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movieexpert1978 · 2 years

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Garden Stroll

Just saw your message about your requests being open. How about a fic with his character from Breakable You? I’d love to read a fic where the OC doesn't leave that wonderful man for his BROTHER (who happened to be an ex). 😅😊

sorry this took me so long to get done anon. I wrote this and then I lost motivation to get this posted. I’ve just been going through a lot right now. I haven’t been motived to write at all either, so sorry about that.

This is NSFW, safe sex, swearing,

She wasn’t surprised to see Paul out front tending to his garden. He must have gotten an early start as he had certainly built up a sweat. She hurried inside with her things and grabbed a cold Gatorade for him.

“Hi Paul,” she smiled coming over to him.

“Oh hey there,” he nodded as he got up.

“I figured you could use a drink,” she said handing him the bottle.

“Oh thank you very much,” he nods and starting drinking. “Ahhhh…that’s good, nice and cold.”

“How’s the garden coming?”

“Oh, it’s coming, been putting in all kinds of flowers.”

“Any veggies?”

“No, even though I probably should. I’m not one for a vegetable garden. I’m a flower guy,” he says holding up a tulip.

“Your garden is always beautiful regardless. I need to do some of my own.”

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“Removing tree stumps,” she groaned.

“Yeah, those are always a pain. If you need a sledgehammer let me know and you can borrow mine.”

“You got a sledgehammer?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiles. They go back to their own houses, and she starts working in her back yard. Paul chuckles to himself as he sometimes hears her moaning and groaning. “Damn tree stumps,” she huffs. “Get out you stupid roots!” She shouts at one point. Paul has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. Once he’s done with his plants he heads back inside. He sneaks a glance in her backyard to see her refilling a hold she dug up, with a small stuff off to the side. Paul puts a water in the freezer and gives it a few minutes before he goes outside to return the favor.

“Here’s some water,” he announces.

“Thank you,” she sighs and eagerly drinks. “I’m sorry…I was probably way too loud,” she blushes.

“No, you were fine. I found your colorful commentary quiet hilarious actually,” he chuckles.

"Yeah...I do that a lot when I work. I didn’t need the sledgehammer this time thankfully, just went around digging them up and cutting up the roots.”

“That’s not a bad method. It saves you a bit of money.”

“For now,” she sighs. “How have you been doing Paul?” She asks kindly as she starts to pick up her things.

“I’m alright, just keeping myself busy,” he nods. He knows what she means as his divorce had just been finalized a few weeks back.

“Not too busy I hope.” He helps her put some of her tools back in the garage.

“No, just the garden and a little house work every now and then. I’m alright,” he nods in appreciation.

“That’s good. Well, thank you for your help. I need to take a shower ASAP,” she groans fanning her face.

“Alright, you have a good night.”

“You too Paul.”

Xxxxxxxx

The shower felt amazing and afterwards she laid down for a nap, not caring if she had a late dinner. She woke up to some kind of noise. It took her a moment from her sleepy haze to realize that someone was knocking at her door.

“Just a minute!” She shouts. She puts on some shorts and does her best to look presentable before she opens the door. She blinks in surprised when she sees Paul, changed and looking refreshed.

“Sorry…I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Oh no, you’re fine. I needed to get up anyway. I haven’t had dinner yet,” she shrugs.

“Well…I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for a drink,” he asks shyly.

“Oh sure! I’d love to!” She answers excitedly. “Wait…should I change?” She asks suddenly nervous.

"No, you're fine,” he shrugs. She gets her sandals on and follows him. He sits her down in the kitchen and heats up a plate of food for her. “Oh Paul, you didn’t have to…”

“No, it’s ok. I cook like my mother and made way too much food for myself,” he smirks as he puts the plate down.

“Well, I can’t say no to a good plate of pasta.” She starts eating and gives him a thumbs up. “Mmmm…perfect comfort food,” she groans in delight.

“I have some sweet wine if you would like some,” he says after a moment.

“I’d love some!” He pours her a glass and gets himself a beer before he sits back down. “Thank you so much Paul. This is lovely.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I guess I have been a bit lonely,” he admits quietly.

“Paul, I’m so sorry. You can talk to me if you want.”

“Sometimes the quiet gets to me. I think I need a dog,” he chuckles.

“I love dogs. I grew up with cats and dogs. The silence drove me crazy when I first moved into the housed…shit…I’m sorry, you were talking,” she sighs in frustration, but Paul only laughs.

“It’s alright, as I’ve said I enjoy your colorful commentary.”

“Well…are you really ok?”

“Just lonely I guess,” he shrugs. “Work can only distract me for so long as well as house stuff. I knew it was coming for a while now, but now that it’s happened it just feel odd, you know?” She nods as she quietly eats. “I just feel odd…out of sorts. Have you ever had that happen to you?”

“Yeah, a lot lately.”

“Still hungry?” He asks pointing to her plate.

“Could I have a little more please?” He gladly gives her another serving along with a refill on her wine.

“So what’s going on with you?”

“Just trying to handle being thirty?”

“What? You’re thirty? No way!” He gasps.

“Yup.”

“I thought you were twenty-two.”

“Thank you but sadly no.”

“Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you Paul,” now they’re both blushing hard.

“Hey have I ever given you a tour of the house?”

“No, I don’t think so, actually I think this is the first time I’ve ever been in your house.”

“What? I though for sure you’ve been here at least once before,” he says confused.

“No, sorry,” she says shaking her head.

“Well let me change that,” he says getting up. “Obviously this is the kitchen,” he laughs.

“I really like it! The wood cabinets look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says surprised.

“My mom always like wood cabinets and all that,” she explains getting up with her glass. She follows him to the living room, which is nice and spacious and has a big TV.

“At least I got to keep the TV right?” He laughs. “I was ready to start looking for apartments, but my ex-wife basically moved right in with the next guy. Just have to pay spousal support,” he sighs bitterly.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It is what it is,” he shrugs. He shows her the half-bathroom downstairs before taking her upstairs. “Master bathroom, guest bedroom, and a little office. I’m lucky enough to work from home most of the time. Here’s my bedroom,” he opens the door and lets her in.

“Very nice,” she compliments. “It’s very cozy. I can’t afford a second floor,” she laughs poking fun at her own house as she sits on the corner of the bed. She finishes her glass and Paul takes if from her as she feels the mattress. “Oh wow, the bed is soft!”

“Memory foam.”

“No way! I love memory foam!” She gasps excitedly. “I got a memory foam pillow and I love it.” He smirks as he leans in closer to her.

“Want to try it out?

“Yes…”

He’s on her, kissing her deeply as they crawl up the bed. She moans into his mouth as he grinds his already hard cock against her shorts. His mouth trails down her neck making her shudder once he finds that sweet spot. He rasps as he uses his tongue on that spot. He moans get louder and she clutches at his shirt. He grabs the back of her head to expose more of her neck as he starts nipping at her skin. He can’t help but growl at the sounds she’s making under him.

“Ouch!” She yelped suddenly. Paul jumps back as if he burned her.

“Shit, sorry, I pulled too hard,” he says embarrassed. “Are you ok? Do you need some ice?”

“No, I’m ok Paul.”

“Did I jump the gun?”

“You’re fine…to be honest I’ve had a crush on you,” she blushes.

“A crush on me?”

“Yeah…” she giggles nervously.

“Well, thank you, I’m flattered. I think I’ve got a crush on you too.” He leans in and kisses her gently this time. “So…do you want to keep going?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she answers against his lips. His hands go under her shirt and she eagerly takes it off for him.

"Oh fuck…” he groans happily as he starts to suck on her breasts. He’s careful not to bite this time as her hands run through his thick hair and down his back. One of his hands goes down to her panties. He swears he feels his cock twitch at how wet she is. “Is that for me?”

“Yes Paul.” He gives her another kiss before he gets his shirt off. She can only briefly admire his physique before he dives in between her legs like a man possessed. He throws her legs over his shoulders as his mouth is on her pussy. “Oh yes,” she gasps as his tongue is all over her.

“Damn, you taste so good,” Paul gasps as he keeps going. His peppered beard added pleasurable friction on her folds. He eats her up all over, savoring every sweet drop. She cries out and her hips buckle when he sucks on her clit. When he pulls away his forehead is sweating and he’s gasping hard, but grinning.

“What?” She giggles.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“You are too,” she pulls away a little to sit up.

“Can you do something for me?”

“What’s that?”

“Ever heard of sixty-nine?” He asks deviously. She gets up and they quickly settle on the bed with her on top of him. She licks her lips at the sight of his leaking cock, before she takes him into her mouth. He moans against her pussy as he’s on her all over again. She carefully moves up and down his length, taking a little bit more of him each time as her tongue swirls around the tip. His grip is getting tighter on her thighs and he smacks her ass. He moves her hips with his large hands so he starts fucking her with his tongue. She does her best to reciprocate and move faster along his length. His legs squirm slightly as he tries to keep still. He “cheats” by rubbing his thumb on her clit. She grunts in surprise around his cock and cums suddenly. Paul eagerly licks her all up before he releases her hips and lets her slide off of him. They look at each other as they’re panting and they burst out laughing.

“You’re amazing,” Paul sighs with a big grin.

“You are too,” she blushes. He gets up and helps her lay down comfortably before he gets a condom off the night stand.

“You ok?”

“Yes,” she nods. He brings her to the edge of the bed and holds her legs as he slowly thrusts his cock inside her. “Ooooh….fuck…” she groans in delight at the stretch. He moves carefully at first, but soon she’s eagerly moving her hips as well. Paul grunts as he looms over her. She pulls him into a kiss, groaning into his mouth as he presses a little deeper. “There…right there…” she gaps.

“There…” he grunts with a hard thrust making her gasp.

“Ahhh…yes…yes,” she whines. Paul keeps moving at that hard tempo making her squeal. She does her best to hold on, but Paul is right on the mark and she bursts. She shouts as she clenches around his cock. He freezes with a groan of his own as he feels her. He stops for only a moment to admire her. Her face is staring up at the ceiling with pure bliss in her eyes. He stands up again and grabs her legs so they’re against his chest. His arms hold them together tightly, which tucks his cock inside her nicely. Their hips slap together as the bed rocks a little.

“Damn, your pussy feels good,” Paul groans. He feels up her firm legs as she watches him, while panting softly.

“Careful with my feet!”

“Why?”

“I’m ticklish. I don’t want to kick you in the face on accident,” she laughs. Paul chuckles too as he keeps going. He soon starts sliding almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

“Mmm…fuck…” he sighs.

“Faster…faster…”

“Faster…greedy little thing aren’t you?” He teases.

“Yeah…I am…I’m greedy for your dick,” she grunts.

“I like that,” he grins as he starts slapping his hips hard against. “You’ve thought about this haven’t you?”

“Yes Paul…a lot…”

“Yeah…you think about me fucking you?”

“Yes…yes!” She nods frantically.

“Me too…been wanting to fuck you for a while now…just go in your house…shove you down and put my dick in you…” He’s moving faster now chasing his own release. She’s groaning deeply under him. He gives her extra attention again by rubbing on her clit. She whines and digs her nails into the bedsheets. “Come on baby…you can do it…one more…I know you got one more…” He can’t hold himself back anymore as he thrusts as deep as he can. He lets out a sputtered groan as he cums, but thanks to his fingers she cums one final time. For a while it’s just them breathing and riding out their pleasurable high. He’s careful when he gets up. “Want a washcloth?”

“Yes please.”

“Hot or cold?”

“Hot please.” He gives her a little kiss on the cheek before he leaves. He comes back, cleaned up a bit, and her washcloth in hand. She takes it and cleans herself up as he puts his shorts back on.

“Need anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“You’re cute when you use your manners,” Paul smirks as they get comfortable in bed. He wraps an arm around her carefully. “So…that wasn’t the wine was it?”

“Nope.”

“Ok…me neither,” he blushes.

“I’ve got no regrets…can we keep doing it?”

“I’d love to,” he grins. She giggles and blushes hard into his chest.

“Can I stay the night?”

“Of course,” his finger tips trace her back gently.

“Want to hear something weird?”

“Sure.”

“For the longest time I always wanted to get with my brother’s wife. That’s very bad on my part isn’t?” He admits.

“No, they got divorced and I could tell she wasn’t over him completely. I understand. I definitely know that I’m over my wife. We weren’t happy for a lot of years,” he sighs.

“Divorces suck.”

“You said it,” he nods in agreement.

“Want to hear something weird?”

“He-he…yes.”

“I’ve always had a crush on older men.”

“Well I guess you’re in luck,” he teases. “You know…I need a quick nap, but think I’m done with you. It’s still early.”

“Oooh…I like that,” she blushes.

“You’re all mine this weekend,” he purrs as his fingers rub her skin.

“Mmmm…best weekend ever.”

#alfred molina #breakable you #paul weller #paul weller x oc #smut #swearing #safe sex #younger older #doc ock #fanfiction

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overlookedfile · 1 year

Note

Once I saw you’d be willing to write for Paul, I couldn’t resist! 😆

So my prompt: Paul meets up with his old crush Naomi Jenkins, a short black woman who owns a catering business, after sometime since his divorce. After some liquid courage, he tells her how he feels. Things get real good and spicy from there!

(Hope this is a okay prompt 🥲😅. But if you don’t want to write it, that’s okay! Love your other fics though!)

So first, a huge apology for the delay on this fic. It kept getting away from me and trying to turn into its own thing. Wrangling it back down to a one-shot was...difficult and exhausting. I hope, however, it at least meets parameters.

Pairing: Paul Weller / Naomi Jenkins (OFC) Rating: Explicit Warnings: mentions of physical violence, alcohol, m/f smut

Approx. Reading Time - 13 minutes (200 words/minute)

Tags: @randomfandomtrash28 @nothingbutyourchains

Paul shifted again in the chair, hunching forward over the documents on the low table. He should've been looking at them from the relative comfort of his hotel room, but his neighbors were inconsiderate. Not that his current lack of a sex life was their problem; he just wished they weren't quite so vocal. It reminded him of too many things, particularly how Eleanor's appreciation of his desire had soured, twisting into loud recriminations against his sincerity. All told, they'd lasted barely two years.

Which was how, for the second time in his life, he found himself leaving behind a home, to a woman he thought had loved him, while he started over. The negotiations now in front of him had come at the perfect time; he could delay finding a new place to live so long as work was paying for his lodging.

"Paul?!"

His head snapped up in surprise. Across the lobby's sitting area, an African American woman was regarding him with wide eyes and a disbelieving grin. Her long hair was pulled back, as dark as ever he remembered, and her figure was still that compact hourglass he'd spent too many sleepless nights imagining between his hands. Lord, it didn't look like she'd aged a day.

"Naomi?!" He echoed her tone of pleasant surprise as he stood. "It's been...how have you been?"

"I've been good." Now assured she hadn't misrecognized the man, she approached. "I thought- well, nevermind. What are you doing here?"

"Work." He shrugged, gesturing as he set the paper in his hands among its brethren. "There's always someone unhappy when it comes to unions."

"I heard you were some big shot negotiator. Weren't you pre-law, though? What happened?"

"I was, but life doesn't always go according to plan. It was a great foundation for this, though. What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Well, not here-here. You know what I mean. I run a catering business these days." Her smile of pride was infectious before it mellowed to wryness. "The hotel's kitchen is under renovation and I was hoping we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, but I don't think the meeting went very well."

His brow furrowed. "Why is that?"

"For one thing, they don't want to pay enough."

Naomi found herself taking the seat opposite Paul as the man lowered himself back to his own. The conversation continued while she took the opportunity to look him over. She almost hadn't recognized him, too enamored by "handsome man with a beard" at first to look much closer, but she'd know those doe eyes anywhere.

He was larger than he'd been in college. The size gave him an air of dependability he'd been lacking back then, a pleasant improvement over the seemingly frantic beanpole of a young man she'd once known. She listened to him lay out a number of conversation points she could take with her into a second meeting, all based on the details she'd shared a few minutes before, and found herself trying to recall why she hadn't given him the time of day all those years ago. Surely there had been clues he would turn into the clever, attractive man she saw now.

The topic found a natural culmination and she graced him with a smile. Not difficult to do, considering. "Have you had lunch, yet?"

"Uh." Paul glanced toward the closed restaurant. "No. As you pointed out, they're closed and this morning's meeting ran long."

"That's okay. I think I know a good place." She stood and so did he. "That is, if you've got time?"

While neither of them had much in the way of free time, it somehow became easier to meet up when they reasoned that they both needed to eat anyway. It was all too easy for her to give him a culinary tour of the city while they reminisced together about life. Over Jamaican Jerk Chicken, they laughed about Adam's attempted tyranny in the college's art department. They tempered the sting of failed relationships with the warmth of the best Salvadoran empanadas. It was alongside the Ethiopian Beef Kitfo, however, where she waxed bitterly poetic about the food critic whose review had gotten her fired from one of the best restaurants in the country and nearly ended her career.

Later, she couldn't be sure if it was the honey wine or his honeyed compliments, praising her resourcefulness and subsequent success, that had led her thoughts to wild places. Places with barely sufficient lighting where warmth could blossom into heat. It was just as likely the culprit was the text messages her friends had started sending after the first meal, taking keen note of her dining companion and the way she apparently "lit up"- her friends' words, not hers- during their conversations.

When did you get you an Old Man?

Girl, if he ain't taken he's about to be. Jump on that before I do.

Wish he'd devour me like that naan. Hot damn.

So she took a leap of faith and made reservations at one of the nicest places in the city, the sort of upscale dining that only the rich ate at regularly and the romantically inclined desperately hoped would impress their dates. She could acknowledge, at least to herself, that she was firmly in the latter category. It was a shame that even she couldn't wrangle a reservation any earlier than his last night in town.

For Paul, it all led to sitting in the hotel bar, the one part of the restaurant not closed for the remodel, cursing himself for being a fool. The temptation to cancel his flight was eating away at him. He already had his phone in hand, the confirmation pulled up and staring accusingly at him. Just a few little clicks was all it would take. But what kind of idiot would move to be near a woman after a mere week? Him, of course. He had almost moved to New York for Eleanor; at least Colorado had prettier views.

He blinked at the amber liquid in his glass, expression clouding with regret and shame. Had he not learned his lesson? How many times was he going to get his heart broken before he figured out that he was the problem? Ex-wife and ex-girlfriend, they'd both thrown the same arguments at him: that he was meek when they needed strength and demanding when they needed compassion. He had tried to change, to navigate their moods as best he could, but it hadn't been enough. The first relationship had lasted over a decade before failing, then limped along for roughly the same. The next: two years, measured generously. If the degradation of tolerance for his flaws was linear, how long would this relationship last? Three months, maybe?

He sighed and lifted his eyes to the entryway. How long he waited, he wasn't sure, mindlessly lifting the glass to his lips and periodically gesturing for a refill. When she finally did appear, it took his breath.

Wrapped around her in folds of golden warmth like the petals of a sunflower, the dress swayed as she walked, dancing about her ankles and parting to reveal glimpses of calf or thigh as she made her way toward him. Her radiant smile inspired his heart to twice, no, ten times its usual effort. Lightheaded, he could only watch her approach with awe.

Old memories encroached, overlaying the moment like a projection image through time. Twice before he had watched a woman walk his way in such a manner and twice before he had made a gesture for which he was physically rebuked. A third time and he would know, wouldn't he? That there was no future for him in Colorado?

He threw back the last of his whiskey- for luck, he told himself, though he really meant courage- and closed the distance between them with long, quick strides. With his hands around her arms, he pulled her close and captured her lips with his own. Every ounce of hope and passion he could muster, he poured into the touch. Even when she kissed back as fervently, her fingers curling into his pants pockets, he kept his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the inevitably violent response.

She pulled away first, faintly laughing as she tried to catch her breath. "Wow. You sure know how to greet a woman." The realization that he still hadn't opened his eyes, his expression pinched and expectant, dampened her amusement. "What's wrong?"

"Just...waiting."

"For what?"

"The slap."

Was he joking with her? He must be, surely. "Open your eyes." She lifted one hand to his face, cradling his cheek with her palm, and he finally did. "Paul, any woman who slaps you after a kiss like that needs her head examined." She playfully chided, "However, I might reconsider if you don't kiss me again."

He complied at once, enfolding her properly in his arms as her fingers interlaced behind his neck. If he'd thought he'd lost track of time before, it utterly abandoned him then. All that mattered was her warmth, her touch. The puffs of air they shared between them in an effort to prolong the kiss were themselves caresses of desire.

"Oh, my sweet, giddy aunt," she panted. Again, Naomi had been the first to pull away. She grinned up at him, a little dazed. "You, sir, are rapidly earning yourself an invitation to my place tonight."

His own smile was more than a little uncertain. "I'm not going too fast, am I?"

She laughed, full-throated now that her lungs were working again. "How old are we? I think we're a little past the stage where we have to follow some teenager's checklist of how relationships are supposed to progress."

At last, elation suffused him, burying the dread of a stinging cheek. He couldn't resist one more kiss. It was gentler than the previous ones, less urgent since it was guided by affection rather than desperation, and he retreated from it first.

"Shall we go on to dinner?" he inquired softly.

"Well, that depends." She ran her hands down the lapels of his jacket, lowering her chin so that she might look up at him through her lashes. "What kind of hunger would you like to sate first?"

The hummingbird-fast beat of his heart must have reflected in his eyes because her gaze darkened with mischief and she caught his hands in both of hers, tugging him toward the front doors. He went willingly. It was a hundred college fantasies all over again as he followed her into a cab. He had matured in the years since then, but still, he dared to slide his fingers along the inside of her teasingly bared knee. Far from upset, she boldly drew his hand higher and covered his touch with a fold of her dress to obscure their indiscretion from the driver.

So when they came to an unexpected halt halfway up her front walk, Paul was confused. He had made her tremble almost violently on the way over, her thighs crushing his hand as she buried her face behind his shoulder to muffle the sounds of her excitement. Now she pulled him back to her, all but climbing into his arms in the fading light of a long summer's day as they kissed.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, bowing under the pressure of her hand to litter a string of kisses across her throat.

"Nothing." She hummed, head tilting back as her eyes closed. "I just wanted to show off for the neighbors. Let them see the handsome, charming man I've brought home."

It was a glorious thing to feel pride and embarrassment swell together in his chest, his smile broadening uncontrollably as he lifted her up. Not missing a beat, she laughed and wrapped her legs around him, running her fingers through his hair as they grinned at each other. She felt light as a feather in his grip.

"To hell with the neighbors," she decided. He agreed.

He had to set her down for a moment in order for them to get through the door, but the moment they crossed the threshold he swept her up again. Stumbling only a little, they made their way through the house and he laid her upon the bed. He thought to hold his weight off of her as he crawled forward, but she had other ideas, drawing him down so that their bodies were as close as clothing allowed. When that was no longer enough, the feel of him grinding against her as tormenting as it was pleasurable, she gave a forceful push against his shoulders, directing him onto his knees.

Their clothes fell to the floor haphazardly, interrupted by the constant exploration of newly revealed skin. His hands and mouth worshipped her curves with the most gentle of attention. She kissed and nibbled and stroked with eagerness. By the time they had become fully bared to each other, they were both breathless and impatient.

"Wait. Wait!" He gave a pained groan, pressing his head back amongst the pillows as he held her off of him. "I don't have a condom."

"Fuck. Just-" She nearly tumbled from the bed, saved at the last minute by his hands at her waist, as she fumbled through the nightstand drawer. Finding what she wanted, she carelessly emptied a box of foil packets across the bed. "There. Take your pick."

Laughter rumbled through him. "I think maybe you're overestimating me if you're expecting to need that many."

"Let's start with one and see where we end up." She grabbed a packet at random and tore it open with her teeth, grinning in response to the helpless moan her action conjured from him.

She was still soaked from his efforts in the taxi and the stretch as she sank down onto him was perhaps the most sinful thing she'd ever imagined. His length filled her deliciously, just shy of painful and faintly grazing her cervix as her hips came to rest against his. For a moment, it was almost too much, almost enough to send her over the edge, but Paul didn't dare move, fighting to hold back his own reaction to her engulfing heat. He shivered beneath her hands, braced against him as they were since her knees barely reached the mattress to either side of his hips, and he focused on her face. The way her eyes were half-lidded, her lips silently parted, her breasts heaving as she strove for deep, calming breaths: he was enraptured by the signs of her pleasure.

Moving together, his hips rolling up to meet her, her thighs quivering as she rhythmically flexed around him, they let the pleasure build with a certain languor. He caressed the side of her face, the elegant lines of her body, seeking to commit the moment to memory. She smiled down at him, relishing the way his chest dented beneath her fingers, his fingers sending a thousand jolts of pleasure through her clit as she rubbed against him, clenched around him.

Floating in the afterglow, she drifted to sleep curled up at his side. The morning sun sneaking in through the curtains, warm and gentle, woke her the same way. She stretched, feeling indulgent beneath the soft linens, and pressed a kiss against her lover's shoulder. He stirred and blinked awake, a smile curving his lips.

"Morning," he rumbled quietly.

"Good morning." She curled her fingers through his chest hair. "When's your flight?"

That brought a sigh from him. "It takes off at three."

She picked up one of the unopened condoms that still littered the bed and dangled it in front of him. "Do you have to be on it?"

#alfred molina #paul weller #breakable you #m/f fiction #fanfic #muse kicks #prompt: liquid courage

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