#rusty grille

[grille-thrill]

[lewisinho]

i need them all driving a fiat punto with a 5-speed manual transmission with 70 hp attempting to manoeuvre through peak rush hour traffic

[dex1o]

Run, Ruby, run

[autobahnmp3]

gooood evening we successfully grilled meat

[southernsmokebbq]

[bookofthegear]

You leave the room behind and spend twenty minutes trying to get the grille more or less back in place. It doesn’t really work, but you manage to wedge it into the opening so that at least it won’t fall over on anybody. You still give it a worried glance as you leave.

The only place left to go is down the stairs, so down you go. At the bottom, you find a smallish room with an alcove, a huge iron door that someone made specifically to be intimidating, and a sloping hallway to the south. You hear frog calls echoing in the distance from the hallway.

There’s a rusty faucet in the alcove. Jimmy says, “You know what’s weird?”

You are spoiled for choice, frankly, but you humor him. “What?”

“Every time somebody turns that faucet handle, it breaks. But every time I come down here, it’s wired back into place.”

You consider this. “Magic or plumbers, do you think?”

Jimmy makes a flailing gesture with his wings. “I don’t know. Maybe this is some kind of afterlife for plumbers and the bad ones have to stay here fixing the same faucet for all eternity.”

This is an interesting theory. It doesn’t body well for your dreams of treasure, but then again, plumbers get paid way better than adventurers.

[justarandomsim]

Rusty Window Grille

I recolored the Strangerville DEBUG grille, made it base game and accessible from the wall attachment category in the build menu.

BGC

9 swatches

wall attachment

30 simoleons

tagged correctly

Download (free)

SFS/Drive/Curseforge

@alwaysfreecc @mmfinds​ @maxismatchccworld​ @mmoutfitters <3

LOD information and in-game swatch preview under the cut!

LOD 0 (High): Vertices: 1616 Polygons: 808

LOD 1 (Medium): Vertices: 1040 Polygons: 500

Shadow LOD 0 (High): Vertices: 808 Polygons: 404

Shadow LOD 1 (Medium): Vertices: 520 Polygons: 250

[wakandas-vibranium]

Double Date

Pairing: Fontaine x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings: smutty smut, 18+ content, minors DNI, oral(f+m receiving), protected p in v sex, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink, rough sex

Word count: 5k

Summary: Your coworker Yo-Yo is playing matchmaker and asked you to accompany her roommate on a double date.

A/N: Let’s get it started with these TCT fics!! If y’all writing ‘em, please tag me so I can read ‘em!! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You finished getting dressed, checked yourself in the mirror one last time, and smiled at how gorgeous you looked, so you grabbed your cell phone and purse and made your way downstairs to meet your Lyft driver. You couldn't wait for your automobile to be repaired because you loathed having to rely on others for transportation.

You were talking to your coworker Yo-Yo earlier this week about how you were touch starved and eager to jump back into the dating scene. Even though you had only worked with Yo-Yo for a little over four months, you had already come to think of her as a close friend. She just moved to Memphis not too long ago. 

Yo-Yo asked you on a double date with her and her boyfriend, claiming that Fontaine, her roommate, was the ideal man for you. 

You've seen Fontaine pick Yo-Yo up from work numerous times and have seen him drive that green car of his around town a few times, but you've never had the chance to actually talk to him. He always seemed to have a lot on his mind, but he was fine as hell, so of course you agreed to the double date. 

You suggested Melvin's, which was one of the few black-owned pubs in the neighborhood. They had delicious, mouthwatering food and a dance floor that never stayed vacant. 

Fontaine didn't appear to be the dancing type, which was fine by you. You just hoped that he would like you enough to bring you back home and fuck your brains out. It had been exactly 14 months, 12 weeks, 11 days, 13 hours, 22 minutes and 57 seconds since you had any kind of dick.

It was time.

Your Lyft driver pulled up in front of you at a quarter to eight, which was perfect because y'all had agreed to meet there at eight and it was only a ten-minute drive from your apartment.

"Lyft for Y/N?" said the older gentleman as he rolled down the passenger window.

You nodded at him, and he quickly stepped out to open the rear door for you, saying, "You lookin' good, young lady!" 

You smiled at him before ducking into the backseat, "Thank you."

Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Melvin's. A nervous chill swept over you. It had been a good lil minute since you've dated. You were rusty and willed yourself not to fuck up tonight.

Once you strutted inside, you spotted the three of them almost immediately. They were all in deep conversation and didn't notice you walk in. They picked a good table to sit at. One close to the bar and dance floor. It was a Thursday night, so it wasn't too packed, but it had a nice lil crowd. 

You tucked your phone inside your clutch, took a deep breath, and strolled confidently over to their table. 

All three of them turned their heads towards you as you neared the table. Yo-Yo beamed brightly at you and waved you over. Her boyfriend's eyes widened, and he mumbled something you couldn't hear, but it must have been inappropriate because Yo-Yo kicked him under the table. 

Fontaine raised his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. The flash of his gold teeth almost made your knees go weak, but you kept walking. You were a sucker for niggas with grills.

Yo-Yo’s man and Fontaine were on the same side of the booth. Yo-Yo was sitting across from her boyfriend, and the empty spot in front of Fontaine was reserved for you.

Yo-Yo stood up and hugged you tightly, "You look finer than a motherfucka!" 

You giggled, squeezing her back just as tightly, "Thank you girl! You look amazing too!" 

She broke the hug and motioned to the two men, "This is my man, Slick Charles, and this is Fontaine." She motioned for you to slide into the booth first, “And this is my coworker and friend Y/N." 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Slick Charles greeted as he held out his hand. You shook his hand before scooching over into the booth. 

“It’s good to meet you, Y/N,” Fontaine said as he extended his hand, “I’m Fontaine.” 

You placed your hand in his large palm, brown eyes locking with his brown eyes and smiled softly at him, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Fontaine.” 

He squeezed your hand, and a wave of warmth rushed through you. Under his intense gaze, you could feel your cheeks heating up. 

Were you really so touch-deprived that a simple handshake and eye contact were enough to make your black ass blush?

The server came over and greeted everybody warmly, saying, "Welcome to Melvin's. What drinks can I get started on for y'all?"

Yo-Yo ordered first, “I’ll have a Manhattan.” 

Then Slick Charles, “Yeah I’ll take a vodka cranberry with a splash of orange juice.” 

The waiter turned to you expectantly and you ordered, “A whiskey sour, please.” 

Fontaine ordered last, “Just a double shot of whiskey for me.”

“And did you want that neat or on the rocks?” 

“Neat.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” 

“So,” you started as you watched the waiter walk off, “How are y’all liking Memphis so far?”

“I’m really enjoying it,” Yo-Yo chimed in. 

“Yeah,” Slick Charles agreed, “It’s a nice change from the Glen.”

“I like it here,” Fontaine added, “I like being in a place where not too many niggas know me.” 

“Well I’m glad y’all came to Memphis,” you admitted, smiling warmly at them. 

The waiter returned with your drinks and took your orders before walking away. 

“Slick, let's hit the dance floor while we wait for our food.” Yo-Yo said as she did a little dance at the table. 

“I ain’t got on my dancing shoes to—“

“—Nigga, get yo ass up and let’s dance.”

“I know we retired and all but I’m still—“ Slick Charles was cut off by Yo-Yo yanking him up and to the dance floor. 

“Are they always like that?” You asked, biting back a laugh as you watched Yo-Yo drag Slick Charles all the way to the dance floor.

“Pretty much,” Fontaine nodded, never taking his eyes off you, “How long you been in Memphis?”

“All my life.”

“You ain’t ever think about movin’ somewhere else?”

“Nah, not really,” you shrugged, “All my family is here, you know?” 

“Yeah, I get it.” 

You were surprised by how effortlessly the conversation flowed. You could talk to him for hours and never get tired of listening to his alluring voice. You were curious about the noises he made while he was balls deep in some pussy. You cleared your throat in an attempt to pull your thoughts out of the gutter. It didn't work.

“You been in a lot of relationships?” You asked, taking another swig of your drink. 

“Nah, I ain’t really have too many shawtys back in the Glen.” 

“Hmm, so you haven’t come across any Memphis women that caught your attention?”

“You caught my eye,” he stated, catching you off guard. 

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’mma keep it real with you, Fontaine,” you said as you looked him straight in the eye, “I want you really bad.” 

“Shit then we on the same page,” he acknowledged, downing the rest of his drink. “So you comin’ back with me tonight?” 

You nodded, “I just have one condition though.” 

“And what’s that?” Fontaine questioned as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit. 

You leaned across the table and motioned for him to come closer. When he was close enough to your liking you whispered, “You have to keep the grills on while you eat my pussy.” 

His brown eyes darkened with desire and a hint of mischief at your request. As your tongue glided across your bottom lip, his gaze drifted to your mouth. 

The sexual tension was so thick you could have sliced it with a butter knife.

“I can do that.” 

You inched closer to each other, your gaze never leaving the other's. From this close range, you could see that his pupils were dilated. You were positive that yours most likely were too. 

“Yeah? You promise?” The corners of your mouth couldn’t help but turn up into an infectious grin at the electric look he gave you.

“Promise.”

He closed what little distance was left between you and kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back with a quickness. Under his facial hair, his full lips were soft against yours and tasted of whiskey. 

The bustling noise of the forks scraping plates, the chatter of the other customers, and the thump of feet on the dance floor all faded away for a brief moment.

You rested your hands on his broad shoulders as he deepened the kiss, letting out a soft moan as his tongue brushed against yours. His hand was wrapped around your lower arm, softly caressing your brown skin. 

You got a little carried away as you slid your hands to the sides of his neck and gently tugged at his lower lip. The low grunt of surprise that he let out caused your clit to throb, and your nipples to harden. He didn't try to pull away from you though. He held both of your arms now and squeezed them tighter as his kisses became more heated.

You were seconds away from saying fuck it and pulling him into a bathroom stall, but you refrained. You had to maintain some type of decorum.

“Ahhh sookie sookie now!” Slick Charles chuckled as he made his way back to the table.

“Y’all niggas need to get a room,” Yo-Yo teased as she plopped down next to you. 

“These motherfuckas,” Fontaine grumbled as he pulled away. 

When you finally opened your eyes, you noticed that some other patrons were staring at you. You ignored them and focused your attention on Yo-Yo and Slick Charles, both of whom were smirking at you and Fontaine.

You were too turned on to be embarrassed, and fortunately, the waiter was on his way over with everyone's food.

The food was delicious as always, and the evening was going exceptionally well. Slick Charles was telling you how he met Yo-Yo, but you were zoning in and out. 

Every time you locked eyes with Fontaine, you squirmed in your seat a little. There was something in his fierce gaze that promised you a night of passion. 

You were so turned on that you couldn't even finish your food. You just ordered another whiskey sour and sipped on that until the others were finished and ready to leave.

The drive back to their place was smooth and just a vibe. Yo-Yo and Slick Charles sang along to the 90's R&B that played softly on the radio in the backseat, and you joined them a few times.

Fontaine sat in a comfortable silence, driving with one hand because his right hand was spread out over your thigh. When he would stop at a red light, he would squeeze it or rub it with his fingers. All the while not taking his eyes off the road, driving you insane, and making you wet for him. He had to know what he was doing to you. 

They lived in a pretty nice apartment complex. It wasn't too far from yours. Once Fontaine parked, you got out of the car and walked ahead with Yo-Yo, arm in arm.

You were elated that they lived on the first floor because your feet were killing you. Yo-Yo unlocked the door and you followed her inside. She pulled you through the apartment to the kitchen, handing you a bottle of water after she closed the fridge. 

You and she gushed over how great tonight turned out to be and how you both had naughty plans for your men.

A couple of minutes later, the fellas entered the apartment. Slick Charles called for Yo-Yo, who winked at you and gave you a thumbs up before exiting the kitchen.

You were halfway done with your water when Fontaine found you leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” he greeted.  

“Hi,” you replied, shooting him a warm smile. 

He pointed to the hallway, “My room is the last room on the left. I’ll meet you there in a min.” 

You nodded as you watched him shuffle out of the kitchen. You gulped down the last bit of your water and threw away the bottle before leaving the kitchen in search of his bedroom.

You found his room with ease, passing Fontaine, Yo-Yo and Slick Charles. The door was already open, so you headed in, not bothering to flip on the light because the tiny lamp on his nightstand illuminated the room plenty for you to see.

“Slick, what the fuck we gon’ do with glow in the dark condoms?” you heard Fontaine question from the other bedroom. You laughed to yourself. You weren’t completely against those types of condoms. 

Slick Charles went on about Fontaine being boring and how he needed to have some fun. You tuned him out as you took off your heels, sighing in relief while you walked around Fontaine’s room. 

You checked your phone to make sure there were no missed calls or texts before slipping it back in your purse. You placed your clutch on his dresser and checked yourself out in the mirror while you waited for him. You looked like a snack and you were definitely ready to be ate! 

Fontaine strolled into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. You turned around to look at him. He held up a gold-colored foil packet and asked, “You ain't allergic to latex, right?" 

"Nah, I'm not allergic,” you assured him.

"Cool," he said as he pocketed the rubber and took his shoes and socks off, kicking them to the side before pulling you in by the waist and kissing you instantly. 

You kissed him back, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck. His hands ventured down to your ass, squeezing it tight as he deepened the kiss. He swallowed your soft moans, licking into your hot mouth as he backed you into the dresser.

“Now I told yo ass to slow down before you injure a nigga’s back!” Slick Charles shouted through the walls. Yo-Yo said something back but you couldn’t make out what she had said. 

He broke the kiss, panting lightly as you both stared at each other for several seconds before he shook his head and you let out a giggle. Those two had to be the strangest and funniest couple you’d ever met. 

You felt his hardness against your thigh and you rubbed it. Damn, he was huge. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stretching your walls.

“You ready for Daddy to eat that pussy?” he asked as he took a step back, looking you up and down. 

Was the sky blue? Hell yeah, you were. 

You nodded enthusiastically as you pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. He watched you undress with hungry eyes, palming his erection. Once you took off your bra and panties you sauntered over to the bed, sitting down slowly before spreading your legs. 

He yanked off his shirt, revealing his large chest and broad shoulders, throwing it on the floor with your pile of clothes. He followed you up the bed, pulling on your legs to bring you closer to his face. 

“Damn shawty,” Fontaine murmured as he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, licking his lips at the captivating way your pussy glimmered in his dimly lit room. “All for me, huh?”

"All for you, Daddy," you sighed deeply in anticipation as you felt his breath on your sensitive cunt. His nose brushed against your clit, causing your thighs to tremble slightly.

Leaning on his forearms, his large hands rested atop your lower belly as he licked a warm stripe from your wet slit all the way to your clit, flicking it twice before closing his mouth around it. You could already tell that you wouldn’t last long.

“You taste good as fuck,” he praised, dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting your fresh juices. He slid his finger in, stretching you slowly as he licked around your clit, strong tongue pushing you closer to the edge. 

"Oooh just like that," you held the back of his head, moaning loudly, "Don't stop."

Your back arched off the bed, bringing your pussy closer to his talented mouth. Your thighs began to shake as your climax loomed. The sheer pleasure was almost too much for you. You tried to force your thighs closed, but Fontaine's hand pinned you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You inhaled sharply and sank back against the pillows as he inserted a second finger, pumping you faster.

“Fuuuuck!” you moaned even louder. 

He softly nibbled your clit, and the coolness of his golds was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge.

“I can feel it,” he moaned against your sensitive bud, slurping up all your juices, “Let it all out for Daddy.” 

His filthy words and the calculated flicks of his tongue had your mind whirling and your heart pounding. Every mind-boggling wave of bliss flooded through your veins, causing you to shiver uncontrollably as you tugged on his locs. At the moment, you couldn't form any words. All you could do was pant harshly and let out all kinds of obscene noises.

When he finally felt your body go limp, he pulled off your clit and eased his fingers out of you. Fontaine planted a few soothing kisses on your thighs before sitting up.

Your eyes were still closed, and your breaths were finally slowing, but you could feel his eyes on you and hear him sucking his fingers.

You peeked through one eye and found him kneeling over you, completely naked now, stroking his massive dick as he watched you with a mischief glint in his dark eyes. 

“I see you smirkin’, nigga,” you blurted, pointing at him as you glowed blissfully.

He tried to cover his smile but you saw it anyway. He playfully smacked your hand and said, “I was just tryna make sure you wasn’t ‘bout to pass out on a nigga.” 

“Yeah, yeah..”

He continued to stroke his dick as he lay on his back beside you. You turned your head to the side to get a better look, and your mouth watered at the sight. 

"Come taste this dick," he commanded as he watched you ogle it.

You sat up on your knees and leaned forward, taking it in both your hands. He had to have been eight or nine inches in length and was very girthy; his dick curved to the left too. It had been a while since you gave head, but you were determined to make him feel good. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip. It was warm and velvety against your tongue. You let the soft feel of Fontaine's dick run over your tongue, relishing the taste as you took him down as far as you could go, breathing through your nose. He hissed lowly as the wet heat of your mouth engulfed him. 

You licked a wet stripe up and down the length of his shaft before rising up to close your lips around the crown, stroking the rest of his rod swiftly. 

You glimpsed up at Fontaine through your eyelashes. The heated stare he gave you was enough to make you feel lightheaded. His golds flashed at you as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. The sight had you dripping for him.

He moaned your name, stretching out his legs as he cupped the back of your head. You swirled your tongue around, drawing out a long groan from him as you flattened your tongue down the underside of his tip. He lifted his hips, thrusting up as he held your head in place. 

You moaned as he fucked up into your mouth, your left hand braced on his knee while the other fondled his balls. Tears pricked your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down as much as you could, gagging briefly as the tip of his dick slipped down the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped as he halted his movements and gripped your shoulder, “Stop before I nut.” 

You pulled off with a loud pop, placing one final kiss onto the swollen, spit-gleaming tip before climbing up his body and crushing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. His big hands roamed all over your body, squeezing your supple ass while he kissed you back just as sloppily.

"Aight, lay back for me," he murmured, breaking the kiss and pushing you onto your back, moving with a skilled quickness to put the magnum on before slotting himself between your spread legs. 

He lined himself up against your entrance, dragging his dick up and down your wet slit, only stopping to tap his fat tip against your sensitive clit, making you gasp and jerk beneath him in anticipation.

He slowly pushed inside, and your mouth fell open, but you quickly closed it, fighting back the scream that was about to escape.

“Shit,” he groaned deeply, pulling out a little once he was halfway in, and sinking back in, watching your pussy stretch around him. “You squeezin’ a nigga.” 

The pressure of the stretch stung, so you just bit your bottom lip, clung to the sheets and breathed deeply through your nose until the feeling subsided.

“You good?” he asked, voice laced with concern, stopping all movement when he realized just how quiet you were being. 

You opened your eyes, and his worried eyes swept your face, looking for any sign of pain. It was almost as though he was splitting you in two. You had to take a few more deep breaths in order to relax.

"Yeah, I'm good," you assured him as you let go of the covers and clung to his arms. "Your dick is huge, Fontaine goddamn."

He grinned at your confession and pulled all the way out before plunging back in, damn near knocking the wind out of you. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, legs spreading wider to grant him better access. 

Once he was buried deep inside you, you let out a moan so inviting that he couldn't resist lowering his head and capturing your lips with his. You stroked his cheeks and tugged him closer, kissing him with all the fervor you could muster.  

“Shit, you feel good,” he praised, moaning softly as he began to circle his hips. 

“Please fuck me harder,” you sighed deeply, hands moving down to cup your breasts.

He straightened up and began to thrust inside you, picking up the tempo once he established a good rhythm. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of your wetness, his hips slamming hard against yours, and heavy breaths.

“Fontaine,” you moaned breathlessly. He groaned in response as he was beginning to love the way you called his name. 

“You look so pretty takin’ all this dick,” he praised, grip on your thighs tightening as he fucked you even faster. Warmth spread across your chest at the praise, and more wetness oozed out of your tight hole.

His hand slid up your body, squeezing your breast while the other bounced freely. Listening to him groan and grunt in delight was music to your ears, and it made your clit throb harder.

The intensity of the pleasure washed over you until it was all you could feel pulsing through your veins. He was fucking you so good. When you realized how loud you were being, you snapped your mouth shut, stifling your moans.

"Nah, I want to hear you,” he growled low in your ear, thrusting harder and deeper, “Tell me how good Daddy dick feels.” 

You couldn't help but whimper as he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “You—ah shit—feel so fuckin’ good!”

“I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?” Fontaine chuckled cockily, gold chain dangling against your chin. 

“Yesss Daddy! Ple—please don’t stop,” you begged. 

“What a nigga get if he don’t stop?”

“Anything!” you cried out, squeezing your legs around him and holding onto his shoulders as he pounded you into the mattress. “Shit— Fontaine I’m ‘bout to cum,” you breathed shakily, toes curling as your eyes snapped shut. 

“I want that shit,” he grunted loudly as he felt your walls contract around him, “Cum all over this dick.” 

You sank your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard, muffling your screams of pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. He sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable pain and as your cunt clenched so tightly around him, cumming hard, creaming all over his dick.

He whispered soothing things to you as your body convulsed in his arms. He held you tighter as he traced kisses all over your face and down your neck, shifting his rhythm back to a gentle rock. 

Once you came to your senses, you opened your eyes and gasped at the teeth marks you had left on his shoulder.

“Oh shit Fontaine,” you whispered as you traced the bite mark with your thumb, “I ain’t mean to bite you.” 

“Nah, you good,” he huffed, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m actually into that shit.” 

“Good to know.”

He waited a few more seconds before pulling out. He climbed off of you, kneeled on the bed, and scooched back to give you room to move, “Hands and knees, Y/N.” 

You happily obliged by rolling onto your stomach and arching effortlessly on your hands and knees.

You and Fontaine moaned in unison when he entered you in one swift motion, hips smacking against your asscheeks as he set a brutal pace. This must have been his favorite position because he wasn’t fucking around this time. Your desperate whimpers and the wet sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom once again. You took every inch he gave you, arms stretched out in front of you, fingers gripping the sheets as you rocked back against him. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he grunted as he smacked your asscheek, “Fuck me back just like that.” 

His grip was so tight on your waist that you knew your hips would be sore in the morning. The thought alone made you wetter so you threw it back even harder.

It didn't take long for Fontaine to elicit another orgasm from you, causing your knees to buckle and slump against the mattress. He followed you down, chest pressed against your back, still pounding his thick dick inside you and panting against your ear.

As he placed all of his weight on you, his large hands wrapped around yours, fingers intertwining as he continued to give you the best dick you'd ever had. He was grinding so hard and deeply into you, muttering filthy words in your ear. The boundless pleasure was starting to become overwhelming. You couldn't cum again. You were almost certain that you'd pass smooth the fuck out if you came a fourth time. You needed him to cum. 

“Fon—fuuuuck! Please cum for me!” 

“You want Daddy to nut?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined, eyes rolling back as he brushed against your g-spot yet again. 

“Aight, c’mere,” He rose back up on his knees, tugging you along with him. You braced yourself on your hands and knees. He slowly rocked into you a few times before setting a merciless pace, fucking the breath right out of your lungs.

“Goddamnit,” you rasped, “You fuck me so good!”

As he repeatedly hammered away at your g-spot, all you could do was grab the sheets and scream his name. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. As your walls tightened around his fat dick, you trembled, gasping and whimpering. You were a mess. Another orgasm blasted through you, taking you both by surprise and blurring your vision. It took all your strength not to fall forward as your thighs shook violently.

Fontaine grunted loudly as he rutted against you like a mad man, smacking your asscheeks over and over, chasing his own orgasm. He let out a low, guttural groan, thrusts faltering as he twitched inside of you, cumming hard. 

You both panted harshly and were completely fucked out. Arms and legs weaker than SWV.

He trailed kisses down your sweat-glistening back before pulling out of you. Once he was free, you slumped all the way forward, your head resting against a pillow. He carefully pulled the condom off, tied it, and tossed it into the bin beside his nightstand before plopping down next to you. 

Still splayed out on your stomach, you scooched as close to him as you could, cupped his face, and just gazed down into his eyes as you swiped your thumb across his hairy cheek. 

He mirrored your gaze, his eyes less intense than usual, and wrapped his arm around your waist, massaging small circles into your lower back with the pads of his fingertips.

After a prolonged moment of silence, in-tune gazes, and soft caresses, you broke the silence and said, "That was fuckin' amazing."

He nodded his head in agreement so you asked him, “When can we do this again?” 

“Whenever you want,” he said before pulling you down into a tender, biting kiss. He sucked in your lower lip and licked into your mouth teasingly. You tugged on his bottom lip, softly sighing as you ran your tongue across his golds, shifting so you were half on top of him, chest to chest.

Good, you thought. Because you definitely planned on sticking around. Good dick and conversation? There was no way you were passing that up. 

“Goddamn ‘Taine! You ain’t have to upstage a pimp like that!” Slick Charles hollered through the walls. 

You broke the kiss, gasping at the random outburst. 

“Nigga, shut yo retired ass up!” Yo-Yo said just as loud.

Fontaine tried to hold it, but one look at your amused face had him chuckling and shaking his head fondly at his roommates.

[its-time-to-write]

Ohhh love to see you’re back! 💜💜💜💜

How about a Jaime x baker!girlfriend? Maybe she doesn’t really know who he is so when he acts all arrogant she just throws him out of her bakery? And he’s like “her! I want her! I’m in love! 🥰 🥰🥰🥰”

Still feeling a bit rusty lol. Next on the docket is the married at first sight fic. Not sure how long or short it’ll be but I’m doing my best!! Thanks for the requests🩵🩵

god, it’s brutal out here

“How many cakes do we have?” you mutter. “Four. Four cakes. I should’ve stuck to pastries. But nooo, I had to show off my fancy decorating. Fuck me.”

The door chimes, signifying the first customer of the day. You sigh, slap one more sticky note on the wall, then head to the front.

Today will be like every other day, which is nice; a revolving door of customers, some looking for a quick bite and others placing larger orders for weddings, birthdays, dinner parties. 

Baking is a ritual; you wake up early every morning, make a fresh cup of coffee, then begin mixing, kneading, and measuring. It’s a dance; you weave between the fridge, the oven, and the counters. It’s a science; you slice with precision, check temperatures for perfection, bake until golden.

Late in the afternoon, after you’ve closed, you’ll bring leftover bread and desserts to your flat for your friend group’s weekly dinner. Everyone will contribute something, from appetizers to mains to drinks. The weather is nice enough that dinner will be in your backyard and you mentally choose dishes as you take customer orders. 

Your bakery closes in five minutes when the bell jingles once, twice, three times. You sigh. Three fucking closers. 

The last is a man around your age and you won’t lie, he’s objectively good looking. But his teeth are just a little too sharp and his clothes are just a little too flashy. He’s like one of those frogs, brightly colored so you know they’re poisonous.

He rattles off a long order without giving you a moment to really take it down and then just stares expectantly at you when you tell him the total.

“Cash or card..?” you ask after a beat. The man tilts his head.

“Neither..?” he replies, mirroring your tone. “I’m Jamie Tartt.”

You grimace. “And you expect free pastries because your last name is on the menu?”

“I’m Jamie Tartt,” he says again. “I’m like, really fucking famous.”

He has a stupid grin plastered on his face and you really can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

You stare at him in disbelief. “I don’t have time for this. I think you should go.”

Jamie’s a little shocked. It takes him a moment to actually register your words but he does. He turns on his heel and you lock the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief. Any thoughts of his beautiful face are distorted by his shit, entitled personality.

—

“I brought tequila,” says Dani with a grin. “And a friend.”

The dinner party is already in full swing but this is classic Dani. Always late, always with tequila, always with a surprise.

“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours,” you reply. “Everyone’s out back. Flo’s grilling and Ed’s in charge of music.”

You and Dani shake your head. Ed should not be in charge of music. 

“I will go fix this,” Dani says and then he’s off, leaving you alone with his friend.

You turn to introduce yourself and see-

“Jamie Tartt,” you state. It’s all you can do to hold in a snarl.

“Hey,” he says, and at least he’s sheepish. How someone like him is friends with Dani is beyond you.

It does make a little bit more sense, though. Dani is a footballer (you know that at least) so you’re assuming Jamie must be in that world as well. You should have known, he was the exact type of pretty and stupid you’ve found most footballers to be, professional or otherwise.

“What’s your problem?” you ask bluntly. “You’re friends with Dani, but you’re an entitled dick. How does that work?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears tinge red. “I- it’s not like that. I mean, it fucking was like that but not anymore and besides- was flirting.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“It’s true!” he hastily continues, “just were doing a piss-poor job. Didn’t come out like I meant it to.”

“You can say that again,” you agree and Jamie flinches, slightly.

“I am sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to be a prick. Roy says it’s just the way I am, it’s in my fucking bones or something. I’m working it though,” he adds. “I can tell you about sometime. Maybe over dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you seriously asking me out right now?”

Jamie shrugs. “What have I got to lose? You already look like you fuckin’ hate me. Can’t get much lower than that.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Going to ask need a drink first though. If you’re friends with Dani you’ve got to have something going for you, but I still think you’re a bit of a prick.”

Jamie smiles. “I can work with that, love. Let’s get you that drink.”

[grille-thrill]

New Jewish Cemetery, Riga, Latvia

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 4 – The Barbeque

Series masterlist

Chapter Summary: Saturday brings a barbeque, a whole lot of flirting, and a perfect storm of tension that might just push you and Joel to the brink of something new. Rating: Mature Tags/warnings: flirting, sexual tension, smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU!No outbreak. Word Count: 3.1k

Taglist: @mysterialee@amyispxnk @ghostofzion-blog

The Texas heat is almost unbearable even when you wake at just past seven the next morning. Laying in bed,  you can still feel the ghost of Joel’s hand against your jaw, the gentle way his fingers tangled in your hair, the delicate fan of his breath mingling with yours. The memory keeps you in bed a little longer, has you pressing your own hand beneath the waistband of your shorts. You come hard to the thought of Joel’s expression as he looked at you from the doorway of the garage, the intoxicating pull of his eyes. You wonder how his fingers – that trailed so dexterously across your cheek not twelve hours ago – would feel pressed against your core, if they would dip inside you, laying pleasure upon pleasure as he watched you with that same dark, intense expression.

Eventually, you force yourself to get up and dress. You pull on the bikini your brought with you – white, with sculped edges and long ties that you double knot – and then don your favourite sundress, one that you’ve been saving for a special occasion. Examining yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but feel a little nervous, your stomach squirming uncomfortably. Last night, Joel had been seconds from kissing you, his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you up to meet his hungry lips. And God, the thought of it makes your toes curl, your thighs press together.

But there’s anxiety there, too.

It’s been months since you broke up with your boyfriend back home, the same one you’d been with throughout your entire time at university and the gap years between. The thought of starting something new with someone else feels terrifying in so many ways. What if Joel decides he doesn’t like you, or want you? What if he’s hesitant, or unsure, and it ruins all of the hard work you’ve done over the past few months, convincing yourself you’re deserving of love and affection?

You close your eyes against the image in the mirror, refusing to let yourself fall into old habits of self-criticism, and take a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly. You focus on thinking about Joel’s easy smile and his calloused, warm hands. You think about his broad, strong shoulders and the dark lock of hair that always falls across his forehead. The nerves die away a little, replaced by anticipation and excitement. You open your eyes again, look yourself in the eye and repeat the words Diana said to you on Wednesday. “Flirt your ass off.”

Five hours later finds you and Danny lugging a slightly rusty beer cooler over to the Cuthberts’. Theirs is the biggest lot on the road, a sprawling house surrounded by a flawlessly mown front lawn and backed by huge garden, complete with a patio – almost certainly larger than your entire flat back in London – and a tiled, picture-perfect swimming pool. You let out a low whistle as you and Danny round the house into the garden, taking in the two-tiered, five-grill barbeque in the centre of the patio and the array of chairs, sofas and tables laid out on the decking. There are no other guests yet, but you find yourself searching Joel out anyway, peering around the potted palm trees and oversized plant pots.

Mr Cuthbert, a large, jovial man in a bright Hawaiian print shirt, slaps Danny convivially on the back and introduces himself – “call me John”, he says, offering you a wink which you steadfastly ignore.

You and Danny put the beer cooler in a shady part of the patio and help John fill it with the beers from his drinks fridge – a separate appliance than his usual fridge, he proudly informs you as he hands you bottles of wine, premixed cocktails, sodas, and beers. By the time you’re done, a few guests have trickled into the garden, all carrying more drinks and food.

Slowly, the garden and deck fills up with neighbours and friends. You stand near the kitchen in the shade, leaning against the cool stone of the house, your eyes fixed on the gate, watching with anticipation as each newcomer arrives. You hear Sarah before you see her or Joel, catch the end of a shout of her infectious laughter as the two of them come into the garden.

Joel’s in tinted sunglasses that reflect the garden back at you, his hair brushed back from his forehead, dark and thick and streaked with a few errant greys. He’s wearing a loose-fitting linen Henley and a pair of shorts that show off the tanned vee of collarbone and chest, the bottom of his thick thighs. He says something to Sarah, points her in the direction of a group of similarly-aged kids and she darts off, leaving Joel to survey the garden. When his eyes find yours – or rather when his sunglasses reflect your own figure – he breaks into an easy sideways grin, holds up one hand in greeting.

You told yourself you would play it cool, ease into the flirting, but before his hand has even returned to his side you’re darting towards him, sidestepping a toddler and two middle aged women. He meets you halfway across the garden, taking large steps that cover the distance to the deck easily.

“Hey,” You say when you meet.

“Hi.” He replies, and he draws his sunglasses up off his face to rest on the top of his head, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he does.

“I’m disappointed,” You say, gesturing at his shorts and shirt, “I was promised a toolbelt and workmen’s boots.”

He laughs at this, a deep, throaty chuckle that comes right from his chest.

“Toolbelt’s just at home, if you want me to go and get it.”

“Maybe later.” You reply, smirking.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

You follow him to the beer cooler and watch as Joel plucks two bottles out of the icy water, opens the tops with one hand. The simple gesture shouldn’t be so goddamn attractive, shouldn’t make blood rush to your cheeks and heat pool in your belly, but it is and it does. He hands you one of the beers, and your fingers brush his warm knuckles as you take it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in response, his eyes flashing in the bright sunlight. You can feel the blush hot on your face just from these tiny, pathetic touches, slick already pooling in your core, dampening the bikini bottoms under your sundress. You clear your throat and Joel nods to a quiet corner of the deck where a loveseat lies unoccupied. You follow him to it, sink into its plush cushioning. Joel sits beside you. He's so broad that he takes up more than half of the sofa, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles. You both look out over the garden, at where Sarah and the other kids are having an intense discussion in a tight cluster.

“She really enjoyed that math lesson you gave her,” he says, musingly, “won’t stop goin’ on about it. Never seen her so keen to be over at Connie’s before, either.”

“She’s really bright.” You reply, turning to him.

“No idea where she gets that from.”

You roll your eyes at him, cross one leg over the other, watch as Joel follows the movement with his eyes, drags his gaze up your bare thigh to the hem of your dress.

“’s a nice dress,” he says, the drawl of his accent stealing away the first syllable.

“Thanks. I’d been saving it for a special occasion.”

“This a special occasion?” He asks, gaze flicking from your bare thigh to your face, the trace of a mischievous smile playing on his plush lips.

“You tell me.” You reply, letting your own mouth curve into a grin.

There’s a splash from the pool and you both turn to see Sarah emerging from the water, face cracked into a wide smile as her friends jump in after her. Joel shakes his head, laughing.

“Always gotta be the first one in.” He says, and you laugh too, watch as Sarah splashes another girl.

“You going in?” You ask, as a few adults start sitting at the side of the pool to dip their toes in and slowly climbing in after the kids. “Not a chance.” He says, “I ain’t a swimmer.”

“That’s a shame.” You say, standing up and pulling the sundress up over your head, “Would’ve been nice to have some company.”

Joel’s eyes travel over your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and waist, the swathes of bare skin. His gaze makes you feel self-conscious, but his expression is awe-struck, reverent, like he’s looking at something sacred. His pupils are blown wide despite the bright sunlight, cheeks reddening. The hand clutching his beer is white-knuckled, the other twitching where it rests in his lap like he wants to reach out and trace the path of your curves. He swallows, Adam’s apple rippling in this throat.

“I’ll be jus’ fine watchin’, darlin’.” He says, his voice hoarse.

You waste no time sliding off your sandals and darting towards the water. It’s immature, maybe, but you’ve never been able to resist diving headfirst into water. The pool is cool, fresh: perfect in the intense Texan heat. Sarah giggles as you resurface, splashes you with a back hand. You spend the next half-hour messing about with her, having handstand competitions and lying on your backs to float idly. Every time you let your gaze wander to where Joel is sitting, he’s watching you, his expression intense. He looks away the first few times you catch him, but after the fourth time he lets himself watch you, raises his beer to his lips and takes a sip. When he draws the bottle away, there’s a droplet on his lip. His tongue darts out to catch it, and you have to press your legs together in the water to dull the ache. This man, you think, watching him wipe his mouth with the back of one large hand, veins standing out on his toned forearms, is going to be the death of me.

After a few more minutes you’re starting to feel the cold, fingertips wrinkling in the water. You float over to the side of the pool and push yourself up onto the side. Droplets run down your stomach and legs as you stand up, goosebumps rising in their wake. You turn to look for where you left your bag and towel, but suddenly warmth is engulfing you, a soft, fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“Here,” Joel’s voice from behind you, his hands on your shoulders, draping the towel over you.

“Thanks.”

He steps back, lets his hands fall back to his sides.

“Water nice?” He asks, as you start to pat yourself dry.

“Refreshing,” You reply, looking up into his face.

“Looked it.” He’s standing close to you in the busyness of the garden, people milling around you both.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Looked… good.” He swallows again, tendons in his neck shifting. You want to put your lips to the flesh there, bite down onto rough skin, lick the stubble covering his jaw.

“I should go and get changed,” you say, nodding towards the house.

You step around him, start towards the kitchen door, turning to look behind you as you pick up your bag from where you left it by the beer cooler. Your eyes meet and the heat in his is almost palpable, rolling off of him in waves. You feel his gaze follow you as you step through the door into the cool air of the kitchen. Inside, you find the Cuthbert’s downstairs bathroom, shut the door behind you and lean back against it, your head spinning, heart pounding.

By the time you’ve changed back into your sundress, food is being served. You take a paper plate and let John load it up with chicken and a burger from the grill, then go and find a seat at a table with Danny, Connie, Joel and Sarah. You slide onto the bench next to Joel, letting your thigh brush against his and offering him a chaste smile when he raises a single eyebrow in response.

“How’s work, Joel?” Danny asks, swiping a blob of ketchup from his cheek.

“Oh, fine, thanks. Busy, at the moment.”

“Tommy alright? Not been getting into any more trouble?”

Joel laughs at this, shaking his head as he replies, “No more’n usual.”

Danny offers an understanding nod in response, and Sarah giggles, catching your eye across the table.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a happy, hazy buzz of food and conversation. Joel remains beside you, your legs pressed together on the bench seat. At some point, as Danny regales you all with a story of a traffic incident he witnessed last week, Joel stretches out, raising his hands over his head. When he brings them down, he lays his arm along the back of the bench behind you. You lean ever so slightly into him, imagining how it would feel if he slipped his arm down from the wood onto your shoulders. When you lean your head back to look up at the clear sky, you let it rest on his forearm, feel the heat of him seep through the hair at the nape of your neck through to your skin. The garden has started to empty now; the sky is slowly turning a pale, picture-perfect pink as the evening draws in. Danny lets out a long, steady sigh and pushes himself to his feet.

“We should get back to Nana,” he says to Connie, who nods and stands, “but you stay on as long as you like.” He adds to you, helping Connie pull on her cardigan.

You and Joel wave them off. Sarah leaves too, tired from the day, a little bored now the other teenagers and kids have left.

“Shouldn’t stay too much longer,” you say, looking around at where Mrs Cuthbert is collecting glasses up.

“No,” Joel agrees, but neither of you move.

His arm is still across the back of the bench, your neck now leaning against it. He flexes his hand, lets the tips of his thick fingers trace the skin on your bare shoulder, pulling up the strap of you sundress where it’s fallen down. The feeling of his hands on you is exhilarating and you shift in your seat, subconsciously begging him to keep touching you, to let his hand trace your shoulder to your collarbone, to dip down beneath the neckline of your dress to your bare breasts. He doesn’t, of course – there are still plenty of people in the garden – but he does leave his fingers where they are, just resting against your shoulder. Minutes pass. The tension between you seems to be building irreversibly, all the flirtatious banter and playful teasing from earlier gone, replaced by heavy silence and a kind of buzz in the air that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

Joel clears his throat after maybe ten minutes, runs his free hand up the leg of his shorts, wiping his palm which, if he’s feeling anything like you, is sweaty with a heady combination of anticipation and nervous energy.

“Should get back.” He says, his voice low, face turned to you so that the words are said against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,”

This time, you both move as one. You stand, slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you do, while Joel picks up his sunglasses from the table and slides them into the vee of his Henley. You both call hasty goodbyes to the Cuthberts, thanking them for the food and hospitality. And then you’re leaving the garden, stepping out of sight of the deck into the small alley between the house and the fence. You’ve hardly taken more than two or three steps before you both break.

Joel rounds on you as you grab him by his shirt. Crowding you against the wall of the house, he fists a hand in your hair and draws your mouth up to his. The kiss is frenzied, passionate right from the moment your lips meet. He groans from somewhere deep in his chest, licks his tongue into your mouth, his teeth grazing your lips, bruising them. His hand caresses your jaw, fingers spanning your face, cradling it as he kisses you. It’s intoxicating. You reach up to thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing yourself up onto tiptoes to card them through his curls. You moan into his mouth, let your tongue lick into his mouth, his stubble tickling your face, harsh and scratchy in contrast to his soft lips.

He pulls back, rests his forehead against yours, both of you panting.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He whispers, leaning down to place open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw. “I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate.”

“Joel…” It’s all you can say as he nips at your collarbone, runs his fingertips down your sides, hands searching out the flesh of your ass, pulling you to him, bending so that he can slide one thick thigh between yours. The movement brings his hips flush with yours, the line of his hardening cock pressing into your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You grind against him, pressing your cunt into his thigh, seeking out friction. He hisses into your open mouth as he drags his hips against yours, cock trapped between your rutting bodies – a hot, thick line against you.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he breathes, nipping and pecking at your lips, dragging a hot hand up your side to squeeze your breast.

“Please don’t stop,” You reply, gasping as his fingers find the hard nub of your nipple and pinch, pleasure coursing through you like adrenaline.

The whole thing is ridiculous: you’re pressed against the wall of your neighbour’s house, Joel’s hands mapping out the curves of your body as he kisses you. Anyone could see, anyone could come round the path from the garden but neither of you seem to be capable of caring. The dam has burst and it’s all you can do to cling to each other, rocking your hips together, seeking out friction. It’s only when you slide a hand between your bodies, seeking out the hard line of Joel’s cock that he pulls back. His lips are swollen, eyes entirely black in the low light.

“We can’t do this,” he says, “not here.”

And then you’re both laughing, the absurdity of the entire situation overcoming you. When you calm down, still breathing heavily, Joel draws your face between his hands and presses another kiss to your lips.

“I want to,” he says, stroking his thumb along your cheekbone, “Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

“Me neither,”

“Sarah’s staying at Tommy’s on Friday.” He says, “Come over. I’ll cook dinner, or take you out. I’ll treat you right, like you deserve.”

“Friday?” You say, “That’s a long way away.”

You push yourself onto tiptoes to kiss him again, draw his bottom lip into your mouth and he groans against you, his hips canting forward so that his cock drags against your hip.

He pulls away, rasps, “Shit, darlin’. You’re making me crazy.”

“I’ll be over on Tuesday, for Sarah.” You say, “I’ll stay until you get back from work.”

“You make it really hard to say no.”

“Then don’t say no.”

“Okay. But I’m taking you for dinner on Friday too. Don’t say I don’t know how to treat a woman.”

“Joel Miller, I don’t think anyone could ever say that.” And you press another kiss against his lips, smiling into it.

When you get home a few minutes later, your lips bruised and your head buzzing, there’s already a text in your inbox.

I’ll leave the toolbelt on for Tuesday. J

[labrat8899]

I love that Dr. Orpheus drops his magic and starts grilling Rusty like a disappointed dad when he realizes something is not quite right.

And I have many questions about the orphan Rusty used. Where did he find it? How did he get the boy? And if he didn’t use all of it where the hell is the rest of him?

[newobsessionweekly]

Let me help you

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Eddie Diaz x Reader Fandom: 911

Summary: Eddie keeps secrets from you and he doesn’t let you help him.

Warnings: Mention of injury, angst ?

A/n: Good to be back in town, after a two years break I think. Don’t be so harsh on me rn, i’m a bit rusty.

Requested: No

Words: 1.4k Requests are open for Eddie / Buck! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

The night life of the never settled Los Angeles just began when you carefully caressed Christopher’s hair.

“Mom, can you tell me a story, please ?” it was one of those nights when Eddie would come back late, take a shower and hit to bed, avoiding your eyes before he’d kiss you goodbye in the morning. It was one of those lonely nights again, when the light Christopher bought into your day would fade away with just a blink.

Calling you ‘mom’ wasn’t something new, but it made your smile grew bigger and bigger every damn time. Christopher is a very special kid despite his problems and has a very special place in your heart. You love him just as much as it was yours and mainly because you love Eddie so much, the good with the bad, together.

“Aren’t you a little bit old for bedtime stories ?” you raised your eyebrow and smiled when he started laughing mischievously. “Alright then, hm…” you paused trying to come up with a story for him despite the fact you suck at improvising. “Once upon a time, there was a little red truck parked in a drive-through along with his family. The daddy truck was so mad at the little one because he didn’t want to become a transport truck just live everyone in his family, he wanted to be a fire truck and help the firefighters save lives. But daddy truck didn’t understand him and grounded him for being a naughty truck, stopping him from going to the fire truck school-“

“There’s a school for fire trucks?” Christopher’s eyes lights up with joy and he chuckles excitedly for you to carry on with the story.

“Of course there’s a school for fire trucks. And the little truck really wanted to go to that school, but when his father came between him and his dream, he drove off to Los Angles first thing in the morning. And he became a fire truck helping the 118 station save people. His father was very proud of him after all. “

“Mom, is dad mad at me like the daddy truck was mad at little truck? Will dad ground me for being a bad kid?”

His question concerned you. “Of course not, kiddo!” you jumped, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’re the best kid in the world and your dad loves you so much. You didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t upset him at all!”

“Why he’s not playing with me anymore? I haven’t seen him since yesterday before he left for work.” his excitement fade away as his eyes filled with nothing but sadness.

“Your daddy is working hard lately, that’s all. Today he’s helping Buck move in a beautiful big house with a barbecue grill.” you tried to cheer him up with a little lie that won’t hurt anyone. You couldn’t just tell him you didn’t know where his father was spending his days.

“Will Buck invite us over for barbecue?” his million questions per day were driving you insane.

“I’mma kick his ass if he doesn’t!” Christopher laughed and you tucked his blanket under his chin. “Now you go to sleep and tomorrow we’ll gonna punish dad to make us pancakes for breakfast!”

“Yay!” Chris cheered. “Good night!”

“Nighty night, kiddo!” you were ready to close the door when his words took you by surprise.

“I love you, mom!”

“I love you too!”

It was half past midnight when the front door opened revealing Eddie dressed from head to toe in black clothes, a black hoodie darkening his features.

His eyes searched for you under the pale light coming from the hallway, slowly making his way to the bathroom. You stopped him halfway.

“Uh-huh. This time you’re not walking away from me like that.” you stood up this time after countless of nights where he either slept with his back facing you or on the couch.

“Y/n, please, I really need to take a shower.” he tried pushing you away, but you were faster uncovering his head. Red and purple marks were painted all over his face especially around his beautiful brown eyes.

Your eyes flooded with tears as your hands covered your mouth by instinct. Your body started shaking in fear of what might’ve happened to your boyfriend and the words couldn’t find their way up to your mouth. Not sure if your brain was arranging the words into a phrase.

“What the hell happened ?” you whispered though all you wanted was to yell and mark him with another purple spot.

“It’s nothing, I just got into a fight.” you took his face into your hand to inspect it and before you rush out searching for first aid kit, you took a second inspecting other vital parts of his that could’ve been injured.

A warm liquid covered your hand as you reached his lower left side of his abdomen. Your eyes went wider as you looked at him. He looked back at you trying to push away from you.

“To the bathroom, now.” you demanded.

You let the water wash out the blood that strained his body before inspecting him little by little. A bandage now covered his fists as you prepared to stitch the cut on his stomach.

“I can take care of myself, you know?” he finally broke the deafening silence that had come upon you. Eddie knows you’re pissed off, he could hear your thoughts and all of them are either calling him names or yell at him.

“Would you shut up and let me help you?” you ducked at him.

“I don’t want you to clean up my mess!” Eddie argued.

“Shut up and let me take care of you, not asking this time.” you cleaned up the wound as you were instructed by Eddie a couple of months ago. “Or if you’re so eager to speak, please do tell me what in the world happened to you. I stopped waiting for you a couple of nights ago, but Chris didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Eddie’s voice cracked as his eyes filled with tears, an image that broke you once more, you now ready to forgive and forget. “ It’s been really hard for me. Paying for Christopher’s medication and then for school and after that for someone to look after him when i’m doing shifts. I can’t handle it financially or psychically.”

“Babe, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” you caressed his head, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I’ve got you. I’m helping you with Chris, don’t worry about it.” you wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

It broke you seeing him losing hope and refusing every help he’s receiving. It pains you even more seeing him break down in your arms, unable to take away all of the suffering that’s been darkening his mind.

“I don’t want you to help me with Christopher. I don’t want you to have to pay for anything. I don’t want you to lose another night taking care of him instead of having fun-“ you cut him off.

“I would do anything for you and Chris especially to help you quit those illegal fights. What would you do if you’d lose your job because of them ? How you helping Chris if you don’t have a job?” Eddie eyes went bigger as he lifted his head to look at you. He felt ashamed, weak, powerless.

“Know about that ?” he asked.

“Of course I know about that. Buck was concerned about your bruises, called in to make sure I’m not abusing ya.” Eddie’s shoulders dropped a little bit of the weight they’ve been carrying and he allowed himself to giggle. “It’s a stupid thing that’s not only hurting you, but Chris, me, everyone around you. If you don’t wanna quit for yourself, at least do it for Christopher.” you looked once more at his wound and the beautifully arranged stitches.

“I’m doing that only if it’s for Christopher and you.” you rolled your eyes at his mischievous smirk.

“Fine.” you mouthed. “But you’re grounded for at least a week to make us pancakes every morning.”

“That’s not punishment, that’s torture!”

[gardens-light]

Something Unexpected

Between debt collectors and the bank flooding the mailbox with eviction notices. Your father's positive attitude could no longer smooth out complications. And you once thought life on the farm couldn't get any harder...

Recent days- no months has been nothing but tough. This never ending sea of bad situations happening one after another, begun to drown and suffocate you. Feeling like you could barely keep float, while working two jobs. Attempting to keep some money flowing in.

But the universe has finally offered you a break. Something that could change you and your family's life forever...

Content: Reader insert. Event take place in 'Transformers- Age of Extinction' (Minor spoilers.) Mild coarse language.

Sparkmate Series- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Hey, sis! I'm home!" Tessa shouted as she stepped out of her car and onto the driveway. "Lucas and dad has gone to the next town, so they won't be back for a couple of days."

Looking around the family farm, a heavy sigh left her as you were nowhere to be seen.

"Seriously..."

Making her way to the barn, Tessa called out for you. This time getting a response.

"Are you working with lasers? If so, I'm not coming in-"

"You have never seen a truck like this before!" your excited tone cut her off as you abruptly open the barn door. "Get in here. Lock the door."

Tessa raised an eyebrow as you grabbed her arm, pulling her inside the barn. While she closed the door behind her. "It doesn't have a lock..."

"Y'know that rusty ass truck dad brought in a few days ago? Look! Look at the hole in the radiator."

Tessa rolled her eyes at your enthusiastic tone, as you placed an arm through the grill. "Look at the size of it! Something blew a hole in it!"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's not normal steel! The shrapnel in the engine, it ripped all the connections apart."

Tessa watched you fractally climb the scaffolding which brung you a little more to the truck's engine level. Rubbing her temples as a sigh left her.

"I honestly don't know who's worse. You or dad-"

"Dad is going to lose his fucking mind, when he finds out what we've got! And watch! Watch!"

Your sister rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. Her unimpressed gaze watching as you took hold of two jumping cables.

"This took some family genius. You're gonna love this, sis! Just watch what happens when I hook this thing up to a working battery."

Placing the clamps onto the battery, the rusty old truck rumbled and shook in it's place. Headlights flickered as the engine inside failed to roar to live. But the deep robotic voice coming from the vehicle made Tessa's jaw drop.

"Calling all... Calling all Autobots..."

Throwing the cables aside, allowing the rusty truck to slowly die again. Tessa watched you jump for joy, while her stomach did a backflip.

"Oh yea!" you cheered. "I don't think this is a truck at all... I think we just found a Transformer!"

"Are you out of your mind? You need to get that thing out of here!"

"You don't have to worry" you called out, jogging after Tessa as she quickly left the barn. "I've been working on it all night. And look at me. I'm fine-"

"This isn't one of Dad's random piles of junk! It's an alien killing machine!-"

"Sis, it's DOA. Nothing is gonna happen."

Tessa ran a hand through her blonde locks, as she began to pace in front of you. "This isn't happening! This isn't happening!"

"Tessa-"

"Listen! I-I remember Lucas telling me about a number that you call- that you're supposed to call. He said something about you're supposed to call a number, and if something ends up being alien. Then you get twenty-five grand."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." You crossed your arms. "Nobody just hands out large sums of money- especially the government-"

"Y/N, I'm making the call." Tessa's fumbled through her pockets.

"I've seen the commercial. It isn't a guarantee" you protested snatching the mobile out of Tessa's hand and taking a step back.

"Look! If that's a Transformer from the Battle of Chicago. Dad's gonna lose his mind! If I could figure out how it works and apply that technology to his inventions. We wouldn't need to worry about money again-"

"Yeah! That's why you're working two jobs!" Tessa got onto her tiptoes as you held the phone above your head, slightly out of her reach.

She slightly pushed you, quickly grabbing the falling mobile. You both sighed, just giving each other side glances while pausing for a moment.

"Twenty-five grand, Y/N. It pays for the house. It pays for my collage."

"Please Tessa. Please" your begging tone caused a sigh to escape your sister. "Let me do this, and... and I'll do your chores for a week- A month!"

"No. I'm making the call and telling dad-"

"Keep this a secret and I'll... I'll won't tell dad about your boyfriend!"

Tessa's stiff body language made you smile. Stopping in mid-dail as she studied your features.

"I... I don't have a boyfriend"

"Yes you do" your teasing tone unsettled your sister's nerves. "Well at least I hope it was your boyfriend I saw last week, and not some pervert climbing out of your window in the middle of the night. And wearing nothing but his shirt and underwear, may I add"

Tessa bit her bottom lip, "you saw Shane...?"

"Saw him? Girl, I heard him falling out of the window and onto the damn roof. I'm surprise Dad didn't hear anything."

Tessa hesitated before speaking. Groaning at your smug smile.

"Ugh fine! But if you die I'm stealing your laptop!"

"Deal!... You just might wanna delete my browser history first..."

---

" I think the shrapnel took out your power core" you muttered to the rusty machine.

Your legs dangled outside of the truck, while your torso hung inside the engine. Grabbing random bits of shrapnel, lose nuts and bolts, and throwing them over your shoulder.

"Hmm... what this?"

Reaching out for a shiny silver cylinder, roughly tugging it out of the engine and holding it against your chest. As you pushed yourself back onto the scaffolding. Pushing your goggles up onto your forehead, examining the unusual object.

Climbing down the scaffolding and powering up your wielding machine. Hovering the fire torch over the metal, cocking your head to the side.

"Nothing... perhaps you have a higher melting point- oh shit!"

The flame of the torch ignited sparks from the cylinder. Screaming you dropped it, accidently allowing it to fly around the barn. Ricocheting off the walls and floor, banging into the truck and knocking the scaffolding over. Before breaking through the wooden barn door and flying into the house.

Tessa's screams could be heard from the house, as the missile slid around on the floor, going from room to room.

The sound of groaning metal plates shifting caught your attention, your eyes widening as you watched the truck grow taller. Cogs and gears made unhealthy churning noises, as the now 22ft tall robot struggled to get onto his feet.

"I'll kill you!" the machine's voice groaned, as you scattered away.

"Hold on! Hold on!" you cried out. Looking over your shoulder, as Tessa's screams echoed throughout the barn.

The machine pulled out a giant cannon from his back, backing away from you and Tessa, while aiming the intimidating weapon at you both.

"I'll kill you! Stay back!-"

"No! No! Don't shoot!" you yelled, stepping in front of Tessa. Attempting to shield her.

The robot's blue optics studied you carefully, watching your body language as you cautiously stepped towards him. Holding your hands in the air.

"Easy, human"

You slowly nodded before speaking, looking up at the robot as he groaned while sparks spat out of his mechanical joints.

"Weapon systems... damaged-"

"A missile hit your engine" you explained. "And we took it out of you. You're hurt really bad, but you're safe now. You're in my home."

He scanned his surroundings, looking at the messed up barn. A cough echoed from within his chest plate, as dust came out of his mouth.

Getting a little closer, the machine's gaze returned to you as he knelt to the ground.

"I'm trying to help you. My name is Y/N Yeager, I'm an engineer." You reached out for Tessa, whom hesitantly took your hand. "And this is my sister, Tessa."

"Y/N... Tessa. I'm in your debt... my name is Optimus Prime."

You turned back at Tessa, "it's alright. He won't hurt us."

"Wh-What happened to you..?" she asked, not letting go of your hand.

"We... We were ambushed. A trap set by humans. I escaped and took this form." Optimus' voice groaned and coughed. As he withdraw his weapon, allowing it to retract back into his back plates.

"But you're on our side. Why would humans want to hurt you?-"

"They weren't alone... ah! My Autobots! They're in danger!"

Optimus tried to get up again, but his legs gave way. Causing him to fall back down onto his knees and cough up engine fluid, as a part of his headpiece fell to the ground with a loud clang.

"I must go to them now. They can... repair me."

"How far do you think you'll get?" you questioned in a calm tone. "With all this damage, you'll wouldn't make it to them."

Optimus watched you carefully pick up his headpiece.

"But let me help. I can fix you."

Tessa's worried eyes glanced between you and Optimus, as he hesitated before speaking.

"Very well... for now. We have a truce..."

---

"Go in dad's shed, rumish through anything- everything he has. Try and find things on that list."

Tessa grabbed your arm, as you both stood outside the barn.

"Wait! You're gonna try and fix him?" she protested. "He's not a model train set, Y/N!-"

"You're right. He's important-"

Tessa raised an eyebrow, "important to who? You can't keep an alien locked up in Dad's barn. What are you gonna do? Play with him?"

A heavy sigh left your lungs before speaking, "calm down. Just please... calm down-"

"I'm trying to! But a moment ago that rusty ass truck you wouldn't stop messing with, turned into a fucking giant thing!-"

"You still promise not to say anything?"

A half-hearted chuckle left Tessa, as she stared at you in disbelief. "That's your concern right now?-"

"Look! Look! Dad and Lucas is gone for a couple of days, right? That's all I need to get him in a decent state. Once he's fixed, I promise you. He'll be gone. But I need you to stay quiet!-"

"Fine! Fine!" she breathed heavily before snatching the list out of your hand. "But you owe me big time for this! Big time!"

---

"You took one hell of a hit, y'know." You said while placing a molten bit of scrap steel into a bucket of water. "The missile just missed your power source."

"We call it a Spark." Optimus watched you climb up the reassembled scaffolding. Coming to the height of his chest plate, your eyes sparkled in the gentle blue glow of his Spark. "It contains our lifeforce, and our memories."

You flashed him a warm smile before pulling down your goggles. "We call that a soul..."

A low rumble came from Optimus, as he felt your hands carefully place the scrap piece of metal against the opening in his chest plate. Taking your time to weld it into place, while he placed a hand over his Spark. Protecting it from the ambers that occasionally left the fire torch.

The leader of the Autobots gazed down at you. Remaining silent as he watched you solder away.

It wasn't the first time a human patched him up. Back at N.E.S.T, there's been multiple times when soldiers put him back together after a mission. But with you, it was somehow... different.

Your touch was gentle. Each movement was careful and mindfully placed. You even welded things onto him in a cautious manner. It was like you treated Optimus like he was some sort of antique, rather than an millennium old alien being.

"Y/N..."

You looked up at him. Turning off the fire torch and placing your goggles back onto your forehead.

"Why are you willing to help me?" Optimus asked, as he pulled out a large bullet shell from his shoulder plate, and flicking it away.

You felt the Autobot study you, examining every feature upon your face and reading your body language. As you slowly leaned back against the railings of the scaffolding.

"I guess... maybe because you trust me to."

Your words were simple and true. Optimus couldn't detect any lies or waver within your voice nor tone. His scanners didn't read anything out of the ordinary from your relaxed posture.

Perhaps... I've judged too quickly...

"Is it... just you and your sibling?" Optimus asked, trying to make small talk.

You squinted at a few bolts, while holding them up to the Autobot. Judging weather they were right for the next job.

"Yes- well actually no. Our dad lives here- he owns the family farm. But he isn't here." You explained, while putting the bolts down and moving onto different sized ones. "He's in the next town over for the next couple of days. Working- well, selling some inventions."

Optimus looked around the barn, tilting his head to the side as his processors tried to make sense of the random machines and scrap bits of metal. "Are you an... inventor as well?"

A heartful chuckle left you, as you approached the Autobot. Tapping on his left leg, "no. No. I just help him put things together, or strip them down for parts. Whenever Dad has too many projects."

Optimus' groan quickly made you realize the tone of your sentence. You looked up at him.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything-"

"It's alright. None offence is taken."

Butterflies slightly fluttered in your stomach as his smile mimicked yours.

You quickly turned your attention back onto his leg. Making sure the bolt wasn't too tight.

Optimus noticed you trying to hide your blushing features. His smile grew wider, finding the action somewhat amusing. He watched you bend and stretch your body, after chucking the tool onto the workbench.

"You've been in here for hours. You should rest."

"I will later." You promised, "but first. Let's put your headpiece back on."

He speechlessly nodded, gently using a hand-crank to bring the scaffolding a little more to his height.

Gathering the tools required to put his headpiece back on, you climbed the scaffolding stairs. Reaching the top and placing the tools onto the metal floor of the scaffolding.

Optimus averted his gaze as you pulled off your hoodie. Allowing your torso to breathe in the light cotton tank top. You examined the wires and gears on the side of his head, tilting your head from side to side.

"I think the inside is fine. Your headpiece just needs to be welded back on." You spoke with a smile, placing your hands on your hips.

"I thank you, Y/N. Your assistance thus far has been appreciated beyond compare-"

"Don't go all soft on me now, Big Guy." You spoke with a smile. "Now eyes forward. You need to stay completely still while I do this."

Optimus faced the barn doors, as you pulled your goggles back into place. The headpiece slotted back in nicely, but you still held it in place as you welded the metals together.

His spark skipped a beat sometimes, whenever he felt your breath upon his metal plating. Through many years he's warned his Autobots about getting too attached to humans, yet here sat the infamous Optimus Prime, allowing a human he's just met for a few hours making him feel this way.

"All done, Prime!" your cheering voice snapped him out of his daze.

His optics falling upon your smiling face. Although you were covered in dirt and grime, to him you were the most beautiful human he ever set sight on.

"Thank you... I am in your debt-"

"Hush. Hush" you interrupted, pulling your goggles down and around your neck. "There's still plenty of work that needs to be done. So promise me you won't wander off."

A low chuckle rumbled in his voice, "I promise."

Your eyes glanced up and down at him, "and promise me one more thing?"

"Of course."

"When you do return to your Autobots... promise you won't forget about me..."

Tag List

@jellyfishxxi

[vaaaaaiolet]

You move to the big city in search of bigger and better, so naturally, you get your first place.

You just don't anticipate the roommate that comes along with it.

f / m, strangers / enemies to lovers, slow burn, hijinks and shenanigans, leon is bad at feelings :( but don't worry because there will be so much fluff omg like a romcom, leon being a little shit to a sweetheart pipeline, and banter!! so much banter

inspired by the Japanese drama Good Morning Call!

catch up on earlier chapters // read on ao3

chapter 3: being neighborly: a how-not-to

a/n: peep the change in tags :0 and the next chapter is already underway!

my writing skills are still pretty rusty eek!! but i had so much fun with this one.

burning question: is this length okay or are longer chapters preferred? i stuck with my earlier length for this update but i can def cover more per chapter. thoughts?

You do not get the master bedroom.

Leon the not-burglar is terrifyingly fast on his feet, you discovered last night after he took one look at the guest bedroom and promptly dropped his duffel bag in the room with the bigger bed. Shut the door, even. But that is the least of your worries as you wake up with a throbbing headache from your frosty new roommate’s 6:00 AM alarm. 

Could he get any more insufferable? You curl your pillow around your ears with a groan in an attempt to block out the horrific noise. After the short-lived triumph of your arranged living situation, you’re at a loss as to what the next 3 months with blond Patrick Bateman might entail. 

“...thought I’d drop by!” Leon’s chirpy, girlish voice rings out from the living room. 

What? 

You must have gotten less sleep than you thought. Somebody else is in your apartment, goddamn it, not another roommate, you pray as you tug on a sweatshirt and shuffle into the living room. Leon’s holding a tray of cookies wafting with fresh-baked steam as you enter, shooting you help me eyes as you pinpoint the source of his distress: possibly the cutest girl you’ve ever seen, standing next to him with her hair done in braids and chattering away.

You cross your arms and bite back a shit-eating grin. 

“Leon, you never introduced me to your friend!” you exclaim.

“She is not-”

The girl is more than happy to interrupt him, stretching out a hand for you to shake that you’re just as enthusiastic to accept. “I’m Lena,” she beams, ignoring Leon’s glare at you, “I’m your next-door neighbor!”

“That’s just wonderful,” you gush, plucking one of the cookies from Leon’s tray. “And you brought these too? You shouldn’t have.”

Lena’s all too happy to accept the praise, clapping her hands and giggling in delight as you bite into a cookie. Or at least you try to. The thing’s rock hard. Leon chuckles, covering it with a cough as you do your best to clamp your teeth through the petrified Palmier. 

“It’s a pleasure, really! Just the neighborly thing to do. We don’t get new neighbors often.” 

You grin painfully. “Ehh hah high…?” Is that right? 

“Ever since the new changes they started with the leasing contracts, people have been moving out left and right. Really sad,” Lena pouts, “I was such good friends with the other people who lived here. They were a couple just like you, just so lovely-”

“We’re not a couple!” you and Leon shout. You cough, partly to shrug off your outburst and partly to get the remnants of that asteroid of a cookie out your system. 

Poor Lena tilts her head like a confused puppy.

“We’re roommates.” Leon corrects. “She and I…” he glances at you with an expression akin to polite distaste, “we’re under the new contract. It’s complicated, like you said.” 

The energy in the room dwindles with Lena’s continued chitchat about practically every event in the history of the apartment complex. At least now you know to not go into the pool on Thursdays or risk food poisoning from Mr. Demopoulos’ grilling. Somehow, neither piece of advice is relevant right now in the beginning of December. Yawns wear out your jaw underneath the cover of your hand as Leon gives you pointed looks every so often, the tray somehow still in his hands after what must be at least 20 minutes of your new neighbor blabbing away. 

You want to giggle. He’s drowning in a white hoodie and looking more like a grumpy baker by the minute. 

This is all your fault, Leon glowers. His emotions are as hard to read as a neon sign in Vegas. 

But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and so does this part of your payback for him calling dibs on the bigger bed. Definitely not because Lena was starting to twirl her hair and giggle each time he’d make a passing comment to be polite. She’s mere seconds from pulling him down by the arm to sit on your couch (your couch!) before you put a stop to it, bemoaning your shift at the nearby ramen place that starts in half an hour.

Lena lights up; you grimace internally. “No kidding? I love that place! I love the Monday specials, I always get there earl-”

Leon butts in with the enthusiasm of the Energizer bunny. “Right, right, we wouldn’t want to keep you from starting your day. Monday mornings, right?” He leads her out by the elbow as you tag along, apologizing and insisting that you return her gracious favor one of these days.

“Bye Lena!” you wave cheerily as Leon locks the door with finality, and turns to face you. Super slowly.

Oops. 

“What the hell was that about?” 

Frustrated breath condenses past his lips in the frigid apartment air. Leon’s so stony-faced that you might have chiseled his perfectly straight nose yourself on a fine arts final.

“Nothing,” you shrug, shuffling into the kitchen to get some actual breakfast as Leon pads after you, “just wanted to get even for the bedroom thing.”

“The- you’re still hung up on that? I signed the lease first!” he argues as you slip bread into the toaster slot. Leon reaches his arm above your head to fish cereal out of the cabinet. Annoyingly, he'd had the sense to stock the kitchen after you passed out last night. “That’s my bread you’re using, by the way. And my toaster.”

“Learn to share. You’re such a child.” you snap back. The bite’s lost on him though, seeing as you’ve got your mouth stuffed with toast so it comes out more like a hamster with its mouth full. Your intimidation skills could use some work.

Unperturbed, Leon tosses dry cereal into his mouth. “Says the one who egged that crazy girl on! Would she have ever left on her own?”

“Lena’s not crazy, she’s a sweetheart!”

“A crazy sweetheart, call it what you will.”

“You’re being mean. I think she’s got a crush on you.” You delight in the groan you pull out of him. “She liiiikes you!” Your finger jabs into his side and sends him out of the kitchen entirely as he takes the box of Lucky Charms with him, and you chortle, clutching your sides.

Finally, you have the kitchen to yourself and peace in the house without Lena’s (frankly annoying) chatter and Leon’s alarm blaring in the back. You might even brew yourself a cup of tea. You could even-

“You’re late for work now!” a far too satisfied voice calls out from the other side of the apartment.

Shit. 

“And say hi to Lena for me when she comes in for the Monday special!” Leon adds, howling as you hightail it to the shower.

back to the chapter masterlist...

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[gyllenhaalstories]

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND (PART 2) — BARBARA & RUSTY SABICH

summary: with the help of a sweet neighbour, barbara takes a leap of faith. it is time for her to stop enduring and to start indulging instead, because... when she wakes up next to him in the middle of the night, with her head in her hands, she's nothing more than his wife.

warnings: presumed innocent spoilers, food, cheating, implied age gap, fluff, angst & smut (teasing, masturbation, voyeurism & exhibitionism, mild mommy kink, nipple play, finger sucking, pussy eating, fingering, threesome, cuckholding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 5050

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: READ PART 1 HERE. things took a turn... oops. i hope you enjoy giving rusty a taste of his own medicine, because i sure did. thank you again to @sizzlingcloudmentality for your encouragement and your prayers to the gods of smut so i could finish the story. wowie, that's around 9600 words in total. happy pride month i love women! (and rusty). thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"You look so good in that apron, sweetheart." Barbara praised you. She sat on the counter while you both enjoyed the last bites of the food you cooked for her. "It makes me want to take it off."

Your cheeks heated up at the last comment. "I thought you liked it?" Barbara answered your question by saying she liked what was underneath a lot more.

The front door opened. Heavy footsteps disturbed your idyllic dinner with the older woman. "Hello?" Rusty called out from the living room. He looked around, he recognized his wife's cardigan on the couch alongside pieces of clothing he had never seen on her... But he had seen them on his neighbour. You wore them on the morning when he caught Barbara talking to you by the mailbox. He swallowed thickly when he received the sound of giggles and hushes coming from the kitchen as an answer.

"Rusty. You're home early." Barbara spoke before an uncomfortable silence settled in. "Say hi, sweetheart."

"Hi." You smiled faintly at the man who squinted at you as if he could not believe his eyes. You turned around again. You smirked to yourself, thinking that maybe he could see his wife's happiness better if he put on his glasses.

Rusty's eyes switched between his wife's face and the back of your head. His gaze wandered down to your bare back. Only the band of your bra and the ties of the apron covered your skin. The rest was hidden from his view by the kitchen island. "What is going on?"

"She offered to make me dinner. Isn't she so sweet?" Barbara caressed your cheek with the back of her hand. She admired the smile she got in return. "I didn't know you'd be home before we were done." Oh, she knew. Rusty could feel it too. "Is there enough left for him?" You scanned the remaining ingredients and nodded. "Would you be a dear and make some for my husband?" She looked at the man. "You must be so tired from preparing this trial. There's so much at stake."

You sliced the rest of the green apple, chopped more walnuts and you turned on the stove top to heat the pan while you removed the crust of the brie cheese. You intended to make a special grilled cheese sandwich for your special neighbour... Rusty was not that special, at least, not to you. Obediently, you focused on your task and assembled the sandwich.

"No, no, no!... Hold on. What is going on?" Rusty asked again, determined to get to the bottom of the case. "A week ago she was in here and now she's... Here again. Half fucking naked? In my house?"

Barbara corrected him instantly. "Our house." She slid her body off the counter and glanced at you who flipped the sandwich carefully, minding your own business. "I don't remember you asking for my opinion when you were with Carolyn. I don't think I've heard you inquire about whether I was okay or not with you sleeping around with your colleague." The woman crossed her arms against her chest, shielding herself. "I don't owe you anything, Rusty." The words he blurted out were loud, filled with anger and misplaced resentment. Something along the lines of You don't owe me anything? I'm fighting for my life out there.

Poor little thing, you thought to yourself. You placed the toasted sandwich on a plate and used a large knife to cut it diagonally. You then turned around to face Rusty and dropped the plate before him. "Yeah and who's fault is that?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Rusty's eyes burned you with his rage, but he laughed at your audacity. "Who are you to talk to me that way?" You held his gaze. He was not much now either anyway. A demoted attorney about to be thrown in jail to rot for his crimes. That did not hold much power anymore. "Who are you to come into my... our house and bang my wife?"

"Shhh, easy, babygirl." B placed a soft, soothing hand on your exposed shoulder after fixing the bra strap that slipped. She let you know there was no point in you getting worked up that way. "We didn't bang yet." She repeated the word Rusty used with a hint of disgust in her voice. "We were having dinner first. And besides... I wanted it to be special. Now, eat before it gets cold."

You grinned when Rusty plopped down on a stool by the island and reluctantly took a bite of the sandwich. You hoped the sweetness of the honey you drizzled on top of the grilled cheese would counteract his bitterness.

Rusty did not have much of an appetite, but he slowly chewed bite after bite. His heart was racing, his thoughts were racing too. How could he have been so oblivious? He was not oblivious, he was suspicious. How could Barbara have kept this for him? She did not, she made it obvious. Especially with the lingerie and nudes. Why this, why that. Why... You? He narrowed his eyes to scrutinize you. You were beautiful. You seemed nice during your first encounter, he could not say the same about tonight. Most importantly... You brought a certain light in Barbara that he had not seen in years. Her light had been dimmed by his own actions and their severe consequences.

When you came back from the sink after you washed your hands, Barbara gave her husband a show. The food was decadent, but so was the sight before his eyes. She slowly untied the apron and pulled it over your head so that you stood half exposed in front of Rusty. Her soft and gentle hands travelled to your belly that she caressed lovingly. Her fingertips traced the cups of your bra and followed the lingerie up to your shoulders. Goosebumps made the hair perk up on your skin. B locked eyes with her husband when her lips met with the skin of your neck. He shifted on the stool. She placed kisses all over it until Rusty finished his plate. She sucked a hickey on your skin until you moaned her name. "That's my good girl."

You moaned louder when Barbara used these words on you, you heard Rusty sighing too. The big bad wolf that yelled at you was practically turning into a soft little lamb. Your hand reached for Barbara's head and you kept her pressed on your skin so she could suck harder to mark it.

Rusty was drowning in his own confusion about whether or not he should enjoy this moment too. Not that he had much control over the way blood was rushing to his cock, leaving him light headed. Barbara acted with you in ways she stopped acting with him well over a decade ago when the kids came around. It ignited a flame of hope in his mind, but it died as fast as it appeared. He was not the receptacle to all of this attention. The same attention he tried to seek in another woman. Barbara was doing the exact same thing, except in completely different ways. What went around came around.

Satisfied with the state she put the two of you in, Barbra brushed her fingers down your arm until she reached your hand. "It's time for dessert." She led you to the staircase with Rusty following you closely. She climbed the stairs slowly, allowing her thoughts to run wild for a moment. This sent her back to a conversation with Lorraine Hogan when she brought up how much she appreciated her neighbour. Lorraine showed no hesitation in her support for her friend, suggesting that Barbara engaged in an adventure of some sort. A little bit of extramarital revenge sex. Barbara realized that revenge was not the main character in this particular story, other feelings came into play as well. Yes, it felt good to get back at Rusty in ways he knew like the back of his hand, but it felt even better to do something that brought her validation. She felt validated in the ways you responded so easily to her words, her touch, her kisses. She felt validated in the ways you treated her as a priority rather than an option.

You held Barbara's hand all the way up the stairs, not without flinching when you felt Rusty touching you. You had waited for this moment since the first day you watched Barbara from your bedroom windows. You had dreamed of taking things further ever since. You did not imagine it exactly this way, Rusty still seemed like an unwanted drop of ink in the great picture you painted of this moment. Still, you were not going to be picky. Much to your surprise, it was quite easy to go from your voyeuristic fantasy all the way to making your dream come true. Barbara wanted you as much as you wanted her and that, on its own, fuelled your desire in ways you had not experienced yet. Barbara was irresistible and you started to understand she thought the same of you.

So did Rusty. Tempted with a good time, he could only surrender to his lust. How could he not? He had two beautiful women before him. If he could manage to tune out the anger and incomprehension for the night, he could enjoy himself as much as Barbara and you. His hands rested on your hips for a moment, where your clothes met your bare skin. You felt him breathe against the back of your neck when he dragged his hands down, following the curve of your ass.

Barbara now stood in the bedroom she had set up for this adventure. In front of the bed, there was one single chair. There were folded towels on the nightstand. She had planned everything through, knowing you would give in. Knowing Rusty would grant her this wish. It was the least he could do. She was not asking for much, she was not asking him to stop cheating. All Barbara wanted, in this moment, was to do the same thing he had done countless times. She held your face in her hands, stopping you from reaching closer and stealing a kiss from her lips. "How do you feel about this, sweetheart? All good?"

You turned your head slightly to the side. Rusty was right behind you, as if he was in on it. It seemed as though he participated on this plan to give you a night you would not forget, but you knew that was not true. When you nodded at Barbara, she rewarded you with the kiss you so desperately wanted. "All good." She smiled against your lips when she kissed you again. The older woman removed the straps of your bra, starting with the one she fixed earlier, and let them fall down your arms.

Rusty unclasped your bra and discarded of it on the floor. He let his wife do the honours of touching your breasts first. He watched, from behind you, the way Barbara so carefully cupped your tits in her hands as if she was scared to hurt you. As if she was scared to get hurt too. Your first moan echoed in their bedroom when Barbara took one of your nipples in her mouth. Rusty's hand moved up your sides tentatively, Barbara did not stop him. He squeezed your other breast in his hand and played with your nipple, getting it stiff and sensitive for his wife to lick and nibble on.

Barbara glanced up at you. Your head was lolling to the back and resting against her husband's chest from having your nipples played with. She looked around the room. Their bedroom. It felt sacred. So much had happened within these four walls, a lot of good but, as of recent, mostly bad things. She hoped Rusty never brought his mistress up here. What they were doing to you right now felt like a violation of this sacred space, a testament to how Rusty violated Barbara's trust and love with the affair. She had to learn to differentiate. There was no we, since the affair. She was not Rusty. She was different because she shared this moment, she let Rusty in this once in a lifetime experience (at least, that was what Barbara tried to believe it would be). She showed she was capable of honesty, she also showed she was able to stretch that same honesty to her own advantages. The spouses were different and similar all at once.

You got accustomed to Rusty's touch, enjoying the way Barbara still remained in charge. She began to remove your pants, Rusty pulled them down until they pooled around your ankles. She peeled her own clothes off too, holding your lustful gaze while she did so. You made her feel so good in this moment, you tried your best to convey all of your desire despite it not being the first time you saw her naked body. "Please?" You reached your hands towards her and she nodded, granting you permission. You pulled her body against yours for a heated kiss.

He gasped while he watched the scene. From behind, all he could admire was the way his wife's face softened when you caressed her cheek. How her brows raised when you deepened the kiss. How her jaw dropped open to allow your tongue to explore her mouth. He stalled for a moment before he picked his glasses up from his shirt, putting them on. Then he, too, stripped naked.

Barbara's arm reached around you to stop Rusty from taking his black briefs off. Her head pointed to the side, to the chair. "We've been way too kind already." You smirked when Rusty reluctantly walked to the chair. It looked like a punishment, Barbara hoped it felt like one. "That's it, sit there and look pretty for us." She kissed the corner of your mouth before she spoke again. "You've been there for me during those tough times, haven't you? Yeah, you've been the best girl for me." Barbara quickly caught on the shadow of doubt in your eyes while you looked at Rusty. "Don't worry about him, darling. He's done far worse things." She glances bitterly at Rusty. "What?" Rusty opened his mouth to talk back defensively, but she was quicker than him. "It's not like I can get her pregnant anyway. What goes around comes back around, doesn't it?"

When B put it like that, it made you feel better. So much better, in fact, that, when invited to kiss Barbara's neck, you did not lose one more second ruminating over Rusty. It did not take long for Barbara to get so worked up she could not contain her whines. You made her feel so good, so happy. Happier than she had been in a long time. She deserved this, she deserved more.

Rusty sat back against the chair with a sigh. He crossed his hands in front of his crotch, miserably failing at hiding the tent in his underwear. His cock throbbed in its confines. Meanwhile, Barbara climbed on their bed and you joined along. His lips parted open when you positioned yourself between his wife's legs.

Finally. It felt like Barbara and you had waited ages for this moment. Your breath tickled her skin, your touch was so gentle too. You stroked your hands up and down her thighs and searched her face for a sign that she wanted to take a step back. You found no such thing. Her eyes sparkled with lust and she was relieved when she noticed you tried to lay down more comfortably. You peppered kisses down her belly button and lower, lower, lower...

The moan that Barbara let out when your mouth finally touched her pussy sounded heavenly. It made Rusty gasp. It made you crave more of those sweet noises. You lapped at her glistening folds, not yet daring to go further yet. You could only assume she had been wet for you all evening long. You were correct, she had been aching for your tongue for what felt like an eternity. You lifted your head, earning a nod as consent.

Rusty slouched on the chair at the sight of your tongue diving between his wife's pussy lips, flicking it over her clit to pull the softest mewls from her. His left hand rubbed his chin while his right one squeezed on his thigh, making the metal of his ring dig into his skin. He bopped his head along to yours while you licked up and down Barbara's pussy. As if he was doing it with you. He forgot when was the last time he did this to his wife.

Barbara tried to lean on her elbows so she could, much like her husband did, admire your work. You made that increasingly more difficult when you started to suck on her clit, making it that much more sensitive. "You feel so good, baby."

You helped to hook her legs on your shoulders, reaching towards her hands to hold them while B began to grind on your face the same way she did earlier on your thigh. You stuck your tongue out, letting Barbara enjoy herself to the fullest. While you took a breather, you did the same, you enjoyed the moment as much as you could. You raised your head up from its position and smiled at her with lips and chin covered in her wetness. Barbara's hand landed on your head and brought you back down again to finish what you started while she guided you through it.

Barbara called you her pretty girl over and over again, praising you for how you took such good care of her. Rusty palmed at his covered cock, desperately searching for relief. His face contorted in a series of expressions he could not even control, though he fought to keep his eyes open and not miss a second of the action. He grunted obscenely loud, taking in all of the signs of Barbara's imminent orgasm.

Her legs started to close around your head, feet hooked together against your spine. It left you no room to pull away. Small breaths escaped her parted lips, they started quiet but quickly turned into resounding moans that were muffled by the pair of thighs around your ears. For a short moment, she looked at her husband through hazy eyes. He seemed as entranced as she was. B needed to learn how to differentiate herself from her man, but, in this very moment, they were both the same. They were both in awe of you, totally entranced.

The attention got you blushing, you felt it despite being too busy to see it. Eyes closed, mouth and tongue hard at work to take Barbara over the edge of her climax. You knew it started when she tried to tug on your hair harder, when she was telling you to 'stay right there, keep going, don't stop!' You let her ride both your face and her orgasm. Her hand fell from your head, more praise fell from her lips. Barbara was ready to move on, but you were not. You swallowed the mess of spit and juices and then you just kept going. You kept going until you made Barbara writhe under all this stimulation.

Until you made Rusty flinch on his chair, ready to pounce. He settled back when you finally gave Barbara the time to relax and to process the pleasure you gave her. This adorable moment of protectiveness went completely over Barbara's hand while she giggled from the high. He wished she had seen it, he wished she had seen he still had it in him to protect her.

Barbara sat up, taking you along with her but she stopped you halfway with a kiss. You were on your hands and knees for her, while she tasted herself on your lips. She pulled away and held your chin firmly enough to turn your heard towards him. "Do you want him to fuck you?" Rusty's face started to glow with excitement. One word and he was ready to go. "If you want to, I'll share you with my husband." Barbara spoke without an ounce of enthusiasm towards her own suggestion. You took a moment to evaluate the offer presented to you with a grin on your glistening lips. Without saying a word, you turned your head back towards Barbara for another passionate kiss. "Good girl." She spoke against your lips. "That's what I thought. We're being so generous to let him watch, but he can't have it all. Maybe we can let him help..."

Maybe that would be nice... You let Barbara decide. With a nod of approval, Rusty sprung on his feet and walked towards the bed. He had a hand on Barbara's back and one on yours, roaming the exposed skin while you kissed his wife. Satisfied, Barbara crawled on all fours to the head of the bed. She rested her back against the upholstered headboard and opened her legs for you. You crawled, too, assuming she wanted you to taste her again, but she had a different plan in mind. She instructed you to sit on the empty space between her legs with your back pressed to her front.

Rusty finally joined the two of you on the bed. He sat back on his knees and tugged on his cock, it throbbed when he pulled his hand away. His thumbs slipped under the waistband of his briefs but he was stopped by his wife again. She knew he was aching for it, for you. She was not ready to share. She did not want to share.

Barbara easily spread your legs apart with her hands, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She leaned her chin against your shoulder and toyed with the stickiness on your inner thighs. "All for me, sweetheart?" You nodded eagerly. She brought her fingers to her mouth, revelling in the taste of you. Her other hand simply brushed over your pussy, making your hips try to hump it desperately.

You truly were desperate for more. Your hips jerked forward one final time and Barbara granted you what you wanted so badly. She pressed her left hand on your wet cunt, her ring finger pushed between the lips. You placed your hand on hers and made Barbara rub circles against your clit.

Rusty pushed back on your legs as they started to close. He wanted to watch. He wanted Barbara to watch the mess she was making between your legs. The more she rubbed, the more you leaked on the bed sheets. And the more he wanted to taste you. He leaned forward, but, this time, you stopped him.

"Good girl." Barbara praised you for not rewarding Rusty with the pleasure, and the privilege, of eating you out. She reminded her husband that his purpose, in this moment, was to help while she did all the work. B picked up the pace. It made your mind all fuzzy. Her expert fingers found a rhythm and angle that made you struggle to keep your eyes open.

And your legs too. Rusty did his job and kept you in place, spread open for both of them. You slouched on the bed, giving in to the sensations of Barbara's fingers rubbing you just right. It was almost like she studied the way you did it, that one time when you could not stop yourself when you watched from the window. The new position allowed Barbara to push one finger inside of you. The moan you let out drove the spouses insane.

Rusty's hips jerked forward, his body barely resisting to your reactions. He watched his wife's finger disappear inside of you knuckle after knuckle. He wished that was his finger. No. He wished that was his cock. Better. He wished you clenched on his cock so hard he would have to fight to pull out in the same way Barbara did with her finger. "Fuck." He grunted as Barbara pumped a finger inside you faster, her palm slapping against your slick folds.

For an instant, B's eyes left your body to stare at Rusty. The vein on his temple pulsated, his chest heaved and increased in redness. He was on the edge of breaking the rule she set just so he could dive inside of you and have you all to himself. She found his struggle amusing, but her heart pinched at his resistance. He tried. For once, he tried to do the right thing.

"Oh my God! Yes!" You moaned out, your body writhed with ecstasy but remained secured in place under Rusty's hands. Barbara took it as a sign to make you feel even better, in the hope that you would enjoy it as much as she enjoyed your mouth on her. A second finger entered your pussy and you shot your eyes closed.

"Open your eyes." Barbara and Rusty ordered you simultaneously. You had no choice but to obey. Rusty gave you just enough wiggle room to fall further on the bed, sprawled open for them. Barbara met you halfway, hovering you so her hands would not leave your heat. His grip on your thighs was bruising. You could not bear to imagine what it would feel to be fucked by Rusty with the same determination he poured into keeping you exposed for his wife.

Barbara chuckled in admiration at just how tightly you clenched around her two fingers. "I can feel it, sweetheart. You're so close." She kept her impressive coordination, between the circles she rubbed and the back and forths of her fingers. "Oh, I know, baby. I know." She cooed at you, buying herself just a few more seconds inside you. "You're making a mess for me. Look at it, look at that pretty pussy." You glanced down for a second, humming in response. She was not ready to stop just yet, but your adorable pleas that begged her to let you cum won her over. "Let go, let go for me. That's it, baby... That's it. Give it to me." The emphasis on Barbara made you see stars that floated around her beautiful face. "Cum for me."

You let go, giving everything you got to Barbara. The sheer force of your climax took your breath away, keeping you stuck in a moment you did not want to get out of. Your eyes fluttered, a myriad of emotions floated in your wide pupils. This was different than what you imagined in your dreams. You were not too mad about the man's presence, he made it easier for Barbara to please you. This was different, but it felt incredible. So incredible that you would be lying if you said you did not want more. Now or later, you did not care, as long as B granted you the privilege of being in her presence. Whether your clothes were on or off did not matter too much either, all you wanted was her. You would take anything she would give you.

Barbara praised you through it until she felt you relax around her fingers. You even heard Rusty insert a few sinful words. "You looked so fucking beautiful cumming for my wife." The Sabiches shared the same smile, one of pure lust. Rusty's grip loosened around your thighs while he caressed your skin, daring to dip his thumbs in the mess that covered the area. Just this small feeling of you made his cock throb painfully, it had been denied for way too long.

When B pulled her fingers out of you, a gush of wetness dripped down on the bed. The three of you whined at the sight of your messy cunt and of your throbbing clit. "You did so good, sweetheart." Barbra, despite the uncomfortable angle, leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You did so good." You thanked her, she thanked you back for this night of bliss. "Do you want to help again?" She asked her husband who nodded frantically, he was ready to accept whatever Barbara would tell him to do. "Clean her up."

Rusty discarded of his glasses, stretching his arm to set them down on his wife's nightstand. He laid down on the bed, much like you did earlier for Barbara. She let him hump the bed, still stuck in his pathetic search for relief. You whimpered when his mouth reached your core. Your back arched, your lips parted open to let out a series of whiny moans. Barbara reminded him to be gentle, that you were precious. She reminded him to take good care of you, or else she would not share with him again. Not a taste of your pussy, not a chaste kiss on your lips, not even a bite of the food you cooked for her. She would indulge in you selfishly... The way Rusty had indulged in his lust all by himself during the affair.

Barbara tested his commitment and, to both her and your surprise, he obliged. Rusty's tongue lapped gently at your puffy folds. Ignoring your pleas about your sensitive skin and skipping the preliminaries to get acquainted with this beautiful part of your body he had been forbidden to touch all night long. He ate you out with restraint, letting out a loud grunt when he swallowed your juices. His purpose was to clean up the mess, the mess he indirectly made through his affair, and he enjoyed the most out of the precious seconds his wife so generously granted him.

Barbara's lips curled into a smirk while leaning forward to tilt Rusty's chin up. He dragged his tongue on his bottom lip, his chin was soaked with your arousal. There was more love in his gaze during this moment than she had seen in a long, long time. It felt as though a dagger stabbed her in the heart. Metaphorically. She pulled it out, and pushed it deep in her husband's chest with her next words. She repeated something he said in therapy recently, a sentence she did not believe until just now. "Now you're helping to salvage this marriage."