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nerdieforpedro · 5 months ago

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I enjoy smutty little fics like these where they’re a connection that’s sexual but they’re not touching each other, it’s pretty cool to me. 🥵🥵🤗🤗 And exciting! I’m looking forward to part two!

bunny - one shot

Javier Peña x PhoneSexOperator!Reader - Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, aliens??

A/N: Just for funsies. I’m gonna do a second part to this at some point in time. Is it considered a one shot then??? Idk. Enjoy ☎️

EDIT: LINK TO SECOND PART HERE

The first time you heard Javier Peña’s voice was in 1998.

Fresh off a call with one of your regulars, Dale, with whom you role played an alien abduction fantasy, detailing the things you would theoretically do to extract his sperm in an attempt to make an alien-human hybrid clone. You told him all about how you were wrapping your spindly, gray, extraterrestrial fingers around his cock, pumping his throbbing manhood, so warm, so deliciously human. From wherever he was, a wet slapping sound and shaky little moans filled your ears.

Sometimes you theoretically shoved things up his ass while he actually shoved things up his ass. Probing, he called it. Sometimes you’d theoretically take him in your tiny, lipless alien mouth while you sat at your kitchen counter and stretched your very human lips around a dildo, rutting up and down until you were gagging and gasping for air. Dale, on the other end, would start out whimpering no, don’t, I have a wife. Then as the squelching sounds of the dildo in your mouth grew wetter, faster, he would grunt out things like fuck yes, you fucking like that you naughty little alien?

Only after he came would he allow the façade to break, mumbling a thank you, telling you about how his wife thought his fetish was too weird to partake in this kind of role play. You said that you enjoyed his calls because it allowed you to be creative and… actually, you found it kind of hot. He said he’d talk to you soon and dropped the call.

Then the next call came in.

“Hi,” you purred, “What’s your name?”

“Javier,” he replied, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The dulcet baritone of his voice was smooth and sure. There was clinking and a long sip from his end, indicating that he was drinking.

“Bunny,” you told him, “What’re you drinking tonight, Javier?”

This was a fake name, of course, and was listed in your newspaper ad alongside a grainy black and white picture of a woman who was most definitely not you. Most men know this, sometimes asking what’s your real name? Or, what do you really look like? And you always tell them the same thing: I’m whatever you want me to be, handsome.

A fantasy. A shapeshifter. Custom-tailored to outfit their most depraved sexual cravings.

“Whiskey,” he answered, “How long have you been doing this… Bunny?”

As thinly-veiled as his disbelief was, you appreciated his attempt to suspend it when he said your fake name.

“About a year now,” you started off around your kitchen’s island counter, stepping heavy to let him hear your heels click-clack against the tiled flooring. That really got some men going.

The wet swallow of his throat, a slurp, then a quiet sigh. Another sip of his whiskey. He then inquired, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” you replied earnestly, looking up at your ceiling, studying the grooves of the light fixture hanging above you, “I get to talk to all kinds of interesting people.”

His throat rumbled in acknowledgment.

“How was your day today, handsome?” you prodded, trying to sus out what this man’s motive was for calling. Some people take a while to gather the courage to come out with it. A few just want to talk.

“It was shit,” he grumbled. The flick of a lighter, then a muffled inhale, exhale. Smoking.

“What can I do to make it better?” you asked, edging your voice along the rasp of your throat.

Javier took a long drag off (what you assumed to be) his cigarette, then said, “Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

You frowned and hummed in contemplation, searching your mind for what you think would make Bunny happy.

Then he added, “But don’t give me some horse shit answer like you’re just so happy with a cock crammed down your throat, ok sweetheart? Real answer.”

This made you laugh, and you told him, “Sure. Ok, let me think.”

“I like your laugh,” he commented softly while you were digging through your brain.

“Thank you, Javier,” you smiled, then started pacing around your island counter as you mulled over an answer that’s real, but not too real as to reveal the tender parts of yourself you keep separate from this job.

He waited patiently, sipping his drink and smoking.

“There’s a bird feeder in the garden of my apartment complex,” you confided as you leaned against the counter and crossed an arm across your soft middle, “In the morning I sit out on my deck and watch the birds while I drink coffee.”

“And that makes you happy?” he asked. His voice was flat and unbelieving.

“It does,” you confirmed, nodding your head as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, “I think it’s important to take joy in the small things. Like how the sky looks when the sun is rising. Or when I see a black-crested titmouse at the bird feeder.”

“A what?” Javier chuckled, and it was warm and deep and genuine, “What’re you, a Boy Scout?”

“Bunny scout,” you joked.

Heat spread across your face like wildfire when he laughed at this. The sound made your heart skip a beat.

“And, what makes you happy, Javier?” you asked then, dropping your voice to sultry croon.

He grunted at this. The sound of a fridge opening. Ice clattering into his glass. The glug-glug-glug of whiskey being poured.

You pushed off the counter and walked around the island again, the click-clack of your heels on tile sounding off every second like a timer.

“I suppose, the company of a beautiful woman like you is enough to make me happy.”

“I thought you said no horse shit answers,” you teased.

He laughed again, which made you smile, then he cleared his throat and admitted quietly, “I’ve been trying to figure it out lately.”

“Trying to figure out what makes you happy?”

“Trying to figure out what happiness is,” he clarified.

The salience of his admission struck you. You hummed to emphasize its poignancy, then told him, “Happiness is whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Javier was the one humming then. A long sip of his whiskey. The sound of a lighter sparking the tip of a cigarette.

“Can I ask you to do something for me, sweetheart?”

“Whatever you want, Javier,” you cooed.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your baggy t-shirt and biker shorts, “A red lace bra and matching panties.”

“What you’re really wearing, Bunny,” he purred, “Let me see you how you are.”

“I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” you admitted with a smirk.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructed.

You placed the phone on the counter and pulled your shirt off over your head, dropping it next to the phone. When you brought it back to your ear, you notified him, “My shirt is off.”

“Mmm, good girl,” he breathed, “Bra?”

“Not wearing one,” you told him, “I’m… topless in my kitchen right now.”

“Squeeze your tits.”

With your free hand, you grazed your breast, then pinched your nipple with a whimpered, “I’m squeezing my tit.”

“The other one, too.”

You complied, attending to the opposite side with another airy whimper.

“Do you still have shorts on?”

“Yes.”

“Take them off.”

You shimmied your shorts and underwear down to your ankles, then stepped out of them, “They’re off.”

The jingling of a belt buckle. A zip. More jingling. A soft exhale.

“I’m touching myself,” you told him as you dragged your fingertip along your seam, exploring the ridges and valleys of your sex.

“Tell me more.”

“I’m rubbing my clit,” you narrated your actions in a throaty whisper, “Drawing circles around it, it feels so fucking good, Javier.”

“Suck on your fingers.”

You did this, humming and licking around your digits.

“Are they wet?”

“Yes.”

“Spit in your hand. I wanna hear it.”

You gathered a wad of saliva on your tongue and spit it onto your fingers.

“Good,” he rumbled, “Rub your clit again, sweetheart.”

A whimper fell from your lips as you follow his instructions, “Oh my god, Javier.”

He groaned and the sound dripped down your center, hot and tangible as it pooled inside you.

“Are you stroking your cock?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“Good,” you purred, “Fuck, this feels so fucking amazing, baby.”

“Tell me more,” his voice was low and strained.

“Rubbing my swollen fucking clit, I’m so fucking wet,” you whined, and it was real, the heat gathering at your core and pooling between your legs.

“Let me hear how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.”

You slid your touch down your lips and spread your slick around, then sank two fingers into your cunt. With a shaky moan, you started fucking yourself, letting the wet squelch of your arousal sound off freely, breathing, “Can you hear that, Javier? How much you turn me on?”

“Oh my god, yes-” he groaned, “Are you fingering yourself?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, so you did, then he told you, “Put the phone on the ground so I can hear you. Keep doing what you’re doing, baby, make yourself feel fucking good. I wanna hear you make yourself cum.”

“Setting the phone down,” you told him, then put it to rest on the floor between your spread knees.

This man’s stern instructions swirled around in your head, filling you with fire. You followed the urges of your flesh, moaning wantonly as your hands worked your body, “Yes yes yes- just like that, Javier, that’s fucking perfect-”

You arched your back and let your eyes flutter shut, picturing this faceless stranger getting off on the sound of your moans, the wet sound of your fingers rutting in and out of your pussy. Frantic whimpers huffed from your throat as you chased this shimmering, golden orb of pleasure, “Yes, Javier, yes yes yes baby, I’m gonna cum- that’s it, Javier- oh my god yes, I’m fucking cumming-”

Your words caught in your throat. The strumming of your touch on your clit, your fingers inside you, the stranger stroking himself, it all tightened and lifted you. The swell of an orgasm overtook your body and crashed down on you. You released a shattered moan as your pussy fluttered around your fingers.

When you picked up the phone, your breath was ragged, chest heaving, “Did you get that, handsome?”

He was panting, too, “So fucking hot.”

“Did you cum for me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I did.”

The flick of a lighter on the tip of a cigarette.

You giggled, “I wish I could have heard it.”

“Is that right?” he rumbled, taking a drag of his smoke.

“Yeah. I think it’s sexy,” you admitted, then added, “Maybe next time.”

“When can I talk to you next?”

You gave him your schedule. It became a weekly occurrence, these calls with Javi, which you eventually were given permission to call him. He was your favorite caller.

With most of your callers, there was an expectation that you would morph yourself into their fantasies. Which is fine. It’s something you enjoyed about your work as a phone sex operator. But there was something so freeing about your calls with Javi, how he wanted you to be yourself. Your real self turned him on more than any of the bullshit.

He never asked for your real name, although you could tell he wanted to know it. Every time he called you Bunny, it left his lips with a kind of disdain. Like he couldn’t stand you pretending to be someone he knew you weren’t. He opted to use sweetheart or baby instead, which you liked.

Javier was a loyal customer for two more years, until you were hired as a professor at The University of Texas San Antonio and finally had the financial freedom to quit your side gig as a phone sex operator. Truth be told, you grew quite attached to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him it was your last call when it happened. Goodbyes have never been your strong suit.

Little did you know, no goodbye was necessary. Because it wouldn’t be the last time you’d hear his voice.

[ part 2 ]

#narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #whatsnewalycat writes #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #nerdie fic rec #queue ur nerdie

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bylerpolls · 1 year ago

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hi:) welcome to byler polls!

this is a tumblr account where we post polls for the byler community to answer. they can be about fanfictions, headcanons, pretty much anything you want to ask the byler community.

submissions are: open!

if you want to submit a poll, just send an ask, it can be anon or not. make sure you include the question as well as the different options on the poll and whether or not you want a "see results" option.

please, no nsfw polls, as both will and mike are both young teens canonically (15 and 14 respectively).

below are some guidelines/tips to submit your poll idea in the most ideal way, which will help your poll be added to the queue faster!

polls guidelines/tips and tricks:

please format your answers/options for your polls with numbers or letters if you have more than two answers! for example, in your ask, you would say:

"what is byler's favorite season? A. winter / B. spring / C. summer / D. fall"

"what is byler's favorite season? 1. winter / 2. spring / 3. summer / 4. fall"

this makes it easier for me to make the polls and ultimately your suggestion will likely be turned into a poll faster. this also helps since you only have a limited amount of characters for each option!

if you have a question about mike and will respectively, please submit two asks! so, for example, your first ask would look like this:

"what is will's favorite season? A. winter / B. spring / C. summer / D. fall"

your second ask would look like this:

"what is mike's favorite season? A. winter / B. spring / C. summer / D. fall"

tips for nerdy people:

how to avoid response bias

how to avoid non-response bias

additionally, if you are sending an ask about other byler poll accounts, please read this post:

bylerpolls is the only byler poll account i run!

please stop sending me asks about other accounts! i am not affiliated with any other poll accounts & do not wish to discuss other accounts.

that's all! thank you!

have fun & welcome :)

(mod uses he/him prns)

#byler #byler tumblr

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nerdieforpedro · 5 months ago

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La Sangria es muy dulce – The Sangria is too sweet

(Roja/red) Part One of Coasting through the Rainbow

Summary: Javier Peña considered his life good, great even. He met a man who would change what he knew about himself.

This is the beginning of Javier’s journey.

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Warnings: internalized homophobia, ANGST AND FLUFF, all the emotions, self-loathing, alcohol use, mentions of smut (nothing too descriptive), Nerdie’s so-so Spanish translations, Nerdie’s brand of humor (all of the place), Javier Peña being subject to Nerdie’s whims

Word Count: 2,587

Notes: I started this six part series for Pride month. I hope to have all parts out during the month so we’ll remain hopeful! Special thanks, hugs and big kisses to @perotovar and @julesonrecord for beta reading and encouraging me to write all of it out, not just in bullet points. ❤️💚💙💛💜🧡

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist /AO3 Link

Javier thought people lied when they said that they knew the exact moment that their life changed. It sounds like the telenovelas that Senora Ramírez always has on when he goes for his morning coffee and empanada with a piece of mango to her shop before heading to work in the morning. So grand and over the top. Exaggerated to prove a point.

All those crazy people were right and tonight he’s in a room full of them.

Earlier that night he’d been drinking with some suits from the ambassador’s office, wearing his own complete with a tie. He felt stifled and wanted to rip the damn thing off but couldn’t, so he had more whiskey on the rocks to cool himself. Laughing with them was alright, but his time could be spent in his apartment in his own company.

The group was getting ready to head to the next place, paying their tabs and dispersing. Javier used this opportunity to sneak way, down an alley where he was sure they wouldn’t ask him to tag along. The scarlet light from the building behind the bar on the next street reflected in a puddle at Javi’s feet. Shrugging, it wouldn’t hurt to look so he thought and stepped toward the light only to see a club he’d never heard of. People were gathered outside dressed in all sorts of colors and outfits, more men than women he noticed, but he figured there were usual drink deals for ladies’ night so they might be inside.

His feet carried him to the door where the bouncer looked him up and down chuckling before letting him in. ‘Must be because I’m the only one in a suit. This fucking suit.’ Inside the music was loud, the red light persisted, and Javier’s eyes were wide. It’s not like he didn’t know men dated other men. Who doesn’t know that? Javier Pena just isn’t around it. At all. Ever.

Now with the flow of the crowd, he’s slowly pushed to the dance floor in a sea of men dancing and enjoying themselves. It’s completely foreign to him what he’s witnessing.

That’s when it happens. A tug on his tie is all that it took for Javier to gain focus. A man is before him, a few inches taller than he is, bronze skin he figures, though it’s difficult to tell in this light. Shoulder length dark curls frame his face, and his eyes are light, maybe hazel or a green. He isn’t sure. Pena is distracted by this man’s lips, they’re fuller than his own and curved in a smile as the ephemeral man puts his cheap black tie to his lips that have a gloss on them, making their cotton candy color stand out against the red light. “Hey hermoso (handsome), you look lost as a cordero (baby lamb). Maybe you need a shepherd for the night.” The light dusting of dark hair a top of his lip moves with it and Javi exhales.

‘This man’s voice makes feel, feel what? Calm and turned on? What the hell is going on? Maybe I need to put a limit on my whiskey after all.’ He was going to tell him to let go of his tie, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he grabbed the hand that was still holding his tie. Pena didn’t let go, he couldn’t. His skin was so cool and felt like a godsend. When did he get this hot? Fucking suit. “No, I don’t. I just need to get my bearings.”

“Maybe you should dance and take off that jacket. Looks uncomfortable and you are. You can’t look away from me, but you feel like you may bolt out of here.” The same plush lips are pressed against the back of Javier’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you from a cordero to a borrego (lamb) shall we? Just dance with me hermoso.” A slower song begins to play, its tempo lends to help Javi think. No one he knows is here. What’s one dance?

“Alright, but I’m not a damn lamb. I’m Javi. What’s your name bello angel (beautiful angel).” Releasing his hand, Javi slipped a hand around his back, tracing his tant muscles through his tight white t-shirt. The man in white laughed and leaned in Javier’s ear, telling his name before grazing his cheek with his lips.

“You’re so close. Name’s Angelo. Good to meet you, Javier. Relax and let me show you it’s okay. Touch me, though I’ll only bite if you tell me to.” Angelo tilted his neck and undid Javier’s tie, wrapping it around his broad shoulders. “You can pull a little if you want me closer. Do you want me closer Javier?”

A simple sí (yes) is all Javier said prior to Angelo’s hands finding their way to Javi’s narrow hips, swaying them with the music. The man kept eye contact with Angelo never losing the smile he had upon his face. Javier began to wonder if he truly was lost. He’s never put much stock into over thinking relationships. Things are what they are, no more and no less. Whatever this may become, at least he deems it safe for not with this enchanting man who’s now leading him out of the club at the end of the song.

The crimson from the neon signs highlight the sweat on each of their bodies. Javier hadn’t noticed that Angelo had glitter on his arms. There had been so much he didn’t see in the club: the red dragon tattoo on his left shoulder near his collarbone, the freckles on his neck, the rose on right hand, the white jeans he wore were tight around his thighs. Peña’s hands reached down to squeeze them curious if they were as solid as they looked. Angelo’s thighs indeed were. “Let me kiss you Javi, you’ve already got your hands on me. I know you’ve been watching my lips.”

“Stop asking.” Peña ran his fingers up Angelo’s body tracing his hips, abdomen and shoulders before stoping at the back of his neck. He used both hands to pull his head forward. Angelo’s lips were as soft as he thought. No, softer. So soft and so warm. A pair of hands settled on Javier hips and he doesn’t feel like he should pull away. Especially when Angelo’s tongue begins to explore his mouth.

Javier Peña has never expected to be in another man’s bed, but he is here with swollen lips, grunting naked with a beautiful man telling him about what luscious sounds his making between what’s coming out of his mouth and his slick cock that is in Angelo’s capable hand. Peña has also never preened, tonight he does while those lips he’s been entranced by all night take him into the morning mapping his body. He knows that the lips that have tasted him told him good night before he succumbed to sleep.

Awakening the next morning, Javier should find it odd that he’s slept so well. Restful sleep avoids him like a cartel member with kilo of coke. With only the bruised memories that Angelo make on his skin the night before, he trots around the bedroom, his eyes adjusting to the light before he sees the bathroom. Using it, he smells coffee and maybe eggs, following the smell, Javi is greeted to Angelo’s ass. A few shades lighter than his back and thighs. It makes him release a chuckle before wrapping his arms around his host’s waist, placing kisses on his shoulder blade. “Buenos dias Angelo. What are you cooking?”

“Did you sleep well Javi? I should have the eggs done soon. I didn’t go to the store yet this week so I’ve got toast, butter and some grape jelly.” He responds and it still isn’t strange. Javi finds himself pushing his concern to the back of his mind as they sit down to eat.

“I did. Normally I don’t eat breakfast. I’m usually still working. Smells delicious.” Javier’s bright smile is complemented by his mustache and he notes the first time he sees Angelo blush from the compliment. “Am I the first you’ve had over for breakfast in a bit. Are you a lamb in that regard?” His mouth is wide from putting a healthy helping on scrambled eggs in his mouth and a laugh upon hearing Angelo confirm that yes it has been a year or two maybe he can’t remember exactly.

“Stop laughing so hard Javier. It isn’t that damn funny.”

After finishing breakfast, they both washed the dishes and dressed. Exchanging numbers was easy with a promise to call later. Usually an empty promise from Javier Peña but he did call once he got in his apartment later that morning to shower and go to work. They talked the entire way to work with Angelo finally telling Javier to stop sitting in the parking lot and go in to work. Peña said he’d see him later tonight which they did.

The subsequent three months find Javier in a good place, still occasionally sleeping with women, though it doesn’t resonate the same liberating sense that he felt with Angelo. They both have made it clear that for now, they’re exploring other options. However, the more time passes, the greater the time is that they spend together, giving less opportunity for others.

There’s one night that bled into the morning as many of Javier and Angelo’s shared memories do. Paloma (Javier’s nickname for Angelo as he always remembered how he appeared to him in white) had come to Columbia for work as the government was trying to building more infrastructure and needed people trained in urban planning and development. Javier promised to show him the local eateries and bars, going from place to place. Peña was well known in these spaces and said that Angelo was ‘new and learning the ropes’ as he put it. It was on one of the hillsides, Javier had asked a passerby to take a picture of the two of them, both with a warm buzz from alcohol and companionship. He couldn’t recall the joke or which one of them made it, just that both of them were using their entire bodies to laugh.

A hand was in Angelo’s hair, fingers gripped Javier waist tight. Many night in Columbia were humid, both men were coated in a sheen of sweat and glitter from a previous bar run a few stops back. In the background, above the short buildings behind them, the sky was transitioning from it’s navy blue toward the heavens, slipping into purple, red and a faint orange before greeting the buildings. The stranger took a few pictures with his phone and handed it to Javi who thanked them as they left.

That was one of the last times they didn’t argue.

It began about why Javi wouldn’t stay the night. About how Angelo couldn’t stay the night in Javi’s apartment. These two issues were worked out fairly quickly. Alternating where they explored each other did the trick. What Javier refused to budge on, was going out with Angelo during the daylight hours.

Peña’s life was excellent, he was growing to care for someone. He was always so guarded, his heart needed time to thaw from past experiences. Coming to terms to being in a relationship with another man. He still saw himself as the Javier of the past, though at this point he wasn’t sleeping with women any more as nights spent at Angelo’s didn’t always include sex. Sometimes it was just spent in each other’s embrace.

Angelo demanded more from Javier. Exclusivity and to be seen together more places. Not just out on drunken nightly raids but on sober days. Such exposure was normal for him. He’s been living in his truth for decades. Understanding that Javier was new to reconciling his sexual identity was fighting against being hidden. Angelo had been squirreled away too often by men who said they cared about him but acted like they had never met him when around others. He had told himself he would not stand for it. Not from any relationship plutonic or romantic.

Javier was different to Angelo. The bravado matched by his tenderness kept him in their relationship for a time, but close to the four month mark, his patience was wearing thin.

“Mi amor (my love), I want a life with you but I will not be kept to the night. You’re a good man and the best lover I’ve had, but I won’t be someone’s secret Javier. I refuse.” Angelo tells Javier after a night of passion after another morning has come in his apartment. They stand beside the bed baring their bodies to each other as they have often. This time, they’re not just giving knowing looks and leaving words unsaid.

“I told you I need more time mi paloma. I’m new to this. You know I care about you. I don’t see why you have to push so hard. We’ll go to brunch or something eventually. You know I work long hours at the consulate. I’m not keeping you hidden, I just-just need more time.” Reaching for Angelo, he needs him to know. To know, how much he cares and needs him. It’s just so difficult and twisted his emotions right now. “I don’t want to lose you Angelo. Please.” His dove smacks his hand away, the lips Javi enjoys making swollen are quivering as tears fall. It’s a look Peña is familiar with. No matter the gender, it is universal. The face of someone who is angry, disappointed and saddened by his actions.

“Get out Javier Peña. I have a life to live. With someone who wants me anytime and not just when it’s convenient for them. I wish you all the best. I will put myself first Javier. Just like you do.”

“Goddammit Angelo. Fine. I have a life to live too. Goodbye. I-I do care for you, at least know that mi ángel (my angel).” Javier tossed on his clothes haphazardly and departed Angelo’s apartment. They didn’t call or text. Not even a casual drop-in either. It was an abrupt end to their relationship.

Javier dove head first into old habits with as many women and men as he could. Their bodies were warm but he always left the bed cold. No amount of cigarettes or whiskey would fill the hole he had in his heart from Angelo. After six months of this behavior and his colleagues noticing that the once nearly glowing agent Peña was now a dim version of himself. Even worse than last year, it was suggested that a change of scenery be in order.

A consultant position with the DEA had opened up in DC. Knowing there was nothing for him here except more self-destructive behaviors, Javier Peña packed up what was in his apartment and moved back to the United States.

Javier decided the love he had in Columbia would remain there as he watched the greenery of the land where so much had defined his life. Deciding to try something new to mark the occasion, Javier ordered a sangria, he never indulged in mixed drinks much. The scarlet of the liquid matched the profound resentment toward how he’d handled everything and himself. “Where there’s a Javier Peña, there will be a way to make someone cry.” A sip of his drink had him pucker his lips. “Fuck, this shit is way too damn sweet. Story of my life.”

First stop of the rainbow 🌈: @djarinmuse @megamindsecretlair @tinytinymenace @schnarfer @rulexofxnines

@djarins-cyare @secretelephanttattoo @604to647 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @soft-persephone

@soft-girl-musings @saturn-rings-writes @professionalpromqueen @for-a-longlongtime @morallyinept

@connectioneverywhere @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @fhatbhabiee @yorksgirl @guelyury

@readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot @romanarose

@lady-bess @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @80ssong @kilamonster

@boliv-jenta

Part Two - Morado/purple

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier peña angst #javier peña x ofc #pride month #pride 2024 #pride fic #coasting through the rainbow 🌈#a nerdie series #a nerdie fic #queue ur nerdie

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totopopopo · 3 years ago

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Tagged by @spinalgirl !!!💖🫀

why did you chose your url? - it was a nickname my family had for my old dog, we would say it in a funny voice tripping out the syllables at him haha. he was such a good boy his name was Otis so I guess it went like Otis -> Tito -> Toto -> totopo -> totopopopo etc. Also totopos are a kind of tortilla chip

any side blogs? - no lmao I have no idea what the point of a side blog is. Like just use ur regular blog?

how long have you been on tumblr? - I joined when I was 12 so uhhh 9 years?

do you have a queue tag? - lmao no what the literal fuck is the point of a queue I find them just ridiculously dumb just. reblog the post when u see it ? this blog isn’t catered to other people idc about you fools this is for me to dump 600 posts at once and then dip

why did you start your blog in the first place? - I was uhhhhh into Sherlock. Also I was a nerdy 12 year old in 2012 so the culture appealed to me (rip)

why did you chose your icon? - Tod @alientoastt said I could pick a piece of his art for them to edit for pride so I searched their blog like a catalogue and found this one of Jonny which is INCREDIBLY good and is My Gender which is good for pride and Tod did the rest! Thank you Tod

why did you chose your header? - Mikhail Vrubel’s Six-Winged Seraph (Azrael) !!!! As y’all know for my religion major I have a concentration in religious art and I did a research project last year on angels in Christian artwork and I found this artist from the early 1900s who I really loved who did a LOT of gorgeous angels and he studied old Byzantine icons and repainted them in his youth he’s just a cool guy and I love the color palate of this one a lot!!!! I have a lot to say about it in general

what’s your post with the most notes? - I believe it’s my happy birthday trans people post from tdov?

how many mutuals do you have? - I don’t know???? Are people supposed to know these things?????? How on earth would I know this

how many followers do you have? - 545 but with your help we can get it to 666. Hail Satan

how many people are you following? - 273 but a lot are inactive I think

have you ever made a shitpost? - every post I’ve ever made was shit

how often do you use tumblr each day? - too much :/ I’m always here :// better than Twitter tho

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? - MANY, yeah. Remember when that one dude said I was homophobic , just pretending to be a lesbian, and obviously a TERF because I said Elias Bouchard was a Tory shithead? Lmao. The most recent tumblr fight I got into was about Dante Alighieri

how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? - posts like that give me INCREDIBLY intense anxiety and I resent them immensely. I feel like I have to reblog them or something bad will happen, but the knowledge that my doing that would cause another person to potentially feel that way is how I’m able to circumvent that impulse. I hate them they suck

do you like tag games? - yea I like talking about myself

do you like ask games? - yea I like talking about myself

which of your tumblr mutuals do you think is famous - I dunno tod probably is the most in terms of famous for reasons that he deserves. Although I know he doesn’t think of himself as famous and I don’t really either. Maybe Ruth @thedreadvampy bc she has notoriety as well but again, I know she doesn’t think it herself as famous and I don’t either?? She’s just Ruth my cool cool friend Ruth who I look up to so much like the into the spider verse meme and who is the reason I’m partway through s1 of riverdale (which is Compelling....... it’s a compelling show). Maybe rumi @milfkarlmarx is tumblr famous but idk if famous is the right word I think y’all are just parasocial

do you have a crush on a mutual? - I mean I’m dating Kisaiya @spinalgirl so does that count

Tagging anyone who wants to do this bc I’m abt to eat crepes and I would rather do that than tag people xxx but if u wanna do it please just say I tagged u I don’t care! :)

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internutter · 6 years ago

Note

Out of curiosity: Barry Bluejeans in the Monty Pithon 'verse?

Taako had taken the flier off of the dweeb because it was more or less a professional exchange. He, too, had been handing out fliers for Monty Pithon’s Amazing Circus and they both promised to see what the other’s flier was about. You know, the usual horseshit.

Except this dude actually turned up. In the actual midway while he was doing the lunch rush and turning it into an instructional show at the same time. Lup was down with the local crud, so he had to go solo this time.

“And that’s the chicken bouillabaisse,” he smoothed, ladling out small portions of it to the audience thanks to one of the circus brats. Anyone who actually worked in the pandemonium of the circus would stop by for whatever they wanted, but the people watching him had to add an offering to the box before they got theirs.

Bluejeans dude added a silver to the pot and, after taking a few bites, called the kid with the box back to add a couple of gold. Nice guy. This meant, of course, that Taako had to go to whatever his shindig was. Scouting forum for something called Ip Re.

He was only a hundred and sixteen. Barely an adult by Elven standards, so he showed it to his moms and sickened sister. A little of his legendary ginger garlic chicken soup saw her over the crud enough to come and attend with him.

My gods... it’s full of nerds...

Lup was still a little under the weather despite his soup, and he needed to boost her spirits. So he kept up the acerbic comments in her ear about the nerds, geeks, and dweebs that took turns up on the podium. Interesting stuff. This super-nerd called Hallwinter insisted that there was more than one planar system, and was busy devising a method of departing one planar system to investigate another.

Lup was coming up with some interesting questions about it and jotting them down. Taako kept his questions in his head. The ones that Lup didn’t think of, anyway.

There was a queue of people who wanted to ask nerdy questions. Some of them also bought books thick enough to be fucking weapons.

As they approached the desk where Professor Hallwinter was signing and answering queries, it was none other than Bluejeans man himself! He leaned over to his sister and said, “Nerd alert,” a little too loudly.

It was classic. He looked over their way, did a double-take, took off his glasses and cleaned them, and looked again.

Then it was their turn.

“He-- Yo-- Wha-- I-- There’s two of you? I mean, we were looking for a cook for the eventual mission, but... twins would solve a lot of the bond engine issues. Hi. Sildar Hallwinter. Professor.”

Lup had recovered her edge. Taako could tell by the way she launched right into their Bit without turning a hair. “Wow. So... you think all Elves look alike, then?”

“That’s a bit speciesist,” said Taako. “And listen to him presuming we’re twins.”

“We are totally different people,” said Lup. “Next thing you know, he won’t be able to tell us apart despite the obvious differences.”

He was stammering so fast that it almost made a word. “Ah-er-ab-u-da-er-ih-tha-oh-de-ur...” He was turning so red it was a miracle he didn’t bust a vessel somewhere.

Lup burst out laughing, and Taako followed. “We’re pulling your leg, professor. Of fucking course we’re twins. Hi. Call me Lup. And this is my dumb baby brother...”

“Taako,” said Taako. “From Tre Llew-Ddion.”

It was a half-hour of interesting questions, followed by being loaded up with offers to further their education at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. The very young Professor Hallwinter thought they could gain some diplomas - after a few catch-up courses that they’d obviously sail through.

In spite of all evidence to the contrary, he thought they were both very brilliant and would be shining stars at the Institute. “Now I know he’s trying to sell something,” Taako joked on their way back to camp. “You and I both know I’m as dumb as a bag of rocks.”

“Let’s humour him,” said Lup. “If nothing else, we can be cooks and get a proper education.” She had her wicked smirk back, too. “Besides, he looks like he’d be fun to play with.”

“Play gentle,” Taako advised. “Humanmen are kind’a fragile.”

If he only knew then what he’d know in less than a century...

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

#Reader Request #taz #taz: balance #monty pithon's trying circus #otp #anenchantedloom

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happyk44 · 7 years ago

Text

YFIP: Ollie, Part Nine

yoooooooo, im at fudging nine, @spacejasontodd

HAS NEVER SEEN A ROOSTER EVER

has seen maybe one (1) chicken

can't be bothered to check what part they're on for my YFIP list (laziness is a sin, ollie, and it was 5)

cares about Keef (disgusting)

thinks i almost cried when I EXPLICITLY SAID I MEANT IT IN AN EMOTIONAL WAY (fool, I have never cried in my life, ever)

thinks i care about jason todd bc i experienced emotions once for him

10/10 would slap (gently pwaps tho, ur face probably bruises like a peach)

confuses me almost every day

their entire life is confusion

daddy issues

mommy issues

sibling issues

literally has enough issues to cover every family member

defs the type to look uncool on a motorcycle which automatically notches anyone's coolness up by five points (ur like negative one million cool)

is so uncool, their coolness is negative one million

me: i gotta get dressed for work ollie: good luck!

why the fuck would i need luck for getting dressed

ollie i get dressed all the time

it's not rocket science for me

why are you like this

LAZY

won't call me daddy (offense, ollie. i'd be a great father)

claims that reading porn and looking at it elicites two different responses for them and that's why they won't read my smut but will look and send me different pornographic pics of voltron characters

ollie, my writing is not as explicit as seeing a dick physically go into someone's ass.

is that it??

ARE YOU SAYING U WON'T READ MY SMUT BC IT'S NOT EXPLICIT ENOUGH (offense)

married me and trying to hook me up with a gf

polyam for the win, bro

hates angst but intentionally went back and changed their prompt to an angsty prompt for two of the angstiest characters ever

the meme that goes person a "do you have this thing", person b who visibly has the thing "no" - that's us.

ollie's usually person a bc they are soft like a watermelon

how the fuck do u save weed tea? why are you saving it anyway?

wants me to message them about things but frankly that would decrease my problems for them and i cannot have that

"where are my effects" - ollie immediately after taking a hit of weed

im like 500% sure it was actually grass

claims to have smoked 1 weed

actually has more likely smoked 1 grass

told me they had wi-fi and then didn't tell me when their wi-fi access stopped and then promptly complained when i kept sending them data-eating shiz

u should've told me, fool

this is your own fault

honestly, im still stuck on the fact that they wished me good luck at getting dressed

im very able-bodied and also not a child

i did not need good luck

thinks i stopped tagging them in stuff

fool, relax, i got shit in my queue for you

has no idea what they're gonna do in their future

speaks like twenty languages (unnecessary)

wants to speak like fifty more (doubly unnecessary)

made a post about the fact that i sent them every emoji i had available on my phone in consistent stream

doesn't know their zodiac and astological bullshit but had the nerve to tell me i was wrong about mine (i was not so haha)

blames me for being the reason why lance is piloting red and allura for piloting blue

look, ollie, you fuck, do you think i knew what they were planning?? no??? I WAS JUST TRYING TO WRITE ANGST MY GUY

“I’ll wait for u bro” (i was going to the store)

always dramatic

hates antis but would probably be annoyed by the lack of drama if they didn’t exist

cares about inifity war and probably doesn't worry it will be a disaster, despite the fact that it has 20+ characters and stuff with 20+ characters interacting is always a hit or a miss

the saltiest potato chip

follows the politics of their government like some kind of fool who cares about the direction their country is going in (loser)

once claimed that i, a native english speaker, was speaking the language wrong

ollie

ollie, bro, this is literally the language i grew up with, what did u grow up with, polish, that's right, you fool, you know nothing about english and everything i say is automatically correct by virtue of me being native to this damn language so ha

defs gay for me

also a goddamn nerd

got excited because someone messaged them about jason todd out of the blue

i mean what kind of nerd

bigass nerd

hugeass nerd

the nerdiest of all the nerds

has comic books??? (the nerdiness just mass increases)

reblopped a post i made after it reached like 500 notes just to tell me in the tags that i was doing a good job

i mean

they literally stalk my notes and progress on posts

and i don't even udnerstand why??

are u waiting for me to get famous off a shitpost??

is ur goal here to be famous by association???

i feel like ur goal here is to be famous by association

why

they were made like the powerpuff girls but inside of chemical x, it was chemical NERDINESS

such a nerd

also got a huge dose of "cries about jason todd in the middle of the night" in the middle of their creation process

i once started to make a joke post about us but deleted it because i didn't feel it was accurate only for the post to actually come fricking true three days later

probably a meme

most likely wants to become famous by association

get on my level bro, look AT ALL UR PROBLEMS

their username is spacejasontodd, which implies shiro, but their icon has only ever been jason todd, damian wayne and lance in the eight to nine months that i've known them (petition "change ollie's icon to shiro from voltron so their damn username is accurate 2k17" is now in motion)

abandoned me, their husband who lives six hours behind them, to go to sleep. what kind of disloyalty? smh

#happy's call out posts #ollie #spacejasontodd #TAKE THAT OLLIE #also sleep well u nerd

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nerdieforpedro · 5 months ago

Text

I want you to know that I only took one bite of my pizza and drank all my tea because I was so damn thirsty reading this.

You started off with a thriller and had the woman with a bat, then we find out Frankie’s been fixing all the stuff. He’s adorable with sweet little Inez

AND THEM ADMITTING WHY THEY WERE BOTH MAD AT EACH OTHER!? Actually communicating?! Unheard of I say! 🫡

And then making up, Frankie making her and forcing her to tell him how she wants him to take care of that kitty 🐱 Like… I’m just sitting in my chair disassociating 🤗 Very happily.

I TOLD YOU! You wrote the hell out of Frankie!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Say You Love Me

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Angst. Smut. Cursing, dirty talk, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), minor D/s elements, all consensual. Allusions to drug use, masturbation.

Summary: After Frankie returned from the trip, he seemed like a different person. More moody and withdrawn. You finally couldn't take it anymore, all the times he snorted drugs and fucked up. You kicked him out and it has been months. After getting scared half to death, you finally admit to yourself that you miss being around Frankie. You decide to clear the air once and for all, getting reacquainted with him.

Word Count: 7,234k

AO3 Link

A/N: Finally stopped being a baby and decided to write and post this. Idk why this has been plauging my brain, but I enjoy it and I hope you do too. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @soft-persephone @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @superhoeva @softimgyu @eggnox

You rolled over in bed, stretching your hand across the other side and finding the space cold. Every morning you woke up, reaching out for a body that would no longer be there. No matter how many times you started the night in the middle of the bed, your body was too used to “your” side.

You sighed, snatching your hand back, and got out of bed. It was approaching midday on Saturday and you were too damn tired to do anything. Work was kicking your ass per usual and your daughter had been up all damn night crying. It took a village to raise a baby. Your daughter had to settle for you.

You looked and felt like hell. You passed a mirror, not bothering to give yourself more than a cursory glance. You knew you looked how you felt and you didn’t want any visual reminders. You went down the hall, checking in on your baby girl, Inez. She was up all damn night so you decided to postpone going to the park today. Let her sleep some of that wayward energy away.

You’d have to find something else to tire her out during the day so that you got some kind of sleep. Inez was far too young to understand why Daddy wasn’t home, but old enough to ask about him. Constantly. And hell if you knew what to say. You didn’t understand it yourself.

Your daughter needed you, so you didn’t get to fall apart like you wanted. You finally closed her bedroom door, walking down the hall once more towards the kitchen. The kitchen was open and spacious enough to feel like you could cook without too many things in the way.

There was a small kitchen island in the middle, where the sink was, and extra counter space to work. You took out ingredients for pancakes, eggs, and bacon. You yawned as you greased the pan with butter, turning to the countertop to start mixing the pancake mix.

You set everything down, reaching into your spice cabinet. You braced yourself to fight with the cabinet door, damn thing had been stuck for months, but it gave way easily. You stumbled a bit and looked at it, testing the cabinet by opening and closing it.

“The hell…” You muttered. You tested the cabinet again. Matter of fact, strange things like that had been happening for a while. Where things that were once loose or in need of fixing magically repaired itself overnight.

Were you sleepwalking and fixing things? Had you imagined that these things were broken? You remembered bitching to Frankie that he needed to stop snorting shit and actually be useful around the house. Some of that was picking a fight because it was more convenient to yell at him than admit how frustrated you were with him, life, or work.

You closed the cabinet with a frown, making a mental note to investigate it later. As you turned around, you jumped with a scream on your lips. A shadow passed outside of your house.

It was on the tip of your tongue to yell out for Frankie, that there was a stranger outside. Bastard was no longer there. Your heart raced as you peered out of your kitchen window. Whatever or whoever it had been was too quick. You couldn’t see past a certain angle, as the kitchen was tucked in the corner of the house.

“Shit, shit,” you whispered. You never touched Frankie’s guns, despite how many times he begged to show you how to defend yourself.

“Why would I need to know how when I have a big strong man to do it for me?” Your words to him echoed in your mind as you backed away from the kitchen slowly, eyes glued to the window. It could be nothing. It could be something. But fuck if you didn’t wish you had listened to Frankie at the moment.

You padded away, barefoot, careful of every creak as if the person or thing outside could hear it. You backed all the way to your bedroom, grabbing a bat. You really didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to have to fend off an attacker. Too many scenarios ran through your mind.

What about your daughter? What about you? How were you going to protect her if this thing or person hit you, hurt you, or killed you? And who the hell does something like this in broad daylight? A fucking psychopath.

You swallowed around a huge dry lump in your throat, feeling your heartbeat in every step you took towards your daughter’s room.

Faintly, there was a scratching sound. Or perhaps a knock? You couldn’t make it out. It was so quiet in the house, you couldn’t decipher the house settling or an intruder trying to break in.

You opened Inez’s room by a crack, checking to ensure that she was still asleep and none the wiser. You debated if you should wake her up and stow her in her closet or in yours. No. You needed to make sure that the asshole never made it past you. It was that simple.

You closed her door as softly as possible, inching down the hall towards the back of the house. Towards the source of the noise. It sounded louder. Or maybe you were just getting closer.

Either way, you were nearly to the back door. There was a large shadow there. You could see your locks getting turned. You trembled with fear, but there was only one thought in your head, “Gotta protect my baby.”

The locks gave way just as you raised the bat in your hand. You had a fleeting thought about bringing a bat to a gun fight when a large man let himself into your house, lifted his head, that damn baseball cap moving to reveal chocolate brown eyes and a scruffy beard.

“Francisco Morales!” You harshly whispered, lowering the bat.

Frankie stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, lips puckered in an apology. “Sorry!” He said in the same tone you were using.

A mixture of relief and adrenaline flooded through your system, making you sway. You leaned on the wall for support. Frankie reached out but you held up the bat to keep him away.

“I almost peed my fucking pants!” You furiously whispered.

Frankie looked down at your bare legs. You opted to wear a blue tank and black shorts to bed since you had the heater cranked up to a hundred. Without him as a space heater, going to bed was damn near frigid.

Heat rushed through you at the look on his face. Despite the tense situation, he still looked ready to devour you. Sex was never your problem. It’d been entirely too long since you felt his touch but that was beside the point. He was still a bastard.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. Damn him. He looked good, sporting dark jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt. The shirt was stretched over his biceps, granting you a view of his golden skin tanned from being outside. He wore his signature cap, curls peeking out from underneath.

“It’s my house,” you said.

“I mean, yes. But why aren’t you at the park?” He asked.

You stared at him. “What?”

“You’re usually at the park by now,” he said.

“Are you stalking me?” You asked. You had too many thoughts whirling through your mind and not nearly enough food. Your stomach chose that moment to growl. You placed a hand over your belly, willing it to shut the fuck up.

Frankie lifted an eyebrow and you scowled at him. “No, I’m not stalking you. I just…” he grew quiet, licking his lips and suddenly looking everywhere but at you.

“Spit it out,” you said. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. You couldn’t begin to imagine what he had up his sleeve at the moment. What fanciful yarn of shit he was getting ready to spin.

“I sort of fix things while you’re gone,” he said slowly.

“Sort of?”

“You were always telling me about things I needed to fix. And I never did. I..I wanted to make sure shit worked around here, even when I’m not here.”

You sagged against the wall, chuckling though there wasn’t a damn thing funny. “That’s you?” You asked.

Well, at least you weren’t going crazy. It was just like Frankie to show up a day late and a dollar short. “So you let yourself into my house while I’m gone?” You asked. You leaned the bat against the wall. You placed a hand over your chest. Your heart was still beating a hundred times per second.

Frankie stood framed by the doorway, sunlight hitting the back of him and making him glow slightly. He kept one hand on the handle as if he didn’t know he should bolt or stay.

“It’s my house too,” he said, a deep sigh leaving him.

“You can’t be here, Frankie. You can’t let yourself in to fix things. I have…I can call someone to come fix it,” you said.

“And have some piece of shit overcharge you or some stranger in here?”

“It’s not your business anymore,” you whispered. Having Frankie here, in the flesh, while you were half naked, was screwing with your nerves. It had been too long since you'd seen him longer than the time it took to drop your daughter off at Santiago’s where Frankie was staying.

And he caught you in a particularly vulnerable moment, missing the heat of his skin and the curve of his lips. Frankie turned wide eyes towards you and licked his lips. He dropped his hand from the knob and placed his hands on his lean hips. “Let me at least fix one more thing,” he said.

“Frankie…” You sighed.

“Just one more. And…I won’t come around anymore.” You tried to ignore the trembling in his voice. The thickness of his words and how he forced himself to say it.

You were tired. And he caught you on a bad day. You knew it was a bad idea, but you moved away and let him enter. He closed the door and locked it, giving you a brief smile before he walked down the hallway. You saw him glance towards your daughter’s room, but he kept moving on towards the kitchen.

You debated throwing on a robe or longer pants. Anything to not make you feel so exposed. But this was your house, dammit. And just because he pushed his way in, didn’t mean that you had to change anything on your side.

Frankie assessed the kitchen and noted your breakfast supplies. “Pancakes?” He asked.

You nodded. Frankie nodded. It was all so awkward. Staring at him across a chasm of pain and frustration. You’d give anything to run to his side, tuck yourself under his arm, and just breathe in his scent. Feel warmed by his body heat.

“Christ, it’s hot in here,” he said. He took off his cap and wiped sweat from his brow, fixing his hair before returning the cap. He was letting it get too long, the ends curling against his ears.

You cleared your throat and put yourself to good use by finishing up breakfast. Inez would be up soon and you wanted to get her something to eat. You didn’t know what you would do if she caught Frankie here. She would inevitably ask if he was staying for breakfast. You finished up bacon, making extra…just in case.

Frankie moved around the kitchen like a phantom, knowing exactly where everything was. He should, it had only been a few months since the separation. Since he followed his friends on some asinine “top secret mission” and came back changed somehow. He offered you no explanation. You held on to the anger you felt, the hurt, the many ways you tried to get him to open up and he never did.

You cleared your throat again, not wanting to go down that dark path once more. “If it’s too warm, I can turn down the heater,” Frankie offered.

“I got it,” you said. You didn’t move towards the thermostat. You continued mixing the pancake mix and wishing he’d hurry the hell up. You felt his eyes on you linger for a brief moment before he dropped to the floor, getting under the kitchen sink. You moved out of his way, standing off to the side while you spun the spoon around and around. Trying to ignore the length of him. His legs as he propped them on the floor. His heavy, scuffed boots.

Frankie grunted as he worked. You hadn’t seen him grab his old tool box and you nearly tripped over it. You cursed as it hit your foot, your baby toe smarting from where you hit it. Frankie gave you a lopsided grin.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” He asked.

“Focus on yourself,” you said, though you noticed it had no bite in your words. A kiss from him…you must be loopy. Not seeing Frankie helped. Not being reminded of how pretty he is when he��s sober, teasing, and open like he was before. It was easy to focus on your daughter or work, day by day, too tired to worry about how you arrived here.

“We used to have fun finding things to fix,” he said, returning to whatever the hell he was doing.

You didn’t say anything as you turned your attention to the eggs, getting it prepped before putting it on to cook. You whisked the eggs as you remembered when you first moved to the house. It was a piece of shit then, but you had fun making it into a home. Into something both of you were proud of.

“I let too many things slide,” he said.

“Can’t you fix that shit in silence?” You snapped.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

You rolled your eyes, mixing and mixing and mixing. You were scatterbrained, Frankie’s presence conjuring up many memories and thoughts. But the only one you were stuck on now, was how amazing he looked. His shirt had ridden up while he reached under the sink. You saw a hint of his tummy, so thick and luscious with a happy trail leading straight down to…

“Eyes up here, gorgeous,” he muttered. You looked up and caught his eyes and a smirk on his face.

You turned back to the stove, turning it back on, and obscuring your face from his. So what, he caught you staring. It’d been months…Months since you kissed him, held him, or felt any kind of relief. You tried after he was gone. Tried pleasuring yourself in your bed, in your bathtub, in the living room after your daughter went off to bed.

Nothing worked. It was like your body had gotten much too used to the way he took care of you, your fingers and vibrator no longer did shit for you. Asshole. Out of all the things he did, he didn’t have to take that from you as well. You’d be able to think more clearly, act better, when you got around him if you weren’t so pent up. None of this…yearning.

You turned around, ready to plate the eggs when Frankie stood behind you. Too close. You gasped, standing so close to him that your breasts nearly brushed his chest. He smiled crookedly at you, looking down, when he whispered, “Forgot something in my truck.”

You nodded. Swallowed painfully. He didn’t move. Didn’t touch you, didn’t say anything, just stood there in the kitchen looking down at you.

“Is there anything else that needs fixing around here?” He asked.

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him that your body needed fixing. Your heart too. You shook your head, moving past him since he wasn’t inclined to move. He sucked in a sharp bite of air as your body slid against his. Possibly on purpose.

“Daddy!” Inez shrieked in the otherwise quiet house. Frankie’s face erupted in a big smile.

“Chiquita! (Little one!) Look at you!” He said. He stooped down and scooped up your daughter, swirling her around the kitchen in a giant bear hug. The eggs popped behind you.

You softly cursed, taking the pan off of the stove and turning it off. Not burnt but…not soft either. You plated the eggs, turning your attention to Frankie as he held Inez in his arms.

She chattered away, catching him up on everything he missed since he’d seen her last weekend. Everything that happened on Bluey, with school, with her friends, and with a squirrel she grew fond of in the backyard.

Frankie listened to everything, rapt attention, like your daughter was providing exclusive news coverage. He asked her questions, getting her to open up more. It made your heart sick.

“Is Daddy staying again?” Inez asked.

Your lips parted but no words were forthcoming. You looked to Frankie for help, though you didn’t know why. Bastard was smiling at you. “I can’t let you eat all the bacon. I’m a growing boy, I need food,” he said. He pouted at your daughter who shrieked with giggles.

“You’re already growed up!”

“Growed is not a word,” you said.

“Mommy’s just jealous. She’s already growed up, too,” Frankie said.

You tilted your head at him but he only shrugged. You rolled your eyes. “I suppose I can spare a few slices…”

Inez yelled in victory, mimicking her father when he watched sports. He yelled the same way, placing your daughter down on the floor. He got down to her level, fixing her pjs and then tapped her nose.

“Now, I wanna see clean teeth and a scrubbed face in ten minutes,” he said. He looked at his watch. “Go!”

Your daughter took off towards the bathroom, huffing and pumping her short little legs to beat Frankie’s clock. He watched her with a slight chuckle and you watched him. You hated that they worked so well together. You started to feel like the Wicked Witch of the East keeping them apart.

You never denied Frankie a chance to see his daughter. But you knew that he was maintaining a healthy distance for your sake. Because whenever you got around him, you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or scratch his eyes out.

Frankie stood up, walking over to you. “I can make up something if you don’t really want me here,” he said.

And be the one to crush your daughter’s heart? He stood too close again, crowding your space in the way that he always liked. Frankie reminded you of a puppy, a wolf puppy, but a puppy that just liked to snuggle. Touch. Caress. Part of his charm was that he was so openly caring that way.

“It’s okay. Some payment is in order for fixing the sink. Finally,” you couldn’t help but add.

Frankie smiled, placing a hand over his chest. “You wound me,” he said.

“Better hurry before there’s no more bacon left.” Frankie smiled, turning on the sink. You waited for it to sputter like normal, shooting out water before clearing and returning to a normal flow. When it didn’t, Frankie winked at you and washed his hands.

“I still need something from the truck, I’ll hurry,” he said. He went out the front door this time. You moved everything to the dining table, getting out three plates instead of two. You peeked out of the window as Frankie climbed into his truck, retrieving a plastic bag.

The sun damn sure loved him. It highlighted his tanned skin, like the sun itself was giving him a kiss. The red in his hair stuck out against the sun. He turned towards the house and you moved on, hoping he didn’t catch you staring again.

Frankie came back in, waving some kind of nugget for the sink. You didn’t have a clue what it did but if he said he needed it, then so be it. Your daughter returned, grinning up at Frankie. He stooped down to one knee, looking at her.

“Did you just splash water everywhere?” He asked.

“Noooo,” Inez said. She was a bad liar.

Frankie chuckled. “With soap this time, please Chiquita?” Your daughter’s shoulders slumped as she went back to the bathroom.

You giggled as you poured orange juice for her and started the coffee maker. “Would it be alright…?”

“Black. I know, Frankie,” you said. It had been his standing order when he was still here. You liked doing domestic shit for him. Liked taking care of him to appreciate him for all the small ways he took care of you. Fuck, you missed it.

Your daughter returned and you all sat down to breakfast, like the good old times. You talked and laughed, played board games. Frankie told you to take a nap while he took your daughter out to the park to tire her out. You loved the idea so you agreed.

When you awoke, it was well past dark outside. You sleepily emerged from the bedroom, finding Frankie asleep on the couch with your daughter tucked into his lap. You sneakily backed away, grabbing your phone so that you could snap a picture.

Done, you leaned against the doorway staring at the pretty picture of them. Frankie adjusted himself, waking though you swore you hadn’t made a noise. He smiled sleepily at you, kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Guess we both knocked out,” he said.

“I’ll get her in bed,” you said.

“Let me?” He asked.

You nodded. He stood up slowly, cradling your daughter and took her to the room. You didn’t watch as he tucked her in. Couldn’t stand this separation a moment longer. You were weak. Weak in the damn knees and there was no solid ground beneath you.

A wall of heat preceded Frankie before he stood behind you. He made no move to touch you, just stood there for a second before moving past. He cleared his throat. “I won’t come over anymore, promise,” he said.

“I never really thanked you for fixing all that stuff,” you said.

“I should’ve done it while I was here. I wanted to do something nice for once. So you didn’t always think I was a piece of shit,” he said.

“I never thought you were a piece of shit, Frankie,” you said. You shook your head. This talk had been a long time coming. You supposed it was about time. Now, when you weren’t still so angry. Funny how a decent nap fixed a lot of things.

When you kicked him out, it had been a huge screaming match. Luckily, your daughter was next door at a sleepover. But still. You were surprised you hadn’t woken the entire neighborhood.

“It felt like…you didn’t want to be here. Like all you could think about was escaping. You were always up in the air and even when you were home, you were snorting shit or out with your friends. I started to feel like…” You weren’t quite that brave, to admit that it felt like he didn’t love you anymore. Couldn’t bear to toss those words out there.

Frankie saw you flinch anyway. He closed the distance and looked down at you with those haunting brown eyes. “You and Inez are the only important things in my life. I fucked that up, I know. But I swear to you, I wasn’t trying to escape. Never from you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. Fuck, this shit was all so hard. You were staring at your husband, at your best friend, as if he were a stranger. There were so many things familiar about him and so many things you didn’t recognize.

“Then why…?”

“Bad shit seems to pile up sometimes. So much so that the only way to drown it out is either up my nose or down the bottom of a bottle. I don’t want to burden you with that shit,” he said. He sighed and shook his head.

“It’s not a burden,” you said.

“It was to me. I only ever wanted you to keep being open and smiling. And happy, mi vida (my life).”

“That’s not realistic, Frankie. Your burdens are my burdens. Mines are yours. That’s kinda in the marriage contract,” you said.

“Do you know when I fell in love with you?” Frankie asked. He stepped closer, a shadow falling across your face because of his hat.

“Frankie…” you sighed, shaking your head. Trying to ward off his words. You didn’t want to hear about his love. You didn’t want to think about all this time apart.

“We’d only been dating two months. We had plans for a picnic. One of those fancy shits that people do because it’s cute and you just want to spend time together. Only, we got there, and it started raining. I thought you were going to think I was dumb or stupid for not checking the forecast. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.”

Your thoughts turned to that date. It was the exact opposite. You felt so over the moon about him already. You liked his voice and the cute way he meticulously planned everything and looked so nervous. It could have been a picnic in the park or running to the store, you just wanted to gobble up all of his time and attention.

“But then you stood up while everyone was running for cover and you turned your face to the rain. And fuck, I’d never seen such a beautiful person before. Never felt felt like I was in the presence of, fuck, royalty or divinity or something.”

You laughed. You didn’t want to but he was being too damn cute. “Shut up,” you said.

“You know I don’t always have the right words. But I never felt like I deserved you. I left so often because I knew I was fucking up. I knew I did. I know I still do. And it fuckin’ hurts knowing that I want to be a better man for you and I can’t,” he said.

Your chest ached for him. “I never asked you to be a better man, Frankie. You already were,” you said. Didn’t the big idiot see? He was an amazing father. A great husband when he was on the right track. He always made you feel so safe and protected. Loved. Cherished. Respected.

He gave and he gave, often at the expense of himself. He was a provider and a protector. Just because it was built into his DNA. And he thought he wasn’t a better man?

Frankie dropped to his knees. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it. When you didn’t pull away, his large hands encircled your waist. He planted his forehead against your stomach.

Softly, so softly you only heard him because it was quiet in the living room, he began speaking rapidly in Spanish. It was too fast for you to keep up with. It sounded like a prayer. It sounded like benediction. You slowly reached out and took off his baseball cap and let it drop to the floor.

You ran your hands through his curls, loving the softness of his hair. It was silky soft to the touch and you ran your fingers through it. Frankie sighed but continued. Reaching some kind of conclusion, he looked up at you.

“I don’t deserve another chance, mi vida. You’ve put up with far too much from me already. But I can’t go another day without you. Without Inez. I want to be here. I want to be the man you married. I want to be everything you ever needed or wanted. And if you’ll give me that chance, I promise I’ll do everything I can to live up to it.”

You didn’t know what to say. It had been a hard road to being okay with kicking him out. You had spent many restless nights, tossing and turning because you didn’t want him in the house and you couldn’t bear the thought of him not being in it. Giving in right now felt like giving up. But it also felt like the stepping stone to everything you ever wanted from him.

For him to heal whatever was in his heart and mind. The shadows he kept from you. To be the man you married. And here he was, offering it to you on a silver platter.

“I only want you to be yourself. Can you do that, Frankie?” You asked.

Not missing a beat, Frankie nodded. “I swear it.”

You cupped his face and kissed him. Sliding your lips against his felt like the first breath of air after swimming for a long time. Like sliding onto clean sheets after a warm shower. Frankie made a low, strangled noise in his throat before he stood up and then crashed his lips back to yours. You caressed the nape of his neck, fingers curling around his hair, pulling him closer.

Frankie’s hands migrated to your round ass, cupping it and squeezing. You gasped and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He didn’t move or press for more. Too content to stand here and make out with you. When you both were fighting for air, too lost in kisses to be apart for long, you pulled back far enough to whisper, “Take me to bed.”

Frankie growled but didn’t move. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“Now.”

Frankie smiled against your lips as he walked you backwards towards your room. You didn’t break contact, kissing, trusting that he knew where to lead you without running you into a door or a dresser.

Inside your room, he didn’t bother to turn on the light. He kicked the door shut behind him and then he pushed you towards the bed. He broke away long enough to toe off his boots and pull his shirt over his head.

You felt for him, little ambient light in the room enough to make out his outline. You would like the lights on but you liked the intimacy of the dark. Where you weren’t cataloging everything about him. Weren’t worried about how you looked or if he was enjoying himself. It had been months. Things changed. Affections changed.

You felt none of that in his arms. In the way he ripped off your tank and shorts. The way his thumbs lightly caressed your aching nipples. You gasped, loving the rough texture of his calloused fingers. A man that worked with his hands. There was nothing sexier.

He moved on from your lips, giving you a breather, while he kissed down your jaw and neck. He hooked his fingers around your shorts and panties, pulling them down in one fell swoop. You could feel the slickness between your thighs already, turned on to the max. Your body needed and craved him. So much so, you had been doing a poor job of hiding it the past few months. Even your memories or fantasies were nothing compared to the real thing.

You stepped out of your shorts and panties and Frankie pushed you onto the bed. He hooked his arms under your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, spreading you wider. Had the light been on, he’d see you closing your eyes and inwardly groaning.

You didn’t know why you felt shy, only that you did. Only that this time felt different. In so many ways. Sex had never been a problem for you and Frankie. But this felt like more. Like when you first got together and all you wanted to do was explore each other’s bodies.

“Shh, shh,” Frankie whispered. “You are gorgeous. Beautiful. Devastating,” Frankie whispered against your tummy as he kissed there.

You giggled. How the hell did he know?

“I know you. Inside and out,” he said when you asked him. He kissed down your tummy as he knelt before you. He dragged his nose through your folds, inhaling. “Still smell so sweet. Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asked.

You hesitated. Did you really want to admit that too? That you did but were unable to finish if he wasn’t there?

“Tell me, mi vida,” he said. He bypassed your pussy altogether, moving down to place kisses against your thighs. You sighed, body heating up to dangerous levels. You just wanted him to move, to touch you, to give you that relief you’d been craving for the past few months.

“Yes,” you finally admitted. The word nearly scraped your throat on the way out. You wanted to fight and tease him. Be sexy. But you were just too damn horny to think correctly at the moment.

“Did it help?” He asked. He got a teasing lilt in his voice that told you he was enjoying this. Enjoying dragging this out as much as possible.

“Yes,” you said. That wasn’t technically a lie. It did help take the edge off. But only just. It seemed like once you gave up, you could get something that resembled sleep. But you didn’t really rest.

“Liar,” he said and bit your thigh. “Did you think of me while you touched yourself?”

“Always,” you moaned as he dragged a finger lazily up the center of you. He didn’t touch your clit, not yet. He only played with your pussy lips, gathering the essence that leaked out of you.

“Tell me what you thought about,” he said. He placed his free hand on your tummy, splaying his fingers wide.

“Frankie…” you sighed.

“Tell me. I won’t say it again,” he said. His voice dropped, turning into that sexy, sleepy, bedroom voice of his that never failed to make your eyes roll back. Combined with the fact that you couldn’t really see his face, couldn’t gauge his emotions, could only rely on his voice, it turned you on in the best way possible.

You swallowed around a dry patch in your throat. You were breathing so hard, it was tough to calm down long enough to tell him. “I thought about your hands. And how big they are. And how incredible they feel on me,” you said.

Frankie hummed while he pushed his fingers through your folds, swirling his thumb around your clit. You gasped, moving your hips. But Frankie’s steadying hand on your stomach kept you locked in place.

You moaned, back rearing off of the bed. “Keep going,” Frankie prompted.

“Your fingers…feel like heaven. I thought about you fingering me,” you said.

Frankie kept his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles, while he pushed a finger inside of you. He grunted and a shudder seemed to run through him. “You’re so fucking wet, mi vida. Keep going, tell me how you really feel,” he said.

“I thought about you…tying me up. Tying me to the bed and leaving my legs free while you fuck me,” you said. The safety of the darkness let you unleash what you really wanted. Frankie had taken you in so many ways. You thought you’d be sick of it. Or craving something new.

The opposite was true. You liked his mastery over you. The way he commanded and demanded, the way he gave orders and you followed, with a little mischievous resistance. You liked being at his mercy because you knew that he’d always protect you.

You clenched around his fingers and Frankie cursed low, under his breath. “You want to be fucked?” He asked.

You nodded until you realized he couldn’t see you. “Yes, fucked,” you said.

“What else do you need from me?” He asked.

“I want you to hear your voice. I missed it. I want you to…tell me you missed me,” you said. You didn’t know how much you needed to hear it at the moment. After you kicked Frankie out, he respected it by keeping things civil as much as possible. You saw the lingering looks when you dropped off Inez, but you weren’t sure how he really felt.

“Oh, mi vida,” he sighed. He flipped his wrist and started fingering you in earnest. Before, it had been a slow glide, getting reacquainted with your pussy like the first time he came back from his tour overseas. This was something new entirely. He pumped his finger into you, adding a second and stretching you.

“Oh, oh,” you moaned and grabbed hold of his wrist, feeling his muscles move beneath his skin.

“I have thought of nothing else but you. I’ve missed you so damn much, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t focus. I dreamt of you and hated when I had to wake up and discover you weren’t there,” he said.

He curled his fingers in a come hither motion and you were exploding on the spot. His voice should be bottled and sold as the cure to any sexual ailment. With a few sentences, he had you going off like a bottle rocket. He whispered in Spanish while you floated in that gooey region in your mind, lost to pleasure. He continued to stroke that spot, wringing every last morsel of passion from you before he slowed down.

You calmed down, throat raw from moaning, and panted. Frankie removed his fingers and he loudly sucked on them, tasting you.

“There were too many nights that I stroked myself to thoughts of being welcomed back into your warm, wet heat. My hand was a poor substitute. Every day in the shower, I spilled into my hand wishing that I was spilling into your tight, little pussy,” he said. He kissed all around your pussy before planting a kiss on your clit.

You moaned and writhed on the bed, picturing him in the shower glistening with water. Picturing him jerking himself to climax, lips parted, eyes tightly closed, the steam of the shower rising around him. Your pussy clenched just thinking of it.

“I dreamed of your taste, mi vida,” he said. He followed that sentence with a lick of his tongue. You jerked and moaned, hands flying to his hair and pulling. He growled, licking you again and causing you to pull harder.

“Sweet fuck,” you moaned.

Frankie stopped talking as he aggressively ate you out. Gone was the sweet, slow pace he set while he finger fucked you. His tongue moved around your clit, flicking and tasting, and teasing between his lips.

You writhed and moaned, pushing at his head. It was too much. He grabbed your flailing hand and pinned it to the bed beside you. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, escaping your lips. You brought your other hand up and he only pinned that one as well. His big hands locked down your wrists, to the point that you couldn’t move an inch. God, you loved it.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on, cum on,” he encouraged in between licking and teasing you. You began to tense, crushing his head between your thighs. He kept going, licking and licking until you were a shaking, creaming mess before him. You managed to curb your moans, painfully aware that your daughter was just down the hall. But she slept like a rock, much like you.

Frankie licked everything you gushed out. Like you were a little ice cream cone for him. He moaned into your pussy, finally dragging his lips away. You wondered if his jaw was soaked with your essence. You got your answer when he kissed both of your inner thighs, leaving wet spots behind.

“So fucking pretty. So fucking gorgeous,” he whispered into your skin while he kissed up your tummy. He stood as he did so, moving to free himself of his jeans and briefs.

“Fuck, Frankie, I missed you. I missed you so fucking much,” you whispered.

“I missed you too. Let me come home. Let me stay,” he said.

“Stay, stay,” you said.

He stopped kissing you while he got to your titties. He kissed all around your nipples, bringing his hand up to play with your left one while he sucked on your right.

“Frankie,” you chanted over and over again while he gave generous attention to your nipples. You played with his hair, with his broad shoulders. You ran your hands up and down his back, lightly dragging your nails across his skin. Overcome with the sudden need to mark him. To scratch him. To give him a physical mark and show it off to the world. That he was yours. Would always be yours. Forever and ever.

“I love you,” he whispered as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You caressed his face, bringing him down for a kiss. “I love you,” you said against his lips.

He slid in with one savage thrust and you dug your nails into his skin, sharply hissing as he stretched you to the max. Your legs shook from finally being full. You clutched Frankie to you while he thrust, picking up speed while he rammed into you, just as you asked.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moaned.

“Can’t. Last. Much. Longer,” Frankie said through gritted teeth. He dropped his head to your chest, lips finding your nipples once more as he thrust hard and fast, pummeling you, and eliciting so many moans and cries from your lips you had no hope of staying quiet now.

He pulled out unexpectedly with a groan. You whined, until Frankie roughly flipped you over. He hiked your hips up, lining himself back up, and then slamming into you.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. He hit a sweet spot deep inside you that made you see stars as you came.

Frankie slammed into you, chasing his own orgasm as you squeezed and convulsed on his dick. You didn’t know if your eyes were open or closed. There were just the stars flashing in the darkness, a burrowing sense of relief that flooded your system and made you collapse.

His fingers dug into your hips painfully while he continued to fuck you, your essence making it a smooth glide. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing in the dark room. He slammed harder, your ass making a delicious clapping sound on his thighs.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” Frankie chanted. It was punctuated with him thrusting one last time, so deep inside of you, while he groaned and climaxed. He seemed to swell inside of you, filling in any remaining space if there was any. His cum pulsed, hot and sticky, shooting out of him and filling you to the brim. So much so that the moment he moved, it leaked out of you.

He pulled out completely and dropped beside you with a heavy, panting sigh. Your hips dropped to the bed, completely spent and worn out. That was what you had been missing. Your fingers or vibrator couldn’t reach as far as he could. They couldn’t talk and stimulate both your mind and body. You had tried listening to old recordings of his voice and it wasn’t the same.

Frankie tucked himself against you. You laid on his bicep while he curled his arm around you. His fingers trailed along your back and you hummed, snuggling closer.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

The end.

Frankie will be back! The Secret Frankie Morales Files

#nerdie fic rec #queue ur nerdie #megamind wrote the hell out of Frankie #megaminds secret files #the secret triple frontier files #the secret frankie morales files #frankie morales x black!reader #frankie morales x black reader #x black reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x fem reader #x fem reader #frankie morales x plus size reader

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littlestudyblrblog · 8 years ago

Note

your queue tag just made my day! you're just the cutest, jade🙈♡♡

omg someone noticed! it’s just a nerdy reference (if ur bothered to google it) bc I’m lame (but thank you, sheena! ♡) I’m testing it out for fun but probs gonna revert back to #q because it’s way too long!

#equaticns

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nerdieforpedro · 5 months ago

Text

Let me tease you Angel

Chapter Three of Come away with me Angel

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: 2525

Summary: Moving in goes smoothly - sort of. Benny and Diana are pushing each other’s buttons until a joke becomes a promise that they’re both looking forward to keeping.

Warnings: Awkward conversations, Benny being a menace several times (not sorry), mild violence, one instance of sexual harassment, alcohol mention, the innuendo is strong, Diana is a menace too, mild sexual content, one hair pull, tossing a body (sounds worse than it is), Benny being possessive?

Notes: I finally had some inspo for Benny! 🤗 Now I’ll need some for chapter four 👀 You’ll need to help me out on this one.

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Moving Diana into Benny’s home didn’t take long at all, a couple hours. They ate pizza and laughed about the number of stuffed animals she had. The evening brought a complication that Diana didn’t plan on. She had been vaguely aware that Benny had three bedrooms, one of them had been turned into an office. Benny balked at her assertion that she couldn’t picture him sitting down long enough to be in an office. He put her bags with her clothes in the bedroom next to his. Diana insisted she could sleep in the office and that would be better. Benny scoffed and told her she was being ridiculous while he set the very box she was concerned about on her new bed in the guest room.

“What did you want for dinner? Pizza, wings or burgers?” He asks as Diana’s eyes dart from him to her last box.

“Pizza, coke, and garlic cheese sticks please.” She answers and sits down on the bed in front of the box. Maybe if she blocks it from his view she’ll feel slightly better about it. Not that he can see through a cardboard box anyway. Is she paranoid? Yes and for no reason because Benny is not one to judge. He’d likely be encouraging about it.

“Alright which movie do you wanna watch?” Benny follows her lead and plops down on the bed next to her.

“Which ones do you have?” She knows, she might be trying to annoy him into leaving. But this is Benjamin Miller, she’s playing a losing game.

“Depends on what you’re in the mood for Angel.” If they were playing a game, she would have lost at that moment. He’d just given her a response. Basic one at that but he did not need to wipe his forehead with his shirt then. Sure he was sweaty, but it makes it worse. And increases her awareness of what she’d be using the box behind her for.

“Hallmark movie.” Least sexy option please. Diana needs some semblance of sanity. Like she isn’t drooling over her friend who’s giving her a place to stay.

“Huh, didn’t expect that one. I’ll have to stream that one. You cool with me logging into your Amazon account?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” Finally, he’s standing up and walking out of the room. She might be able to calm down now. “And Benny, thanks. For everything. I-It means a lot.” He smiles and walks back in the room, scooping her up in a hug. Diana places her arms on his back and lays her head on her chest. She really is grateful, but this might be one of the best things she’s done and also one of the stupidest. It’s the first day and she feels like this. Maybe she just needed to get laid somewhere to to the edge off? But it’s still not Benny, her Benny. Not that he’s really hers.

“You know I’d do anything for ya Diana.” A lock of his hair fell out of his loose bun that he tied back to keep his vision clear while moving. Benny’s lips kissed her forehead and Diana sighed. “I’ll see you out in the living room for the movie sweet girl.” Her new tall muscular roommate left her standing in front of her bed. She watched as he walked out, observing the efforts of his daily workouts bouncing with each step that he took. Her eyes landed on her box which she promptly stuck under her bed and crossed her arms.

“It will have to be when he’s working out.” Her hand touched her forehead where his lips had been. “Did he have to give me a new nickname? Lord have mercy…”

Benjamin peeked around the corner at his dear friend and watched as she stored one box she seemed especially focused on. He had an inkling what might be in there if she was that protective over it. He’d give it a little time or try to. Benny can’t pounce on the woman yet.

Benny to his credit, tried to give it a month. He made it Fourteen days before it happened.

He didn’t want to rush her, just kept up with the movie nights fixed breakfast and had Diana help with dinner. Miller believes that he showed great restraint in not plopping his Angel on the counter and eating her for dinner instead.

Even when she just wore that simple off-white dress for a casual Friday at the end of the second week. They had finished breakfast and were cleaning up; Benny would take Diana’s work bag out to her car before going on a morning run.

She thanked him as always for making breakfast and being so sweet. He appreciates her calling him sweet, but he’d rather make her late for work and sweaty. Recently, Diana was giving Benny side hugs that he wasn’t a fan of, but this morning, he pulled her into a tight one at her open driver’s side door. Leaning his back against the car, the MMA fighter pulled her toward his chest, making sure she was flush with him. “No getting away from me today sweet girl. I’m getting a proper hug and send off from you today.” Hearing her giggle, he knew she wasn’t taking him seriously. She’d have something to think about today.

“Benny you’re such a goof. I need to leave or else I’ll be late.” She released a soft whine, it was unintentional by the look on her face. He meant his smirk. Benny kissed her cheek first before leaning into her ear. His large hands trailed down her spine and pressed her soft body into his further. He felt them, the small pebbles among her plush mounds.

“Not a goof Angel, more like a tease baby.” His lips touched the exposed skin of her shoulder, then her neck, making his words wet on her skin. “Diana you have no idea how badly I want to make you late. Hell, call out sick, but I know you’d be cross with me.” He pulled his head back to stand up and kiss her forehead before letting her go. Her hand found the ends of his sun-kissed brown hair and twirled them, biting down on her lips.

“Benjamin Miller. Go ahead on your run and I’ll be front and center for your match tonight.” Diana got in the car and put on her seatbelt quickly looking up at her dear friend. He’s already leaned over her window, so his face is nearly inside. Benny enjoys running shirtless since it’s summer and warm. Diana would never tell him what to wear or to put on more clothes. On one hand she’s puzzled that he’s choosing today, the day of his match to make a move. But she’s also pleased that she didn’t have to do it. She’d not great at making the initial move, but maybe she had been temping him a bit with all the shorts, casual dresses where she didn’t normally wear them and touching him during movie night and while cooking in the kitchen. Diana had been the one to joke that Benny should see her off, she was surprised that he did and seemed happy to do so.

“Win or lose tonight, Diana, I get to tease you when we get home. That alright?” Hitting the top of her car roof twice, he took a step back and that was her signal to drive off, but she didn’t yet.

“Benny Miller you are so much damn trouble.” Diana whistled and drove off, hoping that she might be able to dry out before she gets to work. He’s gotten her worked up and imagining how he might in fact tease her after his match. The thoughts followed her around the office the entire day and prompted her to slip on a deep violet body on dress that flared out at the bottom, she wore brick red lipstick and wore matching red heels. They would be hard to stand in during the match, but she wanted to look a bit different than what Benny has seen her in before. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get a a seat up front. Diana was able to grab a place three rows back.

Frankie, Pope and Will didn’t see her, it wasn’t like her to miss a match of his. They called her and she answered but it was too loud ringside, so she texted them.

Diana: Hey, I’m here. I wasn’t able to get a seat closer. I’m a few rows back. Are there any open seats near you guys?

Frankie: Sorry no. But you’re okay though right? Some of the guys here can be rowdy when drunk.

Diana: I’ll be fine. I’m just mad I can’t see what’s going on. How is Benny doing?

Will: He’s taken some hits but getting some licks in. You sure you’re all right. One of us can come grab you.

Pope: We’ll dare some asshole to say something.

Diana: Ya’ll are sweet but I’m ok. Just keep me updated on the match.

Diana didn’t want them to worry about her she was okay for now. She was able to hear the announcements for the start and end of each round and her phone kept going off with updates. A man next to her finished his latest beer and and tapped her on the shoulder, “Doll, you got fries to go with that shake? I’ve seen you ‘round. Red trunks is winning but he’ll be no good to you tonight, but I will.” Shrugging his touch off, she shook her head and stepped back, bumping the woman next to her by mistake. The woman stared at Diana, and she apologized to her, whispering, “Are you alright? He isn’t nothing you, is he?” Diana was about to speak but the drunkard spoke first, “Ain’t none of your business. Stay out of it. I’m talkin’ to her.”

There was a loud roar from the crowd and a flourish of activity started. Diana’s phone went off with yelling emojis, balloons and yelling. Benny had won! She was sorry to have not been able to see him win. “There will be next time.” Muttering to herself, she went to move toward the ring since people were heading to the back but a sweaty hand grabbed her forearm.

“Now hold ur horses doll. We didn’t finish talking.” Diana pulls her arm down and gets out of his grip easily but stumbles, her feet partially numb from wearing the heels all night.

“Keep the hell off of me asshole.” Diana cursed and continued toward Benny and the crew. The man followed her and all the fighter saw was a man keeping after his Diana. Benny rose from leaning against the side of the ring and hit the man square in the nose, breaking it. Will and the others were barely able keep the man from hitting the concrete floor, concerned it might be another injury.

“Diana! Angel are you alright? What the fuck was that?” The younger Miller demanded to know, he had a blood lip and a bruised abdomen with cuts on his hands and despite the pain of moving so much, he pulled Diana’s soft body against his and she felt right in his arms.

“I’m fine Benny. You won right? I wasn’t able to see most of it. I was in the third row back. Congratulations!” Tipping on her toes, her lips connected with his briefly before she rocked back. The smile on her face was bright, she was proud of him. Benny always trained so hard for his matches and in between. He had results and another win, the widened eyes he had on his face did not mask the surprise of his expression.

“I see you’re the one teasing the hell out of me Di. I see why he was following you. I’m going to hold a handful of you on the way home. Be right back.” Benny kisses her cheek before making a quick trip to the locker room to get his stuff and head home. Upon his return, he noted her hand on her hips, “Now before you say anything about your car, I’ll take you to work tomorrow and get your car back home. See you later gentlemen!” Diana mutters how much trouble Benny continues to be as they leave, and the rest of guys are wondering when the shift in their relationship happened. Will suggested things may have changed since Diana’s staying with Benny. Frankie and Pope nodded and figured it would be a matter of time given that information. The guys wonder if things will be alright and they collectively decide to stay out of it.

Opening the door for her while still shirtless and tossing his gym bag in the back seat of his jeep, Benny gives Diana a hand with stepping up into the vehicle. He clicks the seat belt for her and rests his head, on her thigh, “Wore this dress for me did you Angel?” A finger pokes her ankle and runs up her calf. Cupping his large hand around it so the meat of her leg is in his palm, he squeezes, then shakes it a little.

“I did Benjamin. You’re not the only one who’s trouble. Let’s go home. Not here.” Diana kisses the dirty blonde strands on the back of his head, her own fingers at the back of his neck. Benny hums with her motions and he makes no effort to move.

“Don’t I know it Diana? You’re going to let me tease you all night? I might not drive you into work on account of you being too pleasantly sore.” Standing up straight, his face is just above her breasts, with his trademark sheepish grin, he kisses the top of each one. Her hand pulls him close before she realizes what she’s doing and then tugs back by his hair.

“I said not here Benny.”

“Need to show them why they shouldn’t touch you. Shouldn’t even think about it. Dumb bastards.” A small graze of her neck with a stern look to some of the guys from the match who were watching their display Miller turned to get in the jeep to drive them home.

Diana wasn’t one for such public displays but she would admit that Benny being territorial with her, showing people that she’s his. She’d make fun of others who found is sexy but now she understands the appeal.

The ride home found Diana parting her legs enough so Benny could reach between them and feel her soaked fabric. The whine she released nearly made him miss a stop sign. “Damn sweetheart. We’re getting to a bed maybe just the couch. I need you on your back so I can spread you and see for myself.” Benny was able to get the jeep in the driveway, hopping out and u locking the front door. Diana had only gotten her seatbelt off before Benny threw her over his shoulder and took her inside the house – he did place her gently on the couch before slamming and kicking the front door.

Peeps who would be fine with Benny tossing the on the couch 🛋️: @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @laurfilijames @yorksgirl @guelyury

@gwendibleywrites @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @tinytinymenace

Chapter Two Chapter Four

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