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havokangel · 5 years

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Run Boy Run - Braxton Wolff x Reader [Chapter 2]

The last thing Braxton Wolff thought he’d be doing today was killing all of his men, killing half of Moreno’s lackeys, and practically beating an old man into giving him his old pickup to make a messy escape. His nerves and reflexes are on high as he grips his bloodstained gun with one hand, the other managing to stay in a single lane; much to his own shock that he’s actually capable of doing that at the moment.

He’s in the outskirts of Illinois now, and the first, coherent and rational thing that goes through his mind is: I gotta ditch this piece of shit.

Or, the one where an ex-hitman comes into your life and changes it forever - and you’re trying to decide if it was for the better or the worse.

CHAPTER ONE

LINK TO A03

a/n; HELLO ALL! it’s me! karley! i’m not dead!! i promise! i’ve had this chapter sitting in my docs for literally over a year and a half and im so sorry it’s taken me this long yall. i love writing but my life has been INSANE and i’ve just been busy with school and my boyfriend etc. so please leave me some feedback, i would love to come back and write for you guys! enjoy <3

@alexsunmners

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The night of the massacre

It’s been less than 24 hours since the massacre in Chicago. Moreno hasn’t even changed out of his blood-soaked clothes, making him all the more terrifying than he normally is. His jaw has always been sharp, but the way the blood is spattered on it makes it look like it could slit a throat.

With his gun cocked in his hand, he paces slowly, like a lion in front of his pathetic excuse of a team. There’s not a lot of them left, but with their training from an expert like Moreno, he expects more from them than what they’ve given him.

His men watch him with a blank expression, all of them masking the underlying fear that lives deep within them. They watch as he paces quietly, eyeing them as if he was going to pounce any second.

“So,” Moreno finally speaks, voice low and hoarse. “You’re tellin' me that you let Braxton fucking Wolff kill half of my team-and you fuckin’ let him go?”

His brows rise in fury, a downright terrifying and sarcastic grin tugging at his lips. Moreno’s hair is in disarray, and his usual calm and collected demeanor is nowhere to be found. How could it be in a situation like this? His men are dead. Someone he trusted double-crossed him. The worst part? No one saw it coming.

“Huh? You fuckers ain’t got nothing to say, huh?” Moreno hisses, running a hand through his hair, the gun now raised. He doesn’t hesitate as he steps forward, pressing the barrel of the gun against the forehead of one of his men, Wilson. Wilson visibly turns white but doesn’t move. They know Moreno. They know that if one of them does one wrong move, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

“Wolff has my money. He fuckin’ took all of it, and he killed half of you too. How the fuck does that even happen?” Moreno snarls, sweat beading down his temples.

“We didn’t expect it to happen.”

Moreno turns his head slowly at the voice that dares to say something. Barnes.

Barnes always was one of Moreno’s favorites, just under Braxton. Barnes is calm, collected, which Moreno has always liked. Not to mention, he’s one hell of a shot. Barnes knows he’s got some of Moreno’s favor. Maybe he’d listen to him.

“And how the fuck did none of us expect this kind of attack to happen?” Moreno questions, lowering the gun from Wilson’s head. He steps towards Barnes slowly, and Barnes swallows hard and maintains his level-headedness.

“You know Brax. You trained him, you mentored him. Everything he learned was from you, sir. He was always one step ahead. He knew how to keep everything under wraps before the attack. He knew how to lie. That’s why we didn’t expect it to happen.”

Moreno squints as Barnes explains himself, and Barnes can practically feel the pure rage radiating off of him because Moreno knows deep down that he’s right. If anyone else tried to pull off this big of a heist, let alone solo, Moreno would find out and shut it down. Moreno is smart, but Brax is smarter.

And there’s no way Moreno is going to admit that. There’s no way he’s going to let Brax live after stealing his millions of dollars. He’s going to kill Braxton Wolff if it’s the last goddamn thing he does in his life.

Moreno falls silent for a moment before he steps away from Barnes. He thinks for a second before he speaks.

“I want all of you to find Brax. I don’t fuckin’ care what it takes. Find his aliases, find his fuckin’ fake credit cards, fuckin-hack into security cameras-I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna kill that bastard. M’gonna kill him and anyone that gets in my way. You got it?”

Everyone nods, but no one expects Moreno to return the gun to Wilson’s forehead and pull the trigger. The sound of the shot reverberates around the room, and pieces of what was Wilson’s brain lands on the men next to him. Moreno doesn’t even blink as he shoves the gun into Barnes’s hand, and spits,

“Clean that shit up and get to work. We’re gonna find him.”

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Braxton isn’t used to waking up to the sunlight creeping in slowly and the birds chirping. He’s used to hearing the horns of traffic and people with thick Chicago accents yelling at each other. Waking up like this feels like some sort of dream as he blinks his eyes, adjusting to the golden rays of light sweeping over him. There’s something that he hasn’t ever really done before that’s new, as well.

Waking up next to someone.

He tilts his head to look over at you, and the memories from the night before make him bite down on his lower lip. He hasn’t slept over after a hookup since he was in fucking high school. Brax can’t help but reach out to trace his fingertips ever so lightly over the curve of your waist, your lower half covered by his flannel sheets. Much to his surprise, you barely move. But he figures that’s from spending the night fucking relentlessly.

Brax gets up from the bed as up as quietly as he can, wincing slightly when the bed creaks. He scrubs a hand over his beard and pulls his sweats and shirt on and pads to the kitchen, grabbing a mug to make some coffee. As he waits for it to drip, he heads outside to lean against the patio railing, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Last night was amazing, but even fucking a pretty girl doesn’t stop the nightmares.

Every time he manages to sleep, all he can see is the blood, he can hear the screams, he can feel Moreno’s men stabbing him. Every scar on his body fucking hurts every time he thinks of it. Brax can’t help but to rub his hand over the most prominent scar on his neck and shuddering at the thought of how much blood came from it. His breath almost catches as the memories come back, and he knows he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack -- or something damn near close to that.

When Brax was a child, his older brother Christian was his responsibility. He was his responsibility because after their mother left, their father became a different man. And not for the better.

Christian always was different from the other kids. Their parents knew this. Their mother, who took the time to educate herself on Asperger’s, cared and loved Christian despite it. Hell, she even educated Braxton on it and made sure he knew how to be a good brother to Christian even when Braxton was too little to understand.

Their father was a different story.

After their mother left, Christian became even more sensitive to the world around him, which resulted in some episodes of overstimulation. Their mother always would hold him close, and say with him the nursery rhyme she always used to tell them as babies.

Solomon Grundy.

After she left, Braxton took her role. He memorized every word of that rhyme and uses it on himself to this day when he feels like he needs to grab hold of something to anchor him to reality.

So that’s what he does now, and he gets halfway through it before he can hear the slider open and he tenses before he feels your soft arms wrap around his waist.

“Morning, Brax.”

His eyes flutter open and Brax really can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. His large hands dwarf yours as he rubs your hand and turns around in your arms, and says,

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Your hair is in a lazy bun and you have a little bit of mascara smudged under your eyes, and somehow you look even more beautiful than you did the previous night. You almost smirk lazily as your chin rests on his chest.

“I sure hope some of that coffee is for me. I’m gonna need it.”

“Oh yeah? You got work or somethin’?” He teases, hands stroking your back slowly.

“Yeah,” you reply with a laugh, nose scrunching up. “Plus you fucked me real good, so that’s also another reason.”

He passes an easy laugh and he just squeezes your ass, earning a delighted chuckle from you as he says, “C’mon kid. I’ll get you some.”

By the time you both guzzle down your coffee, he’s grabbed your ass more than you would care to admit and you’ve kissed him between soft smiles. If you were squinting, you’d think that he was being soft. But in the fleeting moments when it’s quiet, it feels as if he’s not present; like he’s not quite here, but rather somewhere else. His eyes in those moments feel empty, distant.

You tell yourself not to overthink it. It’s not like you’re married to the guy.

When you’re pulling on your clothes from last night, Brax lies on his bed with his sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips and his hands behind his head, admiring your curves as you move around. After you’re done clothing yourself, he stands and walks you to the front door.

“You want me to walk you back to the bar? S’kind of a far walk.” He offers, hands going in the pockets of his sweats.

“Nah, I should be good,” You respond, arms folded across your chest. “But thanks for last night. It was a lot of fun.” The blush that sneaks past your conscience is enough to make you embarrassed, but Brax finds it sweet.

“No, it was my pleasure. Trust me. Haven’t had that kinda fun in a long time, sweetheart.”

You both just pass a small laugh, and you look at your feet before you look back up at him. You hesitate before you lean forward and kiss his cheek and say, “Neither have I. Give me a call if you’re ever bored, yeah?”

And before he can say anything, you’re leaving, smirking over your shoulder as you steal one last glance at him. He stands there with his hands in his pockets; and the only thing running through his mind as he watches you is, goddamn, he can’t wait to get his hands on you again.

You really don’t expect Brax to text you so quickly. I mean, come on, have you seen the man? He could easily get anybody he wanted to with one look, beguiling them to submission. Shit, he practically did it to you not even twenty-four hours ago.

Maybe it’s the self-deprecating thoughts getting the better of you, but regardless, you shave as soon as you get that text and you head over to his little cabin. After all, you did have a good time the previous night -- the handprints on your ass is more than enough evidence of that.

The porch light is on when you walk up the steps of his porch, and you don’t even get the chance to knock before he’s opening the door, curls awry and a smirk peeking through his beard.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” You tease, smirking as he tugs you in by the wrist. His hand goes to your ass and that smirk of yours vanishes just as quickly as it came.

“Nah, really couldn’t.”

If you thought the night before was incomparable, god were you wrong.

You weren’t even aware that your body was able to bend in the ways he makes you do, and you didn’t think you’d be into the rough way he handles you. His hands wrap around your throat, they smack your ass, and tangle themselves in your hair, making you gasp out his name as a fucking pornstar would. The best part? No neighbors can complain about the noise. Lord knows your nosy neighbors would be shoving an angry note under your door right about now.

By the time you’re done you’re on that high you were reveling in the previous night, Brax lying next to you- no doubt sharing the same feeling. Shoving your damp hair out of your face, you watch him as he stands up, pulling his boxer briefs on and muttering something about grabbing water. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to his back. You squint as he exits the room, making out a huge mark on his back.

Huh. You hadn’t noticed that the night before.

He comes back with a cold glass of water for you, and you groan quietly out in relief after you gulp it down.

“Thanks,” you say softly, clearing your throat as you set the water down. He nods in acknowledgment and reaches down to grab his sweats in the process. You flick your eyes over again, and it’s no denying that it’s a huge scar across his back. It could be the dim lighting, it could be your tired state, but it looks fresh.

Lying back against his pillows, you hesitate before you ask him.

“What happened?”

“Whaddya mean?” He questions, voice gruff as always. He lies down next to you again, and you notice that he didn’t grab himself water. He got himself a beer.

“That scar on your back. It looks pretty fresh.”

Brax just takes another sip of his beer as he shrugs. If there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s lying on the spot. This situation is no different.

“Construction accident. Happened a few weeks before I got here.”

“Oh.”

Four years of a nursing program and one year of a master’s program in nursing taught you that a construction accident doesn’t look like that. A construction accident on that scale is rare. You know that kind of scar is something that’s more personal; more violent. But you don’t push it because, for all you know, it could be a freak accident. It could be true.

“Yeah, hurt like a bitch but I got some cash outta it. M’not gonna complain about some cash, y’know?”

He chuckles about it nonchalantly, and it eases your discomfort about it. So you laugh too. And just like the night before, he finishes off his beer and he pulls you back in for more, pretending like he’s normal again, and that this is normal for him.

#My writing #run boy run #braxton wolff x reader #brax wolff x reader #the accountant #fanfic #the accountant fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #ben affleck #christian wolff #braxton wolff #brax wolff

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dstarstories · 5 years

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🗝 Steele and Cy!

Fair warning! Karley knows them but for anyone else ~ Steele’s is both a spoiler for his (possibly eventual) story & highly sensitive/triggering. Do not read if you don’t want to know!

Steele: *rubs his forehead before he speaks* There’s quite a bit I don’t like talking about but I also don’t make a big deal or try to ignore the bad decisions & stupid shit that I did in my younger days. I’m not embarrassed because I was an addict or anything that came from that time of my life. That being said, there’s only one thing that I do not talk about. I’ve honestly only told Easton about it & when it first came out, it wasn’t that I’d planned it. Something happened & I started freaking out. I trust him & it was important he knew every dark detail of my past for us to be good together. I don’t like thinking about it... about what he did, that disgusting excuse for a human being. I stopped playing piano for a long time. I couldn’t tell my parents why. They would’ve blamed themselves for not knowing or protecting me. How could they have known? He was a piano teacher & had taught so many kids. *he takes a shaky breath* Which I also hate thinking about, how many other kids he hurt. I felt so dirty & ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to know. I still don’t. It wasn’t until I found cocaine that I was able to play again. I craved that feeling that everything was okay, even if it never lasted long. So maybe I became an addict because of all of that pain I’d stuffed down inside. It wasn’t good for me to hold it in but I couldn’t tell anyone. I still can’t bring myself to say it. Obviously.. I was just a child. Now that I have my own kids, I only realize that more. How could someone do that to a child? I would fucking kill someone if they tried to hurt my kids. That I fucking know, without a doubt.

Cyrus: *shrugs* I don’t know. I’m a pretty open person. I don’t have like.. deep dark secrets. I don’t like talking about when I got my heart broken in the past. I know I don’t have to worry about that now, not with Mateo. He’ll always take care of me. She was the opposite of him though. She knew my family had money & about the record label. That’s all she really cared about. She’s hurt me & like a fucking idiot, I’d go right back as soon as she asked. God, how desperate was I? She wanted the stuff, all the material shit & expensive meals & a nice place to stay. She wanted to go to events & meet musicians. It’s fucking ridiculous. So any other time, I had a hard time trusting someone too early. I always worried they wanted something more. I had others that did that to me too, acted like they cared when they only wanted something I could give to them instead of actually fucking loving me. She was just the worst because she did it for so long. I let her though. But I guess it made me really scared to let anyone too close for a while there. I’m glad I let Papi in though. He’s not like that at all. It’s so different but so amazing not to have to worry that I’m being used or some shit. Fuck, it was a horrible feeling.

#tiberius hawke #cyrus hawke #character development #ohsimtastic #thanks for asking!#trigger warning #tw: csa #it wont let me do a read more 🙄

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thorsstorms · 3 years

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Did I never post the picture of my hand in Chris Hemsworths hand print on here? Bc that visual changed my life FYI

#everyone needs to experience this 😂#Chris hemsworth #karley speaks.

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applekissims · 7 years

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Lee, dump twitter shit starter Nez we should get together boo 😘

Who is that? I don’t know him.

and I can’t get together with you sweets. My boyfriend hates sharing and he crazy

@arnezthabully

#and I love him way too much #nah #not happenin son #but who is the twitter shit starter you speak of #LMAO #Karley #ask my muse #Anonymous

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askemilydeanyo · 5 years

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Hello, yes. We had a threesome.

Before I start, I’d like to say that for the bulk majority of my life, I have identified as a relatively jealous person. Not jealous in a comparative way, but in a “tell me everything about your past, in detail, and then comfort me when I get upset about it because I will get upset” kind of way. That being said, when my urge to have a threesome crept up, I was honestly taken off guard. Imagining my partner with other people in the past used to make me queasy, but suddenly thinking of them with someone else was making me seriously horny. What the fuck was going on? I’ll paint the scene for you:

I was on the front porch eating strawberries, reading my final pages of Karley Sciortino’s Slutever, when it first came over me. In a lascivious daze, I looked up to my partner, then cutting the grass, and said: “Do you want to have a threesome?” to which they plainly responded, “Yeah, sure.” So like any self-proclaimed horny millennial sex aficionado, I immediately took to Instagram. (Obviously, I realize that not everybody can hop on their social media account and solicit for a sex partner, but I have a majority of family blocked and let’s be real they are all pretty aware of my sluttiness, so it seemed plausible to me.)

My request, posted in typewriter font over a photo of my leather flogger, simply stated: “Seeking a third for play *devil emoji*.” And voilà, just like that, she was baited. I will say, I got about 9 responses in total, but none of the others quite fit the description. We didn’t want anyone we knew too close, anyone we didn’t know at all, or anyone younger than me. I suppose this is my first tip, being that it might take a while for you and your partner to find someone that you are both attracted to, and it is both okay and encouraged to allow yourselves to be choosey (like, sure it only took us about 3 hours, but I’d say we are an anomaly to the rule.) I know a lot of people take to bars, or get on Tinder, or hire a sex worker, and I think those are excellent options for certain kinds of people, but we didn’t want to just pick from a sea of faces, we wanted to have some sort of connection to our third.

So, when she slid into my DM’s, we were stoked. We both knew her, but very, very vaguely. She and I had met a handful of times in social settings, but never engaged in anything beyond surface level conversation. However, like many of these types of interactions in my life, we had, at some point, talked about sex. I speak very candidly about sexuality – and my online presence is certainly no exception. I run weekly sex polls, I post pre-smut photos of me in full rubber lingerie, and I have an advice column where I answer questions about sex and relationship issues. So the chances that I have given someone sex-related advice online, while only having a conversation about their dog in person is surprisingly high.

Since we had some back-and-forth in the past, she approached it by saying: “If it’s not out of line, maybe I can reach out to you two about joining in the fun? I’ve always thought you’d be fun and comfortable to be around.” Finally! My outward slut-ass-ness had paid off! I was sold on her. I took the idea to my partner and they immediately agreed. As I said, the entire process of deciding we wanted to have a threesome and finding our third took, quite literally, 3 hours, but I’d imagine it is comparable to when you go to adopt a puppy, and think “omg! This is the one!” – it just felt right, you know? We knew that she was hot, and she was kind, and wasn’t a sociopath looking to come in and wreck our relationship, so it genuinely seemed safe.

It became a massive topic of conversation. We began vocalizing our fantasies out loud while we had sex (“You want to see me eat a pussy?” and yes LORD I did), we discussed our expectations and boundaries in depth, and on at least a dozen occasions I said “oh my GOD are we actually doing this?” jumping around like an idiot while doing the dishes. The thought was so exciting. We are both sexually adventurous people, both naturally hedonistic, seemingly born with a desire to please, so adding a third into the mix felt more like an extension of us. Just something and someone fun to do. We ended up running into her that weekend and fucked like literal maniacs afterwards. It was amazing.

The timeline of deciding on the rendezvous and actually putting it into action took a whopping 10 days. The closer the event came, the more and more I became the most annoying version of myself. “Oh my god, she’s coming in 3 days. Oh my god, she’s coming tomorrow. OH MY GOD SHE’S COMING IN 4 HOURS.” When the time finally came, I prepped my body as if I was going to senior prom all over again (except honestly significantly more.) I waxed my bikini line, did a facial, did a hair mask, shaved my legs, exfoliated my entire body, rummaged my closet, took 10 minutes on my eyebrows. We swept the house, washed the sheets, shined all the latex, and boiled all the sex toys. The energy was fun and frantic and flirty.

Within the comfort of your monogamous relationship, it’s normal to begin to care less about these things, which is not to be taken as a diss. When you see someone essentially every day of your life, you care a lot less about deep conditioning your hair and more about paying your rent on time. Knowing that someone was going to experience our home, our bodies, and our relationship dynamic for the first time took us back to those butterfly-in-tummy vibes – when you actually made an effort to match your socks and tend to your ingrown hairs. It was so sweet knowing my partner was taking the time to landscape their pubes and make sure they looked good in their outfit. I felt like I was going on our first date all over again, which was a really welcoming and unexpected phenomenon.

I’ll fast forward and spare you the visual of me crouched over cleaning the toilet in leather pants (just kidding, there was the visual): She arrived. My partner and I were sitting in separate rooms when I saw her car pull up. As one might imagine, I literally screamed. The following is a rough description of what happened: She came in, we gave her the house tour, we chatted over a glass of champagne (that I admittedly took no more than three sips of because I had taken two power shots when I saw her car pull up) (that and my partner refuses to fuck drunk people which is one of the hundred things I love about them.) And then… we showed her ‘The Drawer.’

Okay, look. My partner and I are sex freaks. If you know either of us in person, I can guarantee that our sex drawer is exactly what you are visualizing. It is filled with latex and leather, and sensory deprivation accessories, and cock lassos, and butt plugs, and dildos and vibrators and weird medical equipment that even freaks us out at times. This was the moment of truth. When you open your sex drawer to someone, you are essentially showing them your lifespan porn history, your darkest fantasies, your bank statement and your daddy issues all at once. It is vulnerable and spooky and oddly exciting. Anyways, she was into it.

After some chatting in the bedroom, we were all clearly getting antsy, so I decided to take initiative. I asked our third to strip to her comfort level. I asked my partner to blindfold her. I took myself in the bathroom, got into a latex get up, and had a full blown Issa Rae style pep talk with myself in the mirror. When I emerged into the bedroom I found our third blindfolded and stripped to her panties, while my partner was rubbing her legs. My first thought was “Oh my god, am I gay?” I was so turned on. The roles of my partner and myself became immediately clear. Here they were, prioritizing comfort and consent, not wanting to overstep any boundaries (especially while I wasn’t in the room), and I come in wearing full domme gear, leather riding crop in hand, alarmingly ready to turn some asses red. My partner is truly the yin to my yang.

I won’t go into too much detail, partially because I blacked a lot of it out (adrenaline, not vodka, I promise) but also because this is meant to be less smut and more narrative; so let’s just say I was in a deviant bitches version of heaven. As someone who identifies as a 96% heterosexual woman, I was honestly anxious about having a vulva in my face. Believe me when I say I am a huge preacher of “vagina’s are snowflakes,” but admittedly, I’m picky (don’t come for me I am literally just straight.) I was so relieved that when our third was naked before us, I was in absolute awe. My dreamboat of a partner, a beautiful naked person, and a nightstand covered with sex toys; I could’ve died right then and been totally cool with it (except our third did not sign up for Necrophilia 101 and let’s be honest I knew immediately that I wanted to do it again.)

The one thing that put me the most at ease was our ability to prioritize comfort. This has to take form in various ways. Being comfortable enough to assert what you want: harder, deeper, lower, just spread my butt cheeks more, being comfortable enough to fumble (i.e. having to literally remove our third’s fingers from my body after dropping the magic wand on the floor and watching it vibrate its way across the room,) being comfortable enough to show someone a drawer filled with electric stimulation pads and urethral sounds (unused, before anyone freaks out), being comfortable enough to ask someone to swap gloves so you don’t exchange bacteria. It is seriously vital. In porn, we often see someone take their dick out of one vagina and put it in the other, and in reality that just isn’t safe. That being said, when our third hopped out of bed and put on gloves without being instructed, I felt like a proud mom (except like horny step mom that fucks the girl next door), because not only was she prioritizing our safety, but she was also simultaneously not judging us for wearing medical exam gloves while we fucked. Truly a win-win.

In summary, we all came, we cleaned up, and we sat on the bed after and recapped straight slumber party style. A visual: All of us are wearing crop tops and undies, drinking Moscato from the bottle, a murder scene of sex accessories littering the floor beside us. During this time, I was paying close attention to my emotions. I had been a third to a couple once in the past, and the girl told me that immediately after the horny feelings subsided, she cried a lot. I was waiting for this feeling to sweep over me, but instead, my thoughts were more “oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to fuck her with the strap on.” It was all really, really pleasant.

After she left, my partner and I had sex once again, and for the next few days we brought it up at least once every hour or so. In the middle of an art fair: “Remember when you first walked into the room and grabbed her? That was my favorite part.” in the middle of eating pancakes: “Do you think she came good?” in the last few seconds of a Warriors vs. Clippers game: “My finger literally went into her ass on accident.” It was like a Facebook memory popping up to remind you that you are a sex goddess, rather than an unfortunate seventh grader with side swoop bangs.

In addition to these micro bursts of horny memories zapping me throughout the day, I also found myself feeling tremendously liberated all around. Suddenly, I felt like that bitch. I felt more sure of myself and my relationship than ever before. I felt proud of my ability to casually share my wonderful partner with someone else. I also experienced some unexpected but cutesy and innocent feelings of having a crush, like, omg I wonder if she’s told her friends, I wonder if she liked us, I wonder if she’ll want to come back. I still feel all of that.

Some people might read this thinking: Emily, was this really worth a 4000 word essay? It’s a threesome, chill, people do this all the time; while others might think: Hell no, I would never let my partner fuck someone else! Both to which I respond: I get it. A ton of people take comfort in routine, and monogamy, and would never think of sharing their partner’s bodies with someone else. Other people are more laissez faire, and are totally cool with the thought. I guess I fall somewhere in the in-between. The reason I am writing this is solely to inform others of one thing above all else, and that is: When you allow someone else to be with your partners body, it is solely that: their body. You must be able to compartmentalize your sexuality. The sex you have with your partner right after a fight, or at 7a.m. half hard and half asleep, or after a romantic anniversary dinner can never be replaced by a 10p.m Friday night Ménage à trois, nor is it meant to. You are not lending out your partner’s heart, you are lending out their oral sex game because you yourself find it to be phenomenal and you want someone else to experience it.

Your third doesn’t get to know the exact 45 degree angle at which your partner likes their penis stroked, or the exact string of words that’ll make you cum in seconds, or how you like your scalp rubbed before you fall asleep. They are there for newness, for fun, and for straight up sexual gratification. Their roll is essentially to cum and leave (after sitting cross legged blushing over the fact that you both have outie vulvas, and also, like maybe not leaving forever because you might want them to come back in the future!) not to rock your partner’s world and leave them looking at you like an old pair of beat up sneakers or whatever. If you are worried about your third outshining you, or your partner developing feelings, or your primary and secondary running off and having some kind of love affair, then a threesome just is not for you. Having a fear of infidelity as a result is a pretty clear indicator that something deeper is going on, and why subject yourself to unnecessary anxiety if you don’t have to? (PSA: You don’t have to.)

A threesome will not fix your relationship if it is on the rocks. It will not mend your trust issues. It will (likely) not cure your diminished libido. It will not grant you any otherwise unreciprocated respect in your relationship. You get no brownie points. A threesome is literally a novel concept. It is to witness your partner in action outside of your standard point of view. It is to learn new things that turn you on and turn you off. It is to remind yourself that you can be in a long term, serious, primarily monogamous relationship and still be able to experience the joy of other people’s bodies in a safe and controlled environment. It is to fuck, and to get fucked. To cum, and to make cum. It is to let someone eat you out that doesn’t eat you out every day.

If you came here for my recipe for a successful threesome, here is what I can suggest: (Please keep in mind that I am a literal amateur, but I do feel confident in my knowledge, so here you go:) First, plan accordingly. Plan around your menstrual cycle, around your work schedule, when you can get a baby sitter, etc. Then communicate! The communication is pivotal before, during, and after, but it is especially important beforehand as this can make or break your situation. Discuss your boundaries: What are your hard limits? What would you like to try? What are some things you know you like, know you don’t like? Which toys strike your fancy? What are some names you like to be called? What are your pronouns? What terminology do you prefer us reference your genitals with? Which parts of your body are off limits? When was the last time you were tested? Are you wanting to keep this between us three, or can I write a 4,000 word blog post about it? I could go on and on.

Other important things to discuss are rules and expectations (which fall under the umbrella of communication.) Some of my rules were that I didn’t want them being in contact without me knowing, so no exchanging of phone numbers or socials, and we also unanimously decided that there would be no penis in vagina intercourse. Some other rules to consider might be: Areas of the body that can and cannot be touched (anyone say asshole? Cause I sure didn’t), if the third can stay the night, certain sentimental pet names to avoid, etc. Some expectations that I outlined were basically just that everyone do what I say. Surprisingly, this was less of me being ‘the dick manager’ and more of me being more dominant in nature. Luckily, my partner and my third are (or at least were) more sub leaning, so they happily obliged. Other expectations were that everyone felt comfortable to speak freely, to take breaks, to vocalize their needs, and to stop if they needed to stop. Also I wanted to know a general idea of what I was expected to wear and what kind of energy I was expected to bring to the table.

Another massive thing to consider is safety. Do you have any transmittable diseases or infections? Are you feeling sick? Are you allergic to any materials? Are you willing to sanitize toys, change condoms, use gloves, use barriers, and wipe down the hitachi head when switching partners? If not, seriously don’t even consider. It is selfish, and potentially transmitting infections, getting someone sick, or GOD forbid pregnant is seriously not worth the extra set of hands. Clearly talk about safety, make it accessible (condoms and toy cleaner by the bed) and don’t let yourself get too drunk to forget about it.

Something that proved to be really important to us was someone who would honestly just accept us for the freaks that we are. Lack of judgement is important in any activity where you are putting yourself on display, but especially in a sexual situation. Imagine if you came to someone with your deepest desires and they crinkled their nose in disgust? It is honestly world shattering. So, plan your threesome with someone who you know is open minded. In my case, I am lucky that I am pretty outwardly filthy online, so our third likely had some type of idea, but in the case of anyone else, use your best judgement, and have some conversations around the topic. Be clear about your wants and your needs. You want to be able to proudly ask for someone to shove a dildo in your ass, not be hesitant and afraid. Both your orgasm and your dignity are on the line here.

Another thing I would like to highlight is that although the role of the third (in our case at least) is to essentially serve as a human sex toy, they are exactly that: a human. It is crucial that you are checking in, making sure they feel catered to, and safe, and comfortable. I’d like to think this is too obvious to state, but in the event that it’s not, I will say it: Everyone’s comfort and pleasure should be a priority. Only in some fucked up alternate universe does inviting someone new into the bedroom mean you start prioritizing one person’s body over the other. Everyone is equal and worthy of respect, and just because someone might get off on being called a slut in the bed, doesn’t mean they want to continue to feel like a slut once they leave your house. Be mindful. A good third understands that that their role is temporary and doesn’t need to be reminded through negligence of their basic human emotions.

My last point to touch on is how to bring up the subject to your partner, which will likely vary from relationship to relationship. My partner and I are very laid back. Our approach to sexuality is much less focused around ‘the art of seduction’ and much more on direct pleasure and connection. Like, instead of lighting candles to ‘set a mood’ we are lighting candles to pour the wax on each other… because it feels good… you know? So in my case, it was as simple as asking directly because we are always direct with requests. Other people might need more tenderness. You might consider saying: “While I am totally satisfied with our sex life, I was wondering if you would ever be interested in introducing another person into the mix? I think it would be a fun way for both of us to explore, together, and safely, as we would be in view of one another.” Clearly state your expectations, your desires, and your intentions. And if your partner declines, respect their decision. Nothing should be forced on anyone, and asserting time and time again that you want to fuck someone else will likely leave your partner feeling like they aren’t good enough. Then you don’t get your threesome and your partner feels like shit. Was it really worth asking that fourth time?

Returning to my first question (me questioning my overall sanity) – before, during, and after the fact, I realized what was going on inside of me was that I was finally dating someone that I trusted entirely. The reason that I was able to walk into a room to find my partner sitting in bed with a beautiful naked person and not literally vomit is because they weren’t doing anything to me, they were doing something with me. If you are proposing a threesome to keep your partner’s interest, or to prove something shallow to yourself, spare yourself the energy. I have said it before and I will say it again: Expanding outside of monogamy should always be from an abundance rather than a lack thereof. You should not be thinking “My girlfriend doesn’t let me fuck her in the ass, so maybe our third will.” You should be thinking “My partner does this really amazing thing with their tongue, and it would be really hot to see how someone else reacts to it.” (And maybe if you’re lucky your third will gladly take it up the ass?)

So, wrapping up, perhaps you should consider having a threesome if you: Are secure in your relationship, if you find your partner to be too hot to keep to yourself, if you have an abundance of trust and respect for one another, if you are both willing to respect boundaries and safety measures, if you are wanting to explore other bodies while keeping your partner included, or if you are horny hedonists looking for some good spank material. You should not consider having a threesome if you: Feel pressured to, if you think it will mend an otherwise crumbling relationship, if you are feeling insecure, if you have trust issues, if your partner has expressed romantic interest in the third, if either of you have had a relationship with the third in the past (could get messy), if you are not attracted to the third, or if it is a last ditch effort to impress your partner.

Realistically, there are probably hundreds of reasons why introducing someone into your bedroom is or is not a good idea, so please note that I do realize I am only speaking to a small percentage of people. The reality just is that: like a raw vegan diet is not for everybody, like funneling a beer is not for everybody, like adopting a cat, or backpacking through Europe, or learning how to unicycle is not for everybody, having group sex is not for everybody. It is okay to leave certain kinds of activities to certain kinds of people, no matter how intriguing they might seem from a distance.

By no means am I saying that all group sex configurations must be rooted in love. They can be rooted in lust, in adventure, in curiosity – but one thing that is absolutely CRUCIAL is that they are rooted in trust. I trust that you will switch condoms and sterilize shared toys. I trust that you will respect my body and my boundaries and my concerns. I trust that you won’t turn into a pussy crazed lunatic and start trying to have threesomes weekly. I trust my partner with everything from my social security number to my incest fantasies, which means, most importantly, that I trust that they won’t go off and try to fuck anyone without me. If you have any doubt in your mind that you are doing this for reasons outside of solely hedonistic, pure, and/or loving intentions, consider reconsidering.

Now to share some gratitude: Thank you massively to my partner for allowing me to fulfill my sexual destiny, for supporting all my impulsive endeavors, for prioritizing my orgasms, and for never making me feel small (unless I want to feel small, then thank you for catering to that too.) Thank you so much to you, dream third, for making us both feel safe, for coming into our dynamic with an open mind, for feeling comfortable enough to not only share your body with us but also your stories, and your requests, and your positive energy (and for tolerating my demands and recurring slapping.) And thank you to anyone who has read all of this x so so much love.

#scared to tag anything naughty

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xsnappedxhummelx-blog · 5 years

Conversation

texts || karley

MARLEY: Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with me but it has everything to do with him.

MARLEY: He didn’t want me to come anyway and I was here before he was even allowed people. I left once, for a couple hours because as much as he’s pretending he’s fine, I don’t think he is.

MARLEY: He’s not sleeping properly. He’s all jokes whenever anything real gets brought up. He entirely stopped fighting me being here days ago. I just really thought you’d show up, Kurt. Nothing in the world could keep me away from Charlie if she was in the hospital after something so traumatic.

KURT: Marley you don’t get to tell me how to deal with this and you don’t get to tell me off for doing what Aaron asked.

KURT: You go on ahead thinking I am a shit brother all you want but I’m not. I’m moving back into our house so I can care for him 24 hours of the day even though it just got broken into and someone got stabbed.

KURT: I used every last penny of my last pay check getting the place cleaned and the door fitted with more security so he could sleep well.

KURT: Oh wait and I also had to speak with our father cause he deserves to know his son was stabbed by some randoms.

KURT: Insinuate I'm a terrible brother once more and I swear to God....

KURT: I'm doing my job by making sure he is safe when he gets home. Left to you, he'd go back to an unsafe apartment with blood everywhere.

KURT: Stop pretending you are perfect cause believe me. You aren't.

#text #t:marley

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twrites1 · 6 years

Text

Where Were You in the Morning?

Time Frame: Friday Evening, May 25, 2018

Location: Destin, Florida

Summary: Based on Shawn Mendes’ song, “Where Were You in the Morning?”

You said, "I wanna get to know ya"

Why you gotta get my hopes up?

You said that you were staying over

But then I woke up to the cold air

How could you make me believe?

That there was something in between you and me, yeah

I look around and I don't see you

Where were you in the morning, baby?

You didn't leave your number for me

Left me without a warning, waiting

Where were you in the morning, baby?

How do you, how do you just walk away?

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it asshole, gimme my money.”

Sam stared at his friends, shaking his head as he picked up his beer bottle and finished the rest of it, chuckling at them and the mixed reactions from everybody else in the bar.

Brandon grabbed his abandoned cup before speaking, throwing the money on the table, “Admit you was scared though. Boston looked like they were about to win.”

Carter snatched up the two hundred dollars, “King James always makes a comeback. No ifs, no buts, no maybes about it. Sunday, it’s a wrap for them.”

Reno rolled his eyes at him before he looked over at Sam, “I’m glad you came out tonight. Boys night long overdue.”

“For real. I’m glad you’re not sitting around your house moping.”

“I was never moping around, I just buried myself back into my work per usual.” Sam rolled his eyes at them, seeing the look on their faces, “Can we just not y’all, please let’s just stop bringing it up.”

“Nah bro, we’re gonna talk about it.” Carter spoke up after putting his collected money in his wallet, “Who shall not be named consumed your life for three years, we barely saw you and then going to pull some shit like that. I’m surprised you aren’t seeing a shrink.”

“Hell, I’m surprised you’re not either.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. I’ll just let karma take care of it.” Sam told them truthfully with a smile as she lifted his second beer bottle, “That situation is someone else’s problem now.”

“You say that, but are you really okay?”

“I swear I’m fine, I swear. Scouts honor.”

“Damn right brother. You’ll get back on that saddle sooner or later..or maybe you have and just haven’t told us.” Brandon hit his shoulder, waggled his eyebrows, earning an eye roll from him, “What? It’s time to get your...”

“And on that note.” Sam stood up abruptly, causing them to throw their arms out in protest, “Goodnight.” He chuckled as they threw napkins and chips at him as he left, shaking his head as he made his way out the door, the warm breeze hitting his face. He was fiddling with his keys as he headed to his car when he saw a woman leaned under the hood across the street. Scanning the backside of the woman in the short green dress that fitted her in all the right places appreciatively, he looked both ways for cars before crossing the street, coming up behind her, “Excuse me miss.” He watched as she stood straight up and turned around in her nude heels, his mouth suddenly dry when he saw her face. Those eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing it before speaking, “Need some help?”

“No, I got it.” She said as she glanced at him before crossing her arms over her chest to cover the cleavage that was showing due to the very low v cut dress, “I already called a tow truck.”

Sam nodded his head before taking his eyes off of her and looking underneath her hood, “Looks like your r-“

“Radiator blew out.” She cut him off knowingly, moving her hair behind her ears before turning to look as well just as lightening silently struck in the sky, “It was only a matter of time.”

Even though she said she was fine and had called someone, Sam didn’t want to leave her out here alone for the simple fact that she was a woman and she definitely was going to catch some unwanted attention by the way she was dressed.

The woman looked down at her phone and groaned when she noticed the tow truck wouldn’t be here for another hour or so, “Great. Just great.”

“Its a restaurant right across the street you come wait in. Come on.” Sam said as he lifted his hands in the air when she threw him a look, “I’m a good guy, I swear. I just don’t want you to be out here by yourself.”

The woman looked at him skeptically before jumping at the sound of the thunder and feeling the rain immediately come down afterwards, “Fine.”

Sam smiled as he watched her lock her car and stand beside him as they walked crossed the street quickly to get into the restaurant. He opened the door and let her go in first, clearing his throat to grab the attention of the girl as he entered the establishment.

The hostess raised her head from her phone and eyes went wide once she saw who it was, putting her device away, “Mr. Evans.”

“Bridgette, for the millionth time, just Sam. Please.” He said as he watched her nod and sent her a smile, “We’re going to take this window table and can you take her to the back to get her some dry clothes.”

“Yes sir.” She said as her eyes went to the woman questionably before giving her a smile, grabbing her hand, “Follow me.”

Sam watched as she left his side and followed behind the young girl. Taking off his wet jacket, he made his way to the table and sat down. Thankfully, it was closing time, so it wasn’t anyone in there but the staff.

“Look who decided to finally show his face around here after months. It’s like you let the trifling situations that went on run you away from your own place.”

“Please don’t start.”

“Bro, you know it’s true.” He said as he crossed his arms and looked at him, “You know she’s getting married tomorrow, right?”

Sam rolled his jaw before looking away from him and out the window, “I could care less.”

”You do, and I’m not saying it in an “oh, you still love her” way, because I know you don’t. It’s more of a pissed off way, which is understandable.” He told him, deciding to change the subject, “Anyways, what brings you here this late for real?”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he saw the woman coming back, causing his brother to turn around.

“And who do we have here?” The man let out a low whistle as she came up, dressed in now T-shirt and a pair of sweats, her wet her pulled up into a donut, her now ruined damp dress folded in her arms and heels in her hands. She was lucky that her and Bridgette was the same size shoes because she had some spare chucks in her locker, “I’m Lennox.”

“Karley.” She said with a half smile, shaking his outreach hand, her eyes drifting back to Sam, who was now standing up in front of the table.

“My baby brother didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend.”

“We’re not together.”

Lennox watched as they both spoke at the same time, raising a brow, “Mhm.”

Sam glared at him, giving him the ‘shut up before I hurt you’ look, “We just met five minutes ago. Her car broke down.”

“And I’m waiting for the tow truck so…”

“The kitchen is still open.” Lennox commented, not wanting to hear anymore of how they met, turning around, gesturing outside, “Might want to order something because that tow truck is not getting here anytime soon.”

Sure enough, Karley’s phone dinged, causing her to roll her eyes and groan when she read the text message, sitting down in the chair, “Weather is very bad where they coming from, don’t know when or if they’ll make it.”

“It’s going to be like that all night. I could take you home if you want.”

“I live twenty minutes away and I’m definitely not getting in a car with a stranger.”

She had him there. He nodded his head understandably before leaning back his chair, seeing AJ making his way to table, “Get to know me then.”

She looked at him through her lashes and ran her tongue across her teeth before she sucked in the air.

“What’s up, Sam?” AJ greeted the man with a handshake before his eyes wondered to Karley, sending a smile, “Miss.”

Sam watched as she gave him a nod before he turned his attention back to him, gesturing to the glass, “What you got going?”

“Lennox told me you were out here and ask me to bring you this.” He held up the cup of brown liquor, which without a doubt was whiskey, and sat it in front of Sam, “I’m glad to see you are, man. I’m sorry about the last time you were here. Shit was foul.”

Karley watched Sam’s features turn solemn before a smile came on his face, shaking his head which caused curiosity in her mind.

“It’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.”

“Right.” He nodded before rubbing the back his neck, his eyes wondering back to the woman, “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water, thank you.”

Sam watched as he nodded before leaving, turning his attention back to the beauty in front of him, “So, what’s your real name because I know for sure Karley isn’t it.”

She quirked a smile before giving him a challenging look, “What makes you think it’s not?”

Sam smirked as he pressed the glass to his lips and took a sip, “I just know.”

He‘s good. I’ll give him that. Mercedes didn’t give out her real name to anyone until she got to know them. But he wasn’t entirely right about it not being her name. Karley was in fact her middle name, a name that symbolized and meant so much to her mother. She scanned him curiously and had to admit that he was cute. She wouldn’t normally let strangers get this far, but it was something about him that made her interested, “I want to get to know you.”

“You’re trying to avoid my question.”

“It’s not avoiding if it’s really my name.” Mercedes smiled at him as she crossed her ankles, leaning back in her chair as he chuckled.

Sam watched AJ come back and give her the water, lifting his glass so he could bring him another one.

“So, this is your family’s restaurant?”

“Yep, our second one. We have another location in Pensacola.” He said as he stared at her, “What do you do for a living, ‘Karley’. ”

“You can stop saying it like that and putting it in quotes, it’s my name.” Mercedes chuckled as she took a sip of her water, “I’m a waitress.”

“Bull.” Sam called out as he sat up in his seat and leaned forward, “You’re not a very good liar.”

“What do you do?” Mercedes ignored his accusation, crossing her arms and intertwining her fingers together.

“I’m a computer technician.”

Mercedes stared at him for a moment before she laughed, “Now that’s bullshit.”

“Real estate attorney.” Sam replied honestly as he pulled one of his cards from his pocket and gave it to her, watching as she read over it.

“Sam Evans.” Now why does that name sound familiar? Mercedes wondered in her head before she lifted her eyes back to the man, “Originally from here?”

“Born and raised. How about you?”

“Tourist.”

Sam’s grin came back into play, “Why you being so secretive?”

Mercedes put the straw back in her mouth and sipped her water, shrugging at his question, “Don’t know what you’re talking about..”

“You did say you’re twenty minutes away from home right? So, I’m guessing you from Fort Walton?” When he saw her smile and noticed she wasn’t going to give him an answer, he smirked before looking down at his phone, “98 is closed until the morning.”

Mercedes’ smile slowly faded from her face, grunting as she ran her hands over her face, groaning out, “You have got to be kidding me?”

“Nope. I’m indeed not.” Sam handed her his phone, watching as she took it and looked at the news, “Looks like you’re stuck.”

“Dammit, now I’m for sure going to have a jam packed day tomorrow.” She mumbled as she let out a sigh before handing him his phone back. She sat back in the seat with a pout as she pulled out her phone to see if she could get a room for the night then she remembered she didn’t have any of her cards.

“I have a guest room.” Sam offered without hesitation as he moved the glass to the side.

Mercedes raised her eyes from her phone to him, “What makes you think that I’m going to go home with you?”

“Well, seeing that you just came from some type of event, I assume you thought you wasn’t going to have any problem because you were going to be going straight home. Because of that, you only have cash and didn’t bring any of your credit cards. And now that your car broke down, all of your money is going to go to towing tomorrow, so I highly doubt you have any money for a room. You probably can get someone to pay for it but you should save money, plus it’s the start of summer break and the weekend. I’m pretty sure every hotel is booked.” Sam said without missing a beat, finishing off his second glass before speaking again, “You’re the first damsel in distress that I’ve helped out.”

“Far from a damsel in distress and you have all the answers don’t you?” Mercedes commented, watching as he shrugged and stood up, leaving some cash on the table. She chewed on her bottom lip before rolling her eyes, standing up as well knowing he was right, “Fine, but just so you know, if you try something, you’ll regret it quickly.”

“Not that type of guy.” Sam stated truthfully as he held out his arm for her to go in front of him. Looking at Bridgette, “Tell Lennox I’ll be back at noon to help.”

“Sure will. Have a safe night, Sam.”

Sam glared at her when she put emphasis on the word, causing the girl to smile before turning around and heading to the back.

The drive wasn’t surprisingly awkward like they both thought it would be. It took them only ten minutes with the traffic to get to his house, which Mercedes wasn’t too surprised by as she got out and closed his truck door.

“Of course you live by the beach, of course.”

“Who wouldn’t want to down this way?” Sam asked with a smile, watching as she rolled her eyes as they walked up the steps, “Besides…”

“Let me guess, this is your second home. You live here during the summer and your main home is a condo that’s not too far away from here.” Mercedes said as she stared at him with a smirk, seeing the expression on his face as she came to a stop at his front door, “You’re not the only one who can read people.”

Sam didn’t even have a response as he opened the door, letting her go in first.

Mercedes looked around as she walked in and couldn’t help but be surprised, “You have a girlfriend or wife?”

Almost. “Why?”

“Your house has a feminine touch to it.” Mercedes noted as she turned around and faced him, “No man that I know house is this fully furnished and decorated neatly.”

“No, but I do have four sisters and a mom, who feels the need to have a say in what my houses look like.”

Mercedes laughed at that, sitting her purse down on the couch, “I know the feeling.”

“Siblings?”

“Two brothers and a sister.”

Sam smiled at her, realizing that she was starting to share more about herself but he wasn’t going to push. He would have plenty enough time to get her to open up before the morning. He walked over to where she was and grabbed her dress and under garments, “I’ll wash these.”

“Aren’t you a sweetie pie?”

“I try, I try.” He smiled, earning a chuckle from her, “The bathroom is down that hall to your right. There’s already towels, soaps, shampoos, conditioners and all that other crap you women need.”

“It’s not crap, it’s necessities.” She corrected before moving her loose hair back behind her ear, “In all seriousness, thank you for letting crash here.”

“No problem. Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m okay. Besides, you look like you only can make grilled cheese.” She joked playfully, watching as he brought his hands to his chest.

“I’m highly offended. Not only do I know how but I make the best grilled cheese ever. My omelets aren’t that bad either.”

“Hm, I’ll hold you to it.”

“I do have a question for you though.”

“Shoot.”

“Are you always so stubborn to a point where you won’t let anyone help you?”

Mercedes pursed her lips before walking pass him and down the hall, “What do you think?”

Before Sam could give her an answer, she had made it to the bathroom and shut the door, causing him to laugh and yell, “Yes, a big yes.”

Mercedes heard him chuckle and yell his answer, causing her to smile as she took off her clothes and got into the shower. Sighing in content as the hot water hit her skin, she went and stood under the water to let it flow through her hair. She was thankful that she had given weave a break and went back to her natural state because she would hate to have it ruin due to the rain. She thought about the day she had and didn’t expect for it to turn out like it did. She definitely didn’t expect to end up in a very attractive man that she barely knew house for the night. Honestly, she was glad that it did worked out the way it did.

Sam had just started washer before he came out. He went upstairs and grabbed something for her out of his drawer to wear to bed. Once he made it back down, he went to the kitchen to get him a sip of orange juice from out of the refrigerator, the alcohol in his system long gone. He was glad he wasn’t a light weight. It took a lot for him to get buzzed and even drunk. He picked up the clothes and made his way to the guest room, not noticing the shower had stopped running. About two minutes later, he heard footsteps along the hardwood, prompting him to turn around. There she stood in front of him drying her hair with a towel, her body wrapped up in a white plush robe, “Feel better?”

“Much better.” She smiled as she turned around and placed the towel in the hamper that was in the corner by the door.

“Don’t worry, there are clean, fresh sheets and pillows on the bed.” Sam commented as he watched her glance over the room before her eyes met his again, giving her his signature lopsided grin before walking up to her and holding out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers, ”Something for you to put on.”

Mercedes stared at him as a smile came onto her lips, ducking her head a bit, “Don’t need them.”

Sam was about to questioned her until she closed the space between them and stood up on her toes and leaned up to place her lips on his, the items in his hands now occupying the floor. He was taken by surprise but that didn’t stop him from reacting to it as he brought her closer, his hands falling to the sides of her body, whispering, “You right, you don’t.”

Mercedes smirked against his lips before her hands went to the ends of his shirt, breaking the kiss to lift it off of him. She stood back as she bit down on her bottom lip, staring him up and down with lustful eyes.

Sam pulled her back to him, his mouth finding hers in a heated kiss, removing it then making the move to her jaw and on downward.

Mercedes giggled at the tickling sensation as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his mouth moving down her collarbone slowly with the feeling of him marking along the way.

Walking forward and causing him to hit the front of the bed, which made him sit down. She straddled his lap and leaned into the kiss before pushing him backwards on the bed until he was laying flat.

Sam stared at her for a moment, silent words being exchanged between them before he untied the robe, leaving it unopened before he kissed her.

She grabbed ahold of his belt as she sucked and tugged on his bottom lip before letting do, glancing down at him as she breathed heavily, “I never sleep with people I just met.”

“That’s makes two of us.” He got out just as she leaned back down and captured his lips with hers again, causing him to wrap his arm around her waist and flip them over to where he was on top, feeling her nails rake down his bare back didn’t phase him one bit. Their breathing labored and moans graduated loudly as the night went on. This night went from zero to one hundred real quick.

Sam groaned lowly as she sun beamed brightly in his eyes, causing him to peep them open, head pounding lightly as he sat up. He yawn as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking over to the side and noticing that it was empty and made up. Getting up from his bed, he grabbed a pair of shorts and slid them on. Heading to his bathroom first to check, finding it empty, he moved out of the room and went into his living room. There was no trace of her anywhere. Not even a note. Sighing, he went back to the room room and plopped down, groaning as he stared up at the ceiling in disappointment. Dammit girl.

And I hope you had a good reason

‘Cause I know you had a good time

And I’m looking up at the ceiling

And I keep wondering why

Where were you in the morning, baby?

You didn’t leave your number for me

Left me without a warning, waiting

I said, where were you in the morning baby?

How do you, how do you just walk away?

#samcedes #samcedes one shot #samcedes fanfiction

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