#racehorse diaz

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Two beards

Its been a long long minute. Life has not been kind to me, but although this is a little late, this is for @beccabarba birthday. This is just the start that I needed to get out, more to come when the writing fairy sprinkles me with some writing dust to help me get out of this funk.  

WC: 732

Warnings: None really, setting the story line, sorry if the one Spanish word is wrong, I goggled it.

Enjoy x

As you sat across the table looking between the two bearded men, you were not surprised that they had ended up in conflict resolution. You had 20 separate complaints from multiple judges, court staff and past jury duty citizens all voicing how both these well-educated men ended up going toe to toe either during or after a case in front of way too many people, court security being called in one too many times. Most judges didn’t want to go into a court room if they knew both were lawyers on the case and it was getting around the jury room about them, requests coming in that they be moved to different trails. You were the last stop before final steps would be taken so that they would be banned from representing clients that belonged to the same case.  

You sat back in your chair, looking down at your watch before crossing your arms over your body and rolling your eyes seeing the meeting that had only started 10 minutes ago and they were already at each other’s throat, throwing insults at each other. For two men that were so educated and handsome, you really wondered how they had this much hate for each other.

You let them get it out of their system and watched on as they went tit for tat bringing up past cases saying if they said this the other would have lost or if the other hadn’t of slept with the judge in college the other would have won. You started to tune out flicking through the pile of complaints when you noticed the English they had been talking in switched to Spanish and you tuned back in to what they were saying. Your ex-partner being Latin and you understood every word. Your eyes shot between them like you were watching a ping pong game, and the soon career based insults turned very personal, they insulting each other about their mothers and you saw red,

“Para” you roared through the room and slammed your hands down on your desk “Do you hear yourselves?”

Both men froze mid-sentence, taking their gaze from each other and setting their eyes on you. For a moment heat swept through you when you seen the intense look on both their faces and you quickly pushed the feelings away, your rage at their behaviour pushing back through you again.

“Both of you get out of my office, now” you spat.

You frowned your brows and watched as both of the bearded men stood up off their chairs and walked out, your door being shut behind them. You threw yourself back in your chair and sighed shaking your head, in your 15 year career and your 5 years in this office, not once had you come across two lawyers being this bad. You had heard rumours about Bryan, seeing firsthand what he was capable of in and out of the court room, but Racehorse was new to the court rooms in town and as far as you knew he hadn’t snuck his claws into anything just yet. You spent the rest of the day doing your research and coming up with a plan of action, also getting your personal assistant to send emails to both of theirs informing them when they needed to appear in your office again.

The sun had started to set and you were the last one left in your office, everyone else gone home. You where finishing off some paper work from another conflict resolution case when there was a knock on your door, you yelled out come in thinking it was your uber eats,

“Just sit it on the corner of the desk. Thanks” not even looking up from your screen and you kept typing. You continued to look at your screen till you heard a clearing of the throat and you looked up over your screen and raised an eye brow “Don’t you think you two have cause enough issues for one day. I’m off the clock” you sat back in your chair with a huff.

Both men started to make their way towards the other side of your desk, both sitting in the same seats they sat in earlier that day. Bryan sitting a bottle of whiskey on the table, a smirk pulled to his face and grin pulling to Racehorse’s,

“Hope you have glasses”

Tags: @beccabarba @ben-c-group-therapy @alwaysachorusgirl

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 42!

another lovely reading week! i really need to sort through my marked for later list though, it just keeps growing... a task for next week, perhaps?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! note that unlike in previous weeks, this list contains some fics that are set during season 8, so be careful if you don't want spoilers!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

drench yourself in words unspoken | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 26.2k | T

the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. Yet. romance writer eddie is brilliant, the vision!! and this is so well-written <3

lazy sunday (lay with me) | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 1.3k | G

Buck wakes up to sleepy morning couch cuddles with his second favorite Diaz boy AKA Eddie is clingy in the morning. clingy eddie is so special to me <3 this captures that soft moning atmosphere perfectly!

line | the_one_that_fell/@buckvalentina | 4.4k | E

Eddie and Buck cross a line in an El Paso motel. okay but this fic. THIS FIC. they absolutely would do the in person phone sex no touching thing. it's so them i'm obsessed

please, i've been on my knees | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 11.6k | E

Buck discovers he has a kink. this is the most recent addition to the list, i only read it this morning! and wow what a way to wake up... a good day to be me. it's sweet and funny and hot and i loved research!buck <3

pumpkin spice and everything nice | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 4k | M

Buck tries to get Eddie to accept one pumpkin spiced flavored something in his life and eventually finds success (in love and edibles). no but this fic is so right buck would love pumpkin spice and eddie wouldn't!! such a fun read!

songs and poems and promises | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 4.9k | E

“Stubble’s kinda crazy,” Buck says, “And it actually kinda drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be into that, you know? But it’s cool. Like, he’s a man, you know?” [...] “It’s just like, you know, even though it doesn’t feel as good, there are still all these new things that I didn’t expect I’d like so much.” in just a few lines this captures the firefam dynamics so well!! and the buddie is also brilliant of course. i had a great time with this one <3

stop waking me up in the middle of the night | reincrimination/@reincrimination | 2.3k | G

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle. [...] “If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.” pandemic era buddie bed sharing fics hit so hard <3 this is lovely!!

sweetheart (you look a little tired) | EiraLloyd | 14.6k | T

five times Buck tried to cheer up Eddie with baked goods, and one time Eddie tried to cheer up Buck with baked goods. i love baking and i love buddie so basically this is perfect for me <3 had a lovely time reading through this earlier this week!!

the kiss that lingers | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 10.7k | E

5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't. birthmark kisses my absolute beloved <3 soft and sweet and so them!!

too often the power of touch is underestimated | xjustlikeyou/@xjustlikeyou | 15.3k | T

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. buddie and eddiekaren bestieism what else could i possibly want <3 so good!!

the sincerest form of flattery | canadadry | 1.7k | NR

in which Brad Torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath. brad torrence is the gift that keeps on giving <3 i loved his inner dialogue here!!

touching me, touching you | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 7.1k | E

Buck and Eddie wake up one morning able to feel each other's touch. They make the most of it. i love the premise of this fic so so much, it's so cool?? and executed so well <3

what's your love language? | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.3k | E

After finding out that Eddie doesn't know what his love language is, Buck sets about finding out for him. He begins a five week experiment, one for each love language, to figure out which will make Eddie feel the most loved. this fic makes me go !!!! inside. i love the way buck goes all out to make eddie feel loved while also thinking it's the most normal thing in the world. and that ending!

you bring me comfort | thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 | 4.2k | T

Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater. i've read this so many times by now, it's an absolute favourite!! i'm a big fan of giving eddie comfort in whatever way he wants or needs <3

[reincrimination]

stop waking me up in the middle of the night

9-1-1 | eddie diaz x evan buckley

content warnings: nightmares

collection: buddie week 2021 (reposting sept. '24)

read on archive of our own

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle. Chim parts his lips like he’s going to make a comment- but Hen hands him a chip instead to occupy his mouth. “If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.”

Eddie doesn’t mind sharing the bed with Buck, not really.

The comforter is that crisp kind of down that he’s only ever had in hotels, and the sheets are some Egyptian cotton that he’d never consider buying, even if they went on sale. Eddie’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to ask, but he would put money on the mattress being one of those fancy ones he sees TV ads for. 

When Eddie bought his mattress, he went to the store, found the cheapest one, and then bought the next one up from that. 

So, no, all things considered, sharing the bed with Buck is not that bad. There’s also the added element of having another living, breathing human next to him that soothes his PTSD hyper-vigilant tendencies, and the fact that his other options are the downstairs with either Hen or Chimney- and Chim snores horrifically. Hen is fine, but he’s not totally ready for her to see him when he’s just woken up, hair looking the most like Christopher’s it’s ever going to get, and a trail of drool down his chin. No, that version of Eddie is reserved for himself, God, and, these days, Buck.

That said, there is a slight problem.

Buck kicks.

Not all night. He doesn’t do it on purpose, Eddie is certain. Yet, every few hours, a cold foot will kick against his shin, and he’ll be startled out of whatever sleep he’d fallen into. He’ll shift away and look to see if Buck is awake- he never is- and then another kick will come a few hours later. It’s like Buck is intentionally doing it, the entirety of his body still except for his legs, and only for a few moments per night; but that’s not his style, so Eddie is sure it’s unconscious.

It’s enough to start wearing on Eddie, especially after long shifts. He doesn’t want to insult Buck’s hospitality, and complain about sleeping in the queen-sized but fit-for-a-king bed he’s lucky enough to share. 

So, he shoves an extra pillow between the two of them and it’s enough to mostly stop it, except for on really bad nights. Buck got him under the kneecap once, and he swore loud enough that he woke up Hen from downstairs. When he sits up and looks over at Buck incredulously, the only clue to what he’s done is a slightly agitated expression on his very asleep face.

A week of long shifts seem to wind Buck up even more, and while he sleeps soundly, his limbs knock into Eddie at least twice a night. Eddie’s used to waking up a lot during the night, but not being startled awake by flailing legs, and he’s pretty sure the bags underneath his eyes can’t solely be attributed to the overnight shifts they’ve been pulling.

After the last of a string of shifts, preparing to enjoy a very boring, lazy weekend off, the four of them are gathered on Buck’s balcony with beers and snacks. Hen and Buck are arguing about something trivial, a movie or a sports game, and Eddie is zoning out as he stares out over the lights of LA. Everyone being stuck inside only serves to illuminate the skyline more, almost every single bedroom light on even at seven in the evening.

“Eddie? Did you hear me?”

He snaps his gaze over to Buck, who is waving a hand in front of his face. “Sorry. Tired.”

“We all are,” Hen sympathizes, patting his shoulder, and Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle.

Chim parts his lips like he’s going to make a comment- but Hen hands him a chip instead to occupy his mouth.

“If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.”

Chimney barks out a laugh, a few chip crumbs spewing out- he puts a hand up in apology and finishes chewing-, “Are you saying Buck is… bucking?”

“I said kicking, moron,” Eddie shakes his head, but a little smirk takes over his expression.

Buck remembers to laugh just in time to keep it from being awkward.

When Eddie steps out of the shower, steam-warmed and almost asleep, he’s ready to fall into the luxurious bed and sleep for as long as circumstances will allow. With no shift on the horizon, tomorrow’s looking like a great day to catch up on the sleep he’s lost thanks to work… and Buck.

Which is why he’s a little dismayed to see Buck striding around the upper loft, with blankets in his arms like he’s in the middle of rearranging the bedroom.

“What-?” Eddie mumbles, tossing his dirty laundry into the (now) communal hamper. He’s pretty sure he’s wearing some of Buck’s clothes as he speaks, and wouldn’t be able to differentiate between their t-shirts if there was a gun to his head.

“I’m gonna sleep on the floor,” Buck explains, sheet making a snapping noise as he fluffs it out vigorously. He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes, instead focuses on picking a feather out of the pillow tucked under his arm. “So I don’t wake you up.”

“What? That’s- no, Buck, it’s your bed,” Eddie sits down on the edge, leaning over to size Buck up. He’s being weird, he thinks. “Look, I was just kidding around on the patio. It’s no big deal. I’ve shared a bed with Chris enough times to get used to being kicked.”

Buck pauses, but then tosses the pillow down onto the shitty bed of blankets he’s made himself. It’s bound to be almost rock-hard with how little padding he has. Since Hen’s on the air mattress, there’s not anything else for him to use. 

“At least for a few nights, man,” Buck reasons, hands out placatingly. “You look dead on your feet.”

Eddie narrows his eyes discerningly. Buck raises his eyebrows, as if asking if Eddie’s satisfied with that reasoning.

“Alright,” Eddie grumbles, crawling up to lay his head on the pillows. “But if you’re uncomfortable, you get back up here.”

Buck turns out the light and shuffles around as he gets comfortable, but Eddie’s already on the fast track to unconsciousness.

A sigh is the first thing out of his lips when he’s woken with a loud smack. Nothing has kicked him, this time, but the bed frame did jolt. He sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes- it’s just past midnight, so at least he’d gotten two solid hours in first- and leans over to look at Buck.

The man is sat up in his makeshift bed, hunched over and rubbing at his shin. His face is turned away from Eddie, but the silver light flooding in from the windows reveal that he’s biting down on his lip, hard, and his eyes are a little shiny.

“Buck?” Eddie murmurs, squinting to see him better.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing at Eddie and then hiding his face, again. His voice wobbles as he says, “Sorry, I’m sor- shit. Go back to sleep.”

“Is your leg okay?” Eddie asks, sitting up fully and shuffling over to swing his legs over the side of the bed that Buck is beneath.

It’s his bad leg that he’s clutching like it’s been crushed all over again. Even in the gray-scale of the night, Eddie can make out a harsh, red line where he’d hit it. It doesn’t look like it’s bleeding, but it’ll bruise pretty bad.

“It’s fine, just- gimme a minute,” Buck hisses, clenching his teeth as he rubs his fist over the angry divot in his shin. He tips his chin up, blinking back tears. “Kicked the- fuck- the bed.”

Eddie reaches out and smooths a hand over Buck’s tousled hair, the movement practiced as it’s something he does to Christopher often. His unruly bed-head curls bounce right back into place after the pass of Eddie’s hand. Buck’s eyes flutter closed at the contact, and Eddie doesn’t even pretend that it doesn’t prickle at something inside his chest. In the privacy of the night, Eddie finds himself thinking a little freer, a little more honestly.

“What’s going on, Buck?”

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, looking down at Buck like if he looks hard enough he’ll be able to parse out whatever is bothering him.

“Just a bad dream,” Buck mumbles, stretching out his leg and trying (failing) to hide his wince.

Eddie’s brain comes to a screeching halt.

“Just tonight, or-?”

“Forget it, it’s nothing,” Buck rolls over and reaches for his pillow. “Go back to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“Buck. Buck,” Eddie hisses, “Stop it. Look at me.”

Sheepishly, he turns back over. His head is resting on his folded arm, looking up at Eddie with the glossiest puppy eyes he’s ever seen from anyone except his kid. He’s wondering if Buck got it from Chris, or the other way around.

“You’ve been having nightmares?”

Buck just nods. Then, he turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, like he can’t make himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah. Since the bombing, since the tsunami, everything. Worse since- since COVID, but, we’re all struggling, I figured.”

“Sure, but not having nightmares three times a night,” Eddie reasons. “Is that why you kick?”

Buck passes a hand over his eyes, scrubbing a little too harshly. They’re a little wet around the edges when he pulls away. “I’m always either getting my leg crushed again or trying to swim through the tsunami, so, I guess that’s why I kick. I am sorry, I’ll try to- to stop.”

“Buck. Listen to me,” Eddie snaps, but at Buck’s flash of fear he softens his tone. “Hey. I’m not mad. Just… why didn’t you tell me?”

A touch of genuine confusion floods into Buck’s expression. “I mean, why would it matter?”

“Because I care about you, Buck,” Eddie exclaims. The words come out a bit loud, a bit harsh for the hour, but he needs Buck to know he means them. “I want to know when you’re hurting.” Buck’s bottom lip twitches, almost indistinguishably, but Eddie clocks it. Normally, he clocks everything about Buck- how he missed this, he’s not sure. Guilt hangs heavy on his heart, tripling in intensity with every glimpse of Buck’s wet eyes he catches.

“I’m hurting,” Buck whispers, voice cracking, and then Eddie is slipping off the bed to kneel down next to him and pull him into his arms. 

Buck goes willingly, melting into Eddie’s embrace even despite the awkward angle, hands tangling in the fabric of Eddie’s (his) shirt and folding himself as small as possible to fit as much of himself in Eddie’s arms as he can. Buck’s hurt leg sticks out awkwardly, and his back aches from how he’s sitting up, but God, is this what he needed. His nose presses against the soft skin of Eddie’s neck as the latter rocks him back and forth slightly, arms tight around his middle, one palm smoothing up and down Buck’s spine.

“Come on, get in the bed,” Eddie says, voice gruff from the guilt building up in his throat. His chin is tucked over Buck’s shoulder. “You’re not sleeping on the damn floor.”

He wrestles with Buck until he’s able to maneuver the pair of them into the middle of the bed. Buck lays, curled on his side, watching Eddie with glossy eyes as he tugs the blankets up and over the both of them. Eddie ends up facing Buck, one hand outstretched and resting under the other man’s head. His fingers curl in the hairs at the nape of Buck’s neck; petting, soothing.

Buck falls asleep quicker than he’d like to admit, even as the bruise on his leg still throbs, and his eyes still sting. Eddie keeps watch, playing with the short strands of hair, scanning Buck’s expression for the slightest amount of discomfort.

He’s barely drifted off himself when Buck twitches, and before it can get worse, Eddie is shuffling closer and wrapping his other arm around Buck’s shoulders. Eddie tucks Buck’s head underneath his chin, trying not to think about the way Buck’s hair brushes against the stubble of his beard, or how Buck’s lips ghost over his neck when he mumbles out, “…Eddie?”

“Right here,” Eddie whispers, tucking his chin down to press a not-kiss to Buck’s hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Buck mumbles like a confession, curling tighter into Eddie’s grip, stretching out his legs to interlock them with the other man’s.

Eddie cards his fingers through Buck’s hair. A fond sigh escapes before he can stop it, as he tries to wrangle his feelings into some palatable words. “I know you’re hard on yourself, and I can’t stop you from doing that, but, I wish you’d give the rest of us a little more credit. You assume we feel about you how you feel about yourself, but that’s not true.”

Buck’s breath stutters, and Eddie thinks the long-brewing tears have finally spilled over when a little spot of wetness blossoms on his neck.

“We love you- I love you, Buck. I want to be there for you, but you have to let me in,” Eddie breathes. Another not-kiss is pressed to Buck’s head.

“Same goes to you, Diaz,” Buck chuckles, voice wet. “Okay. I love you, too, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie buries his nose in Buck’s hair, lets his eyes flutter closed. “I do.”

[danny-pino-group-therapy]

I’d like to sit on his face. Beard burn would be worth it. I’d walk bow legged for a week. 🥵

*not my photo*

[biyuu]

just woke up, you know what that means ✌😏 now that i have a better idea of your taste, this list should be more refined. im very glad you've been liking the mars volta so far, they're my favorite 💜

asilos magdalena by the mars volta, take the veil cerpin taxt by the mars volta, iris by the breeders, do you love me now? by the breeders, porfirio diaz by at the drive-in, black hills by the budos band, three fingers by buckethead, ugo by the dead pirates, going steady by death from above 1979*, hole in the earth by deftones, proletarian gothic by the end of electronics, woundwort by fall of efrafa, nausea & shudder by the gazettE, savior no saving by gully boys, una historia para acabar con todas las historias by helices, floaters in my eyes by the fam step, racehorse: get married! by jordaan mason, pura vida by mestís, mezzanine by massive attack, seven ways till sunday by t.r.a.m., doom city by king gizzard and the lizard wizard, crashing slow by kylesa, de-luxe by lush, okabani by the muffinz, new jersey vs. valhalla by orchid, global noise by osamu sato, d>e>a>t>h>m>e>t>a>l by panchiko, i lived my life to stand in the shadow of your heart by a place to bury strangers, found god in a tomato by psychedelic porn crumpets, mercy mercy by the rare occasions, amphetamine logic by sisters of mercy, cheer up london by slaves, chamomileon by squitch, ricochet by backflip, and i cant read any of their song titles but just listen to uplift spice like in general i think you'd like them

sorry this got so long, i 💜 music

*i don't actually know why you can't find this band on spotify because i can? maybe they're region locked or something 😭 really glad you like them though

🎵

hi 🎵 anon !!! thank u for taking the time to select songs for me ^_^ sorry for replying so late i didnt really have the time to listen to them before today !!! but i listened to them all ^^ (expect for mezzanine bc i couldnt look at the cover with the bug sorry i had to skip that !) here are the song i liked ! surprisingly a lot less than other times even though u spent so much time on it 😟 sorry </333

* death from above 1979 is available in my region as well !! i can find their other songs but just cold war wasnt there i think !

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Cheer

Its been a LONG minute since a fic post, cause life. Thanks to @beccabarba for co writing it with me, it was a lot of fun.

Warnings: Costumes, Cocky Racehorse and outdoor smut

WC: 2,235

Enjoy x

You were surprised the firm was even doing a fundraising mixer, let alone that it had a theme, and costumes were expected. You had been an intern at the office coming on two years, almost finishing your law degree and you were really hoping you would be offered a position. You enjoyed everyone you worked with, but one of the biggest perks of the job was working alongside the charming and smart-mouthed Racehorse Diaz. Charming, and handsome. Although you had both felt the growing tension between you, it was the professional thing to do to push it aside.

You had learnt so much from him. Although sometimes he could have worded things a lot better, his quick wit in meetings in his office, the way he controlled a courtroom was like you had never seen before. Sometimes just thinking about him at night alone in your apartment caused your cheeks to blush, most often needing a cool shower to settle yourself down. When the email arrived with the date of the fundraiser and noticing it was themed, you instantly jumped online looking at costumes and ordering one straight away, knowing full well with your work hours, you had no time to go shopping.  

The night had finally arrived, you were glad you had gotten such a simple costume, only having an hour to be ready after being in court all day. You jumped in the shower, quickly shaved your legs, got out, dried yourself off, threw your hair up into a high pony tail, straightened the ends, did your make up, slipping on the blue and white pleated skirt, followed by a matching crop top, clipped the big bow in your hair, threw on some white sneakers, grabbed your pom poms and bag, running out the door to catch your taxi to the venue.  

You felt his eyes burn into you as soon as you walked through the double doors. You acted like you didn’t see him, turning your head the other way to hide your reddened cheeks, making your way to the bar to grab a glass of wine and mix with some of the other interns and associates. You tried your hardest to not look over at him and keep your cool, but after a couple of sips of wine, liquid courage kicked in.

You let your eyes wander over to him, raking over his salt and pepper hair, down to his beard, that you could only imagine what it would feel like running along your skin, and lower to his white button down which was undone enough to see the top of his under shirt showing off his chest hair and finally running down his tight fitting dark blue jeans, and his brown cowboy boots. Your gaze ran back up to his impressive bulge behind his zipper, your eyes stayed there for long minute and you unintentionally bit your bottom lip up until you saw his body change position and your eyes snapped up, locking with his. Your face went bright red when you saw his smirk and he gave you a wink.

As quick as you could, you sat your glass on the bar, excused yourself, and all but ran out a side door that led you out to a beautiful garden. You started to walk down the path to find a quiet place to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. Part of you wanted to leave and never show your face again, but you had come so far and you didn’t want to lose all that hard work and it might still be nothing. You set your pom poms down and started to pace with your hands on your hips,

“Maybe he didn’t see” you muttered to yourself.

“I saw everything, sweetums, I’m Racehorse Diaz.”

You let out a squeal, spinning around, seeing him standing there, and put your hand to your chest to control your breathing after you had just had your soul scared out of you.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that” you snapped.

Racehorse let out a low laugh and took a step closer to you, now so close you could feel his body heat through his clothes, the warmth comforting you. One of his thumbs hooked into his jean waist, while the pointer finger of his other hand ran along the exposed skin just above your skirt sending a shiver down your spine and you felt your panties dampen,

“I wasn’t sneaking up, sweetums” he licked his lips. “You seemed a little flustered in there. I wanted to make sure you were ok…”

You saw his eyes flash down to your lips and back up to your eyes again,

“Wow, Racehorse Diaz actually a big softie?”  

“There is nothing soft about me sweetheart, epically after I saw you walk into the room like that.”

You felt the confidence start to build up again, bringing your right hand up to rest on his exposed chest, allowing your fingers to thread into his coarse chest hair, just before one of his arms hooked around your waist pulling you flush to his body and his other hand started to explore your smooth leg heading toward the hem of your skirt.  

His touch felt so good you felt your body relaxing into it. You’d been thinking about him for so long, and the reality of his fingers on your skin was even better than you’d imagined. But then you remembered why you’d resisted him for so long, and you tensed and took a step back. He released you, and tilted his head in a question. “What’s wrong?” he asked.  

“This is highly inappropriate…” you said, trying to control your breathing.  

His eyes registered genuine understanding of your moral dilemma. Racehorse was not as obnoxious as his reputation suggested. He nodded slightly, then his face broke into a grin. “We’re both single, consenting adults…”  

“I know,” you said, trying to stop him while you could still resist.  

“I promise I can be very discreet.” He paused. “And anyway, what exactly do you think we’re doing?” He raised his eyebrows in a little challenge. “What have you been imagining?”  

You felt your cheeks heating up again. He stepped towards you and didn’t move away, instead your eyes stayed fixed to his. Resisting was no good, you wanted him and damn the consequences. You took a deep breath. “I’ve been imagining your hands on me,” you breathed.  

He moved even closer. Now his mouth was so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your lips. “Just my hands?”

You shook your head, feeling arousal surging inside you. “No…”  

His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that deepened quickly, as one of his hands moved to press gently against the centre of your chest, pushing you backwards against a red brick wall at the edge of the garden. You felt the cool, rough texture behind you, but your senses were filled with him, as his body pressed to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. You could smell him, and taste him, and both were more arousing than you ever expected. You kissed him back hungrily, moaning your need into his mouth.  

When his leg pressed against yours, the denim of his jeans rough against your skin, you parted your thighs without resistance. He moved his leg between yours and you felt the press of his muscled upper thigh push against your core, your short skirt riding up and only your underwear forming a barrier between you and his denim clad leg. You moved your hips to feel the pressure where you needed it most. You tilted your head back against the wall, and he kissed from your mouth, down your throat, the heat of his lips and tickle of his beard sending delicious shivers through you. He tensed his leg and you gave into your need and started to ride his thigh, running one hand down the front of his body to settle over the prominent bulge beneath his jeans.  

He lifted his head when you squeezed him, and when you looked into his dark gaze, you could see the lust, the desire. You were both too far gone to care about boundaries now. He raised an eyebrow and reached down to loosen his zipper and button. You slipped your hand in and opened your eyes wider when your fingers closed around his hard girth. “I always said you have big dick energy,” you said, with a little grin. He smirked.  

“Glad I don’t disappoint. Now, give me your panties.”  

“I can’t…” you protested, remembering your short skirt. Racehorse just grinned and reached up under your skirt, hooking his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and stepping back enough to pull them down your legs. He bent briefly to help you out of them.  

“Apparently you can,” he said, tucking your underwear into his jeans pocket. Then his hand made its way up your inner thigh, whilst the other slid into your top and started to caress your breast. His fingers found your wetness, and you breathed harder to feel him exploring  you, touching you where you needed it most. You rubbed his cock in return, pleased by how he was responding.  

He leaned into you and spoke close to you ear. “Next time, young lady, I will buy you dinner. I’ll take you to my bed. I’ll let you use this pretty mouth on my big dick.” You raised your eyebrows at the last part of that, even as it made you more turned on.  

“You’ll let me?”  

“I’ll return the favour. It’ll be worth it,” he replied. “But right now, I just want to screw you up against this wall. You want that too?”

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. It was only when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom that you realised you’d not even thought about safety. You grinned. “You came prepared, did you?”

“Always,” he said. “What would you prefer?” He was distracted for a moment by rolling on the condom. And then he gripped your leg behind your knee and pulled it up to his hip, lining himself up with your wet and ready core. His eyes were on yours as he slid into you, watching you respond to the way he stretched you, until he bottomed out and you were deliciously filled and stretched. He moved his hips back slowly and thrust back in, more quickly this time. As he started to fuck you properly, he grabbed one of your hands and positioned it between your thighs, where you started to rub your swollen clit. Your other hand rested on his shoulder for support.  

His movement pushed you repeatedly back against the wall, but you moved with him, feeling your climax building. He planted kisses on your neck and your mouth, his free hand squeezing your breasts and playing with your sensitive nipples. His face was flushed with the effort of fucking you, and his eyes were on fire with lust, his breathing hard. He started to grunt quietly with each movement, and it was seeing his raw desire – rather than his normal superficial charm – that sent you over the edge.  

“I’m going to come, Racehorse,” you whispered, desperately.  

“Yes, that’s it, come on my big dick,” he managed, though you could tell he was close too. You rubbed yourself a little harder and then your orgasm burst, making you bite your lip to keep quiet as the waves of pleasure crashed through your body. Moments later, he pushed all the way into you and his hands gripped tightly as he swore quietly under his breath and came, buried deep inside you.  

You were locked together, panting, for a long moment. Then a crash of a glass or bottle breaking, around the corner at the party, made you both come back to your senses. He moved back, reaching down to remove the condom and wrap it in a handkerchief from his pocket, whilst you tried to settle your skirt to regain some modesty. He watched you and grinned.  

“Want your panties back?”

“I really do,” you replied. “This skirt wasn’t designed for going commando. You either give me the panties or I’m going to have to leave.”

He chuckled and reached into his pocket, holding your underwear out to you. “You can have them back if you promise to have dinner with me. On Monday night.”

“I’m not sure I…” you began.  

“Come on, dinner can’t be worse than fucking me against a wall at a party,” he said. He wasn’t wrong, and it was too tempting to refuse.  

“OK, you have a deal.” You took the underwear and put it back on. When you straightened, you met his eyes again. He still looked aroused, and amused.  

“Of course, I expect you to be completely professional at work,” he said, lightly. “No matter what.”

“No matter what?” you wondered what kind of teasing he might have in mind. The way his eyes danced made you want it.  

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed your chin between his thumb and finger, tipping your head backwards gently. His eyes glinted with fun as he leaned in to kiss you lightly on the lips.  

“I’ll see you Monday, sweetums,” he said softly. As he pulled back, he gave you a wink, before turning to head back to the party.  

Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @gillysoldlady @ben-c-group-therapy @sassyada @thatesqcrush @berniesilvas

[reincrimination]

stay the course: ch. 1 | buddie

9-1-1 | eddie diaz x evan buckley

a buddie equestrian AU

cw: none!

you are here! -> chapter 2

read on archive of our own!

“That was Taylor Kelly and Smile for the Camera given the all-clear by the vets,” says the announcer, a thick British accent immediately distinguishable. “Next up is- well, I’d say infamous, but that would imply that people like him. Next up is Evan Buckley- or Buck, as he requests we all call him- and his French-bred mount Saint Francis.” Eddie finally feels a little less stranded when he sees the similarly-young face of- uh, Buck?- jog down the path. Clad in gray plaid pants and a black sweater, the young man looks like a panther next to his tall, lanky white horse. The black of the horse’s bridle is the only thing that matches Buck, the rest a stark contrast. Buck may be under-dressed by comparison to the other riders, but the gleaming white-grey of his horse’s coat is near blinding. Its’ mane is tacked up into bobbles atop its neck, so tight they look like they hurt, and its tail is whiter than chalk and flouncing like a waterfall as they parade down the path. Eddie knows nothing about horses but he can tell that this is a proud one by the way he picks up his knees and flags his tail at the end of his jog.

Eddie knows why his father wanted to get into the equestrian world- fame. Everything Ramon Diaz does is for fame, after all, but Eddie had clearly missed the memo on just how pompous the higher levels of the equestrian world was. Though, Eddie had missed the memo on just about everything equestrian, not even having ever seen a horse beyond trips to the racetrack with his father in years prior. His father’s tastes had evolved from betting on racehorses, and now, a decade and Eddie’s own failed marriage later, he’s accompanying his father on a cross-continential trip to the 2024 Badminton Horse Trials in London, England.

Although the one-on-one time with his father should be enough to make Eddie want to pull his hair out (but not too much, lest the press catch wind of a bald spot), he would have been ridiculous to pass up an all-expenses paid trip to the Badminton trials as a VIP spectator. At least, that’s what he tells himself, which is easier than admitting the fact that he really did not have a choice in whether or not he attended.

Since his divorce, he had moved back in with his family for the sake of his son, Chris, who he has full custody of. As much as he loves his son, he can’t raise him on his own, especially since he had been working as a firefighter prior to the divorce. He had carved out a life for himself, far away from his father, where the only things that mattered were his son, his wife, and his job, in that order, too. However, with Shannon in the wind, Eddie had to put his own wants on hold (as always) and realize that being a single father in Los Angeles with a special needs son was not plausible, even on a firefighter’s not-scanty salary.

So, he’d eaten his pride and obliged his father’s request for him and Christopher to move back in with their family in El Paso, Texas. It had only been a few weeks since they’d been back, and Eddie was- well, he wasn’t really sure what was next. His father was supporting him and Chris financially, so he had time to figure out what he wanted to do. However, that meant he owed a substantial debt to his father- figuratively, of course, as he could never financially repay any sum considering he is now unemployed- and so what his father says tends to go, now. That’s how Eddie had found himself saying farewell to Christopher, set up for a week at his Abuela’s house, and getting on a flight to London.

Regardless, he had touched down in London some hours ago, and now he is nursing an icy cold mixed drink in one hand while he stares down a packed dirt fence lined with white fences and elaborate floral arrangements. On one side, the sandy expense of the show jumping arena stretches, untrodden thus far and glistening in the rare England sunlight. On the other side of the path, rows of spectators and press line the plastic blue chairs for as far as Eddie can see.

A perk of his father’s status as an owner of one of the competing horses means that Eddie, too, is afforded VIP status, and as such, stands just behind one of those white fences, with an uninterrupted view of the dirt path. Towards the other set of spectator bleachers, the announcer’s box and the in-gate lie, whereabouts tens of pairs of horses and handlers are milling.

Now, if Eddie had thought his father wearing a three-piece name-brand suit to the- what’s it called again? The inspection?- was excessive, then he really needed to keep his mouth shut about the others here. There was not a pair of were in sight, and each handler’s outfit was at least as expensive as their horse, and they are not cheap horses. 

The hum of conversation is loud, the excitable energy high in the air as the announcer begins his commentary of what he began to call “the jog”. 

Eddie quickly realizes why it is called “the jog” when a horse-and-handler pair does just that, along the entire length of the packed dirt track, leaving the first of at least fifty pairs of hoofprints that the soil would see today.

Eddie barely knows where to look, so far out of his depth he may as well be swimming in the ocean during a storm. Is he supposed to know who the brunette woman is, running alongside an absolutely giant brown horse? The horse has an attitude, Eddie notices, as it tosses its large head in excitement as its handler leads it off the end of the path at the conclusion of their jog.

His father nudges him in the upper arm, jostling his sweating drink and almost sending the caramel droplets onto his cream sweater, a mistake that would be problematic for such a highly-publicized event. As Eddie leans in to hear whatever his father had to say, he makes eye contact with a camera that’s panning the length of the arena. Despite having grown up in the spotlight, Eddie had never quite gotten used to the cold, gaping eye of a camera lens.

“There they are,” the elder Diaz says, before beginning to clap loudly for the next pair heading down the path.

A lighter, richer-colored brown horse and a red-headed woman make their way down the path. The woman is wearing a red pantsuit that Eddie thinks could cover all of Chris’s college tuition. “Taylor Kelly,” Ramon says. “Remember that name. She’s ours.”

Ah. The whole reason Eddie and his father are in London to begin with: his father had used his seemingly-endlessly-multiplying millions to sponsor a horse and rider team. The sponsorship was apparently a big deal, as Kelly usually rides for herself and team USA, not needing a sponsor, but the undisclosed sum that Eddie’s father had negotiated with her family had been enough to get a pin of the Diaz company logo onto the lapel of her expensive suit. Now, Taylor Kelly was riding for the Diazes as much as they are riding for team USA, though the elder Diaz would consider them to be one and the same.

The hand not being used to hold Eddie’s drink is suddenly grasped by his father’s cold fingers, and a black ear-piece is pressed into his palm. He wiggles it into his ear and it crackles to life, the previously muffled voice of the announcer now coming through loud and clear as the next pair approach the path.

“That was Taylor Kelly and Smile for the Camera given the all-clear by the vets,” says the announcer, a thick British accent immediately distinguishable. “Next up is- well, I’d say infamous, but that would imply that people like him. Next up is Evan Buckley- or Buck, as he requests we all call him- and his French-bred mount Saint Francis.”

Eddie finally feels a little less stranded when he sees the similarly-young face of- uh, Buck?- jog down the path. Clad in gray plaid pants and a black sweater, the young man looks like a panther next to his tall, lanky white horse. The black of the horse’s bridle is the only thing that matches Buck, the rest a stark contrast. 

Buck may be under-dressed by comparison to the other riders, but the gleaming white-grey of his horse’s coat is near blinding. Its’ mane is tacked up into bobbles atop its neck, so tight they look like they hurt, and its tail is whiter than chalk and flouncing like a waterfall as they parade down the path. Eddie knows nothing about horses but he can tell that this is a proud one by the way he picks up his knees and flags his tail at the end of his jog. 

Before he and Buck exit the path, the horse nudges Buck’s shoulder with his pink and white nose. Buck gives his companion a rueful smile in response, but thats all. He seems a bit subdued compared to the other handlers, less comfortable on camera, maybe- which Eddie could definitely relate to. 

“I can’t say it’s unusual for the horse to outdo the rider in terms of notability, but normally it’s a closer competition than it is here. Regardless, Buck and Saint Florian are clear for the Badminton trials.” They’re graced with a courteous bit of scattered applause, before they brush right past the Diazes and emerge out into the arena, where horses, riders, and grooms of all countries seem to be mingling. Eddie watches Buck go, the blonde hair atop his head an unusual sight compared to a sea of brunette, gray, or raven-haired riders- not counting Taylor Kelly’s bright red hair, which was also an outlier.

As Eddie watches, a pair of brown horses nudge at each other’s withers in what seems to be a friendly manner, considering how their owners gush, and someone snaps a photo.

“Disgrace he is, that ‘Buck’ boy,” Ramon tsks, leaving Eddie no time to ask questions before the announcer booms out the names of the next pair. Freddie Costas and his horse Rigged to Blow make their way through the jog. “Now that’s a fine looking rider, is he not?”

Clad in a dark green coat and white pants, the rider makes his way out into the arena with an all-clear from the vets, as well. While most other riders are still mingling with other members of their team, Eddie can’t help but notice how Buck does not mingle, but rather, has begun to make his way out of sight and back to what Eddie assumes would be the stables. Eddie turns around enough to watch the boy recede, his white horse walking gracefully beside him. However, before he ducks out of view, Freddie Costas catches up, and the pair exchange an amicable handshake before they both depart.

Ramon and the announcer both seem to be a bit less fond of Buck than Eddie finds himself beginning to be. Why he’s taken a liking to the boy after a five minute appearance is a mystery, and, he realizes, probably just another unconscious rebellion against his father. Despite that, at the end of the arduously-long inspection of eighty-seven horses, Eddie has to admit that Buck is still his favorite of the group.

That admission earns a hearty chuckle from his father, and a firm clap on the back that is as much a warning as it is a fatherly gesture for the cameras. “Funny one, you are,” Ramon grits out, before giving a friendly wave to the sea of reporters and ushering Eddie in their direction.

Like a good son, Eddie stands stoic and handsome for the cameras, flashing a smile at whatever reporter snaps a photo of him and his famous father together. His hand is damp from the condensation of his drink, and when the cameras aren’t looking, he quickly downs the rest of it before handing the cup to a waiter who was weaving through the crowd with a tray balanced on one hand.

The sun is just about heading for the horizon, the tops of trees and hills visible over the edge of the tall rows of bleachers. An orange glow was beginning to bathe the arena, and photographers took advantage of the lighting to snap some more photos of the horses and riders. While his father talks to a reporter from Horse & Country about his hopes for Taylor Kelly this week, Eddie lets his eyes drift over the crowd. It’s slowly dispersing as the post-jog interviews conclude, most of the big names from Britain, the USA, Canada, Germany, and the Netherlands having already left. The other countries seem to have fewer spectators in London this week. As Eddie watches, a pair of British riders take their horses down towards the stables to the tune of enthusiastic applause from the strong local contingent here at Badminton.

Team USA seems to have gathered in the arena for a photo opportunity, and some words with reporters, but that blonde hair Eddie is looking for is absent. He’s so engrossed in the search, watching who he thinks is a groom quickly fix the braids of one of the horses, that he startles when his father pats him on the shoulder.

“Come on, I have someone for you to say hello to,” his father says with a nod. Eddie steels himself, straightening his posture as he and his father pick their way through the crowd and out towards the expansive area of the in-gate.

Eddie smiles when he sees who, exactly, his father was taking him to see. The Hans, a respectable looking family who look very comfortable amidst the horses passing on either side of them, spot the Diazes and wave. He and the Hans’ son, a slightly older man who goes by Chimney, had been childhood friends. They had spent many an afternoon sat on a boring golf course with Chim, talking about everything other than what their families had been up to while their fathers had golfed together.

Chimney looks relieved to see Eddie as well, sporting a grin as he extends a hand to him. Eddie takes his hand for a brief, formal shake before using it to pull Chim into a hug, clapping him on the back as the other man laughs.

“So glad to see you,” Eddie says, and to his father it sounds like a regular greeting, but Chimney knows that it’s more of a “Thank God you’re here”. The other man gets the message and gives Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze before they separate.

Eddie gives both of Chimney’s parents a handshake and an awkward nod before his father claps his hands proudly and announces, “We’ll be joining the Hans for dinner with their rider tonight.”

“Your rider?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, looking to Chim for confirmation, who wiggles his own brows in excitement.

“Oh, I think you’ll like him.”

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Need both of them to be requesting "your ass" they'll only need to ask once 😍

All the times Bryan Kneef says ass

The Good Fight 4.04 (“The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It”)

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Risky Business.

For: @storiesofsvu Birthday Bingo. Happy Birthday and thank you for doing a bingo for it.

Square: Your mine and I don’t share .

Pairing: Racehorse Diaz x reader

WC: 488

Warnings: Just Racehorse being himself. Fluffy. Slight swears

Enjoy x

You were smart and were great at what you did. Becoming a partner at the firm beside the one and only Racehorse Diaz, most people trembled when you walked into a court room knowing how cut throat you were for your clients, and you almost never lost a case. The work load that was in had been crushing you, late nights where turning into weekends, your whole life was your work. One late night with a tricky case turned into Racehorse going down on you on your desk, which in turn, turned into ‘Blowing off steam’ at least 3 times a week. You couldn’t date cause of the work load and the over time, but it was finally a weekend that you had put your foot down and told him that you needed a break. You managed to line up dinner with a guy that had been waiting so patiently to take you out and you finally had the time to do so.

The date had gone amazing so far, you felt cute, he was handsome, the conversation was flowing great and the food was amazing. You were in the middle of a conversation when you heard a laugh that you knew anywhere, looking over your dates shoulder to Racehorse walking in with two other men, and they were seated at a table across from yours, Racehorse sitting directly in your eye line.

You weren’t quick enough to look away when his eyes caught yours, a smirk pulling to his face and very quickly disappearing when his eyes moved to the back of your dates head and he looked away from you. To your surprise, your heart sunk and your attitude changed immediately. You excused yourself from the table, rushing towards the restrooms. You hadn’t realised he was behind you till you felt his hand on your elbow and he pulled you to the handy cap restroom and locked the door behind you both. You stood there with your mouth slightly a jar,

“Having a nice date sweetums?”

“Ah-“ you shrugged your shoulders.

A smirk pulled to his face and he started to walk towards you, a hand going on your hip and he ghosted your lips,

“If I had known you wanted to be wined and dined, I would have made more of an effort and not just fucked you in my office every chance I got”

“I didn’t take you for the dating type, Racehorse” you shot back with a grin and you saw the sparkle in his eye.

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl​ @ben-c-group-therapy @jemmakates​ @gillysoldlady​

“Your going to go back out there sweetums, and tell your date that you need to leave. Then your going to get a cab to my place” He reached into his pocket pulling out a pair of keys handing them to you “You wait for me there and when I get there Y/N, I’m going to show you that your mine and I don’t share”

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

A kiss

Warnings: Cheeky Racehorse.

WC: 423

Enjoy x

As soon as you saw his lips coming towards you, you turned your face and they landed on your cheek. Your cheeks turned bright red, your body heated up and he pulled away from you raising an eye brow,

“What-“

You cut Racehorse off by placing your pointer finger over his lips and that action made him frown his brows,

“With you Racehorse, a kiss is never just a kiss. A kiss is just the start and you know full well what comes next when you kiss me” your hand dropped from lips and he let out a chuckle wrapping his arms around you pulling you into his body.

“Never heard you complain before sweetums” his voice was deep and dangerous, just how you liked it and it made you shiver.

“You know I don’t complain about anything you do to me, but I don’t have time right now. I need to get those signed papers to the court house before closing”

You pulled away from him, walked around him picking up the file and a pen from his desk, turning around and handing them both to him. You saw the devilish smirk pull to his face before he took the files off you, leaning on his desk and flicking through the papers with his long fingers signing where you had put the arrow sticky notes.  Racehorse turned around to you with a smoldering look and handed the file to you. You reached for it giving it a tug just as Racehorse tugged it and pulled you back into him,

“Still on for dinner tonight, yes?”

“Of course,” you smiled wide.

“Can I kiss you then?” his voice dropped low before his lips landed on your neck, his free hand started to run up your clothed thigh and you let out a slight whimper.

“I think you know that answer to that” you moaned slightly and arched your body into his.

Racehorse smiled into your neck and kissed up to your ear at the same time his hand slid around to your behind giving it a quick squeeze and then a slight slap,

“Better run along Y/N, the courthouse closes in two hours don’t need you to get distracted from your job by a kiss.”

You let out a giggle and pulled away from him completely walking towards the door,

“I’ am lucky the boss is my husband. If I don’t do a good job at work I know just how to make up for it when I get him home”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @gillysoldlady @ben-c-group-therapy @jemmakates

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

The friend part 9

The Friend

The Friend part 2

The Friend part 3

The Friend part 4

The Friend part 5

The Friend part 6

The Friend part 7

The Friend part 8

So sad this is the second last chapter and this is the shortest one of all of them. @beccabarba will guest star in the final chapter next week.

Warnings: morning smut, swearing, angst and drama.

WC: 1391

Enjoy x

Nights out dressed to the nines, front row tickets to anything you wanted to go to, and the chance of waking up the next morning with multiple articles or posts about your outfit, how big or little you looked, how amazing or ugly your hair and makeup was, and a list of people that were out with you was 9 times out of 10. That was life and you acted accordingly. Even just a simple trip to the movies was a major event in the eyes of social media. Sometimes you were in the mood for it, brushing it all off like you were made for this glamorous cut-throat world and other times it was just home and work with no in between.

As the summer was winding down, work had been busy. The ball was rolling on the winter party, that most years was actually bigger than the summer one and the winter line drawings were in progress to get ready for investors viewing meetings, and the mock ups being made, while all the models had their annual week off at a house that your parents booked for them every year as a staff bonus before they came back for fittings, runway shows and viewings.

It was starting to be a habit that when Eliana was away over night, an extended time away, or you both knew that she would be busy: you would end up staying the night with Racehorse, and it was starting to feel amazing waking up with him. When he invited you over for dinner and a movie, you were blown away that he had organised the DVD of a movie that you had mentioned in passing you wanted to see at the cinema but never got around to it and, instead of the usual 5-star restaurant food, it was pizza from one of the best woodfire pizza place in the area, a bottle of wine, the movie and so much foreplay that by the time he got you to bed it didn’t take very long for the finale.

The morning sun seeped in through the big glass windows with thin curtains, the brightness making your eyes flutter open slowly. Once they adjusted, your eyes rested on Racehorse looking at an email on his phone, the comforter down around his waist and you were made very aware that you were still completely naked under the sheets and your thighs were still sticky from the night before. You shuffled over close to him, a grin pulling to his face when he felt your hand run over his abs and down under the covers, your hand sliding straight down to his long length and you started to rub him and kiss his shoulder.

It didn’t  take long for him to harden in your touch, when he reached over putting his phone on the bedside table and he rolled over onto you on his side, grabbing your thigh, pulling it over his hip and his hand went between your thighs brushing through your already wet folds. Racehorse lent close to you, his lips crashing on yours and slipped his tongue into your mouth and yours toyed with his. You moaned into his mouth when his hand left you, he broke the kiss and reached into his bedside table drawer after opening it pulling out protection, ripping it with his teeth, pushing your hand away and rolling it on.

Racehorse’s hand came to your thigh again, pulling you to him and he moved his hips so he could slide up into you. One of your hands went to his cheek and the other went to his shoulder, both your hips rolling into each there’s and breathing heavy in each other’s faces,

“I like waking up to you,” you panted.

“I know, sweetums,” he grinned.

His hips picked up their pace rolling up into you and you rolling down into him. Your hand that was on his shoulder started to run down his chest, your nails scrapping over him slightly. He let out a groan and in a swift move he rolled you onto your back, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them next to your head. His pelvic bone was just enough, brushing over your needy clit and his long hard cock hit your sweet spot bringing you to the edge. Your body filled with so much intensity that you started to whine in pleasure. You brought your legs up around his middle, his hips getting deep and getting sloppy,

“Say my name,” he grunted, “When you cum.”

You nodded back at him, knowing what he meant, biting your bottom lip, and you could feel in the pit of your belly, your coil was about to snap, the sheet wet under you from how turned on you were. Deep thrust after deep thrust, groans, moans and skin on skin filling the room,

“Race-Ricardo” you moaned load.

Your back arched up, your mouth dropping open and your eyes closed when your coil snapped, heat washing over you and his fingers tightened around your wrists, pushing them onto the bed more and his lips latched onto your neck nipping and sucking in the crock of your neck just before his teeth sunk into you slightly, he stilling by the way you said his name and he came deep inside you with a loud groan, his forehead on your shoulder breathing heavy.

He moved up off you a moment later, kissing you deeply before he rolled off you getting up to rid himself of the condom and clean himself up. You got up out of bed, walking around to the pail of cloths from the night before, picking up his navy button down slipping it on and doing up some buttons to cover your body,

“Coffee?” you yelled through the door.

“Of course, my sweet. We will order in breakfast though.”

You smiled to yourself and opened the bedroom door walking through the living area into the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks, your hands going over your mouth and Eliana dropped the glass of orange juice she had just poured herself. The glass smashed and the orange juice spilt everywhere,

“Y/N” she shrieked “I- what- the-“

“Eliana, please” you felt the tears spill into your eyes.

“My sweet, are you ok?” Racehorse’s voice came from behind you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed “You’re fucking my dad? And you-” she pointed her finger at Racehorse, “You’re fucking my best friend?”

“Eliana, babe please hear us out” the tears ran down your cheeks.

“Mi niña, please” Racehorse pleaded and walking up to rest his hand on your back.

Eliana raised her eyebrow looking between you both and crossed her arms over her body,

“How long has this” she pointed between you both “been going on?” she spat.

“Since your birthday, my love” Racehorse answered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she shrieked.

“Eliana, por favor” Racehorse said firmly “Don’t be so dramatic”

“Eliana, I didn’t know who he was till you introduced me,” you sniffed.

“So, wait a minute, you fucked her before I took you too meet her? How fucked up is that, so she is just another whore then, hey dad?”

Your heart stung when she said that, but you didn’t blame her for saying it. The room fell silent and sadness filled you when Racehorse dropped his hand from your back and he walked to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen bench, leaning on his fists,

“I understand your upset young lady, but you remember who’s house you’re in and don’t you talk about Y/N like that. You haven’t given either us a chance to explain anything yet”

“Always the lawyer” she threw her hands up in the air “I don’t want to hear it dad. You and I are done!” she spat at Racehorse grabbing her bag off the bench and walking towards the door.

“Eliana, please,” you grabbed her arm as she walked past.

She turned around to face you, her face red with anger and eyes filled with so much hate. She raised her pointer finger up into your face and her voice was nothing but a snarl,

“You disgust me, I can hardly look at you. I hope fucking my dad was worth it, because you’ve lost your best friend”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @nestorocetevas @ben-c-group-therapy @jemmakates

[gillysoldlady]

1) @withmyteeth because she writes the best Mayans and Sons of Anarchy smut and her 100 word drabbles are the shit, check her out and you won’t be sorry .

2) @itsjustmyfantasyroom Nick Amaro smut and fluff fic are on another level as well as Miguel Galindo from Mayans and Racehorse Diaz from The Good Fight. She also writes excellent Bishop Losa from Mayans stuff as well.

3) Hell anyone who writes fic is a favorite of mine . That’s all.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

😈😈😈

Fiction fiction? Ali Smith (wonderful, haunting stories), Stephen King (especially his short stories and his later "ghost" stories), and A.S. Byatt (lush details and stories that will tear your heart out).

Fan fiction? There's @absurdthirst who consistently writes really compelling stuff. She has the output of Joyce Carol Oates, but for smutty fan-fiction.

There was a writer in the SVU fandom who is no longer active. She used to publish under the moniker "scenesfromthebullpen," but then she changed it to try and shake off a mob. She got doxxed back in 2020 (when the Twitter drama from "Tartuffe" spilled into Tumblr), and she deleted everything. She was a small blog, but her stuff was so well done. Wonderful plotting, world-building....wherever you are, Sami....hope you're doing well.

For the third....hmmm. If only there was a Mexican opossum who had opposable thumbs and could write an angsty, idiots-in-love slow-burn that could make the angels weep....the name escapes me...started with a "D," I think.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Photos & Quotes: pintrest & google 🤍

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

The friend.

This whole series is based on the one comment that was made to Racehorse towards the end of his episode about him having a daughter. There are no spoilers of the episode and I have been lucky enough that my amazing friend @beccabarba  has co written every second chapter of this 10 part series about this amazing cocky and smug man, who we both love!

Warnings: sets the story line, smug and cocky Racehorse and oral smut. 

WC: 2159

Enjoy x

The fashion industry was cut throat as it was, but in Chicago it was even worse. The backstabbing and the stepping over each other, was next level, but you copped it from another aspect, and sometimes that was harder to deal with. You were born into it, your family one of the most famous in the industry. Much to your mothers disappointment, you hadn’t been born with the fashion gene, but you handled the other aspect of the business. You were the inhouse lawyer; you were head of PR and you also managed the models.

Some would say you were one of the most powerful women in the company and sometimes in the industry, the models holding their success in the palm of your hand, so that was held against you a lot. Some looked up to you and others tried to be your friend just for your power alone. But you kept your group small, and as you got older you hired models not just because of their beauty, anyone could be made to look beautiful, but you actually got to know them. The last thing you wanted to be doing was spending a long summer with a bunch boring pretty two-faced people.

Eliana was one of those amazing models. She was extremely beautiful, down to earth, fun to work with, fun to party with and she was actually a friend. You spent so much time together that you both knew everything about each other, about your families and everything in your past. She had been with your families company coming on 3 years, you had been to every photo shoot with her, every fashion week she was in and every abroad trip she had been on, personal training sessions almost every day and multiple late nights out drinking and dancing. You hadn’t been in your office for long when your phone buzzed, Eliana’s number flashing on your screen,

“Happy Birthday, Chica”

“Gracias linda. Thank you for the hamper, I love it”

“Welcome” you smiled over the phone.

“Please tell me your coming tonight?”

“Eliana-“

“Don’t you Eliana me. Babe, you’re not too old. No one hates you and I really want you there. Your one of my best friends”

“Only because it’s your birthday”

As you drove up the drive to the mansion that was hired for the party, you weren’t surprised at the size of it. Eliana had told you all about the strained relationship with her parents and how they both over compensated finically when she asked for it. You had heard all about her Dad’s career, that she didn’t know much about other than he was a lawyer and how her Mum moved on with guys half her age to get back at him, you knew how much they fought and about how he still wore his wedding band even after he spilt from her mother just to save face and make everyone think he was a happily married man.

The music was blaring when you got out of the car, a valet taking your keys to move it and you walked inside. You made your way around the luxurious party, gold champagne glasses being passed around on gold trays, an over-the-top table covered from one end to the other with finger food and when you walked out the backdoors, round white tables scattered over the lawn with over-the-top gold center pieces and people scattered everywhere. You had just taken a glass of champagne when you heard your name shrieked across the yard. Eliana walking towards you like she was on the cat walk,

“Happy Birthday, babe.”

“Thanks, babe. I’ am so glad you came” she wrapped her arms around you pulling you in for a big hug and she kissed your cheek “Wouldn’t have been the same without you” Eliana pulled back, her hands going to your shoulders and her eyes scanning down your body in your powder blue short dress shorts, powder blue tank top and matching blazer “And you look fucking sexy”

You had felt his eyes on you from the moment you walked into the back yard, you blushing at how his brown eyes burnt through you. Everywhere you turned or whomever you spoke to, you could see him watching you. You were speaking to one of the other models you managed when you looked over his shoulder, seeing the handsome stranger standing there on his side. His salt and pepper hair and beard in place perfectly, his grey dress pants fitting just tight enough, his white button-down fitting snug around his chest, his sleeves rolled up showing off his amazing wrists and arms, and the black cowboy boots that made you grin. He must have sensed you starring and he turned his head, giving you a wink and raised his glass to you, his long fingers wrapped around it.

The night was flowing smoothly, mostly everyone you worked with was friendly and talkative. You had a dance and food. You had decided on one more drink after you went to the bathroom to freshen up, your last for the night and just so you had a drink for when the cake was cut. As you washed your hands and reapplied some lipstick, you could hear a voice that made you shiver through the door at the tone it was being spoken in. You listened for moment and then opened the door, gasping when you came face to face with the handsome stranger that you had been eyeing up all night,

“I have to go” His eyes locked with yours, slipping the phone in his pocket once he hung up. You saw the cheeky glint fill them and a wolfish grin spread across his face “I was hoping I would get to bump into you, sweetums. Having a good night so far?”

Your mouth was too quick for your head, the words coming out before you could stop them,

“Better now I’ve bumped into you” you smiled sweetly.

A chuckle left him, his thumb and pointer finger ran around his mouth, smoothed down the beard on his chin and he looked down at his watch. You saw him raise his eye brow and then look back at you, he reaching for your hand and pulled you down the hall way to another door. He opened the door pushing it open and pulled you into the room shutting it behind you both. Your eyes did a quick scan of the four-poster king sized bed before he came up to you grabbing your attention again,

“So beautiful” He pulled you into him, his body flush with yours his hands going to your hips and he dipped his head, his lips ghosting yours “Any objections?” he muttered.

“None” you moaned when he pulled your hips into him.

His hot wet lips crashed on yours, the taste of whiskey still on them and his tongue pushed into your mouth, your mouth opening willingly and your tongue’s rolled and moved together. You moaned into his mouth when you felt his hand move from your hip to the hem on your shorts, up your thigh and slip into your panties. His fingers moving through your wet folds. You broke the kiss with a gasp when two of his long fingers pushed up into you, his other hand going into your hair and pulling your head back. Your mouth dropping open when a third fingers joined the others and the pad of his thumb found your clit easily,

“Such a filthy girl, coming into a room with a stranger”

You laughed breathlessly, his fingers driving into you hard and deep,

“I ‘am not the filthy one” you panted out “Always go knuckles deep with women you meet outside of a bathroom?” you moaned, your hands going to grab onto his thick forearms when he hit your sweet spot.

“Cheeky and filthy. My favourite combination” You saw him bite his bottom lip and look down his nose at you as his fingers drove into you again and he rolled your clit.

You tried not to scream loud while you came hard on his fingers, your walls clamping down on him hard and your knees trembled, your whole-body filling with warmth and your heart beating hard in your chest. Slowly his grip in your hair loosened and he pulled his fingers out of you. As he brought his hand up to your eye line, you could see the shine of your wet on them and he grabbed one of your hands guiding it to cup his hard cock behind his zipper.

You smiled sweetly, grabbing his writs with your other hand and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, your tongue running over them. Without taking his fingers out of your mouth, he took his hand off yours on his crotch moving it to the back of your neck and he pushed you down. He only needed to do it gently and you followed his instructions sinking to your knees with his fingers still in your mouth and his hand on the back of your neck. Once you were on your knees, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop and you licked your lips,

“Want to see how filthy I can really be?” you purred.

You saw his eyes go black and a growl rumbled in his chest. He made quick work undoing his belt buckle and zipper, pushing down his pants and boxers, his hard thick cock almost hitting your face when it sprung from his boxers. Your eyes blew open and heat swept through you again at the size of him. His thumb and pointer finger grabbed your chin, tipping your head back, your eyes focused on his again,

“Open wide, my sweet”

Your mouth opened and he rested the tip of his cock to your bottom lip. You stuck your tongue out slightly licking his tip and he let out an almost silent grunt biting his bottom lip. You gave him a cheeky wink, leaning forward and taking him fully into your mouth. You relaxed your throat and took him as deep as you could sinking right down to his base, his black curly hair tickling your nose. You ran your mouth back up to his tip hollowing your cheeks, licking around it like a melting popsicle and sinking back down on him again.

Both your hands rested on his thighs, feeling his muscles tensing when you licked over his tip, his precum coating your tongue. Both of his hands threaded into your hair resting at the back of your head, his fingertips pressing into your skull. You had to squeeze your legs together tight for some relief from how the sounds you were pulling from him turned you on. One of your hands left his thigh to cup his balls, squeezing them gently and your other ran around to his right ass cheek, cupping his firm flesh massaging it lightly,

“Such a dirty girl, taking my cock so well” he grunted.

You felt his hands ball into fists in your hair holding your head still as he started to roll his hips into your mouth fast and deep, his cock hitting the back of your throat, tears running down your cheeks and saliva dripping out of the corners of your mouth. You pushed him into you by his behind and you played with his balls in your hand. He let out a loud groan and a string of swear words, his hot salty cum spilt into your mouth and trickled down your throat. You sucked him clean, feeling him softening on your tongue before he pulled out, he leaning down wiping one corner of your mouth dry with his thumb.    

You hadn’t gotten his name and hadn’t gotten his number, his phone ringing just as he zipped himself away and he just walked out of the room without a word, so you went about your business back outside talking and being social. Happy Birthday had been sung and the cake had been cut. You were talking to a mutual friend, when you heard your name, turning around to see Eliana walking towards you with the handsome stranger that was knuckles deep in you not to long ago,

“Y/N” she walked up to you, linking her arm in yours “I want you to meet my dad, Richardo Diaz. Dad, this is my boss and best friend Y/N Y/L/N”

Your mouth dropped open and your heart stopped as he coolly reached his hand out to you like his cock wasn’t just in your mouth less than 30 minutes ago. You reached out taking his hand in yours shaking it and giving him a small tight smile and trying to hide your bright red cheeks,

“Please, young lady” he looked at Eliana with his eye brows raised “My name is Racehorse, only my mother calls me Richardo. Nice to meet you, Y/N”  

Tags: @beccabarba​ @alwaysachorusgirl​ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​ @ben-c-group-therapy​ @jemmakates​

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

The friend part 10

The Friend

The Friend part 2

The Friend part 3

The Friend part 4

The Friend part 5

The Friend part 6

The Friend part 7

The Friend part 8

The Friend part 9

And here we are, the final of this series! It has been amazing co writing this series with @beccabarba who ended off with a bang! Thank you for writing besides me with this series, it was a lot of fun as always.

Warnings: Angst, smut and as always a happy ending.

WC: 4175

To be the betrayer, rather than to betrayed was new to you and for the first time in your life you weren’t just dealing with the guilty feeling and the feeling of disappointment with how you had made people feel, you were also dealing with a broken heart and the constant criticism that your mum and sometimes your dad threw at you on a daily basis, as well as dealing with the work load and the sticky beaks that were asking questions about why you and Eliana weren’t out together anymore and when she was in something that had to do with the fashion house your mum was going with her instead. Even the on-line bloggers were starting to pick it up. It broke your heart that she felt like that towards you, sometimes not even looking at you as she walked through the halls of the office, and sometimes you would sit in your office and have a cry with how horrible it made you feel.

You had heard that sometimes the best thing when addicted to something was to quit cold turkey, but it was a horrible feeling missing him in every way. After the day in his kitchen, it wasn’t the same. He had told you he wanted to mend things with Eliana again and you had both decided that it was fun while it lasted but you had both hurt one of the most important people to you both and that was that. You had wished it had happened months before that, because maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much not talking to him, not seeing his name pop up on your phone screen, not feeling his body weight on top of you, and not feeling his beard on your skin. You craved him but you knew it was an addiction you needed to break.

You had heard from your mum that Eliana had passed the bar when she spoke about you taking six months away in Paris to help set up a pop-up store for the fashion house, making sure everything was set up for fashion week before you would come back via New York, a routine you were more than used to, but not a routine you were used to doing by yourself. You were also told by your mum that Eliana would take your position in the company, as well as still modelling, while you were away. Your apartment was going to be sublet by one of the models you managed till you were back, and your mum organised an apartment with a small balcony overlooking the Eiffel tower.

Your parents had been tough on you with the situation, but when your mum got you alone on New Year’s Day before your afternoon flight out, she had a heart to heart with you about everything and  let you know how much she knew your heart was broken with the whole situation. She wanted you to make the most of time away to heal and come back as new, healed, and stronger person. The tears rolled down you cheeks as you flew over the ocean, thinking about the last time you made this same trip with your best friend, counting down the hours till you would be back as soon as the plane took off, but now, your life was packed in two cases for 6 months heading to a city that for the second time in your life you wished you were going to with someone who, by now, you knew for sure you would be in love with.

Setting up a pop-up store was harder than your three-position job back in Chicago with the company. You needed to make sure all the store fittings matched the style of your Chicago store, the signage was perfect, you needed to hire the multiple staff for different positions, all the clothing items were shipped over in a timely manner, and your mom had put you in charge of the staff training. To top all that off, you had to organise a massive store opening the week before the fashion shows started because most of the important people that you needed to be seen at the opening were already in the country by then. Despite being so busy, you noticed couples everywhere, you walked near the tower a hand full of times seeing the cliché dip kiss in from of the tower or that romantic moment when someone dropped to their knees offering their partner ‘the ring’.  

You were surprised how fast six months actually went. It was the morning after the store opening, which was more successful than you ever would have dreamed. You had slowly started to pack your 6-month life up; you posted home a few boxes and your bags being were packed, bar your outfits for the shows in Paris and New York, and for the after parties you were going to. You were sitting at a café that had been your favourite café since you were a little girl. You had your favourite breakfast dish and had got an iced coffee to go, deciding to make the walk back to your apartment to continue packing and make a couple more boxes to post home.

You thought at first you were hearing things, you hadn’t heard that voice say your name like that since before the fall out, brushing it off and you kept walking till you heard it again, loader. You spun around and your eyes set on Eliana’s smiling face pushing through the crowd to get to you,

“Eliana!” you looked at her confused, before she almost jumped on you wrapping you in her arms and you slowly wrapped your arms around her before she pulled back, her hands going to your shoulders looking at you with tears in her eyes.

“It’s so good to see you, babe,” she hugged you tight again.

“It’s so good to see you too…” you muttered into her shoulder before she pulled back again “I’m surprised you’re-“

“I know,” she cut you off with a laugh, “Look, babe. I am so sorry I acted the way I did when I found out about you and my dad. I was just being a dramatic little bitch. But it did hurt, at first anyway.”

“I am sorry, babe. I should have told you what was going on and stopped it.”

Eliana shook her head and brushed your hair behind your ear, “No babe. You shouldn’t have stopped for me. My dad hasn’t been the same since it all ended. I should have been happy for you both. I can see how much it actually meant to him. To both of you. We’ve been talking. You know, Dad had mended everything, and there was no reason for me to spew so much hate on you. I was just surprised.” She paused, then grinned. “Besides, come on babe, you can’t do Paris and New York without me.” You both laughed and were crying happy tears when you embraced each other again, hugging each other tight “But anyway enough about us. Tomorrow morning, our café for brunch”

“Ok,” you smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

“Great. I went by your place before I came here. I left something on your doorstep, you better hurry back before its stolen…” Eliana winked at you, hugged and kissed you before she turned and walked away. You were flooded with relief, and curiosity.

You weren’t quite sure what she left. Your mind suggested one thing, but after everything, surely it couldn’t be true? You rushed back anyway. The elevator on the way up to your floor was the longest ride to date. The doors had only opened enough for you to squeeze your hand through, pushing them open, rushing out down the hall and turning the corner. Your eyes teared up when you saw him pacing at your door with his hands in his pockets. He looked up at you with that smug smile that you loved and missed, his eyes lighting up.

“Where have you been, young lady? I fly thousands of miles to see you and you’re not even home.”

“Sorry,” you said shyly and started to walk towards him, “If I had known company was coming today, I wouldn’t have gone out.” You came to stand toe to toe with him and he let out a chuckle with one hand coming out of his pocket and going to your hip.

“That’s not how surprises work, sweetums.” His head dipped to catch your lips, his hand coming from your hip to your cheek and he kissed you deeply, you melting into him “I think you should open the door; don’t you think my sweet?” he rolled his hips into you.

You bit your bottom lip, your hand going to his chest and you looked up at him,

“Do you think so?” you purred.

“Well, unless you want me to fuck you in the hallway for everyone to see. I suggest you do, my sweet,” he growled.

You stepped away from him, quickly pulling your keys from your bag. As you were trying to get them in the lock, his hands were on your hips and thigh pulling you back into him, his lips kissing your neck, his beard on your skin making you shiver, and his hard pant-covered cock poking into your ass. You slid your key in the lock and turned it, gently slapping at the hand on your hips. “Hey, you’ve crossed a whole ocean, you can wait thirty seconds,” you teased.

In answer, he pulled you back into him harder, nipping the place where your neck curved into your shoulder, sending heat through your body. His words were a whisper against your skin. “I can’t resist you for a moment longer.” He reached around you to push the now unlocked, door open, hustling you through.

Inside the apartment, you dropped your bag and shrugged off your jacket quickly. He closed the door behind you, and as he turned to face you, you pushed him back against the door, your hands on his shoulders, pressing against him and seeking his mouth with yours, kissing him with the hunger of all days you’d been apart from him. His hands found your hips, one of them trailing up your spine and caressing the back of your neck, pulling you into the kiss. Your senses were filled with him; the feel of his hot mouth, the texture of his beard, the smell of his cologne. The familiar strength of his hands and the solid heat of his body, the little growl of arousal in his throat.

Eventually, breathless, you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed me,” he said.

“Not at all. It’s been nice not having to contend with your ego. Not having to see this smug face all the time.” You brought up a hand to caress his cheek.

He chuckled, put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you backwards, navigating the way to the big couch in the middle of the room. “If I’m so egotistical…” he said between steps, pushing you back again, “…and you can’t stand seeing my smug face…” you moved backwards with him, and your legs found the couch. He pushed you back onto it and you sank onto your back, as he leaned in over you, his lips still nearly touching yours, “…then you won’t want me to fuck you, will you sweetheart?” He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them by your ears, his whole body covering yours, his breath mingling with yours.

You were panting with the need he aroused in you, and your heart was soaring with happiness that you were reunited, and it didn’t have to be a secret. As you looked up into his dark, warm eyes, you were hit by a rush of emotion. “Fucking hell, Racehorse, I missed you so much.”

He smiled widely. “And I flew across the Atlantic to be with you.”

“You did,” you flushed with pleasure. “It’s like you care.”

His expression showed just how much he did care. But he raised an eyebrow, and rolled his hips down against you. You gasped. “We can talk later,” he growled. “But first things first…” His eyes locked to yours, his expression almost predatory. It sent a shiver through you.

“Fuck me, sir…” you said, your eyes wide and innocent. His lips curled into a satisfied smile.

“With pleasure, my filthy girl. Show me your bedroom.” He pushed up off you and helped you to your feet, taking your hand in his. You didn’t let go, but turned and led him through to your bedroom, the big bed neatly made, but several half-packed suitcases scattered on the floor.

“Sorry for the mess,” you said, gesturing around.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he said, “my attention is elsewhere.”

You smiled and turned to face him, pulling him softly towards you. He watched you, as you reached for him and started to undress him, pushing off his jacket, starting on the buttons of his shirt, revealing his white undershirt beneath. You tugged the shirt from his arms, and wasted no time pulling the undershirt up and over his head. The beautiful, toned body you knew so well was revealed to you. You put your hands on his chest, running your fingers through the texture of his chest hair, feeling his body heat. He caught his breath as your touch skimmed over his nipples.

You ran your hands lower, finding his belt and the fastening of his pants, unfastening both as he watched. You could see the bulge inside the fabric, and his erection sprung free the moment you loosened his pants. You trailed your eyes from his big cock and up his body to let him see the desire in your expression. He brought one hand up to the back of your neck and pushed down, gently, as you sank onto your knees. You smiled as you looked up at him. “This is how we met,” you said, with a little giggle.

“So it is. So open wide and remind me how filthy you are,” he said softly. You wasted no time, leaning forward and taking him between your lips, letting the wide head of his cock slip into your mouth, pushing towards the back of your throat, before lavishing his length with your tongue, and moving back to suck on the head. You felt his hand tighten on the back of your head, as he pushed his hips forward, going deeper this time, starting to move so he was fucking your mouth, slowly, giving you plenty of time to tease him with your tongue and lips, but pushing back into your throat further each time, until he started to take your breath away, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You hummed around him in pleasure, encouraging him, enjoying his taste.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, and his hand cradled your face so you were looking up at him. “Much as I’m enjoying the nostalgia of remembering our first meeting, it’s been too long since I fucked you properly. Get up.”

He held out his hand and helped you stand up. He stroked your face, and ran his thumb over your wet and slightly swollen lips, before kissing you deeply. He was still kissing you as his hands moved down and pulled at your clothes. You helped him, and soon you were naked, as he stepped back and slid his pants down his legs, until you were both as naked as each other. For a moment, you just stared at each other, then he stepped into you and pushed you, lowering you onto your back on the bed. He moved over you, his hands exploring, his mouth finding one hard nipple, then the other, and sucking in a way that made you arch up into him. One of his hands slid to your throat, and your eyes met his. “Fuck me,” you said breathlessly.

He set his eyes stern and raised his eyebrows.

“Fuck me, please?” you tried.

The hand on your throat squeezed slightly and you bit your lip. “Please fuck me, sir,” you begged, as his other hand slipped down to press between your thighs and make you gasp.

He shook his head slightly.

“Racehorse, sir, please…” you moaned, as his fingers started to tease over your clit.

“Try again,” he ordered. “Y/N, try again.”

It was him using your name that gave you your clue what he wanted. “Ricardo, I need you to fuck me, please,” you said, watching his response.

“Only my mother, and my girlfriend, call me that,” he replied, as his knee pushed between your legs, encouraging you to spread for him. He was still toying with you with his fingers, and the pleasure rushed through you – both arousal and pleasure at the idea of being his girlfriend – not his secret lover.

“Fuck your girlfriend, Ricardo,” you urged. In response, you felt his fingers tighten in a little pinch of your clit.

“Don’t push your luck, sweetheart,” he growled.

You giggled and made big eyes at him. “I’m sorry…sir…”

He nodded, his fingers circling again, taking you closer and closer to the edge. He plunged three fingers into you and you arched your back again, whining with need. “Just as hot and wet as that first day I met you,” he crooned. Then he pulled his fingers out, and made a show of licking them clean, before he repositioned himself between your thighs, hands by your head, pushing his hips forward and his big cock filling you slowly, the stretch familiar and yet – after the long break – closer to the edge of pain than usual. He was watching your face, and when he bottomed out in you, he held himself there, giving your body chance to remember him, to relax for him. You wrapped your legs around him, and let him know you were ready by lifting your hips, trying to pull him deeper.

He fucked you slowly at first, his thrusts deep and powerful, but both of you more interested in the feeling of being connected, him being sheathed in you again, than in chasing your orgasms. He circled his hips rhythmically, bending his head to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth, before his lips traced along your jaw and down onto your throat, nipping softly, as you wrapped your hands around his back, digging your nails into his skin. You felt his pace quicken with the wanton thread of pain between you, the mounting need for more, for release.

To your surprise, he growled and pulled back, sitting back on his haunches. You missed the heat and stretch of him at once. “Turn over,” he instructed urgently, his hands encouraging you. “Hands and knees.” You rolled over and raised yourself up, feeling his hands on your ass, as he spread you, enjoying the view, before pressing himself against you again. You pushed back into him and he chuckled and delivered a little sharp spank to one cheek, before giving you what you wanted and thrusting forwards, filling you completely. One hand came to your hip, gripping tightly, the other slid up your back to your head. He grabbed a handful and pulled, yanking your whole body back into him, as he started to fuck you, this time much faster and with more intent.

“Oh god, Racehor…Ricardo, feels so good, I’ve missed the way you fuck me,” you whined between thrusts, your breath coming quickly.

“I’ve missed fucking you,” he grunted, the effort making his voice low and uneven. “I’ve never been addicted to anyone like I am you, sweetheart.” He pulled your hair harder and you shoved one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit to encourage the orgasm that was already building deep in your body.

Both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, as you pushed back to meet each hard thrust, and his hands gripped harder and harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Every time he filled you, he pressed against just the right spot inside you, and his fingers took you closer and closer. “I’m so close, I’m going to come…” you moaned.

“Wait,” he ordered, fucking you faster.

“Oh god, please…” you replied urgently, feeling yourself getting to the point of no return. “Please!”

“Now, come with me now,” he panted, shoving himself all the way inside you and pressing his body to yours, as you shuddered beneath him, your body clenching around his cock as he spilled his seed inside you. Pleasure flooded every cell, and you gasped for breath, feeling the intensity of your release to the end of your fingers and toes.

For a long moment, he was pressed to you, breathing hard, still inside you. “Oh my god, that was…I don’t even know what it was…just so good…please don’t ever stop fucking me, or be away from me for so long again…” you said, just about coherent.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Do you know why?” You felt his beard on your skin close to the back of your neck.

“Because I’m a filthy slut for you?” you replied over your shoulder, grinning.

“You are, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “But,” he leaned closer so he was whispering in your ear, “it’s actually because I love you.” He planted a little kiss on the back of your shoulder, before pushing up and back from you, rising to his feet by the bed. You spun around quickly.

“What did you say?” you demanded, your heart beating even harder, scarcely able to believe it.

“You heard me, sweetums, don’t be coy.” His eyes were twinkling.

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, hesitant to rush your response after all the emotion and stress of your relationship so far. “Give me a moment,” you said, wandering through to the bathroom to clean up and slip on a soft robe. You stopped to stare at yourself in the mirror and you couldn’t deny what you saw. A woman who had been thoroughly fucked, yes. But also, a woman in love. You smiled at your reflection, and turned to go back to the bedroom.

Racehorse was sitting on the bed, the comforter over his lower half. You walked to his side of the bed, seeing his eyes on you, and took his hand in yours, kissing each of his fingers softly. “I love you too, Ricardo. And I have for months and months.”

His smile was one of pure joy, his eyes full of light. He grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the bed. You fell over him, onto the other side, and quickly snuggled into his body, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He kissed the top of your head and, for a long moment, you simply breathed together. Eventually, you lifted your face to look up at him.

“Does this mean it’s official?” you asked. “We can be seen in public?”

“Well, all the people who matter already know, and have given us their blessing. Although Eliana did point out she wouldn’t call you Mommy.” He smiled.

“I am more relieved by that than you know,” you replied. “But you know people will ask – people who don’t know us will gossip about us online?”

“Then maybe we should tell them how we met, give them something to really enjoy,” he said lightly. You opened your eyes wide in horror. “I don’t mean it,” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Your secret is safe with me. But I will keep an eye on you at parties.”

“I never did that before. You know that don’t you? Even then…there was something about you Ricardo Diaz.” You reached up and stroked your fingers through his beard.

“And you were like a black hole. Your gravity sucking me in from across the room,” he said. “I couldn’t resist you. And I still can’t.”

“I’m not sure that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said,” you smirked. “A black hole?”

“Why not? Powerful, mysterious…”

You laughed. “I love the way you see me.”

He chuckled. “And from now on, everyone will see you as my girlfriend.”

“And they’ll know you’re mine,” you added. He smiled at that.

“Yes, they will. I will be proud every time we’re seen together, sweetheart.”

“Is this a long-term situation in your head?” you asked him, wanting to be sure you were both on the same page.

“Absolutely.”

You looked at each other for a long moment. Then his smile turned wicked. “Want to know how I see you right now?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” You saw his expression. “Yes…sir?”

His eyes darkened. “Why don’t I show you instead?” and his hands wrapped around you and pulled you into his body, rolling on top of you as his mouth found yours and your heart – and your temperature – soared.

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