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visionsofmagic · 10 months

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⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆

DAY THREE: robert pattinson x f!reader

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• summary: robert and you go for the met gala and when he sees you, he just realizes you are the prettiest girl once again. | wc: 1.3k | tags&warnings: fluff (believe me when I say it), a slight nsfw content too, before!met gala event, kissing, girlfriend!reader, robert is such a good boyfriend, gentle!rob, touching, dirty talk, playful!rob and reader, teasing, enjoy! [also, so sorry for the wait because I had to change my phone, going to practicum process and doing my finals, so, hope this chap will be good! thank u!

Robert knows you are so pretty – the prettiest girl alive he can see and feel. He is sure he is lucky to have you, as he always tells, believing you are his miracle, giving him happiness and affection his soul seeks for. However, he realizes these facts once again when he sees you in a dress that covers your body so beautifully that he fears that his vision go blind because of the light you are spreading with the dress he never seen before on you and your smile – oh, that gorgeous smile, he thinks, the one he can give his life for to see.

“Oh, love,” He tries to say as he makes his way to you, arms half open to hug you when he reaches his destination, “My love, you look –“ He can’t find any word enough to say how beautiful you look – even more than just a beauty. He can swear if you say you are an angel, he will believe right away because you look so much like an angel – with pureness and light only he sees thanks to being your boyfriend, the one you give your heart and soul to with body as well.

“You look so good that even if I use hundreds of words to describe it, it will not be enough.” He says in a genuine tone. He always tells truth to you – you don’t deserve lie, no one does, and he likes to be sure that he doesn’t say even white lies because lie is a lie, without matter of the color of it.

Smiling to him, you feel wonderful because you know how he means it when he says it. He is gentle with you – a perfect boyfriend you have, making every day of your life bearable, worth to live and happy.

“You are making me blush, honey.” You say as he stays in front of you, opening his arms wider enough for you to get his gesture and hug his neck tightly, feeling softness of the fabric of his suit. His hands find their places on your waist, pulling you closer, putting a few kisses on your hair and spends a moment to smell your hair, saying ‘hmm’ in a low voice – he is happy, so happy, to have you like this, in his arms, kissing freely and seeing your smile, hearing your little chuckles when he says, “You look like the sun on earth, you know that right?”

Breaking the hug a little, you look at his eyes, smirking playfully, “When you become the moon, I decided that I should be your sun.” I say, referring to his role as The Batman and how the character is belong to nights – to the moon of the nights. Robert is opposite to the Batman with all his gentleness, smiles – oh, those cute little smiles, light golden brown hair and blue eyes with full of sparkles, but, when you have a chance to tease him, you take it.

Chuckling, he puts a kiss on your nose, “You are always my sun, darling, even before I play that role,” He kisses your forehead, “My sun – the light of my life,” He kisses your cheeks one by one, “My love – the one I love from the deepest part of my heart and soul.” Lastly, he puts a kiss on your lips, warmness flowing from his to yours for a moment before he gets back and wait for your action. Oh, such a tease, you think but you play with his little game still.

Firstly, you kiss his nose like he did, “And you are my moon – making my night lighten up with your own gleam.” Then, I kiss his forehead, raising on my tiptoes as he lowers his head down a little with a chuckle, and I hit his shoulder gently with a smile, “My beloved who I want see as the first thing in the morning and the last thing in the night.” I kiss both of his cheeks that have light blushes on, “The one who has my heart and soul within my body,” Lastly, I kiss his lips, longer than his, wanting to feel him closer. Getting my gist, he hugs me tightly, closing the gap between our bodies, making them crash into each other as my hands on his neck travel into his hair, then to his shoulder, ending on his chest. The kiss take longer than I expect but I feel like he needs it – he needs to feel me long enough to let me go, and I agree to his idea because I want to have him too.

Between the kisses we share, I feel one of his hand goes up to my neck as the other one lowers down to my ass and I chuckle, saying, “Robert, I th –” I moan when he bites my lower lip, closing my eyes because of the feeling, unable to speak more and this makes him laugh playfully, knowing his own effect on me.

“You were saying something, sweetheart?” He asks but he doesn’t wait for my answer when he walks towards me, making me taking steps backwards and when my back find the surface of the nearest wall, I say, “We should go before it is too late.”

I want to stay though, letting him have his way with me and taking all the pleasure he can give but we can’t stay any longer before it is too late to go for the gala which he needs to go as his manager says.

“Just a few minutes, believe me,” He says, hands go under your long skirt as he pulls it up, making your thighs and legs be exposed to his eyes and when his hands touch your ass, he stops for a moment, eyes wide open as he asks in disbelief, “No underwear?” He almost sounds like he enjoys this too much.

With a sudden shy that hit me, I lower my head down, shrugging, I smile, “I – I wanted to tease you with it when we arrive the gala.”

He smirks, feeling shy like you do too but he is better for hiding it than you – always. “You are such a tease! I love it,” He kisses your neck; “You have no idea how much I want to tear this dress up and have you right here.” He speaks with no hesitation – only truth and lust can be heard in his attractive voice. You know how he can be a playboy so easily when it comes to you – only you.

“But we should go,” you say, taking his hands back from your ass even if you want him so much right now. “However, I can give you a promise though,” You say, smirking, making him furrow with curiosity on his face expression.

“And what is that?” He asks; hands stop on the wall, right beside your waist, caging you inside his body.

You put your hands on his neck, still having a smirk, “When we come back to the house, I will let you having your way with me – without no disapproval.”

He only laughs at your deal. Holding your chin with his fingers, he says, “My pretty girl – oh, I will take you with my way, you can be sure about that,” He lowers his head down, whispering into your ear intensely, “But who said I would not have you in the gala?”

It makes your legs shake in excitement because deep down, you know Robert will hold his promise, finding a way to give pleasure both to you and to him and only the idea enough to make you give him all.

Smiling, he puts a kiss on your cheek as he holds you from the waist. Then, he fixes your dress like a gentleman, asking you whether you are ready or not. When you nod, he takes you by the hand and smile widely, “Let’s go and make the whole world see how beautiful you are and that you are my beloved.”

The end. 💕

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kahlanmars · 8 months

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𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐞★

Female characters and songs I looked up to create my OC:

Buffy Summers

Blair Waldorf

Regina George

Rose Hathaway

Taylor's lyrics

Marina's lyrics

Phoebe Halliwell

Summer Roberts

Cher Horowitz

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captainsophiestark · 6 months

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The Ugliest Tie I've Ever Seen

Daniel Sousa x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Marvel

Day 27 Prompt: "I don't know if they will accept this."

Summary: Y/N has finally been transferred to LA, joining their boyfriend Daniel Sousa to help with a case. Unfortunately, he's picked up some new fashion in LA.

Word Count: 1,311

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This is basically a request @everyhazyday sent me for Daniel Sousa Appreciation Week before I dropped out of the event and disappeared for a couple months lol. Hope you enjoy!!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I stepped out of the car to be greeted by the warm, sunny weather of Southern California, a smile on my face. This beat the New York winter any day of the week.

After months of waiting to move out to LA, the SSR here had finally caught a case big enough to warrant it. I'd left New York behind with hugs for Jack and Peggy to join my boyfriend, Daniel Sousa, on the other side of the country. We'd been making long distance work since he'd been appointed the new Chief, but I couldn't wait to see him again in person.

I walked through the doors of the Auerbach Theatrical Agency to find Rose at a large desk, fake smiling as two identical-looking girls tap danced in the middle of the room. As soon as she saw me, Rose stood and walked around the desk, hands clasped and a borderline grimace replacing her smile.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think your act is quite what we're looking for. Thank you, have a nice day."

The girls both scowled and huffed, but Rose was immovable. The minute they were both out the front door she sighed, shoulders relaxing, and came over to give me a hug.

"Hey, Rose. That looked more fun than the telephone company bit," I teased. She huffed, but when she pulled back from the hug, she had a smile on her face.

"I have actually gotten to see some good acts, once in a while," she said. "And the weather here is certainly nicer than anything in New York."

"No kidding."

"Come on, I'll show you the way up. I'm sure you're dying to see the Chief."

She shot me a look over her shoulder, and I just smiled. She was right, I was dying to see Daniel. It would take just about everything in me not to tackle him in a hug and kiss him on sight, but I'd have to find a way to manage it since we were in the middle of the office.

Rose took me down a back hallway filled with filing cabinets, pushing one back to reveal a secret entrance. I gave her a wave and promised to check in later, then headed upstairs.

The bullpen was surprisingly empty, with just a few agents working at their desks. Directly across from the stairs, I could see Daniel's office with the door open, a crowd of people inside. Even from here, with his back to me, I caught sight of Daniel in the middle of the huddle by his desk.

I walked over, a smile on my face. I couldn't wait to see the look on Daniel's face when he realized I was finally here.

As I got closer, I got within hearing range of the conversation. I could see Daniel's shoulders tensed underneath his gray suit jacket, and it became a little harder to forget that I was here mostly because he'd caught a massive case.

One of the agents standing directly in front of Daniel was speaking when I walked through the door of the office, coming to a stop just behind my boyfriend.

"...been a pain in our side every step of the way. I don't know if they will accept this."

"They're gonna have to," said Daniel. "They have no argument for keeping us out of this case, not since their evidence started literally hovering around the office. It's our jurisdiction."

"Don't you worry, we'll get 'em in line," I said, hands on my hips. "The cavalry's officially here."

Daniel whipped around, eyes wide at the sound of my voice. A smile broke out on his face as soon as he saw me, but my attention snapped to his outfit instead.

I loved Daniel, more than anything or anyone in the world. That would never change, even if he walked around wearing a literal burlap sack. But this was going to take some getting used to.

The gray suit jacket had fooled me into thinking he'd levelled up his wardrobe since leaving New York and the sweater vests behind. But underneath that suit jacket was a dayglow flamingo button up shirt, and the ugliest tie I'd ever seen in my life.

I froze like a deer in headlights, unable to do anything other than stare at that outfit. Daniel looked at me curiously, then turned to the other agents in the room.

"Can we get a minute?" he asked, addressing the other agents. "Everybody take five, we'll get back together in a few minutes."

The agents nodded, mumbling amongst each other as they headed out of the office. I heard one of them shut the door behind us, and then Daniel shuffled a little closer to me, looking concerned.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I just need a second. My eyes are burning."

He furrowed his brow, glanced down to follow my gaze to his outfit. He looked back at me with outrage.

"What? Come on! It's not that bad, is it?"

"Together, as one outfit? YES."

Daniel scoffed, throwing his head back and looping an arm around my waist. He pulled me in, leaning in so we were basically nose to nose, a smile spread across his face.

"I missed you," he said. I smiled.

"I missed you too. No way in hell Thompson's ever getting me back to New York."

Daniel laughed, then leaned in and kissed me. We lingered for a few long moments, but since we were still in the office, we didn't let ourselves get too carried away.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you here," Daniel muttered, leaning his forehead to rest against mine. "Seriously, I think I just lost a few deeply entrenched stress lines."

"Even with the fashion critiquing?"

"Yeah, even with that."

He gave me one last peck, then pulled all the way away. He picked up a massive case file and moved to hand it to me, but he hesitated at the last second.

"You really don't think this look is working for me?"

"Oh, babe. You could wear a clown costume and still be handsome to me. But that shirt and especially that tie, together? It's a serious downgrade from the sweater vests."

"From the sweater vests?"

"Yeah. You looked like a cute nerd in the sweater vests. You look like you got dressed in the dark with this."

Daniel snorted. "Okay, great. Thanks for the honesty at least."

"Always. But hey, don't get so down on yourself. The shirt's kind of fun, once you get past the... color of it."

"Really. Great."

"The tie has to go though."

I reached out to take the tie, and Daniel moved back out of my reach. I grinned, moving towards him again, and he managed to move behind his desk, a laugh bubbling out as he went.

"Gimme the tie, Daniel."

"You stay away, this tie's going on the wall. Hall of fame for making the love of my life look at me like I'd grown a second head after not seeing me in person for months."

"That's fine, the wall works. As long as it's not on you."

Daniel laughed, and it was infectious as I finally managed to catch him behind his desk. He gave in, and I wasted no time loosening the tie and pulling it over his head. He raised his eyebrows and fixed me with a look once I had it in my hands, and he smiled at me.

"You satisfied now."

"Yeah, actually, thanks."

I beamed at him and he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. I could see the other agents hovering outside the door, so I knew we had to get back to actual work, but I didn't really mind too much. Now that I was with Daniel again, working side by side, we could take on any case together. Ugly ties and all.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

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Over The Moon (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day in the West Coast SSR and love is in the air for Daniel and Peggy, who spend the day watching their friends’ fledgling romance flourish and looking back on the beginnings of their own relationship.

Pairing: Peggy Carter X Daniel Sousa, Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this little one-shot to come out (I had a different one planned but after rewriting it twice, I scrapped it and decided to work on this one) but today, we’re gonna revisit Daniel and Peggy’s relationship from our favorite chief’s POV! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Over The Moon February 1948 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“Aw, Peg, you shouldn’t have…”

Peggy simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled as Daniel reverently admired the signed baseball he’d just unwrapped. “It was no trouble at all, Daniel! Mr. Jarvis and I were at one of Howard’s silly parties and we just so happened to run into Mr. Robinson there, along with six of his fellow teammates from the Brooklyn Dodgers. I knew how much you liked the team, so I took advantage of the golden opportunity before me in the name of romance and voilà.”

Daniel grinned and shook his head in loving exasperation, knowing perfectly well that his amazing girlfriend had conned Howard Stark into pulling some strings and getting half the Brooklyn Dodgers to sign a baseball just for him. But there’s not a chance in hell that she’d ever admit to asking Stark for help, he thought with an inward chuckle as he crumpled the heart-patterned wrapping paper into a ball and tossed it into the waste basket across the office, and there’s not a chance in hell that I’ll ever question a ball signed by one of the best players in Major League Baseball. “It’s a very thoughtful gift, honey, definitely the best Valentine’s Day gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.” Daniel leaned in and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, lightly chuckling in embarrassment once they finally separated. “Now I sorta feel like a chump for just getting you that perfume…”

“You shouldn’t, darling; just because I enjoy cleaning and assembling weapons in my spare time doesn’t mean I don’t like smelling good while doing so.” Peggy smiled triumphantly as he laughed. “You took the time to browse my vanity, locate my perfume bottles and use them to determine which of the new perfumes at Bullock’s that I’d be the fondest of. I promise, it was just as thoughtful of a gift as a baseball signed by some of your all-time favorite players.”

A triumphant shout interrupted their next near-kiss, and they both looked out the office windows into the bullpen to see an elated Jack punch the air and scribble something down on a notepad. Sitting at the desk across from him, (Y/N) smiled to herself as she adjusted the vase full of baby-pink roses placed beside her morning cup of tea and continued typing out a case report on her typewriter. Daniel, sensing that there was something unusual going on between his top two agents, furrowed his brow in confusion and turned back to face his girlfriend. “What’s all that about?”

“Oh, (Y/N) thought it would be sweet to write a Valentine’s Day card entirely in code and give it to Jack along with his gift.” The office door was closed but Peggy lowered her voice all the same. “Don’t tell either of them that I said anything, but apparently our dear Jack mentioned to (Y/N) that he really wanted a photograph of her so that he could have something beautiful to brighten up his desk. So, she went down to the portrait studio last week and had one taken to give to him today.”

Sure enough, when Daniel looked back out at the bullpen, he spotted the framed black-and-white photograph of the agency’s top codebreaker and smiled at how carefully the ex-chief propped it against his desk lamp so that he could glance up at it while he decoded. “You don’t say? Are we one-hundred-percent certain she’s dating our Jack Thompson and not some sort of sappy doppelgänger who’s seen one too many Cary Grant flicks?”

Peggy chuckled as she leaned back against his desk. “It is a little hard to believe that the Jack Thompson currently hard at work decoding a declaration of love is the same one I once threatened to shoot. What’s even harder to believe, though, is that we never realized how obviously over the moon they were for one another; Thompson was forced to spell it out for us over the phone when he decided to step down as Chief and relocate to Los Angeles, remember?”

“When you think about it, it’s not really that surprising.” Daniel smirked a little at his girlfriend’s incredulous frown. “C’mon, Peg, how long did it take for us to get our heads out of our asses and finally admit that we were over the moon for each other?”

A light pink blush appeared in Peggy’s cheeks and he could practically see her recalling all those months of quiet pining and longing stares as she fought the smile that was threatening to form on her cherry-red lips. “Perhaps you have a point there, Daniel. Out of curiosity, when was it that you started to have feelings for me?”

“The exact moment? I’m not really sure, but I do know when I realized that I saw you as more than my coworker.” Daniel hung his crutch on its hook and sat down in his desk’s chair. “It wasn’t very long after I joined the SSR and I was having a real bad day that day; I slipped on the steps outside and that caused me to be late, Dooley handed one of my cases over to Thompson, and Krzeminski wouldn’t stop cracking jokes about my leg. But then you came around with the lunch orders and there was a chocolate-chip cookie I definitely didn’t order hidden inside my take-out box; that cookie turned a bad day into an okay one…well, that and when Krzeminski’s desk drawers mysteriously jammed and he fell on his ass trying to pry them open.” They laughed and Daniel smiled up at Peggy as he continued. “That’s when I knew that there was someone in my corner at the SSR, someone who didn’t pity me but who understood better than most anyone what it felt like to be up against the entire world.”

With a gentle smile on her face, Peggy slid down from the desk and took a seat on his lap, one of her arms resting across his shoulders while the other fiddled with the collar of his aloha shirt. “I’d say that I was only doing what anyone else would, but we both know what manner of agents we were working alongside back in New York.”

“You’ve got that right. So, when did you know that you had a thing for me?”

His girlfriend’s smile morphed into something coyer. “All right, I’ll tell you…over dinner tonight.” Daniel groaned in disappointment while she merely chuckled at his dramatics. “Seriously, we really should try and get some sort of work done today, darling; we have half a dozen cases to sign off on, three witnesses to interview for the Olsen case and-oh, for heaven’s sake!”

Daniel followed Peggy’s incredulous eye-line to see Jack and (Y/N) standing by the former’s tidy desk; the codebreaker was whispering something into the agent’s ear and judging by the lopsided grin beginning to form on his lips, it had absolutely nothing to do with work. While a pink-faced Daniel and a smirking Peggy watched, (Y/N) took Jack’s hand in hers and cast a furtive glance around the bullpen before pulling him out into the hall. “…What’re the odds that they’re headed into the supply closet for more typewriter ribbon?”

“About as good as Rose finally joining Samberly for a night on the town,” Peggy quipped, her brown eyes alight with playfulness as she expectantly looked down at him. “So, shall we set a good example for the others and get back to work?”

After pretending to ponder his girlfriend’s question, Daniel suddenly used his good leg to push his rolling desk chair across the office, grinning as Peggy giggled at the unexpected movement and tightened her arm around his shoulders; he grabbed the cord of his window’s Venetian blinds and tugged them closed before moving his hand to cradle the back of Peggy’s neck. “Maybe later. We can’t let Jack and (Y/N) have all the fun, can we, Agent Carter?”

Peggy chuckled and shook her head as her fingers carded through his hair. “We certainly can’t, Chief Sousa.”

Their lips met in a slow and passionate kiss and Daniel sighed at the pleasant sensation of his girlfriend’s crimson nails gently scraping against his scalp, tightening his hold on her and smiling against her red-hued lips as he thanked his lucky stars that he’d finally achieved the honor of being Peggy Carter’s Valentine.

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A/N: Daniel’s so cute lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady @xxruinaxxmcu

#tales from the ssr #specs and the flyboy #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson #peggy carter x daniel sousa #peggy carter #agent carter #daniel sousa #chief sousa #rose roberts #aloysius samberly #howard stark #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #edwin jarvis x ana jarvis #strategic scientific reserve #marvel cinematic universe

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ezrasrambles · 2 years

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Glee but it’s the riddler has Kurt and Batman has Finn and cat women is Rachel Berry

#he’s kurt cause he’s gay and finn ( Batman ) rejects him #and she’s cat women because she is in love with Finn #IMAGINE THE RIDDLER SINGING ROSES TURN BUT ITS THE GLEE VERSION #I have a lot of feelings about this #paul dano #paul dano riddler #paul dano x reader #edward nashton #the batman 2022 #robert pattinson #glee x reader #glee #finn hudson #Rachel berry #kurt hummel #Lea Michele is illiterate

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bellarkeselection · 1 year

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roosterforme · 1 month

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Some Things Take Time | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is a man well known for his patience. He never rushes things in the air, and he tries to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. You and he are both on the same page about welcoming a child into your home through foster care, but it's hard for him to watch you try to bond with her unsuccessfully. He soon realizes that Avery is a lot like him, and that some things are worth the extra time.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of infertility, mentions of foster care and adoption, Bob making all other men look like trash

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader

Happy birthday @wkndwlff! Check my masterlist for more!

You were laying on the couch with your head resting on your husband's lap, spinning his wedding band around on his finger while you tried to put your thoughts into words. You could tell he knew you were on the verge of speaking, sending you several expectant glances as you and he both pretended to watch the movie he started an hour ago. But Bob would never rush you, and you were thankful for that, because you wanted to make sure you got this right.

"We've been trying for a long time," you whispered, and Bob's blue eyes met yours as you looked up at him. "Almost two years."

He nodded once and smiled softly. "We have," he murmured, squeezing your hand in his larger one. You pressed your lips together as tears stung your eyes. Bob never seemed upset that he was pushing forty years old and in spite of trying and trying, you'd never gotten pregnant. He never put pressure on you to keep trying or to stop. You were convinced he never would, but you wanted to know what he was really thinking.

"What if we... stopped. Stopped trying. And just went with an alternative?"

"Honey, I already told you I'm happy with things how they are. We can stop trying if you want to, or we can talk about alternatives if you want to do that. But there's nothing wrong with just you and me. In fact, I'm really quite enjoying myself."

You closed your eyes as his fingers drifted along the curves of your side. It would be delicious to get back into the habit of having sex when you wanted to instead of when your cycle demanded it. You and Bob sharing your undivided attention with each other was something you were craving, but you still wanted something else, too.

"What if I said I wanted to look into fostering and adoption again?" you asked softly as you started to sit up.

He pulled you closer so you were straddling his thigh. "Then I would say we can call our lawyer on Monday and get some answers."

You smiled as you nudged his glasses with your nose and kissed his cheek. "And what if I said I'm not fertile today, but I want you anyway?"

Bob reached for the remote and turned the movie off as a soft blush rose in his cheeks. "Then I would say it's time we got in bed, Honey."

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

Bob was a man who was well known for his patience. He never rushed things in the air, and he tried to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. He knew he wanted to marry you about halfway through the first date. He also knew you would have looked at him like he was insane if he admitted that to you halfway through the first date. So instead of rushing things, he took the time to make sure you were on the same page he was and that you were comfortable. He always tried to do that.

When a baby just didn't seem to be happening, he was more than willing to keep trying, but he was also completely content with the idea of no kids at all. It wasn't worth rushing anything as long as he had you in his life. But you had recently convinced him of a third option, and his lawyer helped the two of you smooth out the details.

And this is how Avery ended up at Bob's house on a random Monday evening. She was eight years old and in need of a foster family, and you were adamant when you answered the phone call that you and Bob were more than ready for her to be dropped off even on such short notice.

"I'm so nervous," you whispered as you held Bob's hand and watched through the front window as a van pulled up.

"I'm excited," he told you with a soft laugh. When he thought about having kids, he always pictured a little girl. For some reason, the idea of reading princess stories and painting a bedroom a putrid shade of purple really appealed to him. As he watched Avery being led up the walkway, he realized she didn't look one bit like you or him. He also realized that having a child who resembled him was actually never part of his dreams.

As the doorbell rang, you bounced in place and whispered, "She's here. She's really here."

Bob pulled you in for a kiss as his heart thudded. He realized he needed to tamp down his excitement a little bit. The two of you were merely fostering Avery. Nothing was set in stone even though you told the lawyer you wanted to eventually adopt a child. But right now your eyes were glittering with hope and anticipation, and Bob couldn't take that away from you.

"Let's make her feel welcome," he said as you both headed for the door.

Avery stood there with an unreadable expression on her adorable face, and Bob noticed right away how the case worker seemed to rush through everything. There were papers to sign and a schedule to keep, and even though all of it pertained to Avery, she ended up sitting quietly at the kitchen table while everyone else talked about her.

It was late by the time you and Bob were alone with her, and now her unreadable expression looked something like sadness. "Avery," Bob said softly. "Do you want to see your bedroom?"

She looked up at him and nodded without saying a word, and then you helped her down from the chair. You had taken the time to freshen up the extra bedroom and buy a pink glitter toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in her size. But Avery just sat down on the edge of the bed with her bag and asked, "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"

"Yes," Bob replied with a smile. "I'll drop you off on my way to work, and then I'll pick you up in the afternoon."

When she didn't respond, you asked, "Is there anything you want? A bedtime snack or something to drink? I could make you some hot chocolate or get you a cookie. Bob makes the best oatmeal cookies, and there are a few left from the weekend. Maybe you can help Bob make the next batch." You were rambling now, and Bob reached out to squeeze your hand as you said, "We're just excited that you're here."

But Avery shook her head and told you, "I'll just read my book. Thanks." Then she untied her shoes and took a well worn copy of The Secret Garden from her bag, but she sat on the bed with rigid posture, not looking at either of you.

Bob wasn't quite sure what to do. You'd already shown the child where the bathroom was, and she seemed to have all of her essentials. He swallowed hard, deciding not to rush Avery even though he could feel your disappointment radiating off of you. He cleared his throat and said, "We'll leave our bedroom door open in case you need anything. And we'll get you up around seven for school. Good night, Avery."

She just nodded and squinted down at the tattered book cover like she was going to cry. Bob led you down the hallway, through your room and into the en suite bathroom where he gathered you in his arms as tears filled your eyes. "I don't think she likes us," you gasped before you buried your face against his neck.

Bob kissed the top of your head and whispered, "I just think she needs some time. Let's not rush anything."

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

You cried yourself to sleep the first night. You knew that your response wasn't fair to Bob or Avery or even to yourself, but you'd imagined meeting a little girl who was at least a little bit more talkative if not upbeat. You had your hopes set on fostering a child who at least gave the impression that your home was better than another alternative. You'd been given a vague picture of where Avery had come from, and you wanted her to be comfortable here, but now you felt stupid for buying the glitter toothbrush and the Minnie Mouse pajamas.

Bob's hand drew lazy circles on your back as you turned away from him and cried softly. "It's just the first night," he reminded you in that sweet, even tone that you loved so much.

"I know. I just wanted this so desperately," you admitted between shaky breaths. His hand on your body helped you eventually fall asleep, and the next morning, Bob was up before you, making breakfast. When you tapped on Avery's door which was ajar, you poked your head in to find her once again sitting on the bed reading.

"Did you sleep okay?" you asked, and she nodded in response. "That's great!" you said in a tone of forced excitement. "Do you need help getting ready for school?"

"No," she said softly, setting the book aside.

You took a deep breath and said, "Bob's making breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs and eat?"

"Yes."

That was the last word you heard her speak before Bob led her out to his car in his uniform. He smiled at you over his shoulder as he told you to have a good day working on your true crime novel, but you knew you weren't going to. You spend two hours trying to write, but you ended up with three and a half new sentences. Instead, you spent most of the day thinking you'd made a huge mistake and hating your own body. Avery would probably last two weeks tops with you and Bob before she was begging to go somewhere else. You didn't even know if you could stand to see her melancholy little expression when your husband brought her home from school today, but you didn't want to call her case worker for help yet.

In the afternoon, you bought everything you needed to make oatmeal cookies along with the rest of your usual groceries. You paused next to the checkout line where there was a display of children's books and grabbed a few of them. Avery appeared to like her book more than anything else, so maybe she would appreciate these ones, too.

But when Bob brought Avery home with him after school, she barely spoke. She didn't want to help make any cookies, and after dinner, she went back to her bedroom. Bob tried to help her with her homework, but she told him it was easy and she already finished it. When you dropped off the new books, she told you she already had a favorite.

"Oh," you said, standing in the doorway with your hands full of the unwanted books. "That's good... that you have a favorite. I have a favorite book, too."

She looked up at you and nodded, but soon you were backing out of the room and trying to hide your tears from Bob. "It takes time," he reassured you as you balled your hands into fists and cried on him again.

You knew you needed to be as patient as he always was, but you just weren't like him. And you started talking before you could stop yourself. "If we could have gotten pregnant, we'd have our own child," you sobbed. "One that we raised from day one who would love us and bake cookies and read new books."

Bob kissed your ear and whispered, "Nothing is easy, Honey. But sometimes the harder something is at first, the more rewarding it is later on."

You cried yourself to sleep again.

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

Bob tried his best for that first week. He watched you start to pull away and retreat into yourself the more Avery kept to her bedroom. Every day when he dropped her off and picked her up, she thanked him for the ride. When he asked if she would rather start taking the bus, she told him it didn't matter. When he asked if there was something special she wanted to eat for dinner, she said she wasn't picky.

And all the while she just squinted down at her book. Just The Secret Garden even though you brought home some others. When he pulled up to the curb in front of her school one morning, he said, "Avery, would you like me to take you to the library one day? Or maybe a bookstore where you can pick out what you want?"

She looked at him as she grabbed her backpack in one hand and her book in the other. "Maybe." Then she climbed out of the car, and he waited to pull away until she was inside the school building. That was the most promising answer he'd received yet. He drove to work thinking about signing her up for a library card, and when he got there, he was in a much better mood.

Natasha was the only one who knew that Avery was under his care. He didn't want to give anyone too many details, but she sweetly asked him the same question every morning after they got to work. "How are you and the Mrs. making out with your houseguest?"

And this morning, he said, "Maybe a little better today, Nat. I'm just trying not to rush it."

She patted him on the chest and smiled. "You never do, Bob. You're a man of details."

She was right. He spent the day thinking about all of the details that he knew about Avery. She was eight years old and very quiet. She only wanted to read one book even though you offered her more. She seemed to find the most comfort when she was alone. She was honestly a lot like Bob.

When he picked Avery up from school, he watched as one of the teachers patted the top of her backpack and sent her on her way. She squinted toward his car before trudging over in his direction with a frown on her face. Bob sighed as she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. "How was your day, Avery?" he asked as he shifted into drive. But today he got no verbal response at all. Instead he heard her crying.

Without another word, Bob pulled his car around and into an empty parking spot before killing the engine. He opened his door and closed it before taking a few deep breaths, and then he climbed in the back door and settled in next to the crying child. He let one hand gently rest on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze before asking, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

She just shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. "It's stupid."

Bob smiled slightly. "You might think so, but I'd probably find what you have to say fascinating."

She turned her head to look at him, examining his face to see if he was being honest. But of course he was. He just wanted her to tell him what was on her mind. It took a few minutes before she started to settle down, but eventually she said, "I failed my eye exam with the nurse today." She unzipped her bag and pulled out a yellow sheet of paper and handed it to him. "She told me my eyesight is terrible and that I need to get glasses."

Bob looked at the page and had to hide his alarm from her. Avery failed her eye exam spectacularly. It was a wonder to Bob that she was even able to see in her classroom. But now her squinting and her preference for one, well worn book were starting to make sense. As he filled in the blanks in his mind, he said, "Glasses aren't so bad," while he tapped his own silver frames. "They certainly make my day a lot easier."

She kind of rolled her eyes and said, "But you're an adult. People aren't going to make fun of you for wearing glasses."

"You think you'll get made fun of?" Bob asked softly, folding the yellow paper in half.

"Yes," she replied immediately as she wiped at her tears. "I already do. Glasses will make it so much worse."

Bob wanted to press her for more details, but he didn't think this was the right moment. Instead he asked, "Is that why you only like to read The Secret Garden? Because you already know most of the words by heart?"

Avery looked at him like she couldn't believe he solved a very complex riddle. "Yes."

He nodded and asked, "Would you like to be able to read other books, too? Because glasses would definitely help with that."

She shrugged and sniffed as she said, "I like books about gardens and flowers and fairies. I don't know of any other ones I would like anyway."

Bob patted her on the shoulder one more time and said, "I like those kinds of books, too. And I think I can help you get glasses that look cool and help you pick out more books. If you'll let me."

Another partial shrug was his only answer, but at least she wasn't telling him no. As he climbed back into the driver's seat, he sent you a quick text telling you that he and Avery were fine and to go ahead and have dinner on your own. Then he drove along to his optometrist's office, hoping they would squeeze an extra appointment into their schedule.

"You're in luck," the receptionist told him when they arrived. "There was a last minute cancellation. Have a seat, and we can take you back shortly."

The rack hanging on the wall was filled with books and magazines for people of all ages, but Bob watched Avery squint as she took a seat empty handed. He skimmed a magazine and offered to read an article to her, but she said no. When ten minutes had passed, Bob asked her, "Are the kids at school mean to you?"

He was already considering other options that might make her feel more comfortable when she said, "I just don't fit in. Everyone else has parents or grandparents. Everyone else is loud, and I like it better when it's quiet. Everyone else already made friends."

Bob nodded his head. It was like she was living his own childhood in many ways. "I like it better when it's quiet, too. So does my wife. And making friends can be hard at any age. I still struggle with it."

"You do?" she asked him, eyes wide and interested.

"Absolutely. Sometimes I still get nervous and stumble over what I want to say, and I'm thirty-nine. And you know what?"

"What?"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

He watched Avery take a deep breath and look down at her hands before both of their names were called. Once they were in the exam room, Bob got to witness her fail the test for the second time in one day, and then her tears started up again. The crying was only made worse when the receptionist popped in and tried to quietly tell Bob that Avery wasn't approved for any vision insurance.

The child was clearly smart as a whip, and if she was having a hard time fitting in at school, he didn't want to make it worse by making her feel like she didn't fit in with you and him either. "I was planning on paying out of pocket today," he told the receptionist who just nodded in response. Then he turned to Avery and said, "Looks like the nurse was right. How about we pick out some glasses?"

She looked at the displays while she wiped at her eyes with a tissue, but she wouldn't tell Bob which ones she wanted to try on. "Which ones are the cheapest?" she asked softly.

"I have no idea," Bob replied easily. "What's your favorite color?"

"Purple," she whispered, and Bob followed her squinting gaze to a purple frame sitting on a shelf above her head.

"I like purple, too," he said as he reached them down and handed them to her. She held them for a couple minutes, and Bob decided not to rush her. She finally slipped them on and looked in the mirror, and he told her, "I think they look cool."

She nodded a little bit. "They're pretty good. But nobody else at school has purple glasses."

As she removed them and tried to hand them back to him, Bob quickly looked at the adult sized frames. There was one pair that came in a deep purple, and he kind of liked them. "Just hang onto those for a minute. I need help picking out new glasses for myself, okay? What do you think about these?"

When he removed his wire frames and replaced them with the purple plastic, it seemed like Avery couldn't help but smile. "I like them."

He nodded once. "Then I'll get them. That way we can match since we both like purple. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome," she replied quietly, looking at the glasses she was still holding before handing them to Bob.

He took both pairs in his hand before nodding toward the door. "I'm feeling like it's a good day to get ice cream for dinner and look around the bookstore. I can think of at least two more books that you might like to read once your glasses are ready for you to wear. Sound good?"

"Yes."

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

You didn't know what to expect when Bob brought Avery home after seven o'clock on a school night, but you definitely weren't prepared to hear her laughter for the first time. You'd barely made any progress on your novel since Avery arrived a few weeks ago, merely existing in your own funk all day long. But the sound of Bob's voice followed by her light giggle as they walked inside left you feeling better than you had in ages.

"Hi," you said, your voice dripping with optimism as Bob headed your way with a shopping bag in his hand.

"Hi, Honey," he replied, kissing your cheek while Avery took her shoes off.

"How was school?" you asked her.

"Terrible," she told you with a smile aimed up at Bob. "I failed my eye exam."

"Oh," you gasped, already making a mental note to call the eye doctor first thing in the morning so she could get some glasses. "We can take care of it for you."

"Already did," Bob said as he squeezed your hand. "Stopped on the way home and picked them out. Should be ready next week."

"Really?" you asked in surprise as he pulled two books out of the bag. Both were covered in vines and flowers, but one was clearly a novel for an adult while the other was much slimmer and looked like it was for Avery's reading level.

"Yes," he replied softly. "Now, on the drive home, I told Avery that you're a writer, but that you're also really good at reading books out loud." When you nodded and looked at her, she was squinting up at you. Bob handed you the smaller book and said, "I didn't get to take a shower before I left work, so I need to go do that now. But I promised Avery that you'd read a chapter to her after she gets ready for bed." He patted her on the shoulder and then made his way upstairs.

Your head was swimming with information. New glasses and new books and a child who was looking up at you with hope in her eyes. A husband who set up some time for you to spend alone with her. Tears stung your eyes as you said, "I love reading books out loud. Do you want to change for bed and brush your teeth now?"

Ten minutes later, you were sitting next to Avery on the spare bed, reading to her about a magical garden filled with flowers that turned the characters into superheroes. You read all sixteen pages of the first chapter, and then she asked you to read more.

It was a little bit past bedtime when you finished the third chapter, and she was yawning. "How about I go get you one of my bookmarks from my office? And we can read more tomorrow night?"

"Okay," she replied easily, and when you returned a minute later with a bookmark that had a purple tassel, she smiled. "I like this book so far, but I think I'd like it a lot better if there were fairies, too. Thank you for reading to me."

"You're very welcome," you told her, barely shutting off the light in time for a tear to slide down your cheek. "Goodnight, Avery."

When you rushed into your own bedroom, Bob was in bed reading the other new book. "How did you do it?" you asked him, quickly climbing under the covers with him. "How did you get her to open up a little bit?"

He set the book down with a soft smile. "She just needed some time, Honey. She's a lot like me. She can't be rushed."

"No," you said, pushing your fingers through his hair as you cried a little bit. "That's not it. I think you're actually magical."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But her vision is so bad. That's why I think she kept reading The Secret Garden. She probably has it memorized and didn't want to tell anyone she couldn't see."

"Poor thing," you whispered, realizing that most of Bob's magic came from his patience as you fell asleep in his arms.

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

A week later, Bob noticed you were exhausted, but you seemed a lot happier, because Avery seemed a lot happier. You had successfully read two books to her, and she was starting to become more vocal around the house. He was hoping she was having an easier time making friends at school now, too. But he was a little bit concerned with how late into the night you'd been working.

When he got a message around lunchtime letting him know both pairs of glasses were ready, he smiled. Pretty soon Avery would be able to attempt reading a new book on her own. He sent you a text letting you know that he'd be home with Avery after a quick stop back at the optometrist's office. And when he picked her up from school, she squinted at his car before climbing in the backseat.

"Ready to go get our new glasses?" he asked before pulling out onto the road.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I've decided that wearing glasses is a better alternative than not being able to read new books. At least until I can get contacts."

Bob chuckled. "A wise choice."

A few seconds later, she asked, "Will you take me to the library this weekend? There have to be more books there that I'd like."

"Of course I'll take you to the library. We can ask the librarian to help you find you as many books as you want to read."

He hoped that would make the new glasses an even easier decision for her. He parked and led her inside where the eye doctor got them both fitted correctly before handing them a mirror. "What do you think?" Bob asked as he smiled at Avery. "I think they look cool on you."

She shrugged. "They're okay."

"Can you see better?"

"Yes," she whispered. On the way outside, she said, "Thanks for getting new glasses with me. I like yours, too."

Bob checked himself in the mirror before he backed out of the parking spot. "I think it's kind of my color."

You were waiting in the living room for them when Bob opened the front door. The house smelled like dinner cooking, and you had a stack of bound pages on the couch next to you. When you jumped to your feet, you said, "You both look great!" as you bounced in place a little bit.

"Purple is kind of our color," Avery said, making Bob laugh as you covered your massive smile with your fingertips.

"It really is," you replied, wrapping Bob in a quick hug before cautiously placing your hand on Avery's shoulder for a beat. "I have something I wanted to show you. I was hoping to get your opinion."

"Me?" she asked, looking up at you, eyes wide behind her purple frames.

"Yes," you told her softly. "I've been working on a new story for the past week, and I really think you'll be able to help me with the ending."

"What kind of story?" she asked you, and Bob slowly made his way into the kitchen where he could still hear the two of you talking.

"Well," you told her as she joined you on the couch, "it's about a fairy who gets invited to live in a magic garden. And she starts to learn how to use magic herself while a friendly witch and a kind wizard supervise her. And the garden is really pretty, and she loves it there and starts to make friends with the other creatures. Do you want to take a look at it?"

"Okay."

Bob hovered in the doorway and watched you hand the bound manuscript to the little girl next to you while you chewed nervously on your lip. He knew you wanted this to work out; he did too. He was also very surprised that you'd been working on this for the past week without sharing your secret even with him. But it truthfully wasn't really for him. It was for her. And you.

The child looked up at you and whispered, "You named the fairy Avery."

You just nodded and smiled. "Your name is so pretty, and you remind me of the kind of little girl who would have magic inside her."

Avery turned back to the page in front of her and snuggled in a little bit closer to you. She started reading out loud, and after a few pages, handed it over to you for a little bit. The two of you went back and forth like this for an hour before Bob carried in two plates of dinner and set them on the coffee table.

"Even magic fairies get hungry," he said softly before leaving both of you to the story.

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

When you woke up a few weeks later on Avery's ninth birthday, you were beyond exhausted. The past few nights had been late ones for you as you tried to finish up and edit the story you'd been working on. The title that the two of you came up with was The Littlest Fairy in the Garden, and you were just as proud of this as your true crime releases.

Then you realized that there was actually a reason why you woke up. You could hear Bob talking. It sounded like he was on the phone even though it was barely eight o'clock. You climbed out of bed and stretched before finding him sitting on the floor in the walk-in closet talking softly on the phone in his pajama pants, undershirt and purple glasses.

"I'm sure she's going to agree with me. We want to move forward if that's what Avery wants, but I'll call you back in an hour or two. Thank you so much."

He ended the call right when you asked, "Who was that?"

Bob jumped a bit as he looked up at you with a tentative smile. "Our lawyer," he whispered.

"What did they say?" you whispered back as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around you.

When Bob's lips found your ear, you shivered at his words. "It was just a preliminary conversation, but they asked if we would be interested in pursuing adoption."

"With Avery?" you gasped, and he nodded against you.

"Yes. With Avery."

Tears filled your eyes as you clung to him. You thought about all the books she'd been reading with you and the birthday cake waiting in the kitchen. You could practically still smell the oatmeal cookies she and Bob made a few days ago. You could picture her smile and imagine her laughter, both of which were coming more easily with each passing day. "I want to adopt her. She belongs here. With us."

"I think so, too," he replied immediately, and you could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I think we should have a conversation with her about it today. The process could take a little time, but I want to be sure it's what she wants as well."

You nodded, a jerky motion against him as your heart pounded faster and faster. "Let's talk about it when she wakes up."

Bob led you downstairs to the kitchen, his fingers laced with yours, and he started to crack some eggs while you made coffee and fresh orange juice. Avery had picked the menu for each meal today for her birthday, and the plan was to take her to the zoo after lunch. There was currently a purple banner with flowers and fairies on it stretched across the kitchen along with a large assortment of balloons. You couldn't remember being this excited about something in such a long time.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from the bottom of the stairs, and you nearly dropped a mug on the floor as you turned to look at her.

"Happy birthday!" you and Bob replied in unison, and then all three of you started laughing.

Without another word, Avery made her way into the kitchen in her Minnie Mouse pajamas and gave you a hug around the waist. You gasped softly as you hugged her back, her purple glasses pressing against you. Then she tucked herself against Bob's side and hugged him right after that. "Thanks for all the birthday stuff. And thanks for being so nice to me and getting me glasses and everything."

You and Bob shared a look over her head as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder. "It makes us happy that you're here, Avery," he said softly, and you had to swipe at your tears. "Let's have your breakfast, and maybe we can talk about making this permanent."

"Permanent? Like me staying here for a while?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.

"Like you staying here forever."

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

This is a little birthday treat for @wkndwlff! I hope you have a great day, Taylor! I set out to write a nice little story based on this mood board, but somehow it turned into this angsty thing instead. Thanks to @sylviebell @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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mavsstar · 11 months

Text

𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎

Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.

Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader

W.C︱4k

Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!

Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D

“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?”

“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you.

Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.

Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life.

“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.”

“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”

“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”

“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”

“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock.

“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes.

After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.

Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge.

Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.

You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs.

“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.

“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground.

You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge.

“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise.

“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door.

“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.”

“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door.

“Princess…” he warningly said.

Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world.

“I said I’ll give you a ride.”

“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!”

Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.”

You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it.

“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car.

“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time.

“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented.

Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips.

“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.”

“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.”

“Her father was not present in her life.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.

“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”

“Do that and she will call the cops on you.”

“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?”

“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-”

“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!”

“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.”

“Ari?”

“Yes Rob?”

“Mind your business.”

The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you.

Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”

“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear.

“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.”

“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!”

Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.

“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.”

“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.

“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.”

“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended.

“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!”

You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you.

“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!”

“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire.

“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road.

“Oh no,” you internally whined.

“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.”

“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re not taking her.”

Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?”

“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag.

Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard.

The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.

“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.”

“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?”

“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.”

“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked.

“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.”

“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.

“Is that all?”

“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.”

Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters.

You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.

He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you.

When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body.

“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek.

An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you again.

You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off.

You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.

Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague.

Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated.

“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.”

“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized.

“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”

“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.”

“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.”

“I will.”

“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look.

“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.

“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.”

“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.”

“Yes you are.”

“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.”

“Did you thank him?”

“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you.

The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you.

When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new.

“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.”

“I promise,” you told him before he went inside.

You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch.

The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat.

“Sweet Pea?”

You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.

“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him.

“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you.

“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.”

“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.”

“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.”

“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused.

“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.”

“I really can’t—”

“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes.

You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel.

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes.

His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down.

“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.”

“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.”

Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out.

Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.”

“Why’s that?”

“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.

Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more.

The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts.

“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.”

You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”

“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you.

Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him.

“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.”

“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place.

“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?”

“Oh shut your trap.”

“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked.

“No it’s not!” Ari protested.

“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.

“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied.

“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.”

“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted.

“Yeah in jail.”

Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor.

“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants.

His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief.

All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again.

He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.

His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out.

“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock.

“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out.

“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes.

“Yes,” he admits.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand.

“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out.

“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”

He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”

You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good.

“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you.

You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth.

Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.

He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.

2K notes · View notes

chibsandchill · 3 months

Text

See me

Fandom: Saltburn

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Each room in Saltburn is bursting at the seam with memories with you, and Felix remembers some of his favorite moments as he makes his way to his prize.

Warnings: Felix, Mentions and descriptions of acts of violence and murder, NSFW content, MDNI, 18+, unreliable narrator (Felix), toxic relationship, obsessive tendencies, grammatical and spelling errors, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), Felix is a creep, themes of violence - self-harm and equivalent themes are prevalent through the imagine, some parts of their dynamic takes inspiration from Hannigram but with my spin on obsession

I am not responsible for your media consumption. Read the tags.

MDNI

Masterlist

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

It’s a cloudy day when Felix first saw you,

but with you came the sun,

warmth, empathy, love.

Oh, how he loved your heart. But, oh, how careless you were with it. It was a gift,

one meant for him,

from you.

Then why did you waste it on those beneath you? You chipped away at it to mend sobbing students, tore at it until it bled and thick scars rose like mountains. You took on their pain with a blindingly bright smile,

only Felix saw how their burdens weighed you down.

The sun was meant to warm, to burn from far away,

but they tore you down from your place in the sky so that they might leech your warmth until you are left barren. Their sorrows were cold as ice against you.

They stole you from him. Piece by piece they ripped at you with filthy nails. You became known on campus as someone who’d listen. Who wouldn’t judge. How could you when you felt their problems as if they were your own? The more they spoke those words dripping with poison, the more they tainted the very blood in your veins with their darkness.

‘Walk in their shoes’.

You didn’t need to. You could walk in their skin, feel their emotions as if they were yours. Heartbreak plagued you, sorrow fell on you like an ever present shadow. The death of a family not yours turned your face gray and your eyes misty.

Until Felix put a stop to it all. How could he stand by and watch it happen? The slow destruction of a bright star, who burned so bright that all envied it.

Jenny from history of art, Carl from math, Robert from physics, Matilda from psychology, Caroline, Jeremy, Han, Thomas, Harry, Derek, Henry, Linda, Nico, Mark, John, Hans, William, Frederic. All turned away at your door.

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Oh, how they believed his lies. Sweet, sweet, Felix Catton wouldn’t lie to them. Surely not.

But lie, he did. It spewed from his lips like honey. All to have his sun beam at him again. To wash away the taint of the others from your skin, your heart, your eyes. He would have you look at him with soft, relaxed eyes.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Your protector. Even if you didn’t know it yet.

“Felix.”

He hummed.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep when you look up at him, but the affection is hard to miss. It makes you glow. Felix curled his arm further around you, bringing you closer to him. But even then it is not close enough. He aches. It’s a want deeper than skin, deeper than bones or even his soul. It was as if his very being was made of want, of longing so intense he was blinded by it. If God was indeed real then he had created Felix with a thread laced with obsession, with love transcending all else.

Even thinking about you made his heart race, pound.

“Can I braid your hair?”

“‘Course.” He said against your skin.

As if you needed to ask. All of him was yours.

You try to sit up but Felix isn’t ready to break the contact yet. He feels like a battery, no matter how bizarre a comparison it is, constantly needing to be recharged so that he might survive when you part. He’s constantly cold without you, he feels empty; hollow. His hands are too light with the lack of you, he breathes too easy without the weight of you on his chest. If he could he’d carve his heart out so that you could carry it with you, for that was how he felt anyway. He’d gouge himself hollow so that he could fit you inside. Never to be parted again, joined together by shared blood, flesh and bone.

It’s not easy with his hold on you, but you manage to shift so that you sit in his lap instead. It’s not ideal if you mean to truly braid his hair but Felix won’t complain. He pushed his head into your touch when your fingers hover over him.

“Patience.” You half-heartedly scold him.

Your fingers weave through his hair, nails scratching just right against his scalp. With deft hands you untangle the mess you’d created during the night. There’s not much to braid but more than enough for you to wrap around your fingers and tug. The action pulls a low groan from his throat.

He grabs your hips. Felix wonders if you’ve noticed how he’s caged you in. You probably don’t, as sweet and trusting a being as you surely wouldn’t peel back his layers to gasp at the thriving darkness beneath. With you he was his truest self. Could you see him? Would you run if he were to cast off the layers? Let you see him?

Maybe you already could. You had seen the others. Even the empty ones, the ones who had gouged themselves hollow and shoved the essence of what they thought he wanted until it spilled from every hole in their body.

Felix wasn’t hollow. He was bursting at the seams with life, same as you. And yet you stayed. Surely you knew. You had to. You and he were one. Two pieces of a whole finally reunited.

He breaths in your scent, noses along your throat before allowing his head to rest in the crook of your neck. There’s a bruise there hidden on your shoulder blade. Late one night when you’d already fallen asleep he mouthed it into your skin with the moon as his witness,

only,

it had started to fade.

He’d have to do it again. Closer. Marking you under the cover of darkness wasn’t enough anymore. An unspoken claim didn’t satisfy him anymore. It wasn’t enough. He was beginning to think it never would be. He could bruise every inch of your skin with his love and his skin would still itch to do more – to prove himself more to you.

Just as his hands slide down to rest on the curve of your ass the scene slips through his fingers like sand.

He blinks it away. He’s standing in the driveway of Saltburn. Your favorite statue is left in shambles on the gravel with his blood splattered across the white marble.

“What the fuck.” Felix’s hand shakes and burns with pain. His knuckles are split open.

It had been a slip of a thought he had once when you first came to Saltburn and you’d taken to leaning on the statues, the furniture, walls, pillars. He’d wanted them all gone. He’d be your pillar. He wouldn’t crumble with age, would never make you think they stood strong only for the core to be riddled with holes from pests.

Felix was whole and strong, had made himself such,

for you.

He’d burnt the tendrils of influence his mother had dug into him since childhood. Torn the threads of her darkness right out of the tapestry. Oh, how she cried when she noticed. ‘Felix,’ she’d whispered, a rare show of emotion plastered across her face, ‘what have you done?’.

She shouldn’t have worried about what he had done. No, she should’ve worried about what he was going to do.

He watched you for weeks before approaching you. He noticed what made you laugh, what made you smile, frown, scowl. And so he took that too. Cut out the parts of himself that would drop the smile from your face and sewed on the parts that he lacked until he was left a patch-work version of perfecting befitting a Mary Shelley novel. Pus and blood seeped from the stitches. The sight was unseemly. So he waited until he’d perfected himself, until the stolen was assimilated, until it was like another Felix had never existed.

Felix throws the heavy doors open and the maids scurry away from his sight.

Duncan emerges from the pack. Even after all he’d seen, his adoration for Felix remained. “Welcome back, Felix.”

He nods.

And then he’s off.

The route he takes is reminiscent of your first tour of the mansion. He’s even nodding along as if hearing himself introduce it all. The staircase where he “fingered” his cousin. As if. Your face had reddened with equal parts jealousy and sheer disbelief of ‘what the fuck’.

One of the smaller sitting rooms. The green one. He fucking hates that room. But you love it. He went down on you for the first time there. Right on the couch with his granny’s ghost knocking down a shelf of antique plates over his head. The blood had driven you crazy.

The thought alone made him hard.

But this was also the first room you’d held him properly in. He’d been crying.

“What's wrong?” You ask when he threw the door open.

You’d been doing some summer reading for uni, but your fingers clutched the opening pages with strength that betrayed your pounding headache.

“Fucking Ollie.”

Your brows furrow “Oliver?”

Felix lay down on the couch with his head in your lap. You smell good. And you’re soft.

“Yeah.” He sigh. “He was lying to us this whole time. Turns out poor Oliver Quick has both a dad and mum who loves him. Even siblings! They live in a lovely house in a picture perfect neighborhood.”

‘I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you!’

As if there was even a sliver of Felix that didn’t belong to you, that didn’t scream out for you every second you were apart. Had Oliver not been paying attention? Could he not see the need that permated him? It ran so deep, was so all-consuming that he couldn’t contain it all. He breathed desire, cried longing, even fucking pissed envy. Envy even over the very air you breathed, the clothing that hugged you, the sheets for the audacity to imply he wasn’t enough to keep you warm.

You hum as your fingers drift down to cup his face.

“He was in love with me.”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joke.

Felix’s eyes opened (he hadn’t realized he closed them). “You love me?”

“Of course.” You trace a scar on his cheekbone.

“Say it.”

“I love you, Felix.”

Even that memory fades, but your words linger.

I love you, Felix.

You always linger. Your kisses burn his skin and he wishes it left a scar so that he could look upon it and relive it all.

The green room is abandoned quickly, and he’s off.

“A blue room!” You exclaim, and to Felix’s displeasure you let go of him to take it all in.

“Yeah. It’s… blue.”

“What? No ghosts? No artifacts?”

Felix shakes his head. “Nope. Just blue.”

Felix sees himself leaning against the door while you spin around the room. It’s like a movie, almost. Only it’s his memories and he can remember every second he’s ever spent in your presence. Including this one. And the next one.

The one where you’re on your knees.

You’re pressing soft kisses to the tip of his cock, pressing your love into every inch of skin you can find as if you wanted to stay there, to have your love replace the tar that ran through his veins.

It’s odd. He can almost feel the tingles left by your touch, but he’s untouched. Felix’s hands form fists at the sight. Was it possible to be jealous even of himself? The envy boiling in his stomach certainly said so. He would not share you even with himself.

Felix strides forward and sinks into the place his past self sits. He unbuckles his jeans and frees his cock from his underwear. If he were not so deep in madness he might’ve felt the cold of the room, but he was, and so he felt the warmth of your hands, the wetness of your mouth as you wrap your lips around his tip.

He moans. He didn’t know what he liked the most about it. The vulnerability, the act itself, your presence, or that it left you with a part of him inside you. You’d kneel in front of him for as long as it took, but Felix would not have you be uncomfortable and so he slid a pillow under your knees.

Your hands cup his balls. He twitches. You take more of him into you. It feels like heaven to have you wrap yourself around him. Wet, warm, silky heaven. All for him.

Him. Him. Him. Him. His.

You moan around him. It sends vibrations straight through him. It pulls a low groan straight from his chest, one that makes you moan. His pleasure is your pleasure, and your pleasure is his, and so the circle begins.

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you begin bobbing your head up and down. You slurp. Electricity runs down his spine. It’s wet. Sloppy. Saliva drips down your mouth as you press your nose into his abdomen.

Someone drops a plate somewhere in the house and the spell is broken. Not unlike a reflection in a lake is the memory distorted, wrong. You’re on your knees without the pillow. He’s standing above you, not sitting. Your knees are bruised and bleeding. You’re crying.

Some small part of him, one that he’d allowed to fester for far too long, enjoys the scene. Enjoys the submission, thrives in the knowledge that it is not only he that longs and wants and would press and press until nothing remains if only to bring you a sliver of happiness. You smile around his cock. It’s not the pain that brings you to tears.

This isn’t right. This isn’t him. It’s Elspeth messing with his head. It’s Oliver whispering his lies in his ear.

He wants to vomit. Why would they punish him so? To make him see you hurt,

to force him to see himself hurt you, brutalize you,

humiliate you.

Why, when he adored you, worshiped you. If there was a puddle he’d lay himself down to let you walk over him. He’d drown himself so that you would not have to dirty yourself. Like a tumor he’d performed surgery after surgery to remove what you didn’t like.

And you did the same.

The image is restored, but he’s already on his feet.

He would wait no longer.

Felix runs up the stairs but is forced to a halt by the moans coming from the king’s bedroom. Another memory? The door is already open.

“Tell me your vows again.”

You’ve got your legs up in the air behind you, head resting in your hands as you stare at him.

“Dear,” Felix turns around from where he stood by the window. Your name sounds like prayer on his lips. “I’ve never been alone. People have flocked to me since before I can remember. But they didn’t see me. But you… you, I let you see me. It’s a rare gift. And it’s one that I’ve never regretted giving you. I’ve never felt more loved than in your arms. Do I need to continue, Mrs Catton?”

You laugh.

“Come to bed, Felix.”

The memory changes before he can enjoy the sight of you in your wedding dress. The happiest day of his life. Gone in a blink.

You’re no longer on the bed. You’re in his arms, crying yet again. There’s blood on his shirt. No finger graces your finger. Felix closes his eyes. He knows this memory. KNows very well what he’d have to endure to get back to you.

“Y-you killed him!” You shudder.

Felix shushes you. “There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“Not this time."

Truly, there wasn’t. You saw much, but Oliver was so good at pretending to be someone else that he even fooled himself into believing his own lies. And so, you thought nothing of it when Oliver offered you his bottle of wine. Had no idea of the drugs that he’d shoved in there.

“Are you scared of me?” Felix asks you. His voice shakes. He remembers his own fear, how his stomach churned. He could write a thousand words and not even chip at the surface of the emotions he felt. A thrill at the thought of you finally seeing the deepest deepest parts of him? Disgust that he’d slipped and revealed a crack in his mask? Such fear that it clung to his very bones, stopped his lungs from working and had his own eyes water with tears? All true. And yet all of them are false. There wasn’t a single emotion he could place, they all blended together to form a concoction of heart-wrenching pain and fear.

The memory fades away. He doesn’t remember the rest. All he remembers is how it ended.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts. His hands are cradling your face, kissing away the tears of pleasure. You push your legs up higher on his back where you’ve hitched them, your own hands pressing against his own face to bring him closer. He’s inside you but he’s not close enough.

Felix leans down to cover your whole body with his. You squeak at the change.

“Oh god,” you throw your head back with a moan.

He moves a deft finger down to press down on your clit. He experimented with pressure, directions, even spelled out his own name with your pleasure. Felix feels as though he’s on fire, but still he wants more. He wants to be closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

You clench around his cock, and he stutters.

The love in your eyes makes him falter, before he drives into you faster than before. The bed squeaks, one hard thrust away from breaking. Fitting. So is he. Your right hand moved up his cheekbone, past his ear and to the back of his head. Your touch is gentle, barely-there pressure as you guide him down to slant your mouth over his. His heart aches with love, adoration, you. You’ve made it your home.

Yet again he is denied release as the memory is gone. The room is empty.

“Fuck.”

It’s not graceful the way he stalks out of the room. No more interruptions, he thinks.

The last door in the corridor. Yours. And his. Your marital chambers, as Duncan would call it. Old fashioned bastard.

He pushes it open without as much as a knock. And there you are.

“Felix!” You cross the room in seconds and then you’ve thrown yourself in his arms. “We missed you!”

Your rounded stomach presses into him. He rests his forehead on yours, pressing long, soft kisses against your lips, even as you giggle and try to move away. When you do, he chases after you. He’s not done. Never done.

His legs feel like jelly, his soul is on fire,

but he finally found you.

In a house full of memories and vengeful ghosts he found you.

And you saw him, as you always do, and he’s tugged back into bed with the comforting weight of you pressing him down into the mattress.

And he’s almost content.

Almost.

Taglist:

@fedyascoffin

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton smut #felix catton imagine

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bradshawsbaby · 3 months

Text

Change of Plans

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are supposed to be getting ready to attend the Navy Ball, but after being gone on a mission for three months, your husband has other plans.

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Happy International Bob Floyd Fucks Month! Thanks for hosting, @attapullman!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), allusions to sex, innuendos, and fluff because I'm physically incapable of not writing fluff.

All the make-up in the world wasn’t going to hide this hickey.

Groaning in frustration, you rose from the stool at your vanity and leaned in closer to the mirror, dabbing delicately at the sensitive, bruised skin at the base of your throat, right along your collarbone. It felt as though you had already applied half your tube of concealer, and still the purplish mark was glaring back at you, mocking you with its prominence.

It was hopeless.

Maybe you could swap out the necklace you had been planning to wear tonight with a larger one from your jewelry box? Oh, but the one you had already chosen paired so perfectly with your dress. Would anyone believe you if you said you had walked into a kitchen cabinet? Highly unlikely.

“Damn you, Robert Floyd,” you muttered under your breath, futilely smudging another round of concealer on your skin with your beauty blender.

You certainly hadn’t been complaining when your husband had given you the love bites the night before, too swept up in pleasure and your desire for him to have had the forethought to consider the impact his mouth was going to have on your attire for tonight’s big event.

Bob had returned only two days earlier from a three-month mission—the longest he’d been gone since your wedding—and he had been absolutely insatiable since coming home. Not to say that the two of you didn’t enjoy a very healthy and robust sex life, but these past two days had been something else. You’d seen a side of your sweet, mild-mannered husband that thrilled you in its passionate desperation. Just yesterday, he’d held you as a very willing captive in bed all day long, his lips and tongue tracing every curve and contour of your body, his mouth memorizing the taste of your skin.

Hence, the hickies.

At least the rest of them were scattered across your body in places no one else would find. It was just this pesky one on your neck.

Sighing softly, you took a small step backward and turned your head from side to side, surveying the work you’d done from different angles. From a distance, maybe people would think it was a birthmark? Or maybe if you wore your hair down, instead of swept back in the updo you currently had it pinned in, it would serve as a shield.

Or maybe you would just have to walk into the United States Navy Ball letting everyone know that Lieutenant Robert Floyd, the shy, meek WSO that so many people underestimated on a daily basis, enjoyed marking up his wife’s neck.

The Dagger Squad’s return had coincided with the Navy’s birthday, which meant that they had barely been home a couple days and already they were having to don their dress blues for the blowout birthday bash. Bob normally enjoyed attending the ball, but this time, he’d been looking for any excuse to get out of it.

“I just want to stay here with you,” he’d mumbled against your lips just that morning. “You’re the only one I want to be with right now.”

Maybe the hickies hadn’t been as innocuous as you thought. Maybe they had been a calculated attack on your husband’s part to convince you to pull the plug on your evening plans. The thought made you shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Just then, you heard Bob’s voice reverberating through your small bungalow, the sound of his footsteps growing closer as he approached the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, do you know where I put my cuff—”

His voice trailed off as soon as he entered the room, which made you glance over your shoulder to discern the reason why.

He was half dressed, clad in his blue dress pants and a crisp white button down shirt, sans the missing cufflinks. But he no longer seemed concerned about that as he stood staring at you, his blue eyes blown wide behind his glasses. He was drinking in the sight of you like a parched man in the desert.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, his voice almost reverent.

“What?” you giggled softly, feeling your cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Bob just continued to stare, wordlessly appreciating you as his eyes raked you over from head to toe.

You turned back to your vanity mirror to figure out what it was that he found so mesmerizing. You’d been so fixated on hiding that hickey that you hadn’t even paid much attention to what the rest of you looked like.

Your hair and make-up were already done, the blush and lipstick you had chosen doing much to accentuate your features. You hadn’t wanted to get anything on your gown, so you were dressed only in your sheer silk stockings and the little chocolate-colored silk slip that you were going to be wearing underneath your dress. You had to admit that you did look quite good. And Bob always did love you in silk.

“Don’t get any ideas, Lieutenant,” you teased, batting your eyelashes over your shoulder as you leaned in closer to the mirror and carefully wiped at a small smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, honey, do we have to go tonight?” Bob groaned, stepping further into the room and walking right up behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the vanity mirror as he rested his hands on your hips.

“Yes, we do,” you laughed, privately reveling in the feel of his large, warm hands pressed against you. “We told all our friends we would be there, and all your bosses are going to be there, too.”

“They know who I am,” he argued, ducking his head and pressing soft, languid kisses to your shoulder. “I think we’re well past the need for making good impressions.” His lips transferred from one shoulder to the other, leaving a trail of searing kisses in his wake.

“But it’s the Navy’s birthday,” you countered, trying not to waver in your resolve. “You love the Navy.” Your breath caught slightly at the end of that last sentence, but you were hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I love you more,” Bob murmured, his lips now moving towards your neck. “Besides,” he whispered against your ear, lightly nipping at your earlobe, “the Navy’s had almost 250 birthdays. It won’t mind if I miss one party.”

“What about my dress?” you sighed softly, letting your head loll back against his shoulder as his hands began roaming over your stomach and thighs, his kisses against your neck and shoulders becoming more insistent.

“You can save it for next year,” he chuckled lightly, his broad chest rumbling against your back. “As beautiful as I’m sure you’d look in it, I think you look even more beautiful out of it,” he added in a low voice, his massive hands sliding up your body until they were gently cupping your breasts.

“Bob,” you moaned out softly, trying to scold him even as your eyes fluttered closed from how good his touch felt. “We shouldn’t. We’re going to be late.”

Your husband didn’t respond with words this time, just hummed faintly against your skin while he nibbled gently along your jaw, the veins in his hands standing out against his fair skin as he began kneading and massaging your breasts through the thin material of your slip. You’d always loved his hands—after his beautiful eyes and his kind smile, they were one of your favorite features on him.

“You’re not playing fair,” you giggled breathily, your toes curling and an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs as his hands continued to caress your body, one remaining on your breast while the other glided down along your side, tenderly stroking your stockinged thigh.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent of your perfume. It was his favorite. You always sent him with a bottle of it when he left on a mission or deployment so that he could spray it on his pillow and be reminded of you. When he arrived home two days ago after being gone for three whole months, the bottle was empty. “I missed you so much. Please.”

“Oh, Bobby,” you exhaled, reaching behind you and raking your fingers through his hair, mussing his neatly combed locks. “How could I ever say no to you?”

With that greenlight, Bob swiftly turned you in his arms so that you were facing him, your back to your vanity mirror as he crushed you against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his lips crashing against yours in a heated embrace.

Moaning delightedly into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around him, caressing the nape of his neck with your manicured fingers as his hands slid down your back until they were cupping your butt, pulling you even closer to him.

You felt the loss of him when he pulled back, your lips desperately chasing his even as he lifted those big hands of his to cradle your face, one thumb brushing across your bottom lip as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“What happened to us being late?” he joked, kissing the tip of your nose and then peppering your cheeks and jaw with tiny, barely-there kisses.

“My husband can be very persuasive,” you grinned, fisting your hands in the front of his dress shirt and turning your face upward, willing his lips to return to yours.

Bob chuckled at that, tenderly brushing a loose lock of hair out of your face. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. Just getting to hold you in my arms again. I never want to let you go,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, just enough to send tingles racing up and down your spine, but not enough to satisfy the ache gnawing at you, deep inside. “Sit down,” he told you quietly, indicating your long-forgotten vanity stool with a short nod of his head.

Swollen lips still desperate for more of his kisses, you pouted slightly, but did as he said, slowly lowering yourself down onto the stool and staring up at your husband, wondering what was on his mind.

But then suddenly your tall, strong, handsome husband was sinking to his knees in front of you and all questions and coherent thoughts flew out of your mind.

“Honey,” he groaned out in a husky voice, burying his face in your lap and littering the tops of your thighs with hot, hungry kisses, his arms coming up to encircle your waist. “I love you. I love you so much,” he murmured, nudging the hem of your slip up slowly with his nose.

“I love you, too, Bobby,” you told him, running your fingers through his hair, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the naked adoration you felt in every little thing he did and said.

Head still resting in your lap, Bob’s arms slowly began to slide back down your body, his fingertips tracing a hot trail down your legs. He loved when you wore silk stockings, his hands running back and forth over the thin, sheer material with a sense of awe. Shifting back slightly, he pushed your slip up so that your stockinged thighs were more fully exposed to him. He gazed at them for a minute or two, as if just wanting to admire their beauty, and then bent his head down, planting one kiss after another on each thigh, all in a neat row. His movements were slow, unhurried, purposeful. He was taking his time worshiping your body and he wanted you to know it.

After several minutes of kissing your thighs, Bob turned his attention to your knees, pressing soft kisses to the insides of each of them. And as his lips danced across your skin, his hands slid up and down the backs of your calves, gently massaging as he went.

“Bobby,” you breathed out, your fingers continuing to run through his hair as you bit your bottom lip, your back arching as you felt your nipples harden and desire pool and pulse between your legs.

“Have I told you lately how much I love these thighs?” he asked, his eyebrows rising as his glance turned upward towards your face, his mouth still skimming the insides of your knees, slowly moving higher. “I could happily spend the rest of my life between these thighs,” he sighed, lightly biting down on the supple flesh.

“Bobby!” you giggled, feeling your skin grow warm from his praise and from how turned on it was making you.

He evidently didn’t want the hickey that you still hadn’t managed to conceal to feel lonely, because he suddenly began a passionate assault on your upper thighs, kissing and sucking and biting until you could see the small red marks appearing, even through your stockings.

Letting out a low moan of arousal, you found yourself tugging on his hair, pulling his head up and dragging his mouth towards yours. Bob happily obliged, his strong arms wrapping securely around your body as he kissed you with a newly unlocked fervor. His long, calloused fingers found purchase in your hair and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that it would completely ruin the updo you’d spent an hour styling. Your vision had tunneled to only him. He was the only thing that mattered right now.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, panting and desperately running your hands over each other’s bodies, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your lipstick smudged all over your husband’s face.

“I don’t know if it’s your color,” you teased, wiping your hand across his mouth and chin with an amused twinkle in your eye.

Bob laughed in response, but his blue eyes grew darker with want as he gazed at you, your skin flushed and hot to the touch, your own eyes wide and dark with desire, the lipstick practically rubbed clean off your lips.

“Oh, Bob,” you whimpered quietly, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his neck. Two could play at the game he was playing. You peppered kisses up and down the column of his throat, what was left of your lipstick leaving a trail of seduction in your wake. As you moved down towards his collarbone, you realized you had even left a smudge of red on the collar of his crisp white uniform shirt.

Bob’s breathing was growing heavier, more strained, and as you pressed your body closer to his, you could feel how hard he was for you. But it wasn’t until you began sucking softly on the pulse point just beneath his jaw that a tortured groan burst forth from his lips, his grip on your body tightening as he lifted you from the vanity stool and carried you over to the bed, carefully laying you down so that your head was resting against the pillows.

His glasses were slightly askew, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the tent in the front of his uniform pants standing at attention as he gazed down at you with open and unabashed adoration.

You found yourself squeezing your legs together in anticipation as you stared back, your breath catching in your throat when he climbed on top of you, his nose nudging yours as he pressed your foreheads together, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Those were the longest three months of my life,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from both arousal and emotion.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with gentle fingertips. It had been torture waking up to an empty bed every day these past few months. “But it’s over now. We’re together again. I’m right here.”

Bob nodded, tracing the outline of your face as if trying to convince himself that it was true. “You’re right here,” he repeated, dropping a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “And I need you so badly.”

Without further preamble, he began kissing his way down your body, paying particular attention to the spot you’d spent the better part of twenty minutes trying to mask earlier. It seemed you would just have to rock the hickey at this point—well, that or invest in a lot of turtlenecks.

You giggled softly as he kissed down your stomach, his light pecks tickling you even through your slip. But the laughter died in your throat the second he began pushing the chocolate-brown fabric up around your waist, his skilled fingers dipping inside the waistband of your stockings and ever so slowly dragging them down your legs.

Moaning softly, you tucked your chin and lowered your gaze to watch his every movement, noting the way he was careful with everything he did, making sure not to tear the fragile silk as he slid it off you, letting the light material flutter to the bedroom floor as he then focused his attention on the small scrap of material still hiding you from him, the brown silk that matched your slip.

He was careful, calculated in his every movement. He was taking his time with you. He was finally home, finally back where he belonged, and he wasn’t going to take a second of it for granted.

“Bobby,” you gasped softly, your back arching slightly as he began kissing his way up your leg, starting at your ankle. He repeated the same process on your other leg, tormenting you with his languorous movements. You could feel yourself growing soaked with need, burying your manicured fingers in his hair and tugging slightly to signify your impatience.

Bob chuckled lowly against your skin in response, the feel of it causing goosebumps to rise on your legs. His teeth scraped lightly along your inner thigh, and then he was soothing it with gentle kisses. His fingers began ghosting along the waistband of your silk underwear, the dark wet patch at your center only growing as you felt him so close to where you needed him.

“You’re so wet for me,” Bob breathed out, his breath warm against your core as his eyes widened behind his BCGs. You found it endearing, the way he said it. He always said it as if it was the most shocking discovery in the world. As if, even after all this time, he still couldn’t believe that he got you this aroused.

“Yes,” you nodded, reaching down to lightly touch his cheek. “You always get me like this. I need you, Bob.”

Your words lit a fire inside him and all at once he was pressing his face against your clothed core, breathing in your scent and allowing his tongue to gently tease you. You could feel him smiling against you when you let out a gasp of surprise, your hips bucking slightly at the feel of his mouth on you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your hip as he firmly hooked his fingers inside the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, tossing them so that they joined your abandoned stockings on the floor.

“Love you, love you,” you moaned as he pushed your legs open wider, settling himself comfortably on his stomach and getting to work.

Your husband’s tongue was a wondrous thing. The sweetest words dripped off it like honey, words that made you feel cherished and loved and known. It was a tongue that could take your breath away when he kissed you with it, those honeyed words still fresh in his mouth as he sought to communicate everything he couldn’t say with words alone. And it was a tongue that could make you fall apart and turn into a whimpering, writhing mess when he put it to use between your legs.

And right now, he was putting it to use.

“Bob! Oh, Bobby!” you cried out, drawing your knees up slightly as he licked a few firm stripes from your entrance up to that tiny bundle of nerves that he knew like the back of his hand. When you felt his hands come to rest on your hips, pressing them down into the mattress, you draped your hands over them, clinging to his fingers like an anchor.

He knew just what to do to get you going, just what to do to turn you on and make you feel like your body was singing. Half the time, you were convinced that he knew your body even better than you yourself did.

Right now, he was lazily tracing figure eights against you with his tongue, a warm-up for the intense pleasure that you knew was soon to follow. You continued to moan and whimper in pleasure, knowing that your husband loved it when he could hear how much you were enjoying yourself. Wanting to encourage him further, you removed one of your hands from his and pressed it against the back of his head, carding your fingers through his soft locks.

You were about to let out a noise of protest when he pulled back slightly, but it was quickly replaced with a sigh of gratification when he used the calloused pads of his fingers to spread you open, gathering your slick on his fingers and spreading it up and down. You could hear him sucking it into his mouth, a pleased hum rumbling from inside his chest, which only pushed you closer to the edge. This man was going to make you come and he had hardly even done anything yet.

“Taste so good, honey,” he mumbled against you, his midwestern drawl coming out thicker, which made you smile. That always happened when he was turned on.

Clearly he was starting to grow as impatient as you were because he dove back in, warm-ups forgotten, and wrapped his lips directly around your clit, sucking with all his might. When you cried out and arched up off the bed, he ran a soothing hand down your thigh, squeezing your flesh to keep you grounded. His glasses slid forward as he pressed his mouth more tightly to you, kissing and sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

You were completely incoherent at that point, reaching out to grip the bedsheets in white-knuckled fists as your husband brought you closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm. When he slipped two fingers inside you and began curling them gently, your mind went completely blank and you found yourself incapable of uttering any word other than his name.

It fell from your lips in an endless litany, your hips grinding against his mouth and your fingers digging sharply into his scalp. He didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, your actions seemed to spur him on further, his fingers increasing their pace as his lips and tongue continued their joint attack on your most sensitive parts.

From the way he was gasping and moaning against you, you knew that he was turned on, too. That was another thing you found so incredibly endearing and so unbelievably sexy about your husband—he loved going down on you. There had been times when he had gotten off from that alone. And he was unapologetic about it.

“Just love the way you taste, sweetheart,” he often told you, a sheepish smile on his face as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “I love making you feel that good.”

Glancing downward, trying so hard to catch your breath, you realized that Bob was grinding his hips against the bed as he continued to devour you, and it nearly made you climax right then and there.

Between his ruined shirt and his soon to be ruined pants, you were going to have to get his dress blues to the dry cleaner ASAP.

“B-Bobby, baby, I’m close,” you keened, your eyes squeezing shut as the sensations of pleasure washed over you and coursed through your veins. “So close.”

Bob didn’t reply, just doubled down on his efforts, slipping a third finger inside you and circling your core with his tongue, not relenting until he felt your thighs begin to shake in that telltale way he recognized so well.

The white hot coil that had been tightening deep inside you was nearly at its breaking point, your cries of pleasure turning into breathy pants as you felt yourself teetering right on the edge, hardly able to breathe as your legs tensed up, trapping your husband between your thighs, just like he’d wanted. Both of your hands found purchase in his hair, your legs draped over his shoulders and your body bucking upward off the bed.

With a loud sob of his name, your orgasm exploded around you, stars dancing in your vision and your entire body trembling as the aftershocks coursed through you.

Bob held onto you tightly through it all, gently removing his mouth and his fingers as you became too sensitive, whimpering softly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered soothingly, collapsing beside you and taking you into his arms. “I’m right here,” he cooed, pressing gentle, tender kisses to your cheek, his fogged-up glasses bumping against your temple.

“Oh, Bobby,” you sighed happily, curling up against his chest and letting him hold you.

The two of you laid there like that for several minutes, lost in the haze of the afterglow. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

Then suddenly Bob was shifting slightly, moving to get out of bed, which had you clinging to him.

“Don’t get up,” you begged, kissing along his jawline. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

Bob chuckled quietly, adjusting his glasses. “What about the Navy Ball that you were so adamant about getting to?”

“I changed my mind,” you grinned, running your fingers over the buttons on his shirt. “Besides,” you added with a wink, “you ruined my hair.”

He laughed loudly at that, pulling you towards him and dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” he promised you, giving you a few more quick pecks before climbing out of bed.

Sighing softly, you rolled onto your back and twirled a lock of hair that had come loose around your finger. You weren’t sure where your husband was going, but you realized he must have left his phone in another room when you suddenly heard his voice coming from the direction of the living room.

“Hey, Phoenix,” you heard him saying. Even from the bedroom, you could hear the blush in his voice, could imagine him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It made you smile. “Change of plans. We’re not going to be able to make it tonight.”

There was silence for a moment, and you could imagine his frontseater teasingly giving him hell for ditching when the rest of the squad was being forced to attend after just getting back home. You laughed softly.

“Yeah, tell everyone I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice getting closer. You sat up slightly when you heard Bob tell Phoenix that he thought you were coming down with something.

It was quiet again as Phoenix must have been saying something, and then Bob was back in the room, standing beside the bed and grinning down at you. “Yeah, I think she’s got a fever or something. She’s just burning up,” he said, winking at you.

Giggling softly, you picked up a pillow and whacked him in the leg with it.

“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Phoenix. Have fun tonight,” Bob told her before hanging up with a chuckle. “Phoenix says she hopes you feel better.”

“Robert Floyd!” you laughed, whacking him again. This time, however, he caught the pillow in both hands and used it to pull you closer to him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I needed to find a quick excuse,” he grinned, kissing you softly. Pulling back, he took the pillow from you and dropped it onto the bed, crawling back in beside you. “Besides, I really do think you’re burning up,” he teased, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Oh, yeah, I do think I’m coming down with something for sure. I feel hot all over,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay in bed all night,” Bob mused, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “As your husband, I think it’s only right that I stay, too, to take care of you.”

“Mmm, yes, I think that sounds like a very wise plan indeed,” you nodded sagely. “But, you know, you might as well get comfortable and take off all these clothes,” you went on, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Excellent point, sweetheart,” he replied, the two of you finally dissolving into a fit of laughter as you helped him strip out of his uniform and throw it to the floor, joining the pile with your previously discarded clothing.

The two of you spent all of that evening, and most of the following morning, in bed. It was just what the doctor ordered.

And when Phoenix texted you the following afternoon to see how you were doing, you were pleased to tell her that you were feeling much better.

#international bob floyd fucks month #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

498 notes · View notes

visionsofmagic · 1 year

Text

⎯ differences [m] [1/2]

[masterlist]

▸pairing: bruce wayne/the batman x f!reader [battinson version]

▸summary: having sex with bruce and the batman is totally different.

▸wc: 3.1k

▸warnings & tags: B REFERS TO BOTH BRUCE AND BATMAN [in other words, I used B as to say, ‘Bruce & Bats’.] events take place after the batman movie (2022), not mention of selina. PART 1 OF 2 . now, we have some warnings and these are; pet names, bats being hunter and y/n prey (as symbol ofc), personality confusion, fingering, licking, rough movements, nude, dirty talk (a little), begging, kneeling, explicit language, fluff after smut, +18.

The man you were in love had totally two different sides; not because of being a toxic person. He was a good person who just seeks peace for his and Gotham’s own good. Different sides were there because he was a gentle, sweet guy on daylight, and a vigilante, wearing a bat suit in midnight to seek justice. Bruce Wayne and The Batman was totally same person. However, having a mask on and off made Bruce have different sides. The bat suit was giving him power, strength and bravery. With it, Bruce has become more than a human. Everyone saw him as a freak while others found safety with his presence. For you, both Bruce and Batman was your lover. Even if Batman was just Bruce with a bat mask on, he literally became utterly different with his Batman persona.

As the night came to the scene, it was Batman’s time to show up. In daylight, you couldn’t reach Bruce because he was avoiding you for some time now to keep you safe. You respected his choice because his new playboy profile has become famous in whole Gotham city, even if it was a little. He didn’t want you to get recognize by his surrenders because there was a new treat for the city and he wanted keep you hidden and safe for a while, ‘till he discover who is this new treat. They could be someone from Bruce life as well as Bats.

So, when he showed up on the roof of a huge building, hidden from the city’s eyes, a smile already was placed on your now happy face. Whenever you were with Bruce and Bats, you always felt so safe. B was making you feel unique emotions with his presence, every single time.

“Hi,” He tried to look calm but after spending so much time with his two personas, you knew how he was happy too like you. You two didn’t meet for four days ‘till this night, so, you rushed to him, hugging your hands around his neck, placing your head to his strong shoulder. “It’s nice to see you too.” His voice was darker than normal. You wondered what he was thinking that moment.

To get some hints from his half covered face, dark colored eyes and body movement, you stepped two steps behind, now standing right in front of his huge and powerful body, “I thought you had business for this night too.” He was searching for some information from underground of the city, and you were just keeping his records safe and sound in his hidden place on the roof you both had created in order to helping each other. You were not a special person, but your intelligence and ability to solve codes were something that you could work on for him. B said how you didn’t have to do it again and again but you were stubborn. If he was going to fight with crime, you would too. He was not alone. He needed to know that he was not alone.

After sensing your sadness covered with lots of happiness now made him put a little teasing smile, as you could say, on his face, “I didn’t know you missed me this much.”

You rolled your eyes, leaving him there to sit on one of the technological desks he has. You put your one leg to another, hands resting on the table, “I am not the only one.”

His audible footsteps stopped right in front of you, ready to get between your legs. His closeness made you realize how you missed to have him. You body missed him as well as your soul. Knowing he missed you too, in both ways, excitement hit you. Whenever you were with B, you had felt a dangerous feeling on your abdomen. Other than love centered feelings, he was making you take some actions. Actions that seen as sins but given chills to your core.

Without saying anything, he found his place between your legs, touching your cheek with his gloved hand. Oh, how you missed to feel his skin but this was not available at the moment. So, you enjoyed what you had. Closing your eyes, you leaned to his touch. “Was it hard?” You asked, referring to his previous dangerous missions without you in the past four days.

He nodded, still looking unreadable. He was a little different today and you would find out what was wrong.

“It’s okay.” You touched his half exposed face, feeling both his skin and mask. “You have me now.”

“Yes, I have.”

After hearing his unstable voice, you realized how he needed your touches. It didn’t take you more than two seconds to connect your lips together. Warmth of your lips transferred to his cold ones, giving you both satisfactions.

The air turned from cold to hot in a second after having him between your arms again. As lips collapsed each other, bodies became closer to each other, wanting to feel more, having hard times to keep calm posture. However, thanks to Bats’ unreadable behavior right now, you wanted to find out what was bothering him. First, you should give him a clear mind, then you can give him all of you.

You left his lips, but kept closeness, “Tell me.” You said, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

His brows furrowed, looking irritated about leaving your lips and having this conversation right now. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He tried to leave you there but you held him in his place by closing your legs together, crashing his strong thighs. He was trying to escape. There was literally something bothering him.

“You can’t escape this time big boy.”

“It’s just –“ He hesitated for a second, “It’s Bruce.”

A confused expression appeared on your face, “What about him?” It was weird a little bit, referring Bruce as him while Bats was just Bruce’s himself.

“They are seeking for him. About money and statue.”

A sudden concern hit you. Rushing towards your technological equipments for searching names who wants to use Bruce, you asked, “Who are they?”

He didn’t respond. He stood still, not giving any emotion.

“You should leave. Be at home for the next week, ‘till I found them.”

“And hunt them? All alone?!” Poison of anger was spreading from your voice to Bats’ ears, making him look furious too. “You know I can’t let you go into the rabbit hole all alone, B.”

“This time is different.”

“No, it’s not!” Your hands placed on your hair, pulling it with a little force. Ready to cry because of concern and anger, you tried to sound clear, “I will not leave you. Never.”

Bats came to your side, “You don’t understand. I need you to be safe –“

“And I need to be on your side!”

The attraction between the two nervous and concerned bodies was visible even to an outside eye. Two pairs of determined eyes stared at each other for a long time before the bodies collided to each other. Although at the end of the day one would accept the other's word, what mattered now were the longing passionate feelings that anger brought with it.

As lips connected once again, a huge adrenaline exploded inside, making them act in a rush on the outside.

Batman’s strong arms hugged you from waist, caging your smaller body like you are what he needed more than anything. It’s was like there was poison in his system, and you were his cure. Indeed, you, your body and soul were his cure.

With a step forward, he made your body hit the table behind you. Without leaving your lips, he picked you up, placed your body on the surface of the table. After sitting down, your hands reached for his bat mask’s pointed ears. Holding them with your bare hands, you felt so powerful. The fucking Batman, who was spreading horror and terror for criminal in the whole Gotham city, was letting you touching him with the way you liked the most. He wasn’t complaining anything. He just took your every gesture, body movement and sound as open invitations for his further desires.

Having sex with Bruce and Bats was totally different and now, after spending past four days without your presence beside him which made him miss you so much, and feeling anger, the sex with Bats would be devastating but the most beautiful thing in the world. He was going to take revenge of the days he missed you, and for your previous stubborn behavior and you would just accept it with great lust.

After putting your delicate body on the table, he took his place between your thighs, wanting feel you fully. You knew even without his bat suit, this man was full of strength but it was a fact that with his suit on, you always felt a great passion which drives you crazy every fucking time.

“Bats are you su–“ You even couldn’t finish your sentence about having private moments on a roof which was normal for him as he nearly tore apart your top. He was like a wild animal that was gone for a hunt and came back to his beloved one to calm down his harsh nature, finding both passion and peace.

“It costed me a lot, you know –“ Your nonsense sentence which was a result of feeling a sudden shy cut by him again. He wasn’t thinking at all. He was doing what he wanted to do with you, or to you. You had no strength to make him think. Because of his movements, he was making you forget to think. He just gave you a chance to act according to your own desires. He wanted to see your burning side. Not the shy one, unlike Bruce’s want.

Second piece that ripped out from your body was the black skinny pants. His gloved hands didn’t stop ‘till you had no longer clothes on your body. Now, your exposed body was in front of his black colored eyes, looking like fire’s itself, traveling from top to toe without feeling shy. One of the things you liked about Bats was his shameless gazes. He took every part of your body like it was the most beautiful piece in the world made just for him.

“B –“

Between rapid breathing, you tried to get his attention to you, wanting to ask if he wanted to go more private place or not but he didn’t hear you. He just took your hardened nipple in his mouth, catching the other one with his other gloved hand, giving you a sudden warm feeling. His tongue on your nipple and hand made you soak. You could feel wetness coming from your core to thighs. Batman was right here with you and he was sucking your nipple hardly, making you jump with every tongue motion.

He chanced his mouth and hand’s places, now he was sucking other nipple, sending a joy to your core and making wetness increase its density. Slowly, his right hand traveled from your breast to abdomen, then finding its way to your core. You thought he was going to play with you a little, maybe preparing you slowly but he didn’t. He just removed his glove with a fast move and suddenly, his two fingers were inside you.

“Ah – “

“Shh –“ His deep voice penetrated into you, “Take it.”

He left no room for you to speak, to show how his rough finger moves were taking you to climax. Like a good girl, you took it.

And like a naughty, unreasonable girl, you said, “Not enough.”

Then, his dark colored and dangerous eyes looked at your face, trying to find a weak part to tear apart, making you feel sorry to say that. His eyes were speaking enough though, ‘How brave of you, don’t you think?’

Without saying something more with his eyes or mouth, his finger’s pace increased, going in and out rapidly, hitting your abdomen. He had no mercy. Not anymore. And here you were, crying because of both lust and pain. Regretting for your action wasn’t a choice anymore. You knew you couldn’t take back. He was going to tear you apart. Just now, you were his beloved one who he would find calmness and peace. Now, you were his prey. A prey which he must show his dominance on.

While his fingers kept their pace, his free hand found its way on your neck, holding it high enough to make you face him. Seeing his burning eyes, you reached the climax, ready to let it all go but you knew there was one thing to do, “Please.” You looked at his lips, then eyes again. “Let me.”

He tilted his head to left, “Let you what?” Lowering his head, he tightened his touch, not leaving your core at all. “I can’t understand you if you don’t say what you want clearly.”

Oh, it wasn’t time to play at all!

“Please!” You begged, “I need to –“ A shy feeling hit you again but your lust was far beyond from it. “I need to cum! Let me cum, Bats, please!”

A phantom smirk fled visibly on his lips for a moment, “Good girl.”

And this was all you need.

As your cum fell out from your core to his fingers which were staying inside even after your climax, new hunger hit you. Instead of his fingers, you wanted him. You wanted him to bury himself inside you. You wanted him to fuck you and with that new hunger, there was nothing to stop you from saying this aloud, making him bossy again.

“Fuck me.” There was no shame anymore. “Fuck me Bats. I need it. I need you.”

As fingers left your core, he looked at your pathetic body.

“No.” He said without hesitation, “I will do better than that.”

With his last words, he crouched down in front of you, taking one of your legs and putting it on his shoulder.

The moment you realized what he was going to do, his fingers again found their ways inside you, putting some juices you made back in. Because of sensitive skin, higher sensation of passion sent its jolt to every part of your body. Moans weren’t stopping, making roof so noisy. No sound from Bats and so much sound from you. He was hunter, you were a prey.

“Bats!”

You shouted his name as his tongue joined to his fingers, licking every juice you made now and then without thinking about your condition. If he just took a look at your face, he would just see a desperate woman who is wanted to be fucked by him but got something more, something that made her mind go beyond this world’s reality.

No one but expect you could taste the feeling of seeing Batman on his knees, eating your pussy like it is his last meat to get a delicious taste from. Yes, every time he fucked you, you felt wonderful but this, this was beyond. This was something else. Something gave you a superior feeling, making a fact hit your face; you were Batman’s one and only. The one he would give not the whole world but also his proud away.

As his tongue began to hit your delicate spots again and again, you screamed his name again, “Bats!” Breaths were no longer you concern. You felt paradise. “I –“ You couldn’t speak as his third finger joined to others, leaving no empty space.

“Ah –“

All you could do was moan in delight as all the burning sensations rushed through your body. Besides the wonderful pleasure of feeling him so close after so long, nor you or him could expect you to be able to do anything else rather than moaning because of his fingers’ and tongue’s deft moves. You found yourself in a stinging feeling, standing in front of the night and the moon that reflecting its light on your naked form and Bats’ suited one. With the shame and courage of being naked, he was soon to put out the fire that was boiling inside you, making you reach the second climax of the night. In your last moments, it had never occurred to you to make a sentence or ask his permission to cum. There was just a desire to touch his ears’ again.

With that desire, cold hands held his ears, rapid breaths were taken, and a last moan escaped from tired body, “Bats! –“

Throwing your head back to empty air, you reached your climax.

When the stars of the night find their way from the sky and fall right in front of your eyes, you were honored to have his tongue drink every drop of the cum, not wasting any of it. The man, who was called as a freak by others, was your fascinating beloved. He was the one who would make you like this, being naked in the hell of a night without questioning anything. He was the one who you would expose both your body and soul. He was the Batman. He was your lover.

“B.”

He cleaned his mouth, stood up, showed his huge posture like he wasn’t kneeling and eating your pussy just now.

You smiled, hugging him with your naked body you felt his suit fully but beyond that, you felt his fast beating heart. He was a human after all. He felt everything like you did.

The smile became bigger, “I am glad you are back.” You said, “I love you.”

A few minutes later, he hugged you back, “Yeah.” This was his way to say ‘I love you too’. Even if you wanted to hear it you even agreed to that.

“C’mon,” He said, finding your blanket which you would bring to roof for coldness of every other night. As he wrapped your body with the blanket, warmness felt inside too. “Let’s go home.”

You wanted to say that he was the home but you decided not to. Maybe another night, you thought as both of you made your way to his bat mobile, not saying a word but feeling wonderful.

After all, you were his and he was your beloved.

But it was time for Bruce Wayne to complete the night. Batman would wait his turn any other time.

. . .

taglist: @erensslut <3

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captainsophiestark · 22 days

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March 2024 Fic Recs

Here's all the awesome fic I got to check out in the month of March! It was a busy one, but I loved everything I managed to check out! Go give these wonderful writers some love!

ACOTAR

Rhysand x Reader

Solemn Vows by @writeroutoftime

joined by the inner circle, you and rhys get to have your mating ceremony, publicly declaring your love to your family

Cassian x Reader

pawns in your game part 1 & part 2 by @writeroutoftime

when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

Agent Carter

No x Reader

Nothing Fancy, Nothing Much by @glorious-spoon

Rose Roberts takes a job in L.A., and eventually finds her feet and her place in the world.

#sophie reads #fic recs #acotar fic rec #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #agent carter fic rec #rose roberts #michael carter #agent carter

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swan-of-sunrise · 8 months

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The Armistice (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: During a standard evening of work focusing on their secret investigation into Michael Carter’s file, Jack and (Y/N) clash before ultimately coming to a mutual understanding (Chapter 5 of Specs and the Flyboy in Jack’s POV)

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Originally, I only intended on rewriting a portion of Chapter 5 but I got a little carried away and rewrote the entire thing from Jack’s POV lol to be fair, this chapter is such an interesting turning point for both characters, so I really couldn’t resist! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Armistice October 1947 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

With an exaggerated yawn, Jack stretched the aching muscles in his arms and glanced down at his wristwatch. “Hey, Sousa, I think I’m gonna head out a few minutes early.”

Daniel looked up from the paperwork he was signing with a small knowing smile. “On a Friday? Let me guess, you finally decided to make the most of your time in Los Angeles and by some strange miracle snagged yourself a date?”

“Nope,” Jack replied, standing and crossing the chief’s office to retrieve his jacket from the corner coat rack. “Today just took a lot out of me and I’m lookin’ forward to having a nice, long nap out by Stark’s pool.”

“Yeah, sitting around doing nothin’ but whining about our new codebreaker must’ve really exhausted you.” The chief’s voice was dripping with sarcasm but his dark eyes glimmered with amusement as he gave him a small wave. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday, Thompson.”

After wishing Daniel a good weekend, Jack walked out of the chief’s office and through the bullpen as the other agents prepared to leave; he passed by Agent (Y/L/N)’s overly-cluttered desk and bit back a smirk of amusement at the sight of the codebreaker struggling to shove a handful of files into her disorganized briefcase, taking a small amount of pleasure in her annoyance before their scheduled meeting and the closeness they’d be forced to endure for the next several hours. He left the Auerbach Theatrical Agency and strolled down the street to lean against a lamppost and wait for his reluctant partner to emerge. When she finally did, he heaved a sigh of exasperation when he saw how stiff her posture was and the way her fingers of her free hand twitched against her skirt as she furtively glanced around at the other pedestrians on the sidewalk; (Y/L/N) may be a decent codebreaker but she’s got a lot to learn about espionage, he thought to himself, shaking his head and waiting for her to get into her emerald-green Fleetmaster before pushing himself off the lamppost.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy.” Jack smirked as he got into the passenger seat of her car and adjusted his fedora. “You fidget too much.”

Predictably, (Y/N) pursed her lips and rolled her eyes in annoyance at his critique. “Hello to you too, Flyboy. I think I’m closer to cracking the first code on page three, but I need to take a glance at some of my translation journals; Peggy kept stopping by my desk to talk, so I didn’t get as much done as I wanted to today.” She pulled away from the curb and began driving down the bustling Los Angeles street. “Did you find anything on Michael yet?”

“While Sousa was out getting lunch, I finally got into contact with my buddy Jeff in D.C. and he confirmed that both the British Armed Forces and the SOE listed him as MIA. I also got those files I requested last week from London, so we can take a look at ‘em over dinner.” He felt a surge of annoyance as he thought about the diner they’d been forced to conduct their secret investigation out of and before he could stop himself, he huffed out an agitated breath and demanded, “Explain to me again why we can’t do all this back at your place?”

“Because, my building manager doesn’t allow men on the premises. And we can’t do it at yours because Jarvis’ll tell Peg about it in a heartbeat, so we’ll just have to make-do with the diner until we find a new place.”

While (Y/N) pointedly ignored him in favor of focusing on the road ahead, Jack’s jaw clenched in agitation and kept himself occupied with one of the files, skimming over Michael Carter’s brief but distinguished service record and biting his lip as he pondered the typed ‘MIA’ notice at the bottom of the last page. They parked down the street from her apartment building and walked down the sidewalk together to the diner but when they reached the front entrance, there was a sign posted onto the door stating that they were closed due to a family emergency.

“Dammit,” Jack swore to himself and turned to face (Y/N) with his hands on his hips. “What now?”

The codebreaker looked about as exasperated as Jack felt, exhaling through her nose and tapping the toe of her high-heel against the pavement in indecision before releasing an agitated sigh. “All right, we’ll go to my place but you need to follow my instructions to the letter. If we get caught, I’ll be homeless and your ass’ll be grass, got it?”

Jack flashed her an amused smirk, thoroughly entertained by the situation unfolding before them. “Understood. Do you have a plan or do I need to come up with one myself?”

“No, it’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself or anything,” (Y/N) shot back and his jaw clenched tight in annoyance. “There’s a fire escape on the side of my apartment building, climb up to the second story and open the window but be careful, the hinges are a little rusty. Once you’re in, don’t make any sound until I can switch on my radio to mask our voices and don’t touch anything.”

After promising to follow her lead, Jack made his way around the back of the apartment building and checked to make sure that no one was watching before climbing up the rickety fire escape; she just has to live in a women-only apartment building, he inwardly grumbled as he crouched down and nudged the second-story window open, I feel like a goddamn creep. He was halfway into (Y/N)’s apartment when the door unlocked and the codebreaker stepped through the doorway, but the both of them froze when they heard the muffled voice of an older woman calling (Y/N)’s last name.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!”

(Y/N) shot Jack a panicked look but kicked into action after he gestured for her to hurry up, hastily stepping back out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her; Jack, taking advantage of the brief distraction, jumped into the apartment and crossed the room in three long strides to the wardrobe. “Jesus, this is low even for you…” Jack grumbled to himself before climbing up into the wardrobe and closing the door, a light blush reluctantly blossoming across his face when he realized that several pastel-colored satin nightgowns were brushing up against his arm. Awkwardly pushing the hangars further down the wardrobe’s bar, Jack forced himself to pay attention to the conversation happening out in the hallway.

“Yes, Mrs. Espinoza?”

“You’re home early, Miss (Y/L/N). Are you alone?”

“Of course, Mrs. Espinoza; I’m not feeling too well, so they sent me home a couple of hours early. I didn’t want Mr. Auerbach seeing me look so peaky.” Jack’s brows shot up in surprise as she continued. “He deserves to have a secretary who looks her best, wouldn’t you say?”

Mrs. Espinoza fell right into (Y/N)’s cleverly-concocted trap, the tone of her voice shifting from suspicion to motherly concern in an instant. “Yes, of course, dear! You go right to bed, you hear me?”

When Jack was sure that the landlady had walked away and heard (Y/N) reenter her apartment, he stepped out of the wardrobe and smirked at the frazzled expression on the codebreaker’s face. “I can’t believe she bought that load of crap; ‘He deserves to have a secretary who looks her best’?”

(Y/N) reluctantly smiled at his near-perfect imitation of her voice. “She’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the bunch, is she? But she’s a hell of a force to be reckoned with if she catches you.” After double checking that the door was locked, she crossed the small living room and switched on the radio, tuning it until she landed on a lively swing number and cranking the volume up. “That should mask our voices, but try not to make too much noise.”

Jack joined her at the small kitchen table and the pair quickly dove into their work; (Y/N)’s many codebooks were spread out before her and the tip of her pencil scribbled across the notepad as she worked through the codes written in Michael Carter’s original file, her reading glasses slipping down her nose and her brow furrowed in deep concentration, and Jack skimmed through the stack of files he’d requested from London. He occasionally read certain sections of the files aloud not just for the codebreaker’s benefit, but to distract himself from the feeling of awkwardness that started to grow the moment he realized that it was the first time they’d been completely alone with one another since their volatile fight several weeks back. Although they’d both said some horrible things to one another, even he had to admit that he might’ve crossed the line one or two times; in an ironic twist of fate, however, Jack discovered as their evening progressed that the only other thing that helped him keep his mind off the unresolved tension was nitpicking the messy state of his reluctant partner’s apartment.

“Geez, they didn’t teach you SSR operatives how to clean during the war?” Jack whistled low as he surveyed the cluttered coffee table, the clothes flung haphazardly over the changing screen in the corner and the dirty dishes piled high in the kitchen sink, and he quietly snickered when (Y/N) clenched her jaw but remained silent as she diligently worked through another code. “The Navy would’ve chewed you guys up before you could say ‘specs.’” The grumbling of his own stomach spurred him to leave the disorderly table and look for something to eat in the kitchen; unfortunately, the refrigerator was empty save for a half-empty bottle of milk and a block of butter. “You got any food in this joint?”

“Nothing that’s cooked; my neighbor down the hall sometimes comes in and cooks dinners for the week in exchange for hair styling lessons, but she’s been busy visiting her grandfather in the hospital.” Jack smirked in triumph as he closed the refrigerator door and met (Y/N)’s confused gaze across the room. “What?”

“Finally, something I can do that you can’t, Specs.” Chuckling, Jack retrieved the ingredients he needed to make a quick spaghetti dinner from her half-stocked pantry and explained, “My ma taught me when I was a kid; she always said that the women in my life would have better things to do than slave away in the kitchen for me.”

(Y/N)’s brow arched in surprise and while Jack switched on her stove to boil a pot of water, a reluctant smile played across her lips. “…Your ma’s a smart lady.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, with (Y/N) working through the codes in Michael’s file and Jack preparing dinner with one hand while flicking through the remaining files he’d requested with the other. A part of him hated the surge of satisfaction he experienced when the codebreaker praised his cooking and finished her dinner in record time, but he couldn’t deny that it felt good to take someone as intelligent and equally-judgmental as (Y/N) by surprise; he also hated to admit that the two of them – despite their clashing personalities and general dislike of one another – worked incredibly well with one another. Who’da thought that the dame who threatened to shoot me not too long ago would voluntarily sneak me into her apartment and sit down for a spaghetti dinner, Jack thought with an inward snicker as he flipped over the page of the file he was reading through.

“I’ve got it!”

At (Y/N)’s exclamation, Jack quickly looked up to see the codebreaker’s triumphant grin and the scribble-filled sheet of paper in her hand. “You cracked it?”

“The first code’s a name and address! Aaron Templeton, 68452 Ashbury Way, Los Angeles, California.” She removed her reading glasses and while she was busy considering the decoded address, she didn’t notice Jack standing and donning his jacket. “That’s near the docks, so it’s probably a warehouse. Maybe there’s a-wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go check out that address,” Jack nonchalantly replied as he scooped up his files.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it!” In an instant, the codebreaker was standing between him and the open window with her arms tightly crossed over her chest. “I’m going with you.”

Jack let out a dismissive snort. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!” Impatient, Jack tried to move past her but she quickly blocked his way again. “You seriously think it’s a good idea to go in there without backup?”

“’Course not, but I’d rather go in without backup than have you getting in my way and screwing everything up.”

The codebreaker’s (Y/E/C) eyes narrowed in anger. “Need I remind you that I’ve also been trained to go on missions?”

“So has Samberly, what’s your point?”

“My point is that I can help you, but you’re too much of a stubborn ass to admit that I’m anything more than a codebreaker!”

A sudden knock on the apartment door cut through the tension and both Jack and (Y/N) blanched when a woman’s voice called out, “You okay, (Y/N)? I thought I heard voices!”

“I-I was just listening to a radio program, Shelly, I’m sorry if the noise disturbed you!” (Y/N) lied, wincing at the overly-cheerful tone present in her voice and shooting Jack a glare when he stifled an exasperated sigh. “I’ll be sure to turn it down!”

Both waited with bated breath for the woman to reply. “Okay!”

When her footsteps faded away as she walked down the hall to her own apartment, (Y/N) turned back to face Jack with her jaw set in stubborn determination. “Like it or not, Flyboy, I’m the best and only help you’ve got. If you don’t want it, then good luck finding another codebreaker.”

Jack gritted his teeth in irritation as the truth of her words started to set in. He’d spent weeks trying to find someone who could decode Michael Carter’s secret messages until he finally broke down and was forced to approach (Y/N); as much as she annoyed the living daylights out of him, her expertise in the field of codebreaking was simply unparalleled and finding a codebreaker as skilled as her would be hell for him. Heaving a displeased sigh, Jack eventually gave her a sharp nod. “Fine. You can come but you follow my lead, got it?”

The codebreaker let out a snort of derision and raised her hand up to her temple to give him a sarcastic salute. “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Junior Grade, sir.”

“Okay then, smart-ass, let’s get going…” Pushing past her, Jack opened the apartment window and stepped out onto fire escape, but his frown deepened when he realized that (Y/N) was following him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I gave Mrs. Espinoza that cockamamie story about being sick, remember? I can’t just waltz down there and pretend to suddenly feel better, now, can I?” After slipping her coat on, (Y/N) thrust her clutch purse into Jack’s arms and hiked her skirt up so that she could climb out onto the fire escape, unintentionally giving him a good look at her stocking-clad legs and causing him to hastily look away before she could catch a glimpse of his appreciative expression. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her skirt and took her clutch back from him before giving him an expectant look. “You wanted to lead the way, so lead the way.”

Jack pursed his lips and threw her a glare as he started to climb down the rickety fire escape. This is gonna be a long goddamn night, he inwardly grumbled to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive across downtown to the docks was relatively quiet, with Jack observing the glitzy nightlife going on at the various restaurants, bars and dancing clubs they passed by and (Y/N) focusing on navigating the hectic and never-ending Los Angeles traffic. She parked the emerald-green Fleetmaster a handful of blocks away from the address she’d decoded and after ensuring that their weapons were loaded, they got out and traveled the rest of the way on foot; the dimly-lit streets were deserted, but Jack remained on edge just in case they were unknowingly walking into some sort of lair or trap, his eyes scanning the rooftops and windows of the buildings surrounding them for any sharpshooters.

“Do you respect Peggy Carter?”

Jack halted and looked over at (Y/N) in perplexity. “Yeah? Why’re you asking?”

“Humor me for a moment, please.” He watched in growing confusion as the codebreaker squared her shoulders and continued. “Since our respect for Peggy Carter is the one thing we can agree on, I propose a truce. We work on this case as partners, equal in every aspect of the investigation, and we put aside our personal gripes with one another in order to successfully solve the case for her. Once we accomplish that, you’ll return to New York and we’ll never have to see one another again for the rest of our lives.” She held her hand out for him to shake and his brows shot up in surprise. “Do we have a deal, Chief Thompson?”

Jack hesitated for a moment before giving her hand the briefest of shakes; a mutual armistice was the logical resolution to all the unresolved tension between them, and he couldn’t help but feel gratitude that he didn’t have to be the one to call for a truce first. “It’s a deal, Agent (Y/L/N).” Awkwardly clearing his throat, Jack dropped her hand and turned to look at the building directly ahead of them that bore the address his partner had decoded earlier that evening. “All the windows on the north side are boarded up, looks like the fire escapes are a little worse for wear, too. I’ll take the left, you take the right; look for some kind of entrance we can use to get in.” He glanced down at the clutch in (Y/N)’s hand and inwardly winced as he recalled a not-so-distant memory of the codebreaker pulling the gun that was hidden within it on him. “Might wanna get that gun of yours out, too.”

With his revolver clutched in his hand, Jack tiptoed along the left side of the building and his senses were on high alert for any suspicious activity nearby. A blurry shape darted across the sidewalk in front of him and caused him to raise his weapon, quickly lowering it and releasing a huff of annoyance when he realized that it was only a storm-grey cat; I’m more out of practice than I thought, Jack silently admitted as he squared his shoulders and rounded the corner to see (Y/N) standing near a partially ajar door. He reached the codebreaker in three long strides and raised his revolver at the ready, darting into the building as soon as she flung the door open and proceeding to check each of the building’s four floors for any potential signs of danger. “All clear,” Jack announced as he stepped out onto the first-floor landing and tucked his revolver back into his holster. “Looks like this Aaron Templeton guy’s not home.”

“In that case, we should be quick.” (Y/N) slipped her gun into her clutch and looked around the dilapidated first floor. “You take the top two floors and I’ll take the bottom two; if you find anything, just holler for me.”

Jack silently nodded before making his way back up the staircase to look for any clues; the building was comprised of rotting wood and rusted pipes that leaked steady drips of dirty water onto the run-down furniture, and after searching the fourth floor, he started to wonder if the coded address had less meaning than they both attached to it. He stepped into one of the third-floor bedrooms, wrinkling his nose at the mold-coated mattress and the smell of dank mildew wafting up from the drenched carpet, but a crate sitting on the desk by the boarded-up window gave him pause and he cautiously approached it. It looked like any number of standard wooden crates, but Jack frowned when he spotted the familiar symbol – a rearing house surrounded by vines – that was neatly etched onto its lid. “Up here, (Y/L/N)!” He waited until the codebreaker appeared at the doorway before continuing. “I think I found something you might recognize.”

(Y/N) quirked a brow at that, but she carefully stepped over piles of debris to join him on the other side of the room; a look of recognition crossed her features as she studied the symbol. “The bank robbery; this was the symbol that was etched onto that device we took custody of a few weeks back. Chief Sousa closed the case the other day, said there was a lack of evidence and credible witnesses to justify keeping it open.” The codebreaker glanced back up at him. “You don’t think…?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jack pointed to the scrap of paper that sat on the desk beside the empty crate. “The time and date of the robbery, along with the bank’s street address. It looks like we might’ve just found the home of one of our bank robbers.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “In that case, we need to take another look at that case and we need someone to re-examine the device.” Her finger gently traced the etching as she sighed, masking the troubled look in her (Y/E/C) eyes with a forced smile. “Unfortunately, I have just the man in mind…”

Recalling what he’d seen in the codebreaker’s file, Jack groaned and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Goddammit. Just once, I’d like to work a case without the involvement of Howard Stark.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: It’s fun writing Asshole Jack Thompson knowing where he ends up in terms of Specs lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot! Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=483950cfa991442a

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @hufflefluffy @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @fannyspammy @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @nincompoopydoo @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss @crowleysqueenofhell @groovyqueer @xxruinaxxmcu

#tales from the ssr #specs and the flyboy #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson x f!reader #jack thompson #chief thompson #peggy carter #agent carter #daniel sousa #chief sousa #howard stark #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #rose roberts #michael carter #strategic scientific reserve #marvel cinematic universe

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thesunisatangerine · 5 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part nine

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: mentions of grief, suggestive material, hurt/comfort

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 6.6k

words in italics: whatever language you like

Before this misunderstanding could get any bigger, you stepped in quickly.

“Alexia, this is Elisa, my daughter and that’s my brother’s husband, Robert. Elisa, Robert, this is Alexia.”

At that, Alexia’s gaze softened but when she met your eyes, questions swam in those hazel pools, ones that you sensed concerned your daughter. You gave Alexia a tight-lipped smile in answer–this was neither the time nor place to talk about something like that.

“Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you both,” Alexia spoke in English.

She walked closer to the stands to where Robert stood and reached out a hand for him to shake. Robert–who finally got some of his color back after Alexia stopped leering at him–regarded Alexia’s hand with an uneasy look like it was something dangerous before he eventually shook it. Then Alexia turned to Elisa and offered her a closed fist while your daughter only gawked at Alexia, obviously starstruck. “And it’s nice to meet you, too, Elisa.”

Elisa remained still and unusually quiet so you coaxed softly, “ladybug?”

That seemed to snap Elisa out from her starstruck stupor and as she came back to herself, her eyes darted to you. You smiled at her, encouraging, then you tilted your head at Alexia’s direction. Slowly, Elisa bumped her fist against Alexia’s, cheeks reddening immediately as she scurried off behind Robert right after, peeking through the gap between her uncle’s hip and arm to look at Alexia shyly.

“Do you want me to sign your shirt?”

Elisa nodded. Robert passed the shirt to Alexia, who signed it, before she passed it back to Robert.

“Thank you,” came Elisa’s bashful gratitude.

When your eyes flitted back to Alexia’s face, you found her brows tilted upwards which allowed the stadium lights to brighten her already fair eyes. She looked on at Elisa’s timid display with warmth and the sight of such softness in her demeanour tugged at your heartstring.

Without tearing her attention away from Elisa, Alexia said through a small smile, “she’s adorable, no?”

“She’s a little shy but she’s actually a big fan of yours. You should see her practicing your moves–”

“Mom…” Elisa whined, stopping you from embarrassing her further. You sent her an apologetic smile before you mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to her.

“Oh, you play football? How old are you?” Alexia asked softly.

After a moment of silence, you took the helm when you noticed Elisa wasn’t going to answer. Her reaction to Alexia was completely understandable. Alexia, despite being one of the warmest people you knew, could easily intimidate some with her presence due to her reserved and stoic nature. Her gaze–especially for the ones who were new to meet her–could be so intense and disarming that it was hard not to look away or, in this case, shy away from her.

“She turned twelve last February. And yes, she’s actually enrolled in a Barça Academy located near our city.”

Alexia’s brows rose with interest. She regarded Elisa again as she spoke, switching to Spanish this time, with clear approval in her tone. “So she has Blaugrana in her blood. What position does she play?”

“Barça is by far her favorite club and it doesn’t help that you play in it. And she plays forward.” You answered in the same tongue.

Alexia hummed, the corner of her lips quirking up. You knew that look so when she turned back to you, you raised a brow at her.

“What? Disappointed she doesn’t play midfield like you?”

She flashed you a sheepish half-smile and rubbed her cheek with a finger, a gesture that you still found so endearing, before she threw her hands up in false surrender. “I’m just saying! And you can’t really blame me for having a bias.”

“No, of course not. How could I hold that against you?” You said in an excessively dry tone. What you didn’t expect was for Alexia to throw her head back as laughter bubbled out from her throat in a familiar melody that tickled your ear, and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at her amusement. She looked so beautiful like this: her hair–now back to its light brown shade–untamed with the way baby strands clung to the slight dampness on her temple, and the rosy blush painted upon her cheeks and nose from the events that just occurred; she looked so carefree in this moment, in the aftermath of their victory, that the glow of her youth shone right through, unfiltered.

When your eyes flitted over to Elisa and Robert, you found them gaping at your interaction with wide eyes, looking very much unsure on what to make of it. Then you also realised Alexia’d stopped laughing and she was now looking at you with a small smile on her lips. Your cheeks warmed at the attention, at having been caught staring, so you casted your eyes down to your feet, clearing your throat as you kicked an invisible pebble.

It surprised you, the ease with which you were able to fall back in playful banter with Alexia as if the fifteen months that made strangers from the both you never existed. Alexia must’d thought the same thing because when you looked at her again, Alexia’s smile had dimmed somewhat but the warmth in her eyes never left.

“Congratulations on the win, by the way. You earned it. All of you did.” You said, indicating at the golden medal around her neck. The urge to hug her as you spoke pervaded you but you managed to brush it off.

Alexia looked down at it, her lips quirking up into a small proud smile.

“Thank you.” A pause as she regarded you. And then, “want to hold it?”

The suggestion took you aback and you were quick to dismiss her. “Oh, no, I’m good–”

Alexia, being Alexia, stepped into you space anyway, took your right hand and placed the medal on your palm. You tried not to focus too much on how her touch electrified you by focusing on how the surface of the metal cooled your skin, its weight surprisingly heavier than it looked, and you traced its intricate engravings with the pads of your fingers, admiring the details.

“Can we talk?” Alexia said in a low voice that only the both of you would be able to hear. She was standing less than an arm’s length away from you–when did she get so close?–and the softness you found in her hazel eyes when you gazed up at her made you want to reach out and brush your thumb over the skin beneath them.

At your silence Alexia touched your right wrist and you felt her thumb grazed ove the bracelet she gave you. Her gaze was magnetic and you were powerless against her pull.

You began, “I–”

“Alexia! Come on, we have to go!” Both of your heads turned to the voice. It was Misa who was waving Alexia over to where their other teammates were gathering. Alexia gave Misa a gesture to wait and she looked back at you again but with desperation now in her eyes.

“Go. I’ll be in Barcelona for a week starting next Thursday. We can talk sometime then?”

Alexia nodded, gave you a small smile before she turned to walk away. She startled you when she faced you again and before you knew it, her arms were wrapped around your shoulders.

“Same place?” She whispered in your ear.

You snaked your arms around her waist.

“You know where to find me.”

So it was then on this late, warm Friday evening in Barcelona the week after the Olympics final, you found yourself opening the door to Alexia.

You had agreed to meet the next day for lunch so it was more than a surprise to you to find her under the warm glow of the porch light right then. And before a word could even leave your mouth to voice your confusion, Alexia strode into your space, crowding you until your back hit the cool surface of the wall next to the door as it swung close.

Alexia was in front of you now, the distance between you so sparse that you could feel the heat that emanated from her body. You stared up at her, breathless when you were finally able to speak, “Alexia–”

“Are you seeing someone right now?” Her tone was even though the crease in her brows and the fervid depth in her eyes made you shiver.

“Wait, what are–”

“Just answer me!”

“No! Why–”

Before you knew it, her hand cradled your jaw as she brought her lips to yours, and the only thing you could do was gasp from the sudden heat of it all. It was filled with such ardour, Alexia’s kiss, that each movement of her lips threatened to both destroy and mend you again, each pull as devastating and as sweet as the last. But the sweetness didn’t last long; not after you felt the warmth against your cheeks and tasted salt on your tongue.

Alexia was crying.

She was aching, you knew it–could feel it in the slight quiver of her lips, in the frantic way with which her fingers tangled in your hair. And from her pain came yours, unfurling from your heart, into your throat, longing–reaching–to comfort and be soothed by her, your almost lover. Though it hurt, it made your teeth ache with the bittersweetness of it all because here she was breathing the same air as you, sharing the same heat as her lips melted with yours, and, god, how it felt like coming home–like the first breath once you breached the surface after being submerged for so long.

Was this what it felt like to be exhumed? Was this what life tasted like?

The kiss was slow and deep, the way only two almost lovers knew how to; the both of you took your time mapping each other’s lips, learning how to move in the same rhythm again. It was familiar but the tenderness–that gentle ardour–was above all else amplified, warming your flesh and blood to a delicate simmer.

You sighed against Alexia’s lips as you pressed your body further into her, and in response she to you, and you relished how in spite of the strength that rested beneath the firmness of her self, everything about her remained, oh, so soft. And it was this want for more closeness that prompted you to tighten the grip around her hand that cupped your jaw, an unspoken plea for her to not let go–to not let you go.

How had you gone on for so long without her touch?

A familiar scream ruptured the silence, shattering the moment instantly.

It was automatic and immediate your reaction to it: you tore yourself from Alexia’s embrace and rushed towards Elisa’s bedroom, ignoring the way your vision blurred from the sudden exertion, your lungs protested as you hurried up the stairs. You were already expecting it but like all the times you were faced with it, your heart broke all the same at the sight of Elisa sitting up by the headboard of her bed, spine crooked as she curled in on herself, head lowered to the top of her knees while her hands pressed against her ears. Upon your intrusion, she lifted her head to reveal wide eyes that darted to you, frantic at first, but the apprehension in them dimmed when she saw you.

You tried to compose yourself as you approached her slowly, before you placed yourself just by the edge of her bed.

Gently, you called out, “ladybug?”

Not a second later did Elisa throw herself into your embrace and immediately hid her face in the crook of your neck, her hands clawing and gripping at the fabric of your shirt while her sobs made rattles from her bones. All of her self was tense, taught and coiled, her pain’s physical manifestation–all the intangible grief violently wrought into existence.

Elisa clung to you as she cried and you could do nothing in the moment but offer comfort through your embrace, hugging her just as tight, brushing back her hair–consoling–as you began a common lullaby in her mother tongue, rocking her to its gentle rhythm in the hopes that it could salve the wounds of her past even a little.

In her own time, Elisa emerged from the throes of her grief, her grip on your soaked shirt loosened, her sobs now reduced to hiccups and sniffles. You carded your fingers through her damp hair and wiped the sweat that lined her forehead.

As softly as you could, you whispered, “want to talk about it, ladybug?”

Elisa didn’t answer as she seemed to gather herself, gnawing on her lower lips, brows creased in a pained frown. You were about to remind her that she didn’t have to when she answered in a voice so small that made the rawness in it all the more pronounced.

“I saw Mother’s… I saw her dead beside me again.” She cuddled closer to you before she continued, “it’s always been her but when I looked this time I–”

Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, they fell when she squeezed them shut, and your heart broke a little more. You were quick to hug her tighter, pressing a kiss on the top of her head to console her. Elisa sniffled then she continued, “this time I–I saw you instead. I saw you dead.”

Elisa whimpered and she clung to you again.

“Oh, ladybug. That must have been difficult to see.” You hugged her tighter. “Were you scared?”

Nod.

“What were you scared of?”

Silence.

“I was scared because I thought I was alone again. I was scared you left me, too.”

Her answer made you pause and you regarded her, your worry now twofold.

“What else do you feel, Elisa?”

“I don’t know,” Elisa shrugged. She pressed a fist to her chest, “but it hurts right here. I hate it. I want it to disappear. Why does it still hurt so much?”

The state of her pained you enough as it was but how much more agonising this must be for Elisa? So you pressed your temple on her head as you began, soft but firm when the words passed through your lips.

“It aches so it’s not surprising you want it to go away. And you hate it because it stays with you. And it hurts because you’re still grieving, Elisa. A year may feel like a long time but what happened to you is not an easy thing to move on from. You’re still trying to heal.”

“If there is part of you that’s telling you it’s your fault your family died, I want you to remember that it isn’t. It isn’t your fault. You were so loved, Elisa, and you loved them just as much. And you still are loved.”

“I won’t leave you. As long as we’re here–your Uncle Derek, Uncle Robert, Nana, and I–as long as you want us to be, we’ll be your family and we love you. And death might come for all of us, and it is scary, terrifying and painful most times, but our love will never fade. The love given to you and the love that made you, they will never leave you, Elisa. Love comes and goes, and it may change its form, but it is never lost. You’re right here with me and you’re safe, and I love you. You’re never alone, ladybug, don’t you ever forget that.”

Elisa turned her head to look up at you and in the warm glow of her nightlight, you saw her chin quiver. “Promise you’ll never leave me?”

“As long as I breathe, I promise.”

You pressed a kiss on the top of her head, on her temple, then on her forehead before you hugged her again. Elisa sagged in your embrace as a watery sigh escaped her lips, and though she sniffled, she shed no more tears.

“I love you, too, Mom.”

In response, you kissed her forehead.

“How are you feeling now, ladybug?”

“A lot better, thank you.”

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Water, please?”

“Okay. Do you want to come with me downstairs or are you alright with me going for a bit?”

Elisa thought about it before she said, “I’ll be alright here.”

You smiled at your daughter, half encouraging and more than proud, as your chest filled with warmth at her display of bravery. You stood, grabbed a fresh shirt from her closet and placed it on her lap so she could change out of her damp one. “Okay. How about you change into this while I’m gone, hmm? I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and you darted out of the room but not after you placed another kiss on top of her head and squeezed her knee for reassurance. So engrossed were you in your aim that you nearly ran into Alexia who was just standing off to the side of the doorway, an unopened bottle of water in hand. As soon as she saw you, she offered it to you without a word with a soft look in her eyes made warmer by the dim, yellow glow of the wall lamp beside her head. It was a simple gesture but your heart expanded from the thought behind it, so much so that you nearly cried when you took the bottle from her.

“Is there anything else you need?” Alexia whispered as she stepped into your space, brushing the back of her hand over your cheek gently. You leant into the comfort of her touch and sighed, before you shook your head in answer.

“This is more than enough, thank you.” You met Alexia’s gaze one more time before you knocked on Elisa’s door and slipped back into it upon her consent. Once inside, you opened the bottle and gave it to Elisa and as she sipped from it, you ventured into her closet again to grab a small towel to dry her sweat with.

“How do you feel, ladybug?” You asked as you ran the towel over her face and the back of her neck.

“Sleepy,” she said with a small smile. You returned it in kind.

“Do you want to try going back to sleep? I’ll stay here if you want.”

Elisa yawned her agreement as she nodded so you tucked her in. Then you reclined against her headboard and began a lullaby, gently dragging the back of your finger in the space between her eyes until her eyelids fluttered close before her breathing deepened and eventually evened out. You remained there until you were certain Elisa had fallen asleep completely before you slipped back out, making sure to leave a slight gap between the door and the frame just in case Elisa woke up again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you found Alexia still patiently waiting out in the hall, who pushed herself from the wall she was leaning on upon seeing you.

“Is she okay?” She asked softly, looking over your shoulder at Elisa’s door, concern apparent in her tone and the crease between her brows.

“She’s… she’ll get there. She’s been through a lot for someone so young but she’s getting better.” It was getting frequent again, you noted with more than a hint of worry, Elisa’s recurring nightmares about the horrors she’d witnessed. You knew you needed to talk to Elisa about her therapy and if she’d be inclined to take more sessions to unpack this because there was only so much you could do to help her.

“What happened to her?”

You looked at Alexia at that, unable to answer her–had no desire to if you were being honest. How could you come up with the words to explain it especially when doing so would lead to questions about what happened to you? And that was something you truly didn’t want to, or even knew how to, talk about.

Alexia must had found something in your eyes because she just nodded at your reticence and casted her gaze down. You grazed your knuckles over the back of her hand, partly in appreciation for her respect and partly for her to follow you, while you stepped past her to the stairs down to the living room, Alexia’s footsteps not too far behind you.

The both of you entered the living room in silence, the tension from what transpired between the two of you upon Alexia’s arrival and the weight of what you were about to talk about made the air thick for breathing.

With crossed arms you settled on the wingback chair on the far side of the coffee table while Alexia situated herself on the other at the opposite side, leaving the couch unoccupied; the memories in it far too intimate for two people who’d grown apart.

During this reprieve, you finally allowed yourself the luxury to take Alexia in. You didn’t really get the chance to, it had all been a blur the moment she strode through the door, but now your eyes roamed over her freely.

She had a pair of low rise denims on, a leather jacket over a white shirt that revealed a strip of her stomach while her loose, light brown hair framed her face. Even when sitting down, her character remained undiminished especially with the way she sat with her legs parted, one hand hanging over the chair’s arm while the other was on her chin, fingers splayed over her lips as she regarded you quietly in a fixing gaze that left you feeling exposed–vulnerable.

Alexia brushed her lower lip with her fingers as she sank further against the upholstered back of the chair, tilting her chin up slightly as she kept her eyes trained at you. Her movement caused the warm glow of the light to touch her lips, drawing your attention to them, and you noted how they still glistened from the sheen of your lip balm from when she’d kissed you before, and the reminder made you burn, unpleasant in the way it ached, a bittersweet mixture of your immense desire and longing for the woman before you. It was intentional the way she moved; you knew it from the way Alexia’s eyes challenged you to speak up but you couldn’t quite find the words to say–you didn’t dare to.

“Are they real?” Came the question.

It was low and even, how Alexia posed it, but the abruptness with which the silence was broken made you flinch. That didn’t go unnoticed by Alexia it seemed because her gaze immediately softened.

“Are what real?”

“What you wrote in those notes you left me. Are they?”

The silence that settled in the space between you pressed against your chest, made even heavier with the weight in Alexia’s eyes. You tore your gaze away from her and you didn’t dare look back up.

“Look at me and tell me those didn’t mean a thing and I’ll leave.” ‘Just like you left me’, you heard the words Alexia left unspoken and then she continued, “I’ll leave and I won’t bother you again.”

She was serious. You knew if you lied and told her otherwise, she’d keep her word; she’d be out of your life completely. Were you willing to run? Were you ready to live a life without her for good?

Still without meeting her eyes you voiced barely above a whisper, “I… I can’t.”

Then you heard Alexia draw a breath, long and deep, followed by the unmistakable rustle of clothes before the air stilled once more. Not a moment later though a choked sound broke the quiet and immediately, your head whipped to the sound and found Alexia now bent forward, elbows resting on the top of her knees, her head bowed into the cradle of her open palms while her hair formed a curtain around her face.

“‘What’s happening to me? I’ve not know desire like this–like how it is with you. How, then, can I go on without you now that I found you?’” Each word came out strained as her breath stuttered and yours, too, hitched at what Alexia just recited. Then she lifted her head up a fraction but it was enough for you to see the undisguised pain reflected in those eyes and the sight of them made yours burn.

“You didn’t even give me a chance. You wrote and left those words to me but what was I supposed to do with them? What was I meant to do?”

A pause.

“I thought I knew what feeling lost was like. My ACL taught me that and when my father–” Alexia screwed her eyes shut as she drew in a heavy breath. She continued after a moment, “but after you went away, I felt lost again. I didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know how or what to feel. All I knew was I was mad at you for leaving, for what you said to me, for not responding… I was hurt. And I felt so empty that I didn’t look through that damn bag you left me.”

“But I missed you. God, I missed you, so I opened it and what did I find? Your fucking notes.” Alexia laughed, flat and void of any warmth, and she shook her head as if in disbelief, digging the heels of her palms into her sockets before looking back at you with raw eyes. “‘With every kiss, every touch, I become more yours. If you ask me to, I will surrender myself to you.’ If you truly meant that, why did you leave?”

“Won’t you even tell me why?” Alexia repeated, now pleading.

“I–” You began but the words caught in your throat as you turned her question over in her head because why, why did you leave?

“I was… I was afraid.” You admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Afraid of what?”

“To hear that I meant nothing to you, to know I felt more for you than you did for me. I was just one of your girls, right?” You laughed bitterly, hating the way tears immediately fell down your cheeks, as you looked over Alexia’s shoulder, unable to look her in the eye as you spoke. You were weak enough as it was, so bare that one word from her could make you bleed if she wanted to.

“I couldn’t bear to hear that from you so I left. And perhaps it was cruel of me to leave those notes behind but I didn’t want to take them with me. I didn’t want the reminder of what we had and what we could’ve been. And I guess, deep down, I just wanted you to know how you made me feel because even if it ended, even if it meant nothing to you, that doesn’t change the fact that you made me happy.”

“‘Nothing?’ What do you mean–” Confusion first swam in her hazel eyes but her eyes suddenly widened. “That day… you were there?”

You hastily wiped your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yes.”

“Oh my god,” Alexia whispered as she lowered her head even further, fingers digging into her scalp as she shook her head. You heard her mutter something in Catalan that you couldn’t quite understand, barely catching the familiar Spanish words for ‘kill’ and ‘two’ from whatever she said.

Then Alexia gazed up at you with fire in her eyes. “If what we had meant nothing to me, I wouldn’t be here. Whatever you heard that day, there’s no truth to it.”

“All of it? Then tell me, what did Mapi mean when she said I’m one of your girls?”

At that, Alexia opened her mouth before closing it again, then she casted her gaze aside.

Your heart dropped.

She wrung her fingers, the muscle in her jaw ticked while her frown deepened but she found the courage to look you in the eye again as she began to speak. “After I got injured, I was a wreck. It was one of the lowest points of my life. I felt like I was stuck, like my life was playing out in front of me and I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

“The world moved on but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get past it, what happened and what would come after. It was a constant one step forward, three steps back. So I… I slept around because I needed control. I was spiralling when you met me and it’s–it’s true I had others while I was with you.”

Oh, how her words branded you! Perhaps there was still a small part of you that hoped Alexia would deny it but as the words spilled from Alexia’s lips, that vision was immediately dashed and in its place bloomed anguish. Your eyes burnt as you took Alexia in, she–with her lips pressed in a thin line and the corners of them crooked downwards, brows furrowed so deep her eyes were almost covered–looked guilty and in as much pain as you upon her own admittance.

“I had others but not after the first time we had dinner together. At that point, I stopped. I stopped because I hoped… I hoped that we could be more. I still do. But it never meant nothing to me, you never meant nothing to me. I just want you to know that.”

You bit your lip as her words sank in, and your stomach dropped even further as you realised something. The falling out, it was all your fault, wasn’t it? If you’d just talked to her, none of this would’ve happened.

The silence must had lasted longer than you realised because you heard Alexia’s whispered plea, “please, say something.”

“I… I want nothing more than to be with you, Alexia. In my mind, it had always been you and instead of telling you, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t make my intentions clear and it was unfair of me to expect you to know them. I was going to–I was going to ask you to be mine that night but when I heard you say those words, I lost it.”

Tears tracked down your cheeks as you choked out, “I’m sorry. I broke us, didn’t I?”

Alexia was quick to answer.

“No, you were scared and hurting. I can’t hold that against you. And it’s not just you, it’s not like I was very vocal about what I wanted either. I should’ve told you what you meant to me, I should’ve made it clear what I wanted from this–from us.” Alexia looked into your eye with an ardent disposition that made you shiver while a small, hopeful smile graced her lips. “I still want you. If you still want me, have me.”

Her declaration moved you and this wasn’t the first time tonight that her words made your heart ache–fed fuel to the fire that was your yearning. The temptation to accept her offer was too much but you stopped yourself; the logical part of you who knew that you weren’t the same person as the one Alexia met prevented you from saying yes.

“I’m not the same person I was from before, Alexia. And I have a child. I don’t want you to trick yourself into thinking you want what comes with me just because you want me.”

“Then let me in! Let me know this version of yourself and don’t decide for me if I want or don’t want to be with you. Let me make that choice this time.” Alexia said, almost exasperated in the way she threw her hands up but desperation weighed heavier in her voice. “We don’t need to label it. You’re mine and I’m yours, isn’t that what matters?”

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

“And if it does? And now that we know what we want from each other, it’s not like how it was before.” Alexia countered easily. Then she added with a half smile, teasing. “C’mon. I thought you’re the optimistic one in this relationship?”

You couldn’t help it, you smiled at her lightness. Then you nodded.

“Okay. So, can we start over slow?”

“That sounds good.” Then Alexia grinned, mischievous with the way she brushed her thumb over her nose and how her dimple gilded the corner of her lips. “Hi, I’m Alexia. What’s your name?”

The absurdity of what she said caught you off guard, even more so the laughter that bubbled out from your throat. As your laughter faded and Alexia’s grin dimmed to a small smile, a vacuous silence settled over the both of you, a welcome reprieve from the weight and tension that filled the air moments ago. Your eyes roamed over Alexia’s figure in silent appraisal, and hers over yours, as you mapped the familiar contours of her silhouette. Then you noticed a change in her demeanour: her eyes darkened, a look you were well acquainted with fifteen months–a look that your body remembered all too well with the way your flesh burnt.

“Did you have others?” The question took you aback and you were sure that you weren’t able to hide the surprise from your face because where the hell did that come from? Still, you indulged her.

“Not in the way you think. I can’t even kiss anyone without thinking of you. It’s not fair to them if I take them on as my lover when I know I’m still hung up on you.”

“‘Still’, huh?” Alexia hummed in response and her gaze only became darker, eyes now lidded.

You scoffed at her arrogance but it lacked any real bite because it was true anyway. Your cheeks warmed at her attention and you crossed your legs, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Alexia–the way she bit her lower lip made it known to you she knew just what she was doing to you–before you casted your eyes aside, down to the floor. “Don’t be an ass about it.”

At the sound of clothes rustling, you looked back up only to find Alexia had already crossed the distance and now stood an arm’s length away. Your body, always in tune to her presence, parted your legs before you could think better of it and Alexia claimed what little space between you, her knees now against the edge of the chair.

She planted both hands on either side of your chair’s arms as she leant down, craning her neck so that you could feel the warmth of her breath against your cheek.

“I’m being serious.”

The words were whispered so close to your lips that you could feel the heat of hers as they brushed over yours.

“I tried. But you… you had others, didn’t you? I saw the photos.” You tilted your head, relished the way Alexia followed and ghosted over your lips as you did so, whispering the words against her jaw.

She shivered.

“One. Just the one before I read your notes.” And she leant in again and this time, you could almost taste her lips from how close she was to you. “She never touched me. And besides, who do you think she looked like?”

An image of the woman came to your mind. You didn’t realise it then but now her resemblance to you became apparent: the colour of her hair and the length of it, the colour of her eyes, her height. They were all similar to you.

“But you touched her.” It wasn’t a question and the silence that followed was confirmation enough. You didn’t hold that against her–couldn’t–but it hurt you still. You didn’t even know you’d teared up until Alexia swept her thumb over the corner of your eye, soft and careful; apologetic. And then a fire sparked in you, an all consuming green that prompted you to ghost your lips back to Alexia’s neck. You didn’t miss the way her pulse jumped when you left a light kiss there.

“Tell me, Ale. Did she feel better than me?”

“No,” Alexia choked out and the heat of it warmed your ear.

A kiss to the corner of her jaw. “Did she moan your name like I did?”

“No.”

You placed another kiss to the lobe of her ear before you whispered, low and cruel, and obscenely shameless.

“Did she come for you like I did?”

That did it.

Alexia took the back of your head in her hand and pulled you in for a kiss. A soft moan left your mouth–or was it from Alexia–as you surrendered to her heat, melting instantly and lips parting for her and her only. You felt her other hand creep down to the small of your back where she pulled you forward, urging you to stand up. When you did, and without breaking the kiss, Alexia manoeuvred the both of you until you felt the soft texture of the couch against the skin of your calves.

You pulled away with a gasp and before Alexia could upon her eyes, you stepped aside and pushed her just enough for her to end up on the couch, eyes flying in surprise at the sudden change of position. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but she quickly shut it when you straddled her lap, hands automatically over her jaw and neck as you sank into her lips again.

Alexia dragged her lips away from yours and you were about to sigh in disappointment until you felt her tracing the lobe of your ear with her tongue. Then she nipped along your jaw as she whispered, a smile clear in her voice, “that’s right… You like being on top.”

You shivered as her hands traced your silhouette but when you felt her hands move from your ass to the edge of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your back with clear intentions, the haze lifted immediately as apprehension filled you. The words didn’t even leave your mouth before Alexia stopped her ministrations, pulling away from your lips gently, and she opened her eyes, which revealed at first the deep desire in them, now replaced with concern as she met your gaze.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Shaking your head, you placed a slow, lingering kiss on her lips before you broke away again, breathing heavily as you rested your forehead on hers.

“I’m sorry. And no, you didn’t. It’s not that I don’t want you because I do. God, I want you so much, you don’t even know, but I’m not–I think we’re going too fast and Elisa…” You trailed off, cheeks warming.

Without another word, Alexia fixed the hem of your shirt so the strip of exposed skin was covered, and placed a tender kiss on your cheek. Then she shifted beneath you, shrugged off her leather jacket and placed it on the coffee table, before she lied down.

A gentle hand on your back urged you down on her chest and upon doing so, you sighed as a sense of peace washed over you and you found yourself sinking into her tender warmth, into the safety of her arms wrapped around your waist.

She brushed back hair from your temple and you felt the flutter of her hum against your cheek before you heard it. “Are you comfortable?”

The gesture made you ache and you feared your words would fail you if you spoke so you only nodded, nuzzling the column of her neck with your nose and placed a kiss there as a form of gratitude.

Alexia pressed her lips on top of your head and then you heard her sigh, content. “Good.”

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#i told yall last time words will be spoken so here they are finally #kept changing my mind on where to put some of the scenes/dialogues. i cut out a pretty juicy one from this part for future use (hopefully)#dead tired but i finished it yall 🥲 i dont have fresh eyes atm so extra sorry for any mistakes in grammar/prose/spelling etc.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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ohtobeleah · 11 months

Text

Roses // BF x JS x Reader

Summary: Robert Floyd can’t seem to find it in himself to hurt you the way you crave, the way you truly desire. Confiding in his more experienced, more outgoing & confidence wingman is something he’s always done. This time when Bob asks Jake Hangman Seresin for advice, he gets a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

Warning: Bob Floyd x F!reader Jake Seresin x F!reader. Smut. MMF Threesome. Cuckold Bob? Power imbalance. Male receiving oral. Female receiving oral.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: Happy Saturday Folks, please enjoy this porn without plot one shot of two of our favourite flyboys:

"Fuck—“ The delightlful sound of Bob’s near pronographic moans were something you would never get tired of hearing. The way his hands fell softly onto your hips to help you ride his throbbing length was a touch as gentle as an angels. Bob always felt good, oh so good—He was truly blessed. From the sting that always made your heart stop whenever he’d first slip in, to the way his tip would nuzzle against your sponge like cervix, to the way his shaft would throb against your velvet walls with every pleasure filled thrust.

“Baby—“ The term of endearment escaped your mouth with a sigh as you dragged one of his hands up your body, softly wrapping one of Bob's slightly calloused hand around your own neck and squeezing it for him. Bob couldn't contain the whimper he let out as you eyes hooded at the sight as his mouth remained open, a drawn out groan of absolute pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest.

“Please, make me cum baby please.” You begged as you threw your head back and whimpered to the heavens above. Your other hand dipped down to swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves as you picked up the speed, the gentle slapping of Bob’s balls hitting the curve of your ass echoed through the bedroom the two of you shared more often than not. Robert Floyds humble abode was closer to the Hard Deck, his favorite watering hole and your place of employment.

The second you let go of Bob’s hand that you’d placed around your throat, Bob dropped it as fast as he could, he let it fall to the soft curve of your hip after stopping shortly to touch the hardened bud of your sensitive nipple. Bob’s baby blue eyes trained hard on your tits as you bounced and rolled your hips above him. A goddess amongst mere mortal men.

“Ahhh—Bob, baby m’cumming! Oh fuck m’cumming I’m cumming—ooohhh—“ Your nails, long and manicured scratched at Bob’s chest as you came hard around his length, leaving red raw claw marks in their wake as you clenched around Bob’s shaft. Your pussy throbbed as you saw stars and black dots behind your eyes. Your thighs trembled on either side of Bob as he thrust his cock deeper inside you, chasing his own high after making sure you were well looked after. Forever the gentleman was Lieutenant Robert Floyd.

“Shit—shit Y/n, baby quick, I'm gonna cum—“ Bob groaned as you rolled off from straddling your broad boyfriend's hips to laying on your back with a wicked giggle. You bit your bottom lip to help hold back to lustful and ever so sinful chuckle that threatened to escape from the inner part of your soul as Bob mounted your chest—one leg thrown over you as he pumped his cock right over in face. “Ahhhh—“ He sighed as he unloaded his hot spurts of cum over your fucked out face, watching it cover you from your forehead to your chin, your tongue did its best to chase whatever he gave you.

Bob didn’t stay on top of you for very long, even if you adored the feeling of the weight of his body on top of you. It was as if he was unsure if he was hurting you—that would be Bob’s biggest fear. He settled back down onto his back with a sigh as he watched you quickly sauntered over into the en-suite. The sound of the shower turning on quickly filled the silence that lingered after you disappeared from his sight.

“Can I join?” He mumbled as he got off the bed, padding towards the bathroom to see you washing your face under the warm stream of the shower head. Suds from your face wash worked to wash away the load Bob had just plastered your face with. It mixed in with the notes of mint and cooling cucumber.

“I think you can squeeze in.” You jokingly replied as Bob stepped under the stream of warm water, watching as you washed away the suds to reveal your freshly cleaned face. He wrapped his arms around you tight before he dipped his head to connect his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. Bob hummed against your supple lips when he felt your hands dip to his ass.

“You been working out?” Bob had recently started hitting the gym a little more frequently with Hangman and Rooster. He was a cardio guy, but in the past few weeks he'd managed to bulk up just a little. Put on a few pounds that made you insanely feral. Bob Flyod looked good a couple of pounds heavier.

“You know I have.” Bob smirked, he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you against the cool tiled wall. “I’ve seen you watching from the treadmill.”

“S’good view.” You couldn't hold back the small giggled that escaped before you once again pressing your lips against his with need and want. Your tongues danced together memorising each other's mouths before Bob put you down.

“Let's get out of here—wanna taste of what dessert has to offer.”

“What does that mean?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip—Bob’s hand came down to caress your lower back as he led you back to the bed. Soaking wet. He watched you with lustful eyes as you sat down before you quickly spread your legs. With intent, Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed—his hands slowly spreading your thighs further apart. He squeezed at your supple skin, decorated nicely with stripes Bob loved to delicately and ever so gently litter with kisses.

He’s never left a mark.

“Bob—“ You breathed out heavily as Bob licked a gentle strip up your fucked out pussy, so sweet and slick. His eyes never left yours as he lapped away at the sensitive bundle of nerves you loved to play with so much. Your clit was your favourite body part. Its only purpose in your life was to bring you pleasure and pleasure you craved. “Bob—“

“You okay?” Bob stopped momentarily to ask, watching as you dropped from your elbows to your back. In the middle of pure ecstasy your hands shot up to grip the strands of light brown hair that had grown out exponentially since you’d first started dating.

“Yes yes! Just keep going—feels so fucking good.” You sighed as you rolled your hips. Feeling Bob's tongue against you yet again making you moan softly. “Don’t stop, Fuckk-“ Bob did as he was told, lapping away at your soaked pussy like he was starved, high of the taste of his girlfriend. Watching as you squirmed and moved around from each flick of his tongue. Part of you wished he’d stop you— part of you wished he’d make you stay still.

But you knew better than to wish—Bob would never be as dominant as you wanted him to be. It just wasn’t in his inherent nature. It went against everything that made Bob, Bob. He was a gentle and kind soul to the very core—a wallflower.

Settling into Bob’s side a little later on, you were now dressed and exhausted, you sighed deeply when your head fell against Bob’s exposed chest—listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you baby.” Bob kisses the top of your head.

“I love you more.” You cooed quietly as your eyes felt heavy. Tired from a massive shift at the Hard Deck that ended the sexcapades that had just wrapped with Robert Floyd. “Hey Hon?”

“Yeah?” Bob's voice was low in his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair. His nimble fingers felt oh so amazing against your scalp. Calming, soothing and above all relaxing.

“How come you’re so........gentle with me?”

“That suddenly a bad thing?” Bob chuckled as he ran his fingers down your arm to trace your forearm. “I just—I couldn’t imagine being the reason behind your pain you know?” It made you feel genuinely safe and cared for, but deep down something was telling you to have this conversation now. If you didn’t now, you might not ever work up the courage to again.

“What if I told you I wanted you to hurt me?”

“What do you mean?” Bob yawned, of course he was listening, but Bob was tired himself. “You want me to hurt you?”

“Well—you see, you remember how I tried to get you to choke me? But as soon as I moved my hand you let go? Well I want you to do that, harder—and maybe on your own accord.” Bob could physically feel the heat of your cheek on his chest and you could most definitely hear his heart racing.

“You want me to ch—choke you?” There was clear hesitancy laced in Bob's questioning as his hand stilled from the gentle rhythm he had fallen into tracing unidentifiable objects into your forearm.

“And like, maybe pull my hair, slap me around a little bit, like when I’m moving around when you eat me out maybe, stop me? Pin me down and just I don’t know Bob—use me?” You could tell maybe this was all a little too much for Bob, he was such a gentle soul with the biggest of hearts and the kindest of eyes. It wasn’t in his nature to want to be dominant.

“I uh—“ Bob tried to formulate a sentence to respond with, he wanted to make you happy and if this was what would make you happy he wanted to do anything you desired of him. But he couldn’t find the words. “I—“

“You know what?” You cooed as you looked up through your lashes to where your Boyfriend's head was resting against your pillows. “Don’t even worry hon—“ You placed a butterfly-like kiss against Bob's clean shaven cheek with a small smile that made his heart ache. “Forget I ever said something—I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Bob replied with a low tone, his voice had gotten deeper as the night progressed. “Are you sure? maybe I could uh—try?”

“It’s totally fine—everything’s perfect just the way it is.” Again you tried not to make this bigger than it really was. Bob was a great guy. He was a great partner and an even better best friend. Not wanting to make the man you loved so much, that did so much for you, uncomfortable, you dismissed the subject that wasn’t all that important anyway. Why fix something that wasn’t broken? “It’s not who you are.”

Bob’s mind was plagued with the reality of your words after you’d fallen asleep in his arms in his warm and loving embrace that night. Your gentle snores filled the room as his mind wandered, ran rampant with thoughts. Maybe it wasn't who he was—

But Robert Floyd definitely knew someone that was.

***~***~***~***~***~

Bob woke up early the next morning, knowing it was his only chance to catch Jake without a chance of being interrupted. The pair had been an unlikely duo to rent a home in North Island. If you had first asked Bob what his opinion on Jake Seresin had been when they first met a few years ago he wouldn’t have had a good word to say about the overly confident aviator. Jake’s egomaniacal personality was something that seemed to curve out over the years—soon enough Jake was just Jake to the bunch of Daggers who’d settled permanently in North Island.

And before Bob really even knew what happened he’d signed a lease with Hangman and was a pretty big fan of his Texan take on Taco Tuesday.

“Mornin.” Bob grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bob was most definitely not a morning person, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. If he didn’t need to be up for work then Bob wasn’t getting up for nobody. Jake however, he had always been an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped as he choked on his toast, not exactly expecting the pair of you up for at least another four hours minimum. “The fuck are you doing up so early? Are you sick or something?”

“I needed a coffee.” Bob grumbled, he grabbed at the coffee cup with your face on it that said ‘Bob's Coffee Cup’ on it. A birthday present you thought was incredibly funny. “And some advice—but you can’t laugh at me Jake, I swear or else I’m never talking to you again.”

“What’s up?” Jake shut his laptop begrudgingly, already missing the home interior design inspo board on Pinterest. He and Bob were in the process of making their house a humble abode. And by him and Bob Jake meant himself. He was in the middle of redoing the older than some, sturdier than most home.

“Okay so Y/n said something last night and I don’t know what to do about it.” Bob knew he’d regret this the second the words were flying out of his mouth.

“What did she say?” Jake's face was puzzled, he hadn’t seen Bob so frazzled in a while. “Robert? what did she say?”

“She wants me to be uh—rougher? With her, and I can’t wrap my head around that concept for a second to even think about how I’d do that.” Jake frowned as he watched Bob wiz around the kitchen, collecting the necessary things for his coffee and cereal.

“I’m assuming you mean in bed because—?” Jake tried to make the situation he found himself in a little more light hearted. He was fine, really, but he could tell just by the rose colour creeping itself across Bob's neck that he was almost embarrassed.

“Yes Jake— of course she meant in bed what else would she mean?” Bob caught himself before Jake could legitimately answer that question. He saw the Cheshire- like grin creep across Jake's face before he went to speak. Bob shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Actually, don't answer that.” He sighed as he sipped his coffee, warm, milky and caffeinated just how he liked it as he walked around to sit next to Jake who sat on the other side of the kitchen bench.

“So what’s the big deal? Slap her around a bit? She wants you, right? So what's stopping you?” Jake did see the big deal in all of this. He’d been with plenty of women who liked their intimacy a little of the rougher side. It wasn't that deep, not everything had to be some coded deeper meaning bullshit. Sex could be just that–sex. Kinks could be just that, kinks.

“I physically can’t do that.” Bob groaned at himself as he doubled over and placed his forehead against the kitchen countertop. “Like she tried to get me to choke her last night and I couldn’t, I bitched out and moved my hand.” Jake stifled a laugh as he sat back and tapped his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worrying WSO.

“Bob—I can see you’re already over thinking this, look, being rough between the sheets doesn’t mean you respect or love her any less?”

“I don’t wanna hurt her though? I can’t fathom being the reason behind her pain.” Jake rolled his eyes at the overbearing sensitivity of his good friend and housemate.

“Jesus Bob it’s not that deep, you could throw her through your bedroom wall and that girl would beg for more—it’s Y/n we’re talking about right?” You and Jake Seresin had a pretty good relationship. He was actually the one who introduced you to Bob. He knew Bob had been reluctant to put his best foot forward when it came to talking to pretty girls who made killer cocktails, but when Jake saw the way you smiled at Bob like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you—he knew he had to get his wingman moves out.

“Yeah but like what if I take it too far.” Bob countered. “What if she actually gets hurt? Doesn’t like what I’m doing?” Bob’s mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. This wasn't his style, the rough natured touch that is–but the worrying was. That was all Bob.

“That’s what safe words and actions are for—” Jake replied with a cheeky grin, this could be his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. “Look, do you need me to show you?” Jake smirked as Bob sat up—shooting his housemate a concerned look. “Because I could show you a thing or two.” Jake's biggest regret in recent months had been not getting to see what more you had to offer under your work uniform before he ever so kindly offered to help Bob secure the love of his life.

“Are you saying you wanna have sex with my girlfriend!!?” Bob could barely believe he even had to ask, but he wasn't all that shocked if he were to be completely honest. This was Hangman he was talking to and Jake didn't really have a hell of a lot of hard boundaries he wouldn't cross just for the plot.

“For educational purposes yeah—“ Jake teased, he took another bite of his toast as he did so. “Look I don’t really care? Watch some rough porn or something for tips, but you brought this shit to me.”

“Gosh, you really are a dick of a friend aren't you.” Bob scoffed as he pushed himself off the stool he’d been perched on. “Don't need to play the part when you are the part.” Bob couldn't help but to roll his eyes as he sipped his coffee. It was still far too early in the morning for him.

“The fuck does that mean?” Jake asked with a frown evident on his face. He’d come a long way since he first came back to TopGun a few years ago. He had friends, roots even. He wasn't the same guy. “All I did was offer to help you out, Floyd.”

“You just asked to fuck my girlfriend Jake, how much more of a douchebag can you be!”

“I said for ‘educational purposes’!” Jake wasn't going to sit here and be reprimanded by Bob just for offering his sexual services. “Look pal–I’m not the one who’s scared to fucking choke her.” Jake laughed as he got off the stool. “Honestly Bob—just do what you want at this point, slap the girl, don’t slap the girl, either way Y/n’s still gonna love you. Maybe try doing something she wants you to do and see where things go? You can only fuck up so many times.” A silence fell over the two aviators as they stood in their shared kitchen. “But either way I couldnt give more of a fuck about your sex life and the goings on or not goings on that are inevitable associated.”

“Good pep talk Hangman.” Bob hissed. He knew bringing this up to Jake was going to be a bad idea. He should have listened to his gut instinct.

“Anytime.” Jake grinned as he started walking away. Laptop in hand. He had better things to be doing on his weekend off than consoling a slightly self conscious, meek, weapons system officer.

But Bob knew that he couldn’t do this with Jake's help. He didn’t know how to give you more of what you needed and as a result he swallowed his pride and took a deep breath in.

“Wait! Jake—“ Bob held the bridge of his nose as if he was holding back a nosebleed, exhaling deeply, that’s how much he hated the words that were about to leave his mouth. “Okay, okay, for educational purposes only alright? So help me god if you cross the line and hurt her in any way I’ll—“

“Relax Robert.” Jake smirked as he walked closer to where his friend stood with slumped and deflated shoulders before he placed a reassuring hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“What, when you’re balls deep in my girlfriend? Yeah I’m sure I’ll be throwing thanks your way.”

”I meant when you actually feel comfortable giving her what she wants, but yeah you can do that too if you like.” Jake laughed as Bob whacked his chest. “Ow—!”

“That’s for being a smartass.” Bob decided on making breakfast before he went back to bed, avocado toast in hand he sauntered down the hall. Opening and closing his bedroom door quietly so as to not disturb you.

“Bob?” You mumbled at the sound of Bob bear feet padding along the carpet softly.

“Mornin’ baby—Sorry, did I wake you?” Bob asked as he leaned over your side of his bed to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“No no, I woke up a little while ago, it was kinda weird not having you next to me.” You admitted, most of the time if not all the time, you were the one waking Bob up.

“I made you breakfast.” Bob said as he sat on his side of the bed, crossing his legs before stealing a bite of the warm toast coated with smashed avocado before handing it over.

“Aww thanks you didn’t have to do that—“ You cooed as you sat up against the headboard. “Really baby, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to—“ Bob smiled. “Anyway, so you remember that conversation we had last night?” Bob sat picking at the small hairs on his chin. A nervous twitch he had that made your heart melt. He didn’t grow his facial hair out all too often, but that five o’clock shadow did something to you.

“Yeah, what about it?” It came out more of a mumble than anything else

“I talked to Jake—“ Immediately you felt your core temperature rise at the mere thought of Jaker seresin, Bob's friend and colleague, Bob's housemate, knowing anything about your sex life let alone your personal sexual fantasies.

“Bob!” You slapped at his chest, the brunt of your open palmed slap was softened by the cotton of his shirt. “How could you?”

“He’s one of my best friends! Y/n, you know I tell him everything.” Bob tried to defend his actions, you knew going into this that the Daggers were a close knit group of souls, all trauma bonded in more ways than one.

“Yeah but I thought maybe our sex life was off limits oh my gosh—“ But this, this was just a whole new level of broken boundaries.

“It usually is! I promise, I just—I needed advice about what you said you wanted me to do and Jakes always been the first person I go to for anything so it was only natural.” You never knew of a time where Bob and Jake weren’t close. You had been told of a time before you when the two couldn't have been more different from one another. But their dynamic had always reminded you of a big brother little brother-esk friendship.

“There’s absolutely nothing natural about Jake knowing I want you to choke me.” You scoffed. “This is why you made me breakfast, wasn't it?”

“If you think that’s not natural I think you’re gonna hate what I have to say next—“ Bob tried his best to laugh it off, but he knew deep down you weren't gonna go for it. Hell he hadnt gone for it at first.. “Jake said he—he said he’s um show me? How to uh—be rougher with you.”

“You’re kidding, Bob, What does that even mean!?”

“He’s gonna have sex with you and basically I’ll watch and take notes I guess.” You had to still be dreaming, this wasn’t actually a conversation you were having with your boyfriend right now was it? He didn't just say what he did. There was no possible way.

“Bob! NO! Oh my gosh no I’m not having sex with your best friend are you insane!?” You gasped as your eyebrows raised to new highs unseen on your forehead in shock. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re crazy.” You shook your head before getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Bob asked as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. “Baby?”

“Away from you psycho, trying to get me to fuck Jake? As if that was even a thing that came up in a serious conversation!? You two are seriously two of the most codependent people I’ve ever—“ As you opened the bedroom door in your fit of anger, shaking your head in disbelief Jake was there to stop you. He was there to stop you from going any further than a foot or so out into the hallway.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake's hand wrapped itself tightly around your throat. The pressure was so intense the gasp you made, made Bob stand from the bed. He was immediately worried, maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We’ve nearly seen death together sweetheart, that brings people together in ways you couldn't begin to imagine.”

“Jake–” You tried to choke out, but the way Jake gripped your throat and stepped you back into Bob's bedroom with such ease had you seeing stars.

“Did you just say harder?” He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, he applied more pressure as he walked you back, slowly and with intention behind every step. “You’re too easy Y/n.” Jake pushed you back till you were landing on the mattress you shared with Bob with a gasp and a cough. “Like an open fucking book.”

“What the hell is going on!?” You hissed as you looked between the friends who you saw most nights hanging around the pool table and being the life of any party. “Bob, this is crazy.”

“You act like you don’t want him to learn?” Jake smirked, he was already enjoying this. “C’mon Y/n, let the guy learn from the best—“ His sweats already felt constricted at the mere thought of getting to touch you the way he’d always fantasised about.

“Are you implying you’re the best?” You paused as you sized Jake up. “That’s some pretentious shit if I’ve ever heard some.” Jake looked at Bob as if to ask for permission. Bob nodded slightly, he wanted to see where Jake was going with this. How far he’d take it. He watched with lustful eye as Jake grabbed your hair and pulled you roughly towards him. Having Harlow Kneel on the edge of the bed. ”Ow—!”

“Look—this is what’s gonna happen okay? Because unlike you two lazy asses I actually have plans today, so I’m gonna fuck you—give you exactly what you want and Bob’s gonna show you what he took from this little—educational training session after. Okay?” Jakes dominating demeanour had you dizzy. This couldn’t be fucking happening. scenarios like this only ever happened in fanfiction— Specifically those cliche fanfictions about the Naval Aviators you knew taking turns sharing the reader. Had you dived too deep one night trying to prove how many girls day dreamed about your boyfriend, Bob? Yes.

“O—okay.” You managed to whimper out, you couldn't have been more turned on right now even if you wanted to be.Regardless of how morally wrong and twisted this whole thing was, you wanted to be used and abused so bad. If this was the only way Bob was going to be able to satisfy your needs? Your wants? So be it.

“Good—“ Jake grinned as he let your hair go. “Now, if things get too rough, or you don’t like something I do? Say Roses. It’s the safe word.”

“Why Roses?” You asked meekly as your knees buckled under the heat.

“Because Bob’s as delicate as a rose bud that’s why we’re doing this.” Jake teased. As if having to watch Jake fuck you wasn’t bad enough. “Now strip.” His tone changed as Bob sat down on a chair against the wall. This felt a little weird—but he would do anything to please you. To give you everything you ever desired and then some.

Bob watched with hawk eyes as you stripped everything off your body. He watched as your hands pushed your pyjama shorts down your legs, he watched you pull Bob’s shirt up over your head—leaving you naked on the bed before him. Bob wanted to run his hands softly over your curves, wanted to tell you how much he adored you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. But as he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his girlfriend? Jake already had his hands on your ass—pulling you closer.

“See the thing is Bob, don’t think that by being rough you love Y/n here any less.” Jake explained. “Y/n is a beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate girl don’t you agree?” He turned to Bob who looked as if he was sweating after running a couple of miles, his face was flushed a crimson red.

“Ye—yeah, she’s amazing.”

“She’s also a whore.” Jake snapped, slapping his hand harshly against your ass, making you squeal from the initial sting but soon you felt the warm print forming. “I mean look at her—she’s letting your best friend touch her? I mean it’s for educational purposes of course but still—such a little whore, and do you know what whore do Bob.”

“N—no?” He couldn't say yes.

“They suck dick when they’re told to, don’t they Y/n.” Jake asked as he pulled his shorts down, pulling his cock from his boxer briefs. Bob watched as Jake pumped himself a few times before pushing your head down. “Don’t they?” He asked again, watching as your mouth moved dangerously close to his tip.

“They do.” You looked at Bob for permission and he blinked slowly as he nodded, watching as you took Jake's first few inches in your mouth as you kept eye contact with Bob. Your Boyfriend who was now watching you suck another guy off.

“Shit—“ Bob palmed himself through his shorts. This was insanity, why was he so turned on? He shouldn't have been–but the sight of you taking Jake's length in your mouth sent him to the moon and back.

“Fuck—“ Jake groaned as you hollowed your cheeks. This was the hottest thing you’d ever done, the most scandalous thing you’d ever been a part of. Moaning around Jake's cock as you bobbed your head— taking more of Jake down your throat like it was your very mission in life to get him off to new heights.

“See Bob—look how she’s not only sucking my cock–” Jake sighed as you took more and more of him. “But look at the way she’s sticking her ass up for me, for us.” His hand slapping against your cheek—causing you to groan around his cock. Pulling away, leaving the trails of spit that connected your lips to the tip of his cock. “It’s pathetic really—you can see how much she desperately wants to be used in her eyes.”

“You think you could use me Bob?” You asked softly. Jake pulled you down to the floor by your hair. “Fuck—!” Jake made you crawl on your hands and knees towards where Bob sat.

“Yeah Robert, do you think you could make her do this?” Bob Watched as Jake pulled you up to just your knees before he worked to shoving his cock down your throat once more—your nose kissed the dark manscaped pubic hair. Jake kept you there as he listened to you gag before pulling you away. “Fuckk—So fucking good Y/n, huh?” Leaning down to slap your ass cheek harshly. Watching as you grinned and giggled. Biting your bottom lip as if to say you loved it.

“I dunno—can I try?” Bob pulled his shorts down as he stood, watching as you sat back on your heels to watch like a good girl. His boxer briefs came next— revealing Bobs hard and stiff as a rock cock that slapped up against his toned lower abdomen.

“Be my guest.” Jake said as he stood back and sat on the edge of the bed. Bob was gentle as he gripped your hair in his hand. “Harder Bob, it isn't rocket science.” Bob’s eyes locked onto yours and saw you begging him for more. Something inside him stung as he looked at you— he wanted to lean down and kiss you. But he knew what you wanted more. So he gripped your hair as tight as he could.

“Ahhhh—“ You hissed out, Bob panicked before he let go, this wasn't him, he couldn't do this.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby—“ It was an apology that wasn't needed, you were truly having the time of your life right now.

“Bob! No!” Jake groaned as he stood, sighing as he grabbed your hair and made you stand. Throwing you on the bed. Harshly.

“Jake! You're hurting her!” Bob yelled.

“Has she or has she not said the safe word?” Jake pointed out as he turned with a growl and a harsh glare Bob's way.

“That doesn’t matter Jake—“

“It does matter! There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure Bob and this little slut right here.” Jake walked over to you on the bed before he spread your legs as you laid still on your back. “Loves pain—tell him.”

“He’s right baby—I’m fine.” You moaned out at Jake's touch. “I’d say if I wasn’t—please just use me.” You begged your boyfriend with enough conviction that for a moment Bob actually believed you.

“Look at her begging Bob, how pathetic.” Jake leaned over you, his knees were now on the bed between your legs. “Right Y/n? Pathetic aren’t you?” Jake groaned as he spat in your face—shoving three of his fingers into your mouth as he slapped his tip against your throbbing pussy. So slick from the arousal that had pooled. A moaning mess as you looked at Bob.

“Watch and learn pretty boy, if I’m such a douche bag, I better live up to the title, huh?” Jake smirked as he shoved himself deep inside you, Bob watched your eyes roll back into your head as you squealed around Jake's fingers. “Fuckk—so tight!”

“Jake—“

“Get over here.” Jake groaned, thrusting himself in and out in and out of your slick and slippery pussy. “Now Bob!!” Bob moved closer as Jake removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your cheek.

“Ahhh fuck! Jake! Yes—!!” You screamed, sending a feeling through Bob he couldn’t explain. He’d never been jealous before, certainly not of Jake. But hearing his girlfriend scream out Jake's name flicked a switch inside him that would never flip back.

“Choke her.” Jake ordered, still fucking deep into your fucked out pussy— his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust he gave you.

“No,” Bob hissed, gritting his teeth. He had to restrain himself from giving into this.

“Bob! I said fucking choke her!!”

“Bob—baby please—“

“Flip her, need her on her knees for a second.” Bob ordered, Jake stopped his thrust and looked at Bob for a second and noticed a change in him. Something had been triggered. He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do.

Educate and teach.

Jake pulled out—pumping himself as you flipped over, ass in the air and ready to be pounded yet again. Jake didn’t waste any time before he slammed right back into your dripping pussy before he stuck his thumb into his mouth. Licking and sucking before softly pressing it against her puckering hole. That was a new sensation you hadnt yet dared explore. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.

“Yess! Jake! Jake please oh my god!!” You screamed as Bob slapped his cock against your face. Holy shit this was really happening.

“You want my cock baby?” Bob asked with a low rumble in his voice you didn't quiet recognised

“So bad Bob—please give me your cock, wanna taste it baby.” You begged before Bob took your head in his hands and placed his cock between your open lips—watching it disappear, more and more–slowly disappearing as you took him down your throat. Eyes watering.

“Now use her Bob, she’s your fuck toy—make her choke.” Jake groaned as he slapped against your ass yet again. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/n.”

Bob thrusted his hips back and forth into your spit dripping mouth, using your mouth as his personal toy. Listening to you gag and groan. He’d never heard these noises coming from you before. He always let you do whatever you wanted. Not one to take charge.

“Fuckk—okay Jake.” Bob gritted his teeth. “Jake get out.”

“What!?”

“Consider class over, get the fuck out!” Bob hissed. Watching as Jake smirked and pulled out. Slapping your pussy harshly making you squeal around Bob’s cock. You tried pulling away but Bob kept you still. Just like you always wanted him to.

“My work here is done I guess, guess I’ll go jerk off somewhere else then.” He chuckled, collecting his pants before leaving the room.

“Now—what am I gonna do with you?” Bob asked, pulling you off his cock and flipping you onto your back. “You want me to be rough with you? Use you? Fine—have it your way baby.” Bob slammed himself inside you, he watched as you smiled, biting your bottom lip. Bob couldn’t help but lean over you, wrap his hand tightly around your neck as he thrusted his hips against yours. He sent his hard throbbing cock deeper into you with each movement.

Bob dipped his head as he tightened his grip, biting at your nipple harshly making you wince. You couldn’t breathe—it was everything you'd ever dreamed about and more, you loved it, every second of it.

“You are a little slut aren’t you?” Bob teased. “Why have I been treating you like a—well” Bob smiled. “Like a rose?” Removing his hand so you could answer.

“Im gonna fucking cum!” You cried out, reaching between the two of you to rub at your throbbing clit. “Bob!! Harder!!” You begged, feeling Bob slam himself inside you a little faster, a little harder. “YYEESS—!”

“Oh Y/n baby I’m gonna fucking cum!!” Bob groaned, feeling you clench and pulse around his shaft. Watching as you trembled, your high washed over you as intensely as ever. It was a sight Bob fell in love with—it was like no other orgasm he’d watched you have.

“Baby—baby, Y/n oh fuck yes! Yes—!” Bob moaned aloud as he felt his balls tighten, shaft twitching as he unloaded deep inside you. Filling you with his cum. Holding you close as your nails left red raw scratches down his slightly muscular back. Bob Fell on top of you with deep heavy pants. He kissed your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake—the first of many marks Bob Floyd would leave on you.

“Bob—did I really just fuck your best friend?” You asked in your daze.

“Yeah—but it’s okay. You know why?” Bob teased as he pushed himself onto his knees above his girl.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to punish you for being such a fucking whore.” Bob hissed as he manhandled your legs, pressing them up to your head. Spitting on your pussy that dripped with his cum. His fingers danced around your entrance before slipping inside—curling up against your velvet walls.

“Oohhh—Bob!” It was a sound Bob could never get tired of hearing. Your pleasure, your desire.

Bob pulled out to slap his hand against your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as you tried to run as he held you still. Just like you wanted him to. Needed him to. Rubbing his thumb around your throbbing clit using his own load to do so with ease.

“Now remember baby—“ Bob smirked as he leaned down to kiss your clit, feeling you shutter from his touch. Pride rose within him because he could do this and still adore you, love you and respect you.

“Just say Roses.”

***~***~***~***~***~

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