, you have no idea how much I—”

“Ssshh! Don’t tell me, we haven’t gotten to that one yet,” Ámbar stopped her, raising her hands.

Delfi’s brows ticked up. A teasing smile formed on her lips. “Ah, so you do like them.”

Ámbar shrugged and focused her attention on pulling some nonexistent lint out from her sweater. “I like that Simón likes them.”

When she looked up, Delfi’s smile had grown into a shit-eating grin.

Feeling a surge of embarrassment, Ámbar straightened her back and hid it behind a scoff.

“Why am I still talking to you?” She moved toward the mirrors. “I came here to do something much more important, and I have plenty more important things to do. If you’ll excuse me.”

Ámbar sat in front of one of the mirrors and rummaged through the drawers until she found a package of makeup remover wipes.

As she pulled one out, she caught Delfi’s reflection on her peripheral vision, staring at her. “You know, you really are different now,” she commented.  

Ámbar glanced at her through the mirror before refocusing on wiping her hands. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Delfi said light-heartedly. “I like this Ámbar better. Less bossy and easier to tease.”

Ámbar sent her a look, but the small curl to her lips betrayed she wasn’t entirely mad at this playful dynamic. It felt nice to just have some unserious conversation with someone once in a while— other than her boyfriend, obviously.

She had just finished cleaning her fingers when Delfi spoke once more.  

“Jazmín told me you apologized to her the other day.”

Ámbar tried not to show her disappointment at losing the levity of the conversation so quickly. Peaceful moments never lasted very long for her. It seemed like something always had to remind her of her old transgressions (or her current ones, which she refused to think about.)

She dropped the used wipe into the trashcan next to her and replied with tranquility. “It was the right thing to do.”

She could’ve left it at that, but given the opportunity, Ámbar turned around in the chair to look at Delfi directly. “But I’m not expecting you two to go back to being my minions or anything, don’t worry,” she clarified. “I’m just slowly, little by little, tying up loose ends.” It was all she could do.

She couldn’t go back in time and change the things she did. All she could do was apologize, and be better in the future. Before, her concept of ‘better’ only meant succeeding in all aspects of her life, no matter the cost. Now, she understood all the damage she had inflicted, onto others and herself, for thinking that way.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t like to be your minion again,” Delfi said, with clear disdain forthat idea. No one would want to be in that position, Ámbar thought with some guilt.

A playful expression showed up on Delfi’s face. “But maaaybe I could be your friend.”

Ámbar had to do a double-take. She stared at Delfi, trying to discern if she was only making a joke, but she looked sincere. Something warm and bright fluttered weakly in Ámbar’s chest— Hope.

“Really?”

Delfi showed her a small smile. “I think you’ve really changed. And, if we ignore all the awful things, we did have some very good moments throughout all those years of friendship. Plus,” she added with that playful lilt again, “I’ve noticed that the only people you talk to lately are either Simón, Ramiro, or the rest of the guys that live at your house— I think you’re in desperate need of a girl view.”

The fluttering was no longer a tentative thing but the mighty upward flight of a bird through the sky. A smile grew on Ámbar’s lips and she rose from her chair, hesitating only for a moment before going for a hug, and to her utter relief, Delfi hugged her back, just like in the old days, but better.

“Thank you,” Ámbar told her over her shoulder, eyes closed to capture this moment, this proof that not all her bridges were burned.

She could hear Delfi’s smile in her voice as she answered. “You’re welcome, girl.” 

****************

The raucous of many voices talking and laughing all at the same time permeated the locker room as the Roller Team tied up their rollerskates for another training session.

There weren’t enough benches in the place, so everyone took turns to put their skates on. Simón had been the first one to enter the lockers, so he gave his spot over to Jim and was then the first to slide out.

He was excited about rollerskating, of course, but the truth was that his main motivation to arrive before everyone else was the dazzling blonde standing on one corner of the rink, surrounded by an assortment of flowers and skull decorations in different colors, almost as vibrant as her, but not quite.

Ámbar heard him roll near, so she spun on her feet, and a smile blossomed on her lips when she saw it was him. Simón felt his heart do a happy dance and thought of how lucky he was to have her, not for the first time. Having the person you love love you back had to be the most magical thing anyone could ever experience. Having said person also throw a party for you just to gift you a little piece of home had to be a bonus not many received, and one Simón was incredibly grateful for.

Sure, their relationship wasn’t perfect— not by a long shot. There were a lot of things that worried him. Things he wished that could be better. But in the quiet moments, Simón was simply in awe of just how in love he was with this girl.

“You’re kidding,” Ámbar said with a happy sparkle in her eyes. “I was just about to call you, how did you know?”

If he hadn’t been already, that would’ve made Simón smile. “I don’t know, I guess we’re connected.” At least I’d like to think we are.

He pointed down to his skates. “Also, it’s time for our training session.”

Ámbar’s eyes widened. “Oh, is it that time already?” She checked her phone and, upon confirming this, pocketed it quickly. “Sorry, time flew by. Before I go, real quick— I changed my mind.” She looked at him with a slightly chagrined expression. “Could you help me with all of this? I’m sure you know a hell lot more than I do and—” The rest of the guys started filling the rink right that second. Ámbar looked behind Simón and called out to them. “Please stay clear of this corner!” She gestured to her table. “I’m working on all this stuff and I wouldn’t want them to tear or anything.”

His friends made different sounds of agreement. Simón turned to face Ámbar again. “Sure, I’ll help you with the decorations, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m just kinda lost with all these skeletons and things.”

“Well, you don’t have to fret anymore because the bestMexican boyfriend in the world has at least a million ideas for you,” Simón declared playfully.

Ámbar’s brows ticked up with interest. “Really? A million ideas? Well, I sure have to find him now and get him to help me. You know where I can find him?”

Simón placed one hand on the table behind her and leaned in closer, answering her little smirk with one of his own. “Well…”

Juliana clapped her hands loudly from the middle of the rink. “Alright, alright! Time for practice!”

“Yeah, let each other breathe for a moment, you guys!” Matteo yelled at them. 

Simón pulled away from Ámbar and looked at the other boy. “Envy is bad for you, Matteo!”

The rest of his friends started to tease Matteo. Simón turned back to his girlfriend with a smile. “See you at the mansion?”

Ámbar nodded. Simón gave her one quick peck before skating away to join his team with the initial warmups. He watched from afar as Ámbar walked away from the rink.

Simón wished she didn’t have to. He missed having Ámbar as his skating partner, the days when she was on the team and they were all friends. He knew that a lot had happened, and Ámbar had only stopped being a Red Shark some time ago, so it wasn’t as easy as just inviting her back, but he wished he could. He didn’t know how everyone would react if he did though. He’d like to believe they wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but that wasn’t the same as liking the idea, and Simón would hate himself if he put Ámbar through an uncomfortable situation like that. He didn’t want there to be a them with her just existingon the sidelines. (Although he understood that it was her who first created that divide.)

In summary, he just had to be patient, as with all things Ámbar-related.

That was fine by him. After all, he was convinced that she was worth it.

----------------

Hours later, after everyone had already had dinner and the oldest went to sleep, Simón found himself with the guys in the storage room. They’d been showing Matteo some new songs they had created for the Roller Band, and he even helped them finish some of them, coming up with some brilliant ideas that made Simón and Pedro’s eyes sparkle and their hands play the instruments more enthusiastically.

(Simón refrained, once again, from just asking him if he wanted to be part of the band. While he would love that, Matteo had his solo career dreams, and that was totally okay— Simón wouldn’t want him to accept just out of a sense of comradery for them, or pity, and then regret it later.)

Now, after all of that, it had gotten late (and Simón had some arms to return to), so Pedro had risen from his seat behind the drums, and Matteo and Simón were putting their guitars away, disconnecting cables, and all that stuff.

It was just the usual until Matteo made a joke about how “If you wanted to, you guys could be a Christian Rock duo and call yourselves ‘The Apostles’, what with those names you’ve got” and Simón rolled his eyes.

He was about to point out how ‘Matteo’ was also an apostle’s name when Pedro jolted suddenly and grabbed Matteo’s shoulder.

“There! Did you see that? I told you!” Pedro exclaimed, amused, and pointing at Simón for some reason.

Matteo let out a laugh, joining Pedro’s amusement. “Oh my god, you were right!”

Simón looked at them a little self-consciously. “What? What is it?”

Pedro looked at him with a teasing smile. “Ámbar’s rubbing off on you, man. You roll your eyes just like her now.”   

Simón wrinkled his brows, bemused.

“Doesn’t everyone roll their eyes sometimes?”  

“Not like that they don’t,” Matteo countered. He pointed at him. “That is a registered trademark of Ámbar Smith.” 

Even though they were making fun of him, the notion made Simón feel all warm inside.

A little laugh escaped his lips. “Well, maybe. I mean, we spend a lot of time together.”

“We know,” Pedro said dryly.

“Yeah, you smell like flowers now, dude,” Matteo said, “I think everyone knows.”

“Actually, I’m surprised Luna’s dad hasn’t told you anything yet,” Pedro said.

“I think he’s pretending not to notice for the sake of his mental health,” Matteo theorized.

Simón frowned a little. He knew he was bound to smell a little like Ámbar when they started sharing bathroom products, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable— He still used his own deodorant and wore cologne some days. He tried bringing his arm up to his nose to see if he could catch a whiff of ‘flowers’, as his friends said, on his skin, but of course, it being his own body, he couldn’t really smell anything because his nose was used to it.

“Maybe I should start using my own products,” Simón thought out loud. He liked knowing he smelled a little like Ámbar (it felt like they were married, which was silly and insane, of course, therefore that thought only lived in the most profound level of his subconscious) but maybe parading around that they shared the same shower when he was supposed to have his own room wasn’t the best idea.

“I mean, considering whatever Ámbar uses is probably more expensive than what you earn in a whole week, yeah, maybe,” Matteo said.

Oh. He… hadn’t thought about that. 

“Anyway, we were talking about your new music career,” Matteo continued. “Should I help you two replace all mentions of ‘girls’ in your songs with ‘Jesus’?”

Simón and Pedro laughed out loud.

“Absolutely not.”

*************************

Ámbar was about to change into her pajamas and get into bed when she realized she couldn’t find her Scotch tape anywhere.

It wasn’t like it was a terrible thing. She could easily buy another one. But she liked to be organized, so she decided to go downstairs and check the living room in case she’d dropped it when she was working on the decorations earlier. If it wasn’t there, then she’d consider it lost and buy another one, because she was sure she still had it at the Roller.

Ámbar walked through the hallways and down the stairs trying to make as little noise as possible in case someone was already sleeping. The lights were off in the living room, but there was enough light coming from the garden lighting outside that it wasn’t hard to see. It wasn’t enough to find a tiny clear tape on the carpet though, so Ámbar turned on a table lamp, and when that wasn’t enough, pulled out her phone and used its flashlight as well.

Finally, she found the little roll of tape underneath the sofa. She must have kicked it under there by mistake earlier. She put it in her pants pocket, and she had just turned off the flashlight on her phone when the device started ringing, startling her a little.

It was the loud sound against the otherwise silent house, the lightning panic of ‘shoot, I’m going to wake up someone’ that reflectively crossed her mind. She would’ve gotten over it as quickly as it happened if it had been any other number calling her on the phone. But as she read the caller’s ID, Ámbar’s nervousness didn’t settle down— It was heightened.  

‘Vanessa’

Maybe it was the suddenness of it— That she took her by surprise. Maybe it was her brain urging her to quiet the noise as soon as possible. Maybe it was the mix of curiosity and worry at having her godmother call her at this hour. Maybe, under different circumstances, Ámbar would’ve thought about it twice before answering the call.

But the fact of the matter was, she did.  

“Hello?”

“Ámbar.” Sharon’s voice came through with its usual mix of impassiveness and undercurrent firmness. “I hope you’ve gotten over your little tantrum because I need your help. It’s important.”

The ball of anxiety grew in Ámbar’s chest, along with confusion. “My help? With what?”

“I need to get inside the mansion,” Sharon said without preamble. “I can take care of the guards at the entrance, but I need you to make sure that no one crosses my path while I go in and out of my room. I’ll go at night, when it’s less likely someone will see me.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Get inside the mansion— Are you insane?” Her voice almost rose for a moment and Ámbar had to remind herself to keep speaking quietly. If anyone heard her, it would be incredibly bad— But what her godmother was saying was even worse. “Wasn’t it enough with last time?” She demanded with outrage. “I thought you had understood that it’s not a good idea— You’re going to get caught.”

“Not if I have a good lookout, which is why I need you. You’re the only one I can trust, Ámbar.”

Ámbar shook her head. That was always Sharon’s technique— Try and pull at Ámbar’s heartstrings when she needed something from her. But Ámbar had done this dance too many times. She knew how it ended.

“No,” she replied, firmly. “I am not going to help you. Why are you even asking me? Ask Rey or Maggie—they are your little toy soldiers, don’t pull me into your crazy ideas.” I have too much to lose.  

The mild softness in Sharon’s voice vanished as fast as it had appeared. “Rey got me the key for the chest four days ago, but since then, he’s been reluctant to cooperate with me and I can’t enter the house without help from the inside, it’s too risky,” she explained with evident frustration. “It must be Maggie’s influence, no doubt. That woman only causes trouble.”

Good job, Maggie, Ámbar thought with some relief.  

“Or maybe Rey doesn’t want to help you because he knows as well as I do that this is a bad idea,” she emphasized. “What even is in that chest that you want it so much?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Sharon retorted immediately. “Just help me get inside to retrieve what’s mine and I promise that I won’t step on that house again. Not until I have gotten rid of those pests who took it from me in the first place, of course,” she added.

Ámbar closed her eyes. How could she not see? No one took anything from her— She was the one who alienated herself from her family for trying to hide the truth. Was accepting the reality that Luna was the heir to the Benson fortune so impossible for her that she was willing to destroy everything in order to avoid it? Destroy herself?

“You need to stop this, godmother.” Ámbar tried to infuse strength into her words but her emotions filtered in, making it sound like begging. “What you’re doing is wrong. Not only is it wrong, it’s dangerous— I’m worried that something might happen to you. Please stop this before it’s too late.”

“If it really worried you that much, you would help me,” Sharon said. “The sooner I get what I want, the sooner all of this will be over— You know that, Ámbar.”

“The Valente don’t deserve this,” Ámbar said. “They’re good people. And if you don’t want to think about them, think about Grandpa— He is your father. He almost had a heart attack the last time something happened, imagine if something terrible happened to him— Would you really be able to live with that?”

“My father made his own decisions, including siding with those newcomers who took everything from us, so whatever happens to him will be exclusively his responsibility.”

Ámbar shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” Was she really that far gone? Did she not care about anything?

Am I wasting my time? Ámbar thought with sudden, terrifying despair. Is there no way to fix this?

“I’m very serious,” Sharon declared. “So think very carefully if you want to keep siding with that family.”

Ámbar swallowed a groan of frustration. “You don’t understand, it’s not about sides. I just want—”

The sound of footsteps coming from behind her made Ámbar’s heart jump to her throat.

Rapidly, she hung up and turned around, trying to not seem too suspicious.

The fist in her chest tightened when she saw it was Simón who had come in through the kitchen door— out of all possible people— and, judging by the curious look he was casting her way, he had definitely caught her talking on the phone.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

“I thought you’d be in bed,” he said. “Why did you hang up so fast? Who was it?”

Ámbar tried to think through the buzz of panic in her head. “Yeah, um, I forgot something down here so I came to find it,” she said. Her mouth felt dry. “I did, so, it’s all good.”

Simón made a noise of understanding but the wrinkle between his brows remained. “And the call?”

“No one,” Ámbar responded instinctively. Fuck, she was so stupid— of course it couldn’t be no one! “I mean, no one as in nothing important, don’t mind it,” she tried to dismiss it.

Simón let out a laugh. “If you really told me you were talking to no one, I would be worried that you’ve been stuck inside this house so long it has started to affect you and you hear voices now,” he joked. 

Ámbar forced a weak laugh out of her in response. “Yeah, no, it was… Emilia,” she came up with. “She was just calling to annoy me, so I cut her off. But it was nothing, really.”

The amusement left Simón’s expression and he became serious. “Do you want me to talk to her?” He offered. “I’ll talk to her,” he decided before she could speak. “It’s not fair that she’s harassing you after they kicked you off the team. What does she think she’s doing?”

Ámbar’s eyes widened slightly. “Nonono, leave it, really, I can handle her,” she assured him, trying to seem as unbothered as possible while fear gripped her senses. “It’s not like it bothers me anyway, it’s her time she’s wasting, not mine.”

“You sure?”  

Ámbar nodded immediately, eager to put the topic to rest. Simón, too good to just let it go, walked toward her with a slightly saddened expression and held her hands in his. “We shouldn’t have even invited her to sing with us at the Roller Jam,” he said with some bite. “I know why you suggested it, but if she’s still bothering you even after you tried to do something nice for her, then she’s not worth it.”

He was so aggrieved for her sake and it only made Ámbar feel worse. He only wanted her to be treated fairly, kindly— He wanted to defend her from what could bring her harm. And in the meantime, what was she doing? Sinking in a sea of lies and drowning others with her in order to maintain them.

I’m the harm and he doesn’t know it.

“I just thought it was fair. And who knows? Maybe she just needs time,” she attempted to defend Emilia in order to salvage her conscience. “But whatever— I don’t have time to think about Emilia or anything of the sort, it really doesn’t matter,” she said fast and dismissively. She squeezed his hands and smiled. “Let’s just go upstairs, okay?”

Ámbar turned off the lamp and they went up to her room hand in hand. The darkness gave her an excuse to not look him in the face.  

The warmth of Simón’s hand felt suffocating against her own, as if it burned her skin— holy water on the worst sinner. Ámbar felt disgusting. She didn’t deserve this hand.

But she was not going to let it go. She held it tighter. She held him tighter.  

She was not letting Simón go.

Ever.

******************

The next morning, Ámbar woke up before him, as she usually did, but Simón convinced her to stay in bed and sleep some more. They’d had a long night last night (Ámbar had been inspired, running her hands and mouth all over his body, and he had no desire to say no) but more than that, she’d been visibly tired lately with all the preparations for the Roller Jam, and she deserved the rest.

“It won’t kill you to sleep in one day; take the morning off.”

His stubborn girl was still propping herself up and rubbing at her eyes, trying to wake up even though she was clearly exhausted. “I can’t do that, I’m supposed to be working.”

“I won’t tell Vidia if you won’t.”

Ámbar gave him a disapproving look and pouted, and she looked absolutely adorable with her disheveled hair and sleepy eyes.

Simón kissed her pout. “Seriously, just sleep two more hours, it’ll be okay.”

Ámbar closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow. “Mmm, but I like having breakfast with you,” she murmured.

Simón smiled and tucked some hair away from her face. “Me too. So, sleep so that we can do that tomorrow.”

Ámbar hummed again and snuggled under the covers. There might have been an ‘okay’ there somewhere but it was too muffled and sleepy to tell.

Simón leaned down to drop a kiss on the top of her head before getting up. “I love you.”

“Luv u,” Ámbar mumbled, and by the time Simón walked out of the room, she was out like a light.

The rest of Simón’s morning went on as normal, with him walking to the Roller with Pedro, starting his workday, and supervising the new part-timers while they learned the ropes in the cafeteria.

The first few days of this last activity had felt like double work for Simón and Pedro because they had to train the new girls in addition to keeping up with all their usual duties, so it was a lot. Alex, the new rink assistant, had been easier: He already had rollerskating experience, so all they had to do was show him how the rental system in the lockers worked and teach him about safety precautions in the rink and what to do in case of any accidents— stuff like that. Eric, being the full-time rink assistant, took over most of his training, so Simón and Pedro only had to worry about the cafeteria.

‘Only’ was an understatement, of course— It was the hardest part. But by now, Cata and Rae had gotten a pretty good hang of things— Simón hadn’t lied when he said to Ámbar that they learned things quickly— so he felt way more at ease. Actually, he hadn’t felt this relaxed while working since the days when Nico was still with them. Four people worked better than two, after all. He would miss the girls once they started working on their own on the weekends, and he was sure Pedro shared the sentiment, but in exchange for that, they’d finally get to have their weekends free like the rest of the world, so really, they couldn’t complain.

He brought two hamburgers over to table 4 and then there was a small lull in activity as all the customers enjoyed their food and joyful conversation. Simón took the opportunity to go to the lockers and see how Eric and Alex were doing. Just as a friendly visit, mostly, but if he was being honest, he did have another agenda.  

He’d been thinking for the past few days how great it’d be if Alex happened to play an instrument and wanted to join the Roller Band. Simón didn’t want to get his hopes up, but they could finally be a band again! Alex seemed like a very nice guy from the interactions Simón’d had with him until now, and Eric felt comfortable around him, which said a lot because he was usually nervous around new people, so really, what was there to lose in asking?

Unfortunately, when the three of them got talking and Simón subtly brought the topic up, he came to find out that, while Alex loved music, he had absolutely no ability for it.

Simón hid the disappointment he felt. Of course finding a new member wasn’t going to be that easy. Looking at it objectively, it would have been an unbelievable stroke of luck if Alex turned out to be the solution to all their problems. Not because Simón got to the Roller and was a perfect fit for the band meant that everyone who arrived would be as well.

Maybe Eric could join if he weren’t so shy, Simón thought.He’d been great at Nico’s farewell party. But Simón wasn’t going to force him out of his shell just for his own gain.

The idea of the Christian Rock duo was starting to sound appealing.

They were still talking when someone else walked into the room. There was a minimal pause, almost imperceptible, as the three of them glanced to the side to check if it was someone in need of assistance, but it was just Emilia, who walked toward her locker without even looking at them.

Eric and Alex continued talking, but Simón didn’t. He stayed staring at Emilia, feeling a spark of anger flare inside of him as he remembered last night.

He simply couldn’t understand it. Ámbar was breaking her back organizing an event that everyone could enjoy, that she invited Emilia to participate in as an olive branch, and Emilia repaid that good faith by calling Ámbar just to mess with her? How could anyone be so ungrateful?

Simón couldn’t even be sure this was the first time something like this had happened. Ámbar had a tendency of wanting to deal with everything herself— The prime example of that being that she told Simón not to worry about it, that she could handle Emilia— So who knew how long this had been going on.

Emilia put her skates away and walked out of the lockers as quietly as she had come. Simón tightened his fists. Yes, Ámbar could deal with Emilia— Simón had no doubt that she could handle almost anything if she put her mind to it. But it wasn’t fair that this was happening, and Ámbar didn’t have todeal with everything alone— She had him now. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow something like this to keep happening without doing anything about it.

Simón said a quick bye to the guys and walked out right after her.

In the hallway, he threw a quick look around in search for Benicio, because wherever Emilia was, Benicio was always close by. Simón found him still at the rink, rollerskating by himself. Good. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with both at the same time.

Emilia was already crossing the front door by the time he brought his gaze back to her. Simón hurried after her, walked out of the Roller too, and stood in her path, causing her to stop.

“I need to speak with you.”

Emilia blinked, both in surprise and confusion. “With me? What, is there another event you want me to sing at?” She joked. “I’m very sorry but you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow—I gotta get to work.”  

She tried to pass by him but Simón blocked her way.

“No, it’s not about that. And you know what? If we had known this is what your response would be, we never would’ve invited you,” he spat her way. “I mean, Ámbar wanted to invite you as a kind gesture, she was trying to put an ending to all the fighting so you could be a part of something nice for once, and this is how you repay her? Calling her up just to annoy her? It isn’t enough for you to be so unfriendly to everyone in their presence, you had to bother her during her free time too?”

Emilia wrinkled her face. “What are you talking about?”

“Last night, when you called Ámbar on her cellphone to harass her,” Simón stated in no uncertain terms.

Emilia’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “I haven’t called your little girlfriend since she sucked face with you. She became a loser by association.”

“Don’t lie, Emilia. Ámbar told me.”

“I’m not lying,” Emilia protested. “Here, you wanna see?” She pulled out her phone and offered it to him. “Check my phone’s call history. You won’t find Ámbar’s name anywhere.”

Simón hesitated for a moment. Something inside him rose in alarm, not allowing him to move. He took the phone and tried to quiet it. Emilia was just pretending to be offended, that was all.   

She unlocked the phone right in front of his eyes, which again unnerved him due to the confidence of the gesture, but he carried on. He just had to prove she was lying. He tapped out of Instagram, the last app she’d been using, apparently, and went to the home page to find the Phone app. He went to the call history and started scrolling down. 

He checked the names, the dates on the list, checked again.

Nothing. Ámbar’s name was nowhere to be found.

It must have shown on his face, the way his stomach started coiling into knots, because he heard Emilia’s annoyed vindication. “See? I told you. I don’t even remember when was the last time I called Ámbar. It should show up there somewhere. Has it been a month maybe?”

She was just thinking out loud, unpreoccupied now that she’d been proven right. Meanwhile, Simón was struggling to keep his nervous system under control.

It can’t be.

It can’t be.  

“You could’ve deleted it,” he told her, looking up from the treacherous list on that stupid device.

Emilia, arms crossed in front of her chest, seemed unamused by the accusation. “Yeah, because I see the future and I knew you were going to want to see it,” she said ironically. She rolled her eyes. “Please, Simón, don’t fool yourself. Ámbar lied to you. And, I mean, why are you even surprised? It’s Ámbar. Lying is what she does best.”  

No.

It can’t be.

“Look,” Emilia deflated, uncrossing her arms and looking at him with something akin to pity, “from one Mexican to another, I think you should stay away from her. You’re too goody-goody, and Ámbar… well, there’s a reason why we used to be friends.”

A slight tremor was taking over Simón’s limbs. He couldn’t even look at Emilia. He couldn’t look at anyone.

“Now if you excuse me,” she took her phone from his hands, “I’m gonna go.” Emilia took a couple steps before stopping. “And tell your girlfriend that if she wants to do right by me or whatever then she shouldn’t go around sullying my name with false accusations.” She walked away. “See ya, Simón.” 

Even after she was long gone, Simón remained unmoving. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his ears.

Ámbar lied to me.

Ámbar lied to me.

He tried to slow down his breathing, swallow the pulse in his throat, but the pain in his chest didn’t go away.   

This couldn’t be. There had to be some explanation. There had to be.

Calm down. He could hardly hear his thoughts through the blaring of his heartbeat. It’s just a phone call. It’s not a big deal. This isn’t like last year. It isn’t—

But if it’s not a big deal, then why did she—?

Simón breathed in and out, hard.

All around him, his world started crumbling down.

…

..

.

[timeofjuly]

Resolutions

Note: Reader's POV of the New Year's Eve when they met Red. So sorry for the wait to the anon who requested this! As a warning, reader is very much in an altered state of mind due to drug use in this one, so proceed with caution.

Tags: Drug use, implied sexual content, angst, self-hatred.

Read it on AO3 or read it below :)

It’s New Year's Eve and you feel fucking fantastic.

You look hot. You feel hot, both in terms of your confidence in your appearance and the temperature; it’s sweltering in Izzy’s apartment. Too many people crammed into a too small space. It feels like there’s hands everywhere. Your skin is alight with warmth and touch, so many people close to you. They grow on you like vines, like weeds, like ivy, weaving ‘round and ‘round until you’re all bound together, one pulsing, living organism.

The music is so loud that it’s an almost palpable presence in the air; you can viscerally feel it filling your ears, pressing against your skin, pouring down your mouth when you open it to sing. It clings to you like plastic wrap as you dance, shaping your movements.

Sweat runs down your back and between your breasts. But you’re the hottest fucking thing in this room, right, so it just gives you a mysterious, sexy sheen, like you’re a fucking nymph or some shit, stepping out from behind a waterfall, batting your eyelashes at the Olympian raging to fuck you. You’re ready to be drowned in ambrosia. To choke on nectar. Swallow swallow swallow.

Fuck, your mouth is dry. Your tongue feels like sandpaper. Is this how cats feel, with their arid, pointysharp little tongues? You hope not, the poor things. This sucks.

“I need a drink,” you shout against the music, jaw clicking around the words, “anyone else want one?”

Izzy, your host, nods enthusiastically. She springs up from where she’d been dancing low to the floor and grasps your sweaty hand in her own cooler, scaly one. “I’ll come with you! I need a piss.”

You let her drag you from the throng of bodies into the bathroom, where you scroll on your phone as she sits down to pee. Your vision’s pleasantly blurry, but you manage to successfully reply to a few messages and send a few of your own. You then examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, mostly pleased with the way your hair falls, the way your makeup makes your eyes look dark and sultry. You apply a fresh coat of lipstick and smack your lips together, making faces at your reflection. The skin on your cheekbones stretches tightly, almost too-taunt, casting a sharp shadow.

For a moment, you don’t feel as pretty as you had before, but then your thirst returns with a vengeance, and you forget all about it. You stick your head in the sink, mouth poised and open beneath the tap, and drink deeply from the cool, refreshing water. Probably should’ve waited to do your lipstick, but ah well.

“You look like a horse,” Izzy snorts at you, hip-checking you to the side so that she can wash her hands. “When you said you wanted a drink, I thought you meant booze, bunny, not water.”

“A girl can want two things,” you say. Have enough and it all tastes the same, anyway.

Bunny is what this particular social circle likes to call you. You don’t really get it, but nicknames aren’t ever chosen by the person, are they, and it’s hardly the worst name in the world. You like bunnies, anyway. They’re cute. Fluffy, funny little things. They’re either pets or pests or lab animals, too, and somedays you feel like a mangled amalgamation of all three, so you guess it’s fitting.

Izzy washes and dries her hands and then does a line of coke off of the countertop. She offers you a bump, but you decline – tonight, you’re pacing yourself.

This year, you want to watch the time tick over to midnight, and you want to remember it. You’d gotten too fucked-up last year too early and had been out like a light by ten, so being awake and cognizant for this one is your resolution, or some shit. You don’t really do resolutions, but this one seems achievable enough. Stay up and ring in the New Year. Yeah, you can do that, you beautiful, gorgeous, magical creature. The world is ready to be bent to your whims. Midnight’s a piece of cake.

You follow Izzy back out into the party and to the kitchen, riffling through her fridge for a decent mixer. You end up pouring orange juice into two glasses, along with a healthy serve of tequila. If you had any grenadine on hand, you’d have yourself a proper sunrise.

You sit on the kitchen countertop to drink it, bare legs swinging lazily in the air. Izzy sits next to you, her hip pressed against your own. Her hand rests atop your thigh, drawing little patterns with the tip of her claw. The sensation makes ticklish goosebumps erupt all over your legs.

Your head is buzzing like it’s full of bees and it’s making your vision go a little funny. You blink a few times, then scan the apartment in an attempt to refocus your eyes. The party is still a writhing, pulsating mass, moving with the thrum of the music. Everyone looks so beautiful. You wish that you could live in this moment forever.

You know everyone – at least, you think you do – so you’re surprised when your eyes fall on someone you’ve never met before. He’s a monster, a skeleton monster, dressed in an oversized, dark jacket with a furry hood. He’s reclined on Izzy’s shitty sofa, looking easy and relaxed. His legs are spread wide, which you normally find obnoxious, but he’s really making it work for him. As you watch, he brings a bottle of something to his skull, and scarlet magic flickers to life inside of his mouth as he drinks. You watch, eyes wide.

The red of his magic looks hot – red-hot, you think, holding back a snort at your creativity. You knew someone, once, who would’ve had a far better, more eloquent, poetic way of describing it, but you’re refusing to think of her tonight. Even that tiny little reminder sends cold skittering through you, so you wrench your focus back to the guy and his magic. You wonder if it’s as warm as it looks. It looks like it’d heat you up from the outside-in.

That sounds amazing right now.

“Who’s that?” you say, transfixed. There’s an eager breathiness in your voice.

“What?” Izzy says, tapping the side of her head.

“Who is that?” you shout in Izzy’s ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. You gesture towards the sofa with your chin.

“He’s a friend of one of the birds, I think,” she says dismissively, “can’t remember his name right now.”

“He’s hot as fuck. Please tell me he’s single. It’ll ruin my whole year and the next ones if he’s not.”

She cackles. Her laughter takes up her whole face, splitting it down the middle like an axe wound to the head. You have the urge to shove your finger into her open mouth, but she probably won’t find it funny. She’d probably bite you, actually, with her sharp little teeth, and the Tylenol and antibiotics you’d get as a result are hardly worth the hospital trip. Now, if she took off your whole finger, you’d get oxycodone or hydromorphone at the very least, but they probably wouldn’t mix well with the rest of the pharmacy’s worth of drugs in your bloodstream.

And you’d also miss midnight. You can’t have that.

“You’re so funny, bunny,” Izzy giggles at you. She throws her arm around you and tugs you to her side. “I love you soooo much.”

You hug her back, pressing your face into the cool hollow of her neck. You choke on your muffled laughter. The hug feels really nice. “Love you too.”

You do, in this moment. You’re full of enough love that you’re afraid it’s all going to spill out of you, tear through your skin and flood the entire apartment. You love love. So much. Feels so good.

Izzy pulls back from the hug, then brings her own glass to your lips. You drink greedily. She doesn’t pull it away until you’ve drained the whole thing.

“Pretty sure he’s single, so go ring in the New Year the right way,” she says, pulling you from the countertop and giving you a friendly smack on the ass to spur you on.

Not that you need a lot of encouragement. You fix your sexiest smile to your face and do your best impression of a lingerie model’s saunter down the runway as you stride towards him, snagging a pair of shot glasses as you go.

…

Opening your eyes is a fucking ordeal.

The ceiling of Izzy’s darkened guest bedroom greets your dry, crusty vision. The fan on the ceiling spins in slow, lazy rotations, sending cool wafts of air over your bare body.

Your muscles ache, in a good way, as you pull yourself up into a sitting position, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look down at your chest and find it decorated with several pretty red marks and the memory of receiving them sends remembered pleasure shivering through you. You knew that the guy would be a great fuck; maybe you’ve just got a sixth sense for shit like this.

Speaking of the guy, he’s still asleep. Ha, you must’ve worn him out, just like he did to you. He’s lying on his back, skull turned to the side, so his face is half buried into the pillow. The sheets are kicked messily around his feet.

You watch the way his ribcage expands and contracts with his breathing. So strange, breathing with no lungs. What purpose does it serve? Does he have to do it, the way you do?

You imagine, for a moment, your own lungs, wet and pulpy and probably black with tar and pockmarked with holes, imagine them filling and deflating with air. You hold your breath until your vision goes fuzzy just to feel the way they strain against the confines of your chest. The burn reminds you that there’s something inside of you. Something warm and real.

You look back at your bedpartner, at all of that empty space inside of him. You wonder if he feels the hole as part of himself, if he walks and talks and eats and fucks, all the while perceiving that absence. You wonder if he feels like you do sometimes, like a discarded orange rind, all of your insides scooped out until just the smooth outside remains.

Something prickles at your eyes. You feel dizzy. A little sick.

You exhale in a deep, desperate rush, suddenly remembering that you have to breath. You take a few ragged inhales, deep ones, to make up for the oxygen you’d been deprived of.

Your chest hurts. Your head hurts, too, a dull throb. Either you’ve just accidently almost asphyxiated yourself, or it’s time for a top-up. The ecstasy’s probably worn off by now; that’s probably why you’re feeling this way. Yeah, that’s it. The comedown always sucks.

You have no other reason to be sad, after all. You sit here, freshly fucked, muscles aching pleasantly. The party downstairs still beats on, a riotous chorus of early two thousands throwback music and laughter. You can feel the thrum of the base in your blood. The world is alive around you. Revel in that. Be happy for that. This is your life. You chose it. You made it this way. You have to live it, now.

Yep, definitely time for a top-up. Izzy owes you; you can scum a little extra off of her. You don’t remember why she owes you, exactly, but a favour’s a favour. S’not like you to look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the goodness as it comes and let go of the bad. Breath in again. Breath out. Keep reminding yourself to do it, so you don’t forget.

You fumble underneath the pillows and retrieve your phone. The cracked screen reads 12:36am. You have a dozen unread messages, drunken New Years well-wishes from names you can’t put a face to.

Your mom and dad used to always stay up late on New Years Eve, drinking port wine and watching Christmas movies until they’d fall asleep on the couch together. It was their tradition. As a kid, you begged them to let you stay up with them, but you always fell asleep before the clock struck midnight and you’d wake up on January first in your bedroom, your dad having carried you to bed.

Every year, your New Years resolution was to stay awake next time long enough to watch the clock tick over to midnight. There was something magical about it as a child, the idea of peeling away the old paint of the past year to reveal the shiny, fresh surface of the new.

You wonder if your parents are awake now, watching the end of the Polar Express and drinking out of those funny little port glasses.

Your bedpartner stirs, murmuring sleepily into his pillow. He’s drooling. It’s cute. You get the feeling, from the way that he’d fucked you, that he’s not the kinda guy who appreciate being called that, though.

Those type of guys are always the cutest.

If he’d woken up, you would’ve told him that, but he doesn’t. He just settles back into the pillow. You do throw the blanket over his naked pelvis, though, because you’re considerate like that. Nice girl. Sweet girl. Bunny. Everyone likes you. You’re so much fun. And you’re having fun. Buckets of it. Enough to drown in it.

You slide your bare feet onto the cold floor and begin the search for your shoes. Happy New Year to me.

[ranchracoon]

"Make Me Yours" Ch. 7 The First Day

Chapter 6

Carmen wakes in the early morning, at least no dreams or nightmares plague her which means she must be on the right track. Her night vision is in full activation as she scans around the room seeing the other staff still asleep. She stands from her bed and attempts to sneak past toward the door, but her first attempt is muddled by the sound of another person getting out of bed. Breakfast follows the same routine as dinner only they eat beforehand; she follows the head maiden, helps set up the table, eats the bland gruel, then awaits in the dining room for her mate to arrive. Bela always arrives first, followed by Daniela, and then Cassandra which means her mate will be joining them soon. She wishes she could shush up her wolf who goes crazy over the simple thought of this woman. She needs to escape and the girls are the key, it sounds like Daniela might be the easiest to manipulate. 

When the lady arrives Carmen stupidly presents herself again. Maybe she should find a courting gift to give her? That has to spark something right? No. No she needs to get out of here, and get these literal children back to their homes. However, if they leave then what will her mate eat? Maybe she can survive off animals. Carmen is an excellent hunter! She can provide for her mate and her mate's daughters! No. No. No. This woman is not her mate, she obviously feels nothing and finds Carmen disgusting from looks she's given. Maybe if she can prove herself, the lady has to be impressed by something. 

Carmen grabs her spinning head. She's getting a headache from all of the confliction; she's finally found her mate after all these years, but this woman eats humans, and according to the warnings the staff have whispered, the daughters like to torture maids who act up. This isn't right. Why would the Goddess pick someone like her? Someone who clearly enjoys the suffering of others, gets off on the fear she invokes. Yet her horny little wolf finds her confidence so sexy, the way she walks and carries herself makes Carmen want to drool.

"You."

Just like a blown out candle all of her doubts and confliction is snuffed as she hears her voice calling her. Carmen practically sprints to the lady's side, beaming with happiness at the attention. The lady scoffs and doesn't even look in her direction. Please. Just give her a chance.

"I will contact Mother Miranda today on what to do with you. You will be working under Bela today" she looks up at her eldest daughter "keep her alive. Otherwise I could care less what you do with her" the lady casts a glance in Carmen's direction, "or how many digits she has by the end of the day."

Carmen deflates once again, a chill running up her spine from the threatening tone in her voice. This has to be some mistake. Maybe she can work her way through Bela, but it seems that Bela is the most trusted but for good reason. She'll be the hardest to sway, maybe if Carmen can get all three daughters to like her then their mother will have to like her too! The lady looks at Carmen from the corner of her eye. How she despises wolves and their simple minded way of life, she's not the first wolf to come here and try the 'mate' bit. However, the way she comes to her call instantly, the utter euphoria this pest secretes when she merely looks at her, makes her think this one might be legit. The lady must admit, this one is very attractive if not for all the tattoos and piercings, what a waste of such a beautiful body. 

The lady excuses her daughter and makes her exit, Bela swarms over to Carmen and smirks down at her. Carmen has to play nice so she refrains from crossing her arms, it's going to take every ounce of restraint to keep from fighting her. Bela walks quickly, Carmen nearly sprints to keep up with her but they hardly make it a few feet before Carmen is cut off by the redhead, Daniela. Daniela looks Carmen over, her golden eyes latching onto every detail present before she bounces on the balls of her feet. 

"We never got to properly meet. I'm Daniela, who are you?"

"Daniela! Leave her alone. She's a prisoner, not a plaything."

"I'm Carmen, nice to meet you Daniela" Carmen says coyly. 

"You! No talking to my sister! Daniela leave us now!"

"Oh come on Bela, we never get anyone from outside the village, look at all these cool tattoos. I bet she has lots of fascinating stories" Daniela whines. 

"I do. You should hear about the time I took down a jaguar. The biggest on the whole island."

"Island?!" Daniela squeals. 

"Jaguar?" Cassandra chimes in. 

Bela shoves her sister off to the side, grabbing Carmen by the wrist hard enough that if she were human it would snap the bones. 

"Enough! She's coming with me. If I see either of you near I will tell mother. Now scram. As for you" she turns her attention to Carmen, "I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work. You'll learn your place here or Mother Miranda will deal with you. Either way you won't be here for long."

Bela drags Carmen out of the dining room, back through the kitchen, she unlocks a large iron gate leading down to the dungeons. Carmen shivers and grimaces from the smell down there. It smells like mold, blood, and death. Bela releases her wrist and ignites a lantern to cast a thin ray of light. Carmen looks around to see a large hole broken from the ceiling that Bela avoids, maybe that's why the area is locked. Carmen could easily jump through that in her wolf form and the thought is mighty tempting. 

"Go ahead" Bela challenges.

Carmen looks at her, she stands there with the lit lantern in one hand and her sickle in the other. She might be able to outrun her, but she can't say for certain, she'll have to study her opponent more. Carmen looks through the hole again, in the distance seeing what looks like a human with bat wings. She shivers and takes a step back from the hole before turning her attention back to Bela who only smirks and continues to walk. As they go further into the dungeon Carmen keeps hearing the pitter of rats and the scraping of metal on stone. Something else is down here with them. Bela pauses for only a moment when she hears a low growling noise, a little too close for comfort. It's hard to make out what this creature is because the light doesn't cast a big enough net to fully illuminate the room, but the glare keeps Carmen from seeing past the light. 

Stepping into the light is a deformed skeletal creature dragging a sword, Carmen braces and her hackles raise. She growls and crouches, her skin itching as she readies herself. She tries to shift, let her wolf out as a sudden surge of protectiveness takes over all thought and rational. Only there's one issue: she can't transform. Carmen looks at her hands and grunts as she tries again and still nothing. Her wolf inside is going nuts, she wants to be released so badly to fight this thing, keep Bela safe. No, keep herself safe. Bela is perfectly capable. Why would she want to keep her prisoner safe?

Bela walks over casually and pushes the creature in the other direction like a diver pushing a shark away. She looks over at Carmen with a raised eyebrow and when Carmen stands she continues to look at her hands. 

"Was that supposed to do something?"

"I-I can't shift."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

Bela walks away again, but Carmen quickly follows before that creature returns. 

"What was that thing?" She asks.

"A Moroaica" Bela answers. 

"A what?"

"It's what we called the failed experiments. I'd explain it, but I'm afraid your simple mind might not be able to comprehend it."

"Try me."

Carmen could understand perfectly, but it left her with more questions than answers; they drain a maiden's blood for their food source, give her a parasite called Cadou, and those that do survive turn into horrid deformed creatures like the Moroaica or Samca  which she saw earlier. Carmen wants to ask more about this process, mainly to sate her own sicken curiosity, but she doesn't want to push. Bela seemed very guarded about giving out this information, but there was also a spark of excitement in her voice, as if she enjoys the process.

Instead, Carmen sits in silence as Bela takes inventory of their stocks inside a wine storage room. Carmen stays put, her mind hurting as if someone is poking it with a hot, pointed, rod. She holds her head in her hands as her previous concern returns. Why can't she shift? Her wolf is whimpering to be let out. This must have to do with her mate, or maybe whatever is cutting her off from her Goddess. Bela doesn't speak to her the entire time, and more than once Carmen tries to shift only to grunt in frustration. 

"What are you doing? Do I need to take you on a walk?" Bela snaps sarcastically. 

Carmen scoffs, "how original with the dog jokes. Don't you have a pile of rancid food to take a shit on?"

"Oh. Little wolfy has some bite, that'll get you far" Bela retorts. 

Carmen  sighs heavily, "why do you hate my kind so much?"

"Because mother doesn't like your kind, therefore we don't."

"So, you do everything your mother says."

"Could say the same about you" Bela bites.

Carmen rolls her eyes, Bela isn't going to get her anywhere. Daniela is her key.

Chapter 8

[seeminglyseph]

It is a little wild sometimes seeing Invincible the superhero series being written about as like... "new and innovative" or something... because I did absolutely read the comic in 2010, and there were multiple trade paperbacks at the time.

I mean, I know full well "I read the comic" is a useless phrase because The Boys is also coming out, and the comic for that is just as dated and I avoided it for the most part because I liked DC Comics and didn't want to read Ennis' unhinged gore porn. DC was going through its Dork Dark Age that needed commenting on that is fully lost in commentary now, I feel like a madman trying to explain that now that like... "I mean I think this is around the same time Teen Titans decided to bring back the Wonder Twins, Wendy and Marvin from the old cartoons, including their Wonder Dog, only it turns out the dog was a monster who ravaged and mauled them to a bloody mess. Marvin is killed on the panel, and Wendy is gravely injured and paralyzed from the waist down. She got an Oracle moment in a different book with a more optimistic tone, but that was far from the original intention, or the only Teen Titan killed in a gory and gratuitous way on the pages of Teen Titans. The comic most likely to be picked up by children because of brand identity."

I fully stopped reading DC Comics because of Lian Harper back in the day... like. Then they rebooted the universe so it fully didn't matter but like. It very much confuses me when I hear like... "it's so innovative to see superhero media where it's fucked up."

And like. Clearly, the only superhero media you are consuming is MCU movies or spinoffs. That's the shit that I was pretty sure these comics were commenting on. That's the hell Frank Miller built for us.

Injustice: Gods Among Us came out in 2013. How are we still acting like "Superman but bad" is the most shocking concept. Anthony Starr's acting is fucking stellar and I do enjoy most of Kripke's writing. I did my time in Superhell. But like... I mean the fact that the Seven are a Justice League parody and The Boys have to bed over backwards to try and parody Marvel is like... man, this was written when someone else was on top, and now modern audiences are mixing metaphors because the DC references just aren't relevant unless sexy Harley Quinn is in it.

I have a migraine and maybe no actual point... I don't want to return to the era of pointless gratuitous violence in comics. Like I said, it made me stop reading because any time I even started to get attached to a character, they were brutally murdered or went through something traumatic and changed or left or were sidelined or something. It was just... exhausting and stressful. And paying money to be stressed out and disappointed was like... not fun or interesting. I think a lot of The Boys fans are experiencing that with this most recent season, which feels authentic to the comic experience. (A season four event is very close to a real-life trauma for me, so I'm making a mental health decision to not watch it at the moment. But I am watching fans spiral into disappointed rage. It's interesting...)

Anyway, this has been a rant about Superheros that doesn't really go anywhere. I think I'm gonna go smoke a blunt for this migraine and the stress. I'd suggest people broaden their horizons since like... there's been grimdark superheroes forever, but it's like... it's a mostly miserable slog through various fluids and rushed art and bad plotlines that go nowhere. And most people probably got revealed to be sex pests at a minimum by now because the industry appears to be full of monsters... I'm very tired.

[akwolfgrl]

Part 18 LFT

Zoro left the box of cat stuff in the boys' room before he headed towards the galley where he knew Sanji was. He had heard the blond singing. He didn't know Sanji could sing… unless you count those sexy moans as singing. The cat was curled around his neck, purring loudly, reminding him of what was at hand now. Zoro thought cats were supposed to be aloof, but this one had walked right up to him and climbed up his leg. The damn thing had rubbed its head against his own before batting at his earrings. Zoro had gotten lucky. He had stumbled into a book store where the lady working there had been of great help. He was nervous. He didn't give people gifts, but he was just following Nami’s advice.

Zoro watched from the galley window as Sanji moved things in his cabinet around. Zoro opened the door and stepped inside.

A mighty tempest grew

The banshee cried "turn back!"

But our resolve was true

And pointed bow ahead and shouted

"We'll break threw"

The jaws of hell can't hold us back

There's nothing that can keep us from The Shadow

Zoro leaned against the wall, his hand coming to scratch the cat perched along his shoulders. He watched and listened as the cook sang a smile upon his face, a new large strange pot sat upon the stove.

“I didn't know you sang, you should do it more often,” Zoro wasn't here to rile him up this time. His voice was softer than normal, trying to prove he wasn’t here to cause chaos.

“Wow! You're back early! I thought for sure you'd be in a bar getting drunk somewhere,” The blond didn't bother turning around, but Zoro could see his ear turn pink. “Ah well, I did grow up with a pirate, Ussop bought it up, and I realized how much I miss singing with everyone,” Curly closed the cabinet gently before turning towards him. With one raised curly brow, he asked, “What's with the cat?”

“He’s for you, I figured since you're busy guarding against Luffy you could use help guarding against the smaller pests,” Zoro reached behind him and slid a hand under the cat's belly, its claws sticking to his shirt. “Oi, will let go of me.” Sanji laughed, Zoro didn't think he had ever heard the other man laugh before he wanted to hear it again. He turned back around and dug through the fridge.

“Need some help Marmio? We had a ship cat on the braite, she used to keep the mice and rats at bay. She had died of old age a week before I met all of you. She would sleep with the old geezer,” Sanji shut the fridge door and turned back around with a small fish in his hand. He made a tounge clicking noise and tapped the counter with his fingers. That cat left him for Sanji. “Here you go kitty,” Sanji knelt down to feed the cat, letting it sniff his fingers before getting a head butt then deciding the fish in his hand was more interesting.

“What were you singing? I never heard that one before,” Zoro asked.

“It's one that Zeff and his crew made up, it's based on a ship they ran across in the grandline, it's a ghost ship with ragged black sails,” Sanji spoke while petting the cat.

“Speaking of the Grand Line… I got you a gift,” Zoro took the book out of his haramaki.

Sanji looked up at him, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he stared at him in confusion. “A gift? A gift for Me? Why would you get me a gift?”

“Because I like you dumbass, why else would I get you a gift? Here take it,” Zoro held out the book. What was wrong with Sanji that he couldn't just accept a gift, was this the first time someone gave him a gift? Blondie finally stood up and took the book from him.

“Gathering in the Grand Line,” Sanji read the title out loud before flipping through the book. “Thank you Zoro.”

“Your welcome Sanji,” he says rubbing the back of his neck a bit flustered.

“I don't feel like a thank you is enough, how about I show you my appreciation instead,” Sanji smirked at him before putting the book down and stepping closer. “I think I should finish that blow job from the other night that you so rudely interrupted~”

***

Zoro stumbled out of the galley, his legs still shaky from Sanji’s blow job skills. They were absolutely repeating that experience at a later time.

“Well I see someone did a good job at gift giving,” Nami was smirking at him from where she sat on the railing, right on Sanji's spot. “Now go take a shower there’s clothes waiting for you on the coach along with roses, I couldn't get Sanji's favorite followers because they only grow in the north sea. You have a reservation at ADKT so hurry up. You are so lucky I'm so nice, Zoro!” Zoro glared at her and resisted the urge to say something back, because she was unfortunately correct. “So what did you even get him?”

“A cat and a book about gathering in the Grand Line,” Zoro wasn't about to admit that he had some help in picking out the gifts.

“A cat? Really?” Nami sighed. “Let me guess he loved both gifts. I guess you're secretly a big softy under that scary muscle mass.”

“Hey!” Zoro complained about being called soft.

“Just a big ole teddy bear,” Nami teased him with a wicked grin. “Does Sanji know what a big ole softy you are?”

“Shut up!” Zoro yelled before stomping away to shower, Namis laughter trailing behind him.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Little Farmer Jun

If I went back in time and told myself 5 years ago that one day I'd be writing a blog post about a collectible figure (that not only did I own but had in fact avidly collected) of a mainland Chinese actor dressed as a high-fashion sexy exterminator in a enormous fluffy yellow hat, I would have been very concerned. I would have 1) thought future Lelanthe had lost her ever-loving mind, 2) wondered how exactly was it that someone who had lost every single marble could even have dreamed up a chain of events leading up to that particular scenario?

Truth is stranger than fiction, my figthusiast friends.

The inspiration for this fig, and many others, all of which you will be seeing in the future, is Gong Jun's frankly rather incredible November 2022 Cosmopolitan Magazine photo shoot:

Yes, I own this mag, and I regret nothing. NOTHING, I SAY!

In order to fully appreciate this mag, I think you need a behind-the-scenes video. Here you go, my friends who have gone down this very unique life path with me...

The inspiration for this particular fig is of course this:

What in the name of all that is holy was someone thinking when they put this outfit together, I just don't know. This mag shoot was the one that that got me to the point that I don't even question this stuff anymore. I mean, look at him. The outfit is ridiculous but his face is stunning as always, his legs look a million miles long, his arms look strong, and his shoulders are broad enough to carry this look off.

The fig maker called this fig a farmer, but let's be real - it's an exterminator. Yes, I suppose farmers can have spray packs too, for exterminating pests! May I just say that I get my house sprayed on the regular for pest control, and never ONCE has any exterminator looked even vaguely like this. Disappointing. Tragic, really.

Here he arrived on my doorstep, swaddled up protectively in his polystyrene case, with his little spray wand accompanying him.

My heart does sink a little bit each time I see an accessory with a fig. The question of will-it-won't-it fit is always a pertinent one when you're as clumsy as I am. You can see his little curled right hand there that is meant to hold the handle like in the picture.

Luckily, the handle fit well into his hand - I kind of had to push it a bit harder than I'd like to get it to stay, but once it was there it was (relatively) secure.

This little man wasn't standing on his own for anything. You'll see why a little more clearly as we rotate around the figure, but basically he's unbalanced because of all his equipment on his back, along with this gigantic hat.

Speaking of the hat, it's pretty amazing. Not only do we have this great knit texture on the hat itself, we have flocking on the ear muffs! Amazing.

All my figs get a soapy water bath to clean them when they arrive (I've seen some factory production pictures!). Unfortunately, I was going on autopilot with this last shipment of figs, and I accidentally dunked this little guy in the soapy bath. I immediately yelped and grabbed him right back out. I hated to soak him even more by rinsing him off, but at that point there was nothing to be done, other than cursing my own name. I was worried I had damaged the flocking, but he seems to have dried up just fine!

No harm done. There's a few different figs with flocking in production right now, so just as well I learned from this one!

There is a TON of detail on this fig. Kind of amazing looking at it - there is a lot going on. Credit to Junjun again that he was wearing this outfit in the pics vs. it wearing him. The factory work is remarkably clean too, nice and sharp paint lines.

You can see there that he is holding the little spray handle just fine. I was not a fan of this outfit in the magazine, but I kind of love this fig.

He's so cute. When visitors come over and look at my fig displays, I can promise you this is one they will definitely ask about!

So fancy, Junjun, with your Tiffany jewelry!

This is a good shot of his hand holding the sprayer. Actually a great shot of both of his hands.

It's really interesting to me that there's a little hole here in his spray backpack. I wonder if there was originally plans to put the spray tube in? There's the full tubing in the magazine pic, and you can see it in the video, so I wonder.

Look at all that detail in the knit hat. Incredible!

Unfortunately, this entire series came without box art or box cards, so that's it for pics. There's more in this series coming, so stick around if you'd like to see more!

Material: Resin and some kind of flocking, Calico Critters-style

Fig Count: 418

Scene Count: 29

Rating: No bugs here, Ma'am

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[lilyspond64]

i think part of the reason people hate skyler so much has nothing to do with her wishy washy attitude towards walt in season 4 or her asshole standpoint towards jesse and marie when they committed rather petty crimes or like, that one time she faked being sick to break into a house.

like all these things are character flaws that skyler has. she doesn't always know what to do in tough situations and sometimes she loses sight of what's going on. in her moral viewpoint all crimes are immoral including something as petty as selling weed. and she's ok with manipulating people to get what she wants. character flaws! very minor ones, ones that make her a better, more full character.

skyler haters don't give a shit that she did all that. they don't care about her character flaws. they care that she "fucked ted." now i agree that ted beneke is really shitty and in fact putting someone else at risk for your own sake is fucked up, as is coercing an employee to sing in a "sexy voice" for you. ted hate is justified, i think.

breaking bad fans who hate skyler have this viewpoint that she's a wishy washy bitch who fucked another guy cause she's an unfaithful whore who needed to be put in her place by a strong alpha male like walter. so as the story went on and she became more and more scared of walter, and he liked this, it made him feel powerful, because he could control her. There's this really horrible scene at the beginning of season 5, where she's terrified because Walt just blew up three people in a nursing home, when literally a few weeks ago he went on a rant about how if a guy gets shot at his doorstep, walter would be the shooter. If my spouse of like 17 years told me he blew up three guys and shoots people at their doorstep sometimes, I would be fucking terrified.

One of the best scenes of Breaking Bad is in Ozymandias. After convincing Skyler that he commits murder on a daily basis (because in season 5 let's be honest, he kind of does) what is she supposed to think when he comes home without Hank after supposedly being arrested by him. "Oh, Walt, I'm so sorry that some Neo-Nazis appeared out of nowhere and killed Hank. It's not your fault, glory to Vamonos Pest." No! She grabs a knife, because there's a fucking murderer in her house. I do believe that in Felina, Skyler believes Walt when he says he didn't kill Hank, but does it really matter, in the end?

In that scene in Ozymandias, when she cuts his hand with the knife, Walter yells that "We're a family!" while Holly is crying in the back, and Flynn is crouching in front of his mother, blocking her from danger - THE danger, or his father, Walter.

And this is why they all get it wrong. Skyler wasn't an ungrateful little bitch whore who sleeps with Ted cause she's disgusting and unfaithful. Their views on "infidelity in marriage" and "cheating on your spouse" have absolutely no nuance to them - if you're married, you're your spouse's property - giving yourself to someone else is a disgusting breach of the social contract. Ignore the fact that her husband is a meth cook who's putting her whole family in danger of being kicked out of their houses or arrested - and possibly even attacked by other criminals, something that literally happens like one episode before she fucks Ted.

So like, yeah, Skyler did one thing that was unforgivable in their eyes, and it was sleeping with Ted. I've seen some people also be mad about her smoking while pregnant, and like, yeah! That's harmful for the baby, and when born can cause issues! Skyler is not perfect! Actually, uh, her decision to sleep with Ted is a pretty bad one, through her hindsight - Walt doesn't leave her, and he uses it as blackmail against her... uh... so basically, because Walt didn't react the way she expected, those viewers thought she was just a cheating little bitch.

I love how many times in season 2 Walt accuses Skyler of thinking he's cheating, she finds out he's NOT cheating, and in fact a drug dealer. Like they really do stress that infidelity is like not the issue. So much in season 2. That's probably because Skyler fucking Ted was planned and they wanted to show that the worst she could do to Walt is nothing - she had no power or control over him. But to a misogynist who would send Anna Gunn hatemail, these facts are good - Skyler having power would mean taking away from the man slowly becoming more and more alpha, as he throws tantrums in public offices and has beef with a 25 year old. Really ridiculous how people see Walt as a definition of masculinity when really he's a prick who gets other people to do his dirty work and takes all the credit. He isn't the one who knocks, Jesse is. Hector won, not you, Walt. And yeah, you didn't kill Hank, maybe, but who's gonna believe you after you said you killed so many others?

Skyler is a tragic character the same way Jesse is. She's not Kim Wexler, she's not Bonnie Elizabeth Parker, she's a woman who was roped into a horrifying situation because of a man whose pride was too large to avoid committing murder and cooking meth when he got the first opportunity. She's a woman who, trying to keep her children safe, was forced to help a drug kingpin launder his money and keep his drug money a secret, because if she didn't, she feared her whole family would be thrown out of the house, or worse, held accountable for Walt's actions. Walt even tries to tell her to maintain some distance from the business, (because he's an arrogant piece of shit who doesn't want anyone meddling in his business) without realizing how fucking bad he was at keeping it a secret. If dude had never met Saul, he would have been thrown into a cell before season 3 even started.

I find it very hard to blame Skyler for much of her actions. I do blame her yeah, she's a grown woman who can make her own decisions, but her hands are kind of tied by the institutions at place - marriage, family, misogyny - so that her only way of escape is that he leaves her or dies. She's trapped. If you hate her because she slept with another guy, it's probably just because you hate women.

(As a footnote, both Skyler and Walter aren't real people who we can pass moral judgement on, obviously. This post is more about how their characters should be read and how they're intended to be framed by the narrative. They're both amazingly written and acted characters and I'm glad we could get a show like this at least once in our lifetimes)

[yamatossideboob]

ONE PIECE 1128 Spoilers!

This week's flights of fancy:

GOOD COLOUR SPREAD i love Robin with glasses 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

yes yes ty Sanji 😒

Okay so going by this week's chapter, it seems a lot of people (inc me) were a bit hasty assigning those errors to absinthe illusion. I'm personally not going to toss that idea out just yet, but I'm ready to eat some humble pie if need be.

damn Usopp those are some big fucking trousers, perhaps for the big swinging dick you'll develop over the course of this arc if Oda keeps his promise.

Nami, Sanji's always been a dog 🙄

(Meradar is a good name for it though credit where it's due)

Maybe it's the Irish in me but the specific detail of there being no wind in this open space is. uncomfortable.

BORN TO BE FUCKIN WILD BABY

That's such a good grasshopper, they're such cool shaped insects!

I assume his side tattoo is a Sun God symbol, is this guy a false god goon?

tfw your idiot man trio pals just opened a six pack of whoop ass on this society's feline god

FUCKING Sanji and Zoro both whistling nonchalantly lmfao

"Oh no don't say it like-" Nami knows Luffy all too well unfortunately.

- Barges into wandering crew in Giant Lego Land - "Stay away from the Sun God Temple" - Refuses to elaborate further - Leaves

Nami no, the blep of apology is an admittance of guilt!

yeah Zoro IS a bad influence on Luffy! He should be a sex pest like good ol' Sanji

god Luffy's Elbaf fit is so good

See this is why I'm not dismissing the illusion angle just yet, Oda is HINTING at things, I'm sure of it

also damn Luffy ate shit here. That wall hit him harder than Lucci on Egghead lol

A sun god splitting the sky when their gods are falling all around them... I'm sure nothing significant will come of any of this.

We're through the looking glass here people

ok idk if i'm just seriously overlooking it but i don't see where Chopper was being kept if it was shown at all? whatever hi Chopper welcome back

"Now you owe me one" "Huh?!" Never change Nami 💚

thanks to watching the motion picture The Incredible Shrinking Man, I am extremely aware that fighting normal animals several times your size fucking sucks

this ersatz Sun God with the Cuban heels sashaying back to work, totally unsuspecting of the chaos to reign

that is a sexy fucking design for a false god, I cannot wait to see what happens next! speaking of designs, Luffy's Nika Viking look is sensational, horns are back in a big way this season!

Alas, that does it for another week. Maybe next time we'll meet up with Robin or Franky, or maybe the other half of the crew is having their own misadventures in the meantime. Only time, and Oda, will tell. Another chapter is due next week, so until then, stay cosy nakama 💪✖️

[mrvlbimbo]

Eddie dating a y2k baddie that like listen to lana del rey n MARINA (let's pretend that their music was out during that time k)

YESSSSSS

I’m currently working on a bimbo!reader x Eddie fic with a similar vibe but until then here’s some little stuff to hold everyone over.

Ok for the sake of this headcannon we’re in the modernverse now

Which would make Eddie one of those skater stoner alt guys probably, he would still like 80s rock thou let’s be clear!!!

But who better for him to date than a y2k girlie. Although he doesn’t quite understand the need for jeans that low rise he definitely appreciates the subculture.

But let’s talk abt low rise jeans for a sec be he’d be obsessed! Especially if u wore them in that y2k style with the thong rlly high up. Bc he would just be a pest and snap it against your skin all the time . And maaaaaybe part of it is the way your ass jigglings when it snaps back, but he’s not going to admit that.

He LOVES those little lacy tanktops bc they look so cute and you always get cold when you wear them and need to borrow his jacket.

The absurd amount of Flipflops and heels Paris Hilton (fashion inspiration) wore in the early 2000s omg. You would wear them too and your feet would be hurting after a day of it. Dw Eddie will carry you, he’s surprisingly strong.

Lipgloss lipgloss lipgloss!!! He loves “testing” whatever new flavor you’ve just bought. Which basically equates to him eating it off of your face in a very aggressive kiss and bluntly stating “tastes good babe”

You swear he sneaks into your cabinet and eats it out of the tube at night while you’re sleeping but you have no proof. Except for the fact you run out so quickly. Or more likely he’s squeezing it down the drain so you have to buy more and he gets to try a new flavor.

He especially likes lipgloss as a sort of lube for blowjobs bc it makes his dick all shiny and sparkly and he thinks that’s funny and cute.

Ok finally let’s get to the music. Let’s be honest Lana songs fuck. Like that’s some sexy ass music!!!

He swears that he doesn’t like your music at first but whenever you’re dancing around the kitchen singing Lana he’s like instantly hard. (Not that it ever takes him much to get hard)

And you swear Lana songs are only for dilfs but you always make an exception for him. Prompting him to tease “one day you’re gonna make me a dilf, babe” but that’s enough on the subject of kids.

Awwwww I’m so soft for Eddie fr this prompt made me so happy as I am a bit of a y2k girlie myself!

[milkymoon2483]

Kiss it better

Pairing: Jake Lockley x female reader

Summary: This fic explores cheating from the cheater’s perspective. You are a wife and mother, content with your life…until something awakens within you, and it will not go back to sleep. 

Rating: 18 + Minors DNI, this stuff is for grown-ups

Warnings: Angst galore, Cheating, infidelity, SMUT, Unprotected P in V (reader makes all sorts of bad decisions folks).

Dedications:

Thank you miss @cozykalii for sending me down the fanfic rabbit hole all those months ago. Thank you Cici @astroboots for being amazing and for answering all of my asks. Thank you bestie (you know who you are) for helping me bring this baby out.  ;-) Thank you @foxilayde for allowing me to tag you, and for the amazing stuff you write. Lastly, English is not my first language, Spanish is not even my 4th (thanks Google Translate) I tried my very best. 

Word count: ~8500

You were watching TV while mindlessly playing on your phone when it happened, you looked at the screen and the broad chest was the first thing that caught your attention, the camera moved down to his big veiny hands as he grabbed the weapon. Sweat glistened on his face, collecting in the cupid’s bow above his lips. You didn't know the actor’s name but you watched breathlessly, the surge of heat to your core was immediate. Oh my goodness.. you whispered under your breath. You wanted to lick the beads of sweat off his lips and take his thick fingers into your mouth, watch him gaze at you lustfully. Your husband’s snores from the other side of the couch  informed you that any satisfaction you were after would need to be achieved independently.

Not that he would be much help anyway…

It’s not that you didn’t love him or were not content with your life, it’s just that your sex life was never perticularly exciting. And it got much less so after the birth of your son. Babies would do that to you.

You knew you had everything that anyone could even want; A loving husband, a wonderful smart kid, a great job and a big beautiful house. You were happy to settle and keep your sexdrive in some hidden drawer at the back of your mind, stuffed behind embarrassing memories and questionable decisions. However that night it crept right back out, like a pest you could not get rid of, demanding your attention.

The batteries in your vibrator ran out the following week. You looked at the anatomically accurate member with disappointment. Feeling both frustrated at the sudden loss of pleasurable vibrations and ashamed at the amount of times you've abused it. You had plenty of orgazms but it was clear to you that you barely began to scratch your itch, you needed more. 

You wished you could dream about it. Even just once, you wished your mind would conjure a proper erotic dream. That would be enough for you, with all of your daydreaming and longing and inappropriate googling, you'd think that it would be able to come up with a decent dream. Alas your realm of dreams was filled with random stressful scenarios. 

You would find yourself on the streets naked (not in a sexy way), or you'd forget to pick up your kid from daycare, or you would leave something on the stove for too long, causing your entire house to engulf in flames. “Some very anxiety-ridden-demented-senile shit” as you described it to a friend. 

Any semi-sexual dreams would almost always be about rejection, or dissatisfaction, or the inability to have any privacy. They would almost always feature your husband. Because apparently your sleeping brain couldn't be bothered to keep up with your very filthy and creative waking brain. It had a very impressive curated selection of men to choose from, but it went with the blob snoring next to you. All you wanted is to be properly fucked, licked, adored, desired…to feel the delicious weight of a man on top of you as he glides into you, his kisses flowing from your mouth to your jawline and to the neck, him whispering softly how good you make him feel, how soft and sweet and wet you are for him…and a dream would do. You could live with a memory of it, it would possibly sustain you just for a little bit longer, maybe would quench your thirst, even slightly. 

*******

You were on your second chocolate bar of the day, looking at Vivienne typing away on her computer. She looked you up and down, judging silently your choice of afternoon snack. 

She's always on some diet or another. Probably explains the constant resting bitch face. 

You however, have been replacing sex with chocolate for weeks now, attempting to fend off the intrusive thoughts and somehow satisfy the hunger that was pulsating inside of you, permanent and relentless. 

The evening came quickly, you were grateful work managed to keep your mind busy. You were yawning repeatedly while trying to catch a cab. After waking up at 5AM that morning and working for 10 hours, the exhaustion was making your eyes sting. The rush hour meant that it would take some time, but to your surprise not a minute passed before a cab stopped.

The smell hit you as soon as you sat down. Musky masculine cologne mixed with something fresh and minty, and the faintest scent of a man, ghost like, almost as if you could smell his pheromones. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent. It brought back a memory that you couldn’t quite place. You never had a date that smelled this amazing, let alone a cab driver. “Where to miss?” the driver asked, his voice husky with a hint of an accent. You gave him your address, piercing brown eyes gazed at you from the rear view mirror. 

He drove silently through the dark streets, gentle Spanish music was playing in the background, the backseat was very spacious, dimly lit, you began to doze off, surrendering to the fatigue that had built up throughout the day.

Jake looked through the mirror, you were leaning on your palm, breathing peacefully. 

Your delicate neck was exposed, and he noticed the slight cleavage of your button-down top. You looked tired, but serene. 

He usually drove in silence, not eager to share his thoughts on current affairs or to have to listen to people’s problems. You seemed to appreciate it, as you fell asleep within minutes. He smiled to himself. He wished for a moment all of his passengers were asleep, which would have made the job much easier.

Jake parked the cab in front of your house, the suburban street was quiet. 

“Miss? Miss?... We're here, miss, wake up”

You did not budge, your breath heavy and steady. He waited a few more seconds, inspecting your sleeping body. Your head was still leaning on your palm, hair softly cascading down your shoulders. There was something picturesque about your pose. You looked like a painting or a photograph. 

"Necesito despertarla.. mierda" (I need to wake her, shit) 

You stirred when his large gloved hand touched your knee gently “Miss, wake up please” Now you could see his face, stern but handsome. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you finally came to it, his gaze felt heavy on your skin. Penetrating. You apologized profusely and opened the cab door to exit.

“It’s ok, buenas noches” he said, a faint smile on his lips did not reach his eyes.

You quickly bid him farewell, missing the lovely smell as soon as you exited the cab. 

*********

The next time you entered the cab Jake recognized you right away. “Buenos días, bella durmiente” (Good morning, sleeping beauty). He seemed quite pleased to see you. 

You recognized him too. He could see you take a deep breath as you sat down, closing your eyes at the beautiful masculine scent. A warmth pooled in your core. Am I getting turned on just by this guy’s smell? 

“Buenos dias to you too” you chuckled shyly. Gosh that sounds wrong with my accent.

“Hope you slept well, where can I take you?” 

You gave him the address, not saying anything else as you felt yourself actually becoming nervous. He drove silently for a while, but the nervousness continued. 

A song Jake loved came on the radio and he began to sing along quietly. Your eyes lifted to him and your ears perked up. 

His voice was beautiful and smooth, less deep than you thought it would be, a lovely tenor. You smiled to yourself as he sang, the Spanish flowing from his mouth so effortlessly. You finally worked up the courage to compliment him, but you waited until the song finished. He seemed to be enjoying it too much for you to disturb.

 “You have a great voice” You finally said. “Gracias, miss….?” He replied, with a genuine smile this time.

“I’m Y/N…. You also smell really good… I mean your car…CAB. Your cab smells really good”.

You felt yourself blush, cheeks heating up immediately after the words left your mouth. God that was embarrassing.

Jake chuckled “Thanks, sweetheart”

Sweetheart… you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

He took the opportunity to look at you again for a brief moment, he saw you tucking your hair behind your ear. Light catching on the golden band on your ring finger, face blooming in a shade of pink.

“Im Jake, encantada de conocerte” 

“Nice to meet you too…?” You were not sure you understood but you guessed your best. Suddenly eager to learn Spanish.

“Ci, That’s right.”

“Maybe you should teach me some more Spanish, at least while I’m here”

Ok now you're FLIRTING…? You obviously forgot how to.. 

“Well I charge extra for that. Es muy caro” 

He's flirting back..? 

“I bet you do. Guess we’ll have to stick to English then”

“Or agree on a payment plan, I can give you a discount” He chuckled.Oh, he IS flirting back.

The tone between you two was playful, laced with just enough suggestion, and you were loving every minute of it. It felt like it’s been forever since you properly flirted with a man, and a warm feeling bloomed in your belly. 

When he stopped in front of your office building you were disappointed that you actually had to get off. 

He turned back, reaching out a gloved hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you” you said playfully, reaching your hand to him, expecting a handshake.

He took it gently, turned it and placed a peck on the back of your hand. 

Heat rose to your face and you giggled. 

Well HE obviously didn't forget how to flirt.

When you exited the cab you allowed yourself to smile fully, exhilarated by the exchange between the two of you. Ok calm down. He’s a cab driver, probably flirts all the time with his clients, just some harmless fun. He probably knows that women fall for the sexy Spanish shtick. 

You giggled to yourself as you repeated the words “sexy Spanish shtick” out loud. Giddy like a goddamn teenager.

Later you replayed the whole conversation in your head, overthinking as usual, you tried not to let it get out of proportion, it’s just that it’s been so fucking long since you felt noticed and desired, you were ready to cling to any interaction that made you feel like that.

Some low hanging fruit you are.. you told yourself, wondering if you cooperated too quickly, if the whole exchange made you look pathetic. 

It was hard to admit to yourself that you needed to be desired by men, other than the one you married. It felt juvenile, greedy even. Even when you did come to terms with it , it was clear to you that it was obviously limited to looks and words, you didn't plan on acting on any of it.

**********

The heatwave was washing over the city, laying thick like a heavy blanket you could not shake off. July was merciless, and the mid- day sun burnt so bright it caused heat to reflect from the scorching pavement.

You’ve spent all morning running errands, and now you were finally done at the market, making your way back to the bus stop. Your work did not cover cab fare on weekends and the bus ride wasn’t too long. The 5 minute walk to the station was, however, much longer than you imagined. With the heavy bags in your hands cutting the circulation to your fingers, your dress sticking to your body, sweat pooling on your back, and the blazing sun above, you felt as if you were about to melt into the sidewalk. You imagined yourself turning into a puddle, and then evaporating quickly under the blazing heat. 

BEEP BEEP 

The sound jolted you, you looked to your left as the cab window rolled down.

“Need a ride?” Jake smiled

Your core went all jittery at the sound of his voice. You'd clap with excitement like a baby seal if your hands were free…calm your tits.

“Hey Jake! I’m actually walking to the bus stop, it’s just around the corner”

You hoped he would insist.

“Come on, it’s on my way, I’ll drop you off”.

“How do you know it’s on your way? I haven't told you were I was going”

You just couldn’t resist teasing him.

“No seas un sabelotodo. You’re melting, get in” (don't be a smartass)

“If you insist… I AM actually melting”

Jake opened the driver’s door, he walked up to you and grabbed the grocery bags to put them in the back. You were finally able to get a good look at him. He was wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie. Hat and gloves still in place, defiant against the scorching heat. You couldn't help yourself from sneaking a good look at his butt. His dark jeans complimented his ample ass and thick thighs. 

“Get in the front seat, the AC is much stronger” 

You nodded and got in, the heavenly smell filling your lungs again, a bit stronger now that you sat closer to him.

Jake cranked up the AC as you leaned in, lifting your hair up, relishing in the breeze, albeit artificial. Your neck arched back, exposing more skin to the cooling air. You closed your eyes and a satisfied hum left your lips.

Jake was careful not to stare, but he couldn’t help but notice the way your neck was exposed completely, your skin glistening with sweat. Your dress rode up slightly when you sat down, revealing a little more of your thigh. 

A few seconds passed before he remembered he actually needed to drive.

“Where to, miss Y/N?” He asked

“Home please, the address is..”

“I remember where that is”  “You must have a great memory then, because in this heat I barely remember”

“I try to remember the important stuff” 

Jake replied, a small grin adorned his lips and you grinned right back, avoiding his eyes. That would be much too intense and you were already boiling. 

When you arrived he parked the cab. "I'll help you carry the bags inside" he said before you had a chance to protest.

"Please you have already done so much, it's really not that heavy" you tried to resist. He waved his gloved hand at your statement and proceeded to take the bags out and carry them towards your door.

As you unlocked the door your heart sank, you weren't sure you wanted him to come inside.

When you both walked in, he placed the bags on the kitchen island and looked around. There was no point in denying the family photos and scattered toys. 

"Cute kid, seems happy" he said, picking up one of the framed photos.

"Yeah, he is, thanks" you replied, smiling shyly, not willing to elaborate on the topic.

"I bet you're a good mom" he persisted, still holding your son's picture in his hand.  "I love him very much, so I try my best, though nobody's perfect, certainly not me". You replied. 

He smiled and put the picture back, perhaps sensing your discomfort. 

You never really spoke with him about being a wife and a mother (and you were grateful that both of them weren't home) Although you also never hid the wedding band on your hand. 

This was not ok, you knew it. 

What the hell is wrong with me?? Inviting a stranger into my house? Happy that my family is not home? Am I demented? 

You had to admit it to yourself, this scenario would be 10/10 creepy if Jake wasn't so attractive. He could also be like Ted Bundy, all smiles and charm before he chops me into little pieces. 

"Can I offer you something cold to drink?" You attempted to change the subject. 

Jake nodded and you promptly handed him a glass of cold water. 

He downed it all in one go, as you watched his adam's apple bob on his thick neck while he drank.

He handed you the glass and your fingers brushed against his gloved ones. 

"Thank you so much Jake, I really appreciate it, really, you shouldn't have" 

"Esta bien, dont worry about it, my pleasure" he smiled. 

You walked him back to the front door, feeling awkward and nervous. You weren't sure what to do. Do I shake his hand? Do I peck him on the cheek? Maybe a small polite hug? 

You both stopped by the door, facing each other, you finally met his gaze. Beautiful deep brown eyes were looking at you, adorned with long dark lashes. They seemed much softer than you initially thought.

"You have an eyelash on your cheek, may I? " he asked and you could only nod. 

Your eyes moved to his hands as he removed his glove, watching with tethered breath as if it was in slow motion. After removing the glove, he very gently brushed your cheek with his thumb. "Now you need to make a wish" he smirked. The air was thick and heavy ,and your heart was thumping in your throat.

Without thinking, you placed your hand on his, and blew on the small lash on his thumb.

As it flew off somewhere you made your wish.

Fuck me. Kiss me.

*******

It was just one of those days. Everything that could go wrong absolutely did. It started with a missed alarm in the morning, continued with a tantrum from your toddler, who was outraged by the fact that the banana you served him for breakfast was indeed shaped like a banana, and not like a pineapple. Following that was an argument with your husband, about the proper way to handle said tantrum. 

Your cab driver that morning was insisting on having a political debate which you didn't want to participate in, and to top it off, the traffic was worse than usual. 

By the time you arrived at the office you were 35 minutes late, and positively exhausted. 

You were sure that with the morning you had, nothing could possibly go wrong at work. You were proven wrong when your boss called you out on a very stupid mistake you made, and scollded you (publicly of course) about your lack of attention to detail. It wasn't like him to do that, but you guessed it fit perfectly with the rest of your miserable day.

After a quiet cry in the bathroom, you were finally able to calm down. You sat on the toilet, wiping your tears away, and the memory of Jake came to your mind. There was something comforting in the thought of him, he was your little secret. He made you feel noticed, seen. It's been almost a week since you last saw him, since the exchange that left you breathless and flustered. 

You could admit to yourself that you wanted to see him again, that you liked how absolutely dangerously close you were to making a mistake. All you needed at that point was a tiny push in the wrong direction. Then It made you feel even worse when you considered the implications, playing horrible scenarios in your head about how horrible this could all end for you. Trying to convince yourself that it’s not worth it. The price you’d have to pay would be too high. 

Not that anything will actually happen anyway… The thought made you feel both relieved and frustrated. Because damn it, you wanted it to.

When 5 o'clock rolled around you were DONE, completely defeated by the day. You grabbed your stuff as quickly as possible and practically snuck out of the office the moment your boss turned his head. 

Jake's cab was waiting under the building. You recognized it immediately. You wondered if he's free, allowing yourself to indulge in the thought of him waiting for you. 

For a split second you tried to think of an excuse not to approach him, because getting in the cab with him wasn’t a good idea, on the other hand you were grateful to see a friendly face after the day you just had. 

Jake smiled widely when he saw you, signaling you to get in. You got in the seat next to him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I will never get over how he smells you thought to yourself as you settled.

“Mi pasajera favorita'' He smiled widely, he seemed to be in a good mood, you smiled back, trying to fend off your lousy one. Although you were sure he’d react politely, you didn’t want to burden him with everything that happened, you didn’t think that cab drivers (or hairdressers, or nail technicians) should be forced to listen to other people's problems while trying to do their job. 

He began driving without asking you for an address. 

Jake could feel something was not quite right “Que pasa? Everything ok?” 

“Just a very lousy day, nothing much really” you replied, hoping he would leave it at that. 

“Do we need to go kill someone real quick? I’ll make sure they never find the body” he smirked, trying to lighten your obviously lousy mood. You giggled sadly, as your armor began to crack.

“Nah, I think I’ll let them live, I can’t get messed up in murder, plus orange looks terrible on me”

“Can't imagine anything looking terrible on you” he replied, serious all of a sudden. Your forced laugh tried to break the awkwardness.

“Seriously, you can tell me querida"

You loved his terms of endearment, especially the Spanish ones. 

“It really was just a crappy day. Lots of small things that went wrong, but I’m glad to see you. I needed a friendly face after all that shit” you ended the sentence with a bite of bitterness to your voice, fighting back tears that began to sting the corners of your eyes. 

It felt so stupid to cry, for a second time that day, and in front of Jake.

“Hey..hey querida.. No, don't cry…” He said softly, which had the exact opposite effect as more tears rolled down your face. It was as if he broke the dam, finally giving you permission to let your guard down.

He pulled over, it was only about half a mile before reaching your house, but he couldn't bear to see you like that.  

“I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing, oh my god, shit…” you spoke through your tears, sniffling, desperately trying to stop them.

He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you, placing his large hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. It was heavy and warm and made you want to pull closer to him. 

“It’s gonna be ok mami, it’s just a bad day, you're gonna be fine…” 

You unbuckled and turned to him as well, the sobbing subsided, giving way to the nervousness that buzzed through you. Some tears were still escaping your eyes, he gently brushed them away with his hand and you leaned into his touch.

Your heart was beating mercilessly, belly in knots. You just sat there for a few moments, allowing his touch to both soothe and excite you. There was a lump in your throat and a pool of heat between your thighs. You knew he should stop but desperately wanted him to continue. 

“Do you want me to kiss it better…hmmm?” he asked almost in a whisper, making your heart flutter even more violently.

You did not respond, any response would result in a lose-lose situation. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted this, you also didn't want to say no. You knew this was the dreaded push in the wrong direction, and you were paralized with fear, drawing only shallow breaths.

His gloved thumb grazed over your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making goosebumps run down your spine. 

He leaned forward slowly placing a soft kiss on your cheekbone, 

and then another one on your cheek, 

and another one tethering on the edge of your lips. 

The fourth kiss reached your lips, soft and delicate, stained with your tears.

Your core heated up immediately, you couldn't help but lean into the kiss, pressing your lips onto his. His hand was gently cupping your face as your lips brushed softly against each other. It was a chaste, delicate kiss. His smell was making you dizzy, the masculine musk in it somehow amplified. 

You felt yourself physically torn, lust and guilt mixing inside of you into a nauseating concoction.  

"Stop please, I can't" you came to your senses briefly, laying your palm on Jake's chest.

"Lo siento" Jake replied softly, eyes still closed. You were still inches apart, you could still feel his breath on you, his hand still cupping your cheek. 

It took you all of five seconds before you were falling off the edge, pressing your lips on his again, admitting defeat, brushing his bottom lip with your tongue. That little flick of your tongue was all it took. Jake's hand moved to your neck, cupping your face between his thumb and index, his tongue licking into your mouth, his lips hot against yours, it was intense and possessive and conveyed nothing but desire and danger. He groaned softly against your lips as he claimed your mouth with his, you were barely able to catch a breath, heart slamming in your chest, mouth gasping for air but not able to break away from his kiss. He was kissing you like he wanted to have as much of you as possible while he still could. 

Jake felt the pulse in your throat in his palm, galloping at a merciless pace. He fantasized about this for weeks, and now that he finally gave in, he was afraid he would devour you without being able to stop himself. 

A very loud car honk jolted you both as your mouths finally detached. You were almost thankful that you were startled enough to stop, to replace the hunger in your veins with a stress response. You scrambled to collect your bag and quickly exited the cab, saying absolutely nothing, shocked at your own actions and at how far you've allowed yourself to go.

Jake stepped out of the cab after you, calling at you “Y/N I’m sorry! Please let me take you home! Lo siento mucho!” 

You were almost running away at this point, and he did not want to cause you any more stress by following you. It was clear that a line had been crossed. 

“Jake please go, I’ll walk home, please just go now…please” You shouted back with a shaky voice.

******

Your husband was a grateful man, he didn't know what happened, what prompted you to jump his bones the moment you put your son down for the night. It wasn’t like you to do that sort of thing, but he knew he would be stupid to complain.

You sucked him off like a starved woman before straddling his hips and riding him, your eyes shot with concentration, kisses hot and needy. 

All you could think about was Jake, hoping to miraculously conjure him into existence, but it all tasted and smelled wrong.

You finally were able to cum with the thought of Jake fucking into you, mumbling soft praises in Spanish. How sweet his moans would sound, how sexy he would look with sweat glistening on his pecks. 

FUCK you were screwed. You only had a small taste and it got you fucking hooked, nothing tasted like he did. You absolutely didn't want to want him as much as you did. 

******

The pain in your chest took weeks to subside, but you could still feel the slight sting of it. Finally feeling less and less guilty, although you couldn’t really quit Jake. You would bring him up from your memory every day, like an imaginary friend. Faithfull only in the technical sense, you convinced yourself that it’s good enough, that maybe that earth shattering soul crushing kiss you shared was just what you needed, that you stopped just in time before it all went too far. Truthfully you could only thank that honking car, it was the true ‘hero’ of the story, the thing that actually made you stop. 

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that another test would be impossible to withstand. Thank god you weren’t tested.

Until you were.

******

The evening was winding down, you had such a great time with your friends from work, better than you thought you would, you were in a cheerful mood for a change. It was a welcome break after weeks of nothing but work-home-childcare-bed, you finally had the evening to yourself. After three drinks it was clear you needed to call a cab. It would be a long ride, since you were not in your usual part of town. You decided to get yourself some water for the ride, to try and sober up a bit.

Walking into the bright convenience store made your eyes squint. The store was almost empty and quite large, allowing you to wonder quietly, contemplating the snack options that looked very appetizing in your drunken state.  All of a sudden you felt a tingle at the back of your head, as if you were being watched. When you turned swiftly there was no one there. As you kept walking the feeling increased, you could almost feel the breath of someone down your neck, but the store seemed completely empty. The alcohol in your blood evaporated instantly and you felt completely sober, as the paranoia slowly set in. 

You quickly grabbed a bottle of water and sprinted to the register. That was when you saw him. In the monitor above the clerk’s head, there was no mistaking that strong silhouette, but the cap was really the dead giveaway. He was standing behind the row of shelves, just out of your sight. What the hell?? Your heart rushed. Was it excitement? Fight or flight response? You were not sure. You turned on your heel, walking towards him before he even had the chance to realize what’s going on. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” You asked, your voice came out stronger than you anticipated. Perhaps you were still a little tipsy.

“Joder! I’m sorry Y/N”

“Why are you following me? You scared the shit out of me.”

“I..I wanted to come up to you, wasn't sure it’s a good idea, I wanted to apologize, for that time..”

You lifted your eyes to his, dark and hooded, he looked tired. The bright fluorescent lights were probably not doing you any favors either. You wanted to hug him, but of course you did. “Apology accepted,” you muttered quietly.

“Not like this, por favor cariño, can we talk?”

He grabbed your hand in his large gloved one. You looked down and saw your wedding band, pulling it right back. You exhaled sharply “fine Jake, let's talk, not here.”

Maybe closure isn’t such a bad idea, maybe the fact that you feel a little aggravated with him will make this easier.

You walked out of the store, he was a couple steps ahead of you, and if someone had seen you from the side they probably wouldn’t think you were together. You made sure to stay behind him, even walking with him made you nervous, guilty.

The alley was quiet and dark, the street lights illuminating everything in a dim yellow. Jake's face seemed even more angular, eyes shaded completely by his cap, thankfully. You wouldn't have been able to withstand his eyes piercing into yours. You leaned on his parked cab, folding your arms on your chest, while he stood in front of you, keeping a ‘professional’ distance as much as he could. 

A heavy silence stood between the two of you, but your body reacted to the sight and smell of him. You were trying to ignore the need to pull him closer.

“Y/N, I'm very sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it was weak of me. I shouldn’t have done what I did" 

You looked at him but did not respond, letting the obvious set before you could reply. 

“It wasn’t just your fault, Jake"

"Por favor Y/N, let me finish" His breathing seemed heavier, but he sounded almost authoritative.  

"I…I was selfish. I knew it was wrong, I should have stopped myself, I just wanted to make you feel better, soy un idiota.." 

The words you really wanted to reply sat on your tongue. Admit it already. Say it.

"Jake,I wanted it to happen. I kissed you back, 'soy un idiota' too.." 

"Soy UNA idiota..female tense" he chuckled as he corrected you. 

"Thank you for teaching me the proper way to call myself an idiot"

"Anytime, querida" 

His voice softened.

"I love it when you call me that.." 

You raised your eyes to meet his, as he took a step to close the gap between you, looking at you with an intensity and hunger, making your heart race.

“I was also weak” you whispered now that he was close, holding your hands in his. 

“You make me weak Jake” Your anger has all but dissolved, and you were standing in front of him defenseless, unarmed. There was nothing that could protect you now.

He removed his gloves one by one, placing them on the roof of the cab behind you. His cap followed, revealing a mop of thick black curls, brushing them back with his hand as a few stray ones still bounced back onto his forehead. 

You cupped his face, his stubble softly scratching the palm of your hand. 

“Kiss me” you finally said it.

One of his arms rested on the cab, cornering you in, your bodies almost touching now, his scent clouding every remaining ounce of judgment you still possessed. 

You could feel his heavy breath as he slowly ghosted his fingers on your jawline and neck and leaned in to kiss you. 

He set a slow pace, but his kiss was anything but chaste this time. Dipping his tongue into your mouth, gently sucking on your bottom lip, his lips were soft and pillowy and he brushed them masterfully against your own, before breaking off the kiss to swipe his thumb on your lips. Your tongue darted out to lick the tip of his finger as if by itself, Jake's eyes flickered and he slowly pushed it into your mouth, with a quiet moan. Your tongue swirled around the thick digit, teeth scraped it, before he pulled it out only to kiss you again, deeper and more desperate.

His hand laced through your hair, pulling gently and exposing your neck. Jake's lips trailed sloppy open mouthed kisses from the back of your ear and all the way down to your clavicle. His hips were brushing his hard length against your belly. The combination was making your head spin, and your heat pool in your center. Your moans and whimpers were music to his ears. "You sound so pretty like this querida, making those sweet noises" he said with a raspy voice, teeth nibbling at your earlobe. His palm glided down to your breast, he brushed his fingers on it so tenderly that you barely noticed it until a wave of arousal shot into your core. His weight was pinning you to the car, he slid his thigh between your legs, feeling your heat, grinding his clothed cock it into you. Your fingers squeezed under the waistband of his jeans, tugging at the belt, grabbing at as much ass as you could, pulling him closer. You began to pull his shirt out, hands sliding up his warm firm back, he shivered slightly at your cold fingers and chuckled at your eagerness. 

“Can I touch you? Do you want me to touch you, cariño?” he cooed sweetly.

"Fuck..ah..hhm" was all you managed to reply, it felt as if your wetness would drown you, your whole body felt liquid in his arms, reduced to a puddle of lust. 

He slid his hand under the hem of your skirt, warm callused palm traveling up your thigh. His lips detached from you, he was breathing heavily and studying you closely. Sliding his fingers gently over your drenched panties as your face contorted with pleasure, until your hips started to buck at him. "Please touch me" you managed to breathe out. He obliged, moving your panties out of the way and gliding both fingers in between your folds. 

His breath got even heavier as yours nearly stopped completely. "joder mami.." he muttered at the warm wetness coating his fingers. He circled your clit and then slid back towards your entrance, pushing slightly into you, repeating the motion with a featherlight touch. Your moans were getting quiet, reduced to quick sharp breaths and little whimpers. Brows pinched and eyes slammed shut. It was pure ecstasy delivered in the softest and tenderest of manners. "Breathe mami… I'll take care of you. You are so beautiful like this" he whispered and kissed you again, wanting to capture your pleasure with his mouth. 

This is what you wanted all along, to have no choice in the matter. To be seduced so completely that your ability to resist would disappear altogether. This must absolve you of some responsibility. 

The rolling thunder did not seem to distract you from each other, no honking car, no impending doom would make your mouths detach. You have allowed yourself to indulge in this, moral compass tossed into the nearest bin. 

His thick fingers slid inside of you, and every time he pulled them out just to push them back in, his palm rubbed gently against your clit, covering his hand with your arousal. You moaned into Jake's mouth, louder this time, as you felt the coil tighten in your core. 

"Tell me hermosa.." he rasped between soft kisses and licks,"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" 

"Hhm, yes.." you replied, stating the obvious. 

"And do you think of me when you fuck your husband..?" Your heart raced at the question, it shouldn't have turned you on even more, make you even wetter, but it did. "Be honest, querida, it's ok" his voice was supposed to feel reassuring, but it was laced with coercion, luring and tempting your shameful truth out of you. 

"Yes" you whispered, your voice barely came out as a pathetic whimper. 

“Mmmm” He purred at your response. 

The thunder roared again, and little droplets of rain began falling.

"We're not getting in until you cum, cariño" He said playfully. You hated the rain, you hated yourself, but you would hate it more if he'd stopped. 

Your senses lit on fire as the pleasure in your belly was tightening. You felt the drops cold against your hot skin, the weight of Jake's body on yours, the gentle slide of his fingers, heard the sound of your kisses, moans, and heavy breaths, his smell and taste were intoxicating you.

It all accumulated, building up higher and higher, until you finally felt your pleasure spill over the edge. Wave after wave washed over you. You dug your nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life, groaning into the crook of his neck. "así, mami, así" he said softly as you clenched around his fingers, pulling you gently down from your high. 

You both stood there for a moment, eyes shut, breathing each other's air heavily.

The rain intensified, beginning to soak into your hair and clothes, convincing you both to finally get into the cab. 

When you got in, the sounds of the street and the rain dissipated, it was so quiet all of a sudden, all you could hear was each other's breath. Your orgazm was still buzzing faintly through your body, but the guilt was slowly creeping up your back. 

You found yourself scrambling for something that would make you stop, but came up with nothing. What would be worse? Betraying the trust of your husband or denying yourself the thing you have been desperately craving for months with every fiber of your being? How strong did you have to be to resist this? 

Jake sat next to you, damp curls and white shirt slightly soaked by the rain.

He turned to you and placed his hand in the space between the two of you on the car seat, as if asking for permission all over again "Hermosa, are you sure? I will understand if you want to stop". 

Without his cap and with the soft look in his eyes he looked boyish, almost innocent. "You are so handsome" You said, as you brushed away a stray curl from his forehead and laid your hand on top of his, granting said permission silently, still not willing to fully admit to yourself what it is that you're agreeing to. "Please querida, I need to hear that you want this too" 

You scooted closer to him, slowly running your hands up his arms and shoulders and began removing his tie. Unwrapping your forbidden present to yourself. "I do. I'm sure. I want this. too much" you said, in a voice closer to a whisper, still trying to keep your 'secret' from him, as if there were any left.

You unbuttoned his shirt, taking your time with each button, until you were able to slide it down his shoulders, the tanned broad panels of his pecs finally at your fingertips. He was beautiful, the contour of him gently illuminated from the dim street lights.

You ran your fingers through his soft curls, pulling him closer for a kiss, your tongues swirled together at a leisurely pace. His hands slid up your legs, under your skirt, pulling your thong down. "Eres tan suave, tan dulce, necesito sentirte cerca.." he rasped as his fingers brushed on your thighs.

"You'll have to translate this one for me" you replied gingerly. 

He took your hand, laying it on his clothed cock, painfully hard under his jeans. "Here's a translation for you, querida" he chuckled, groaning softly at the friction. Oh god, of course he's big.

"Aww, is that what it's called in Spanish..?" you chuckled back, rubbing him softly through the fabric. 

You made quick work of his belt buckle, unzipping his constricting denim, tugging it along with his briefs down his strong thighs as he lifted his hips slightly.

You finally straddled him, your heat pooling in your core, begging to be filled. 

His gaze was fixed on your face as he ran the tip of his cock in between your folds. You bucked your hips at the delicious feeling and began to sink on him slowly, relishing every thick inch, every ridge and vein. "Ah.. fuck, you're a big boy" you managed a breathy whisper. Jake almost whimpered as your warm wetness covered him, sinking all the way into you. 

He grabbed your hips, impatient and needy, beginning to slowly grind you on his cock.

It felt amazing. That's the only way you would describe the exquisite fullness between your thighs, his thickness dragging against your walls, gently enticing every ounce of pleasure out of you. You raised yourself slowly, just to sink back again, and again, quickening your pace slightly with every thrust. He nuzzled at your breasts, sucking gently on the flesh he could reach, before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it up. Your bra quickly followed. Jake latched his mouth on your nipple immediately, sucking hungrily, then pressing your breasts together and lapping his greedy tongue over both nipples. There was pure concentration in his face. His eyes were closed, soft long lashes laying on his sharp cheekbones. 

For years you'd retreat to the back of your mind, pull fantasies and memories almost forcefully, that's the only way you could enjoy sex. Now you could barely blink at the sight of him. Broad shoulders and strong arms, sharp jaw, black curls. Just so fucking gorgeous.

Jake sensed your gaze and opened his eyes, staring deeply back while he moved into you. Your orgazm began to approach rapidly, as you tightened around his cock. He planted his feet on the floor, thrusting harder, deeper. He spread your cheeks with his palms, slotting himself deeper still. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, to your breasts, before he pulled you into another kiss. You could almost taste your orgazm now, and you began moving faster, chasing it, you closed your eyes out of habit, before forcing yourself to keep them open. You needed to etch as much as you could into your brain. You wanted to capture it all - the sound of his groans, the skin slapping on skin, the smell of sex, the taste of him in your mouth. Every. Tiny. Fucking. Detail. Oh. My. God. Yes! Yesss! Fuck me! Fuck! Fuck!  The coil in your core finally snapped, stronger this time, hitting you harder. Jake felt you clench around him and he deepened his thrusts, crashing his hips into yours as you moaned and wailed.  No secrets to hide, no shame, you've allowed yourself to fully let go, confessing all of your sins loudly and without reprehension. Warmth spread all over your body, flooding your limbs, as the aftershocks of your climax kept coming. "That sounded so fucking beautiful, querida" Jake groaned. Your hands came up to his face, lacing through his hair, as you began kissing him again softly - on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead…You placed gentle kisses on his closed eyes, every soft kiss thanking him for the pleasure he brought you. Jake's pace began to quicken again, you matched his movements, you could feel him approaching his high, hands gripping your hips with surprising strength, moving you on his cock faster, harder, thrust after thrust after thrust. He groaned as he spilled inside you, neck stretching back, jaw clenched ,sweat beading on his chest. He was every bit as stunning as you imagined him to be. 

He collapsed into your chest, heaving from his exertion, thrusting his hips slightly into you, coaxing some final pleasurable little waves of post orgazm out of you. 

He looked blissed out, completely content.

You stroked him, gently grazing your nails on his scalp, brushing your fingers on his temple. He purred softly and nuzzled deeper into you. You both knew you had very few last moments to enjoy this, to breathe each other's scent and bask in the tender intimacy of it all, before you'd have to go back to pretending this never even happened. "Thank you" you whispered, kissing the top of his head. You really didn't know what else to say, how to express the mixture of gratitude and guilt you were feeling. Could you promise yourself this was the one and only time? Could you resist him? This? You couldn't tell yourself this was 'nothing' because it didn't feel like 'nothing'. Maybe with time you could convince yourself it was. 

"I have to get back home, Jake" you finally said. "I know querida, i know you do."

******

The tension had been building inside of you the whole ride home, and you went back and forth between the possibility that you'll be able to come out of this unscaved and the very plausable outcome of completely ruining your life. 

You unlocked the door to your house with a heavy heart, dreading what awaited you on the other side. How would you explain the late hour you came in? Would Jake's scent linger enough to be noticable? 

And what if you don't get caught, would you regret this? Surely you'd regret breaking their hearts, betraying their trust, being so selfish with your 'needs' that you didn't even consider another solution. But, would you also regret the scorching hot, charming, gorgeous man that fucked you like that, like you needed him to? And if you regret only some of it, does it count as actual regret? Does it matter? 

Your brain was running a mile a minute, perhaps trying to prepare yourself to 'face the music' if you must. The bottom line was that the deed was done. And it was lustful and passionate and every bit as satisfying as you've imagined.

As soon as you stepped in you knew you could breathe a sigh of relief. The glow of the TV was the only thing illuminating the space, and your husband's snores assured you that you were in the clear.

You headed into the shower immediately, relishing in the hot water on your skin. For the first time in months your mind was clear. You could think about your plans for the upcoming days, your chores, missing items on the shopping list, the kind of cake you wanted to bake for your mom's birthday… The lustful beast in you was full, satiated, resting in it's cave at the back of your mind. 

Thank you Jake. 

**********

Jake

The streets were almost empty, the rain subsided into a drizzle, the wet asphalt shimmered with blurry reflections of the street lights and passing cars. 

Jake opened the window and lit up a smoke, he enjoyed the cool air that smelled like rain, it blended with your smell on his fingers. 

"Do you think of me when you fuck your husband?" He'd ask them. 

Most froze, some tried to avoid the question, some would say "no, because I don't fuck him anymore". Hearing an honest answer like yours was rare. Your precious little "yes"... your voice barely whispered it, but it was enough for Jake.

You were special. Something about the guilt written on your face made it more exhilarating for him. You never did manage to hide anything, every emotion was visible, clear for him to see. Your reaction to his smell, to his voice, your clumsy and adorable attempts at flirting, it was all so endearing. You were always so sweet, so responsive when he finally touched you the way he wanted to.

He'd tell himself that he is actually helping. Every woman wants to feel seen and desired, every woman deserves pleasure. He was just happy to oblige, to offer himself up. He did have a type though, and they all had one thing in common - a husband. Some husbands were doing a fine job, but some were not. Dormant in their lives, maybe cheating, maybe just tired. 

He would never insist if he saw that the other side simply wasn't interested, but more often than not they were. And there was nothing quite like breaking through the initial apprehension, to reach the bleeding core of someone who needed this just as badly as he did. And boy did you need it. You were starved and he had the pleasure of feeding you. 

He apologized for his advances because he knew that you needed to think that he was as conflicted as you were. But he wasn't, he wasn't sorry either. 

How could he be when you moaned like that, clenching on his cock, digging your nails into his skin..? 

Fin.