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#flights of margaritas
lila-rae · 1 year
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Why did we think traveling today for the first time with all 4 kids was a good idea? Even with 3 adults I’m dreading this flight?
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So far the 8 year old has melted down over not being able to find his Pokémon card journal before we left. 6 threw a tantrum because we wouldn’t let her wear her princess dress (the one with a hoop skirt). Bug has been surprisingly calm so knock on wood. And #4 decided as we were walking out was the time to have a blow out. And hasn’t unlatched from the boob since we got here and I put her in the sling.
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kawaiijay · 2 years
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roadtrippinlilly · 2 years
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CHEERS!
Source Me laf@ilyF ❤
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scuderiahoney · 7 days
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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5
Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words
Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury
It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.
“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.
Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”
“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”
George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.
Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”
“Not really?” He says, shrugging.
Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”
Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.
Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”
You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”
Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“
“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”
…..
The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.
Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.
You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”
Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.
An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.
After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.
“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.
He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.
…..
The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.
By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.
When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.
“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.
“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.
“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”
You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.
Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”
Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”
You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.
…..
Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.
“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”
Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”
“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”
Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.
“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”
Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.
He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”
You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.
“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”
Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.
Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.
You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.
You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.
The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”
You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”
Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”
You nod. “I’ll stay here!”
“Me too,” Oscar adds.
“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”
Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.
A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.
“This is really nice,” he says, softly.
The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”
Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”
He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.
“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”
You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.
There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.
…..
Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.
You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.
You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.
Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”
You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.
Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.
“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.
You nod. “Me too.”
His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-
Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?
“I…” he starts, then stops.
You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.
If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.
He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.
…..
The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.
He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.
Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.
There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.
One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.
When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.
He just eyes you carefully,
“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”
You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.
You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.
You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.
It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.
When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”
His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.
“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”
You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”
You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.
Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.
One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.
“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”
You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”
“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” you murmur back.
Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.
…..
Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.
The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.
The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.
“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”
His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”
You shrug and wink. “Close second.”
He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.
“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.
You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”
He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”
You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”
He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”
And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.
You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.
Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”
“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.
When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.
You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.
When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.
“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.
“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”
He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.
“Promise?” You ask, quietly.
He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.
The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.
bunnyrabb1t
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others
bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever
landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(
oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb
landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream
lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!
bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘
alex_albon hey. back off 🤺
oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️
bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️
charles_leclerc 🤨
carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you
notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11
(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)
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astroph1les · 6 months
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hitting all the bases [h.c]
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summary: after coming back for good from college, you catch up with your old school friends. hazel, your old crush and good friend, informs you that she’s a professional baseball player now. old feelings return and this time, you’ll be scoring. you’re sure of it.
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
contains: mature language and content, smut — oral (hazel receiving), fingering (r!receiving), light choking (r!receiving), praise, locker room sex, baseball player!hazel, fwb trope, isabel & josie being readers parents.
word count: 4.3K
a/n: im so sorry for posting this so late at night but i just had to share it. i sincerely apolgize if anything is wrong because i’m not a baseball fanatic. i hope you all enjoy. thank you <3
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You had been across states at university for the past nine months. You didn’t expect all of your friends from high school to be so excited to see you. It warmed your heart to know that they had set up and planned a ‘welcome home’ party.
Isabel, PJ, Josie, Brittany, Stella-Rebbeca, and Hazel had talked to your parents a week before your arrival day to decorate your house full of banners, balloons, snacks, and alcohol for you. You were elated with the overwhelming sound of fanfare and party poppers as you walked through the front door.
Of course, you hugged everyone in a tight and kind hug. You quickly ran to your room to change as you were in sweatpants and a plain shirt from the flight back. You didn’t want to socialize in clothes that had been clinging to your body for hours on end.
After you had gotten changed into a much more fitting outfit, you began to socialize with everyone.
Isabel and Josie were going on three years of being together, very happily which warmed your heart. Brittany gushed about how her jewelry business had been skyrocketing since your past leaving and offered to show you some pictures of her latest designs later. Stella was now hosting a self-defense class for women due to her stalker situation and PJ was working with Stella.
As you conversed with Hazel, you realized how she had only been getting more and more attractive as the years had gone by. Her hair was still that same mullet-rocker length and her sharp features only reignited that childhood crush you had on her in middle school.
When she had told you that she was in the National Baseball League, you swear you felt your panties dampen. Very briefly did you remember her interest in the sport in high school but didn’t think much of it then.
Everyone was already either tipsy or drunk, you and Hazel included. The two of you had made your way into your kitchen to grab some more of the margarita mix. The rest of the girls were blasting songs through your speakers on the TV.
“You know, I have a game this Sunday. You should come.” Hazel tilted her head as she held the solo cup in her ring-cladded fingers, taking a sip without her eyes leaving yours.
You sensed a flirty tone in her voice, cheeks heating up as you didn’t want to read too into it. You blamed it on the amount of alcohol for both your horniness and flushed cheeks.
“Of course, I’ll be there, Haze. I wouldn’t miss it.” You reach forward to place a gentle hand on her free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Guys, we’re doing shots!” Isabel stumbles in between you both to interrupt your conversation, the hold on both of your hands tightening. “Welcome back, babe!”
Isabel screeched at you over the sound of the blasting music to grab onto your free arm, giggling to herself. You send Hazel a soft smile before tugging her hand in yours.
“C’mon. It’s shot time.” You bite your lip as she chugs down whatever is in her cup to set it down on your kitchen counter.
Hazel followed you and Isabel, keeping her hand in yours. Anyone in your friend group would’ve seen that and brushed it aside as you and Hazel simply being the best ‘gal pals’. They had no idea how horny you were for her at that very moment.
Everyone gathered around the living room coffee table, an assortment of different colored clear shot plastic glasses. Hazel turned to you and wrapped your arms around each other, downing each other’s shots. A new intense form of eye contact that had never been exchanged between the two of you before.
Something enticing. Something you had to explore.
You didn’t see Hazel again the rest of the week. There was this yearning in your stomach at the thought of her. You would be a lying son of a bitch too if you hadn’t gotten off to her every night since then. Something in your heart and soul told you that you needed more than anything than to just fuck her.
You knew you had to fuck her brains out.
When Josie and Isabel had picked you up from your house on the way to Hazel’s game, you got wide eyes and stares from the couple.
“What?” You huffed out a laugh as you tugged open the backseat door, sticking your head into the car.
“Nothing. You look good.” Isabel grinned, eyes looking you up and down.
Maybe you wore the least amount of clothing possible to seduce Hazel before the game. You sported a cami and a pair of shorts that matched with her team's color. Yes, it was the lowest you could ever tug down a cami and yes, you weren’t wearing a bra. Your hair was styled into two French braids tied with ribbons of her team's colors at the end to keep the weight off of your neck.
“Oh, thanks, Bel.” You return the smile, reaching into your small purse that was tossed over your shoulder and applying a small amount of gloss to your lips.
There’s an unspoken tension in the air when they begin to drive off to the stadium. The soft sound of Livin’ On A Prayer hummed through the speakers of Josie’s car, you repeatedly checking your reflection.
There was a small part of you that was a bit nervous to initiate this. You had hooked up with a few girls in college but you were never going to see them again. You tried to not overthink as Josie started up a conversation between you and Isabel.
“So, you’ve never been to one of Hazel’s games?” Josie questioned, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror.
“Nope. Is she any good?” You ask them both, raising your eyebrows.
“Oh, she’s the best pitcher on the team,” Isabel adds, motioning to nothing in particular. “You should see how many girls absolutely drool over her during the game. Since she got recruited, she has become a gay awakening for so many women across the state.”
This made sense in your head, in all honesty. You are one of those women that Hazel had made a mentally permanent imprint on.
“Oh, yeah,” Josie added, nodding her head along with her girlfriend's words. “A lot of flashing too. PJ has to be physically restrained.”
You snort at her words, not doubting that whatsoever.
“Hazel hasn’t, like, been seeing anyone, right?” You slowly question as Josie makes her way to exit the highway to the stadium.
Isabel glanced at Josie before turning her head completely to look at you from the passenger's seat.
“Not that I know of. Babe?” Isabel turned to Josie who just shrugged in response.
You nod to yourself, checking your reflection one last time. Josie was finally pulling into the stadium’s parking lot entrance, paying for the entrance fee before going into a section that was reserved for certain guests: aka you and your friends as you were Hazel’s special guests.
Walking into the stadium, you were immediately met with what Josie and Isabel were talking about. You spotted many women — with a few select men — with Callahan jerseys and tops with her number plastered onto the back.
“C’mon. We get to sit near the dugout.” Josie motioned for you to follow her and Isabel.
Their hands were locked as followed behind the pair, glancing around. It had been quite the turnout for the game. You weren’t really that much of a ‘sports’ person. It’s not that you hated sports or anything like that. You were just never able to find the excitement behind it.
You were however much of a Hazel person.
“Did you want anything to eat before we go and sit?” Isabel turned her head to ask you as they were passing the array of small shops of food.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” You nod as your eyes spot the nachos on the bright light-up menu.
So, Isabel and Josie, after you had repeatedly insisted that you could pay, bought you your nachos and a large water bottle because of the heat. You rushed after them once you three heard the crowd start to go wild. You noticed on the multitude of screens that it was the teams getting into formation.
You make sure to keep a good grip on your plastic tray as you make your way past sweat-glistened fans. Isabel had grabbed onto your free hand to make sure you were right behind her as you made your way down the stairs to the area right behind the dugout.
There sat Brittany, Stella, and PJ all in the same sort of attire. Either Hazel’s jersey or colors to match the teams with a pair of jean shorts or pants.
“Hey guys!” You shout over the blasting music, waving at everyone.
They all reply back with smiles and holding their own snacks and beverages. You lean down to each of your friends to kiss them on the cheek, muttering ‘hello’ and ‘hi’. PJ stared directly at your chest, her ‘hi’ being distracted.
“In a totally respectful and non-dehumanizing and non-sexual way, you look hot as fuck.” You hear PJ tell you as you scoot over to say ‘hi’ to Stella.
You chuckle and shake your head. “Thanks, PJ.”
“Yeah, you look so good.” Stella gasps as she reaches to touch at the ribbons in your hair. “These are so cute.”
“Thanks, Stell.” You blush at the attention before making your way to Brittany.
Her hair was up in a ponytail, sunglasses rested on her nose and an ICEE in hand. She kissed your cheek as well, patting your back with a sigh.
“Britt, you okay?” You ask, releasing Isabel’s hand.
“Yeah, I just… hate the heat.” She groans and tilts her head up to expose her glistening neck.
You frown at her words before rummaging through your purse. You pull out a mini fan with a small spritz container that you had bought ages ago. Brittany tilts her sunglasses down to look at the device in your palms and groans even louder out of relief.
“Girl, thank you. I am actually sweating bullets and it’s not even cute glowing at this point.” Brittany kisses your cheek once more before grabbing the travel-sized fan.
“You’re welcome. Don’t overuse it or it’ll die quickly.” You pat her overheating shoulder once before making your way to sit right next to Josie.
Your eyes were darting from player to player, trying to spot Hazel. There, on the pitchers’ mound, she stood with a mitt covering one hand and a baseball in the other. She had eye black sitting underneath her deep blue glare, looking straight ahead at the batter that was at home plate.
Her jaw was moving slightly and you assumed it was chewing gum. You were focused more on her sharp jawline than the actual game. You watch her change her form to get ready to pitch, raising one leg before releasing the red-stitched ball right at the batter to maneuver right into the umpire's mitt.
The crowd cheers at that alone, the girls and you included. Hazel had an incredibly strong arm and aim from what you could tell. Everyone there was obsessed with her. You kind of felt bad for the other players on the team.
You were pretty zoned out which you know was not the best thing to do but again, you weren’t interested in the sports. You wanted how Hazel’s veins were practically popping from the back of her hands, her mean stare at whatever batter from the opposing team was up next.
It shouldn’t have made you as aroused as it did.
The score had been neck in neck before Hazel hit and ran the winning home run. The stadium erupted into cheers as you watched her run into her teammates’ arms, shouting and cheering herself. You stood up and screamed along with the rest of the girls, Josie turning to you and grasping onto your hands and squeezing them.
“Hell fucking yeah!” Josie shouted, causing you to laugh but match her enthusiasm.
After you watched as both teams went underneath the bleachers to what you assume were the locker rooms. You stood up carefully, smoothing down your top and grabbing your now empty tray of nachos.
“Where are you going?” Isabel questioned as you began to walk away.
Oh right. Other people can see you.
“I’m going to throw this away and go to the bathroom. I’ll be quick.” You reassure her, smiling kindly and nodding at everyone.
They all glanced at each other before all asking if you wanted them to come with you. On any other normal day, you would’ve happily said yes but these were different circumstances.
You were trying to fuck Hazel.
“No, no, no, guys. I-I’ll be okay. Text me if you guys need anything or you’re leaving.” You tell them and wave with a big smile.
You practically ran to the ‘bathroom’, maneuvering between the crowds of people to the security that was blocking the entryway to the backstage and locker room area. The bald man held a hand out as you approached with determination, a hand on his belt with his walkie-talkie and gun holster.
“Ma’am, this is a restricted area.” He shakes his head.
“No, I know. Hazel Callahan is a close friend of mine and she asked me to see her.”
His brows furrowed as he grabbed his walkie-talkie to tune into the feed.
“Hey, Brian. You got the list for Callahan's VIP guest list?” He asked through the mini speaker.
You sigh as you wait for the ‘okay’, looking at him impatiently. Without fail, he was given your name and unhooked the barrier to let you through. You make your way down the narrow hallways, following the signs to the locker rooms.
Your eyes found the women’s sign and gradually pushed the door open. You peeked your head into the locker room, glancing around to see if you could find Hazel between the bright blue metal.
You carefully walk into the room, shutting the door behind you. You hear a shower faucet shut off, followed by feet pattering.
“Hazel? Are you decent?” You called out into the space, your voice echoing slightly.
A second passes before you hear your name followed by; “yeah. Just follow my voice.”
You eventually find her about fifteen locker rows down and god, you could cum right there and then.
“Hey Haze,” you grin as you spot her in a wife-pleaser with a pair of boxer briefs in the locker room.
Hazel had a towel around her neck, rubbing at the back of her head to try her freshly washed hair. Your mind was running wild at the sight of her nipples peeking through the thin fabric. You were leaning against the dark blue lockers just a few feet away from her.
“Oh, hey,” she copied your grin, eyes following to the entrance of the locker room right behind you. “Is it just you?”
You hum with a nod, hands clasped behind your back as you slowly approach her.
“Yeah, I, uh, said I was going to the bathroom but I just wanted to see you,” you admit carefully.
You weren’t entirely sure if her sexual feelings matched yours. You were fighting every filthy urge to grab her and kiss her until you couldn’t breathe.
“Little ol’ me?” Hazel replied as she, too, began to walk over to you with a cheeky smile.
That fucking smile that drove you insane.
“Yeah, you.” You leaned in closer to her, now nearly face-to-face with the blue-eyed beauty.
“Ah, well,” she smacked her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, did you enjoy the game?”
“Yeah, you were really good, Haze. I see why your fan base is so crazy about you.” You tease as you are now resting your back against the cold lockers.
Hazel’s brows rose at the word ‘fan base’ which causes you to let out a chuckle mixed with a scoff.
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know how the majority of women here are dropping their panties and flashing the entire stadium for you.” You quip, mimicking her eyebrow raise.
Hazel looked down as she pursed her lips and she held back a smug smirk. If you held your breath, you could hear the pattering of feet coming from above from the hundreds of feet leaving the stadium.
“Would you be in that majority, honey?”
Hazel’s words take a minute to process in your head before a blush floods from the tips of your ears to the depths of your stomach. Your eyes widened slightly at her question, deciding on how you should answer.
You were now 100% sure that she wanted you too.
“Oh, sorry. You missed it but I did flash homeplate earlier.” You shrugged your shoulders but a teasing smile was left lingering on your lips.
“Oh, so, I guess you wouldn’t mind giving me a more private show,” Hazel quipped back, now centimeters from your face.
Your eyes flicker down to Hazel’s cupid's bow then back to her eyes that seemed to be drinking you in from head to toe. Growing impatient as ever, you hooked two fingers into her chain before tugging her into you. Your lips found hers with ease, her gasping at the pressure from the metal digging into the back of her neck.
Her hands greedily gripped onto your hips as you released her chain to rest your forearms onto her shoulders. You suck in a deep breath against her lips as her hands practically shoved your aching hips into the cold metal behind you.
“You know how long I’ve wanted you, pretty girl?” Hazel pulled away to whisper against your lips.
“You have me now, Haze.” Your hands brush against the hairs resting at the nape of her neck, a slight whimper in your words.
Hazel leans her head into the crook of your neck, kissing at the pulse point of your skin. You arch your back off the heavy lockers as you grip her slightly damp shoulders. Her lips suck and nibble at the skin before trailing back up to your slick lips.
“These are cute,” she cockily grins as she takes one hand from your hip to twirl her finger at the end of one of your pigtails.
You flush when she gives it a gentle tug, her smug grin growing. Did you let out a moan when she did that? You had assumed you did as Hazel muttered, ‘kinky’, before kissing you once again.
“Hey, hey, Haze?” You rushed out your words.
Hazel only hummed back placing a multitude of kisses across your flushed cheeks all the down to your heaving chest. Her hands reached underneath your top to grip your bare breasts.
“Haze, we really gotta hurry,” you heaved out as her lips were grazing right above your tits as she swiped her thumbs over your nipple.
“I hear you, honey.”
Her hands began to tug down your annoyingly sexy skirt, looking at you for confirmation as her fingers traced the waistband of your soft blue cotton panties. You nod eagerly, whimpering a desperate ‘please’.
Your skirt was now at your ankles which you stepped out of. You kicked it off to the side mindlessly as you watched Hazel dig her fingers into the waistband of your panties.
“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Hazel instructs, her free hand creeping up to your mouth.
You obey greedily and allow her middle ring finger to slip into your mouth. She groans softly as you suck at her digits, locking eyes with her seductively.
“Fuck me,” she mutters at the sight of you.
It was obscene how gorgeous you looked like this.
She suddenly removed her fingers from your mouth causing you to whimper at the loss. Her hand that had been in your mouth was now teasing through your already wet and puffy folds. You roll down onto her fingers, feeling desperate for her touch.
You both were still face to face but your gaze was nowhere on hers. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as she teased your entrance with her middle finger, eyes focused on your reactions.
“There we go, honey.” She praised your hips rocking, kissing at your jaw.
“Fuck, Haze,” you moan softly, jerking your head back so hard that it thumped against the lockers.
You couldn’t believe how amazing her fingers were. You daydreamed and late-night wet dreamed about it but nothing could compare to the feeling of her fingers curling and hitting your g-spot repeatedly.
Your whines were growing higher in pitch as you were already reaching orgasm. You had felt like you were edging yourself all day so this very moment was extremely overwhelming. With her lips nipping at your neck and jaw and her praises filling your ears, you were bound to cum soon.
“You really are fucking perfect, baby. These hips, this pretty pussy, god.” Hazel’s free hand was gripping onto your lower jaw.
Something deep within you caused you to reach for her wrist and slide it more down onto your throat. She instantly caught on and very lightly squeezed the sides of your windpipe, watching your eyes roll before shutting completely.
“I didn't think you’d be into choking,” Hazel teased as she gave your throat one more squeeze.
“Me neither.” You pant with a loud moan when Hazel begins to pick up her pace.
Your walls clench down onto her rapid fingers, aching for a release. You were surprised no one had been coming to check on either of you but you were entirely grateful.
“Is my pretty girl gonna come for me?” Hazel whines back, almost mocking your desperation for her.
You shouldn’t have been as turned on as you were by that.
You grab at her shoulders and rut your hips down onto her fingers. The pressure was building, running up your spine to the tip of your head that was now turning into mush.
“Please, please, Haze. I wanna cum all over your fingers.” You ramble out, feeling like you weren’t in control of your mouth.
Hazel’s lips graze over your own, panting heavily into your mouth. Sweat was forming at the crevice between your hips and your thighs as you continued to chase after her fingers, begging to cum.
“That’s it. That’s it, baby,” Hazel coos as your whines grow in volume.
Your orgasm arrived quickly, pressing your lips onto hers to try and conceal how loud your moans were. Your head was so clouded with lust and post-orgasm haze that you had completely forgotten the point of this.
You wanted to make Hazel cum.
“Haze,” your hands fly to her wrist to pause her movements. She does as she’s told and removes her touch from you. “I wanna make you feel good.”
Hazel followed your command and raised a hand to trace your reddening lip. You take her fingers that were covered in your arousal, sucking them off eagerly. Your chest was heaving rapidly as you eagerly reached for her hips, eyes locking with the bench that was only a few inches from the two of you.
“Let’s switch, c'mon.” You pressed yourself off the lockers to grab at her hips.
You shove her gently against the cool metal, eyes raking up and down her frame hungrily. Your eyes never leave hers as you begin to lower yourself down onto your knees. Hazel’s chest was panting, muttering curses as your fingers hooked onto her briefs to tug them down her toned thighs.
“How much longer do you think we have?” You questioned softly, placing feather-like kisses onto the skin.
“I really couldn’t care less.” Hazel huffed with a chuckle.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be quick,” you reassure her before locking your eyes on her exposed cunt.
You dive in without any hesitation, lapping your tongue through her folds. Hazel responds by gasping softly and resting both of her palms on either side of your head. You shut your eyes as you take in this moment that you’ve wanted for so long.
“Jesus, baby,” Hazel gasps as your tongue slips into her entrance.
Your motions pick up and slow down to tease her, a cocky smile creeping onto your lips. You continued to eat her out like you were a starved woman, your hands caressing up and down from her outer thigh to her upper torso.
You sucked on her clit, eyes locked on her dropped jaw and panting figure. Hazel wasn’t as vocal as you were but her groans and soft ‘fucks’ were enough to keep your pace.
“Keep doing that, baby. I’m so— fuck!— close.”
You eagerly obeyed her words, humming softly as you felt her grip on your hair tighten. Her hips roll down onto your tongue, faint curses leaving her puffy pink lips. They begin to stutter as her orgasm flows over her body, her cum dripping onto your tongue and lips.
Yes, your jaw was aching and your knees were on fire from the porcelain tile digging into your skin but seeing Hazel cum was more than worth it.
It was beautifully erotic.
Her damp hair framed her sharp and flushed features as she arched her back off of the lockers as she came all over your tongue. You slow your tongue as she rides out her orgasm, carefully removing your lips from her pulsating core.
You rose to your feet shakily. Hazel helped as her hands found her naked waist to keep you steady. You giggle to yourself as you press your lips to hers, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“So, how was the private show?” You hum as you lean back slightly to allow her to respond.
“I think I could get used to getting some more private shows from you, pretty girl,” Hazel pressed a few pecks onto your cheeks before capturing your lips onto hers.
Boy, were you grateful for locker rooms.
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tag list: @intotitties @rubygtb @dropsofs4turn @beabeebrie @maroonkisses @toritea @that-one-little-soybean @cherryflavoured7777 @vster0769
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sashiavi · 6 months
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•·····🍑······• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂 𝓣𝔀𝓸 ⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•······🍑·····•
𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 2023
#22•𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚡•#22
𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙺𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚑 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ⁴ᵏ
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He knew this was a bad idea, a horrible idea. A potentially illegal idea? Don't ask him, he wasn't a cop - He didn't particularly want to find out regardless. But. The warm huff of his girlfriend’s giggled breath on his hardening length. The flushed expression of the usually stoic man on his blaring phone screen. They almost make him forget about the passing headlights of cars and the dripping pipes puddling on the concrete of the graffitied alleyway. 
It all started, Kaveh muses, earlier that night.
The Bumbling bustle of the bar oddly soothes Kaveh's nerves, an all-familiar place with even more familiar people. [Name] and Kaveh went out on the town with Tighnari and Cyno, leaving Alhaitham back at their apartment. He mentioned he had some important thesis he had to work on - Kaveh thinks it was just an excuse to stay out of it. Alahitham was a homebody, a grumpy near agoraphobic man that could live the rest of his life in a hole - And he'd be happy, too. Kaveh and [Name] would probably join him, the pair never wandered far from the aforementioned man. He was their rock, or maybe a boulder, temperamental, shell cracking at every misadventure the pair strung him through. Sometimes though, Alhaitham came out with the sweetest affirmations and it sent Kaveh’s brain barreling down a never-ending flight of stairs.
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Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Kaveh’s phone buzzes on the table, lighting up with a message from his other half.. Or third? If his heart were a pie chart, he’d have a special place for both of his partners. All good things come in threes - or something - Regardless, his boyfriend texted him. And his girlfriend answers.
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The ever so punctuated Alhaitham lights up his phone screen with his demands. Kaveh swears his eyes hurt trying to read his texts. He was too inebriated for this, the words swirl into a muddly ball of squiggles. He ought to punch Alhaitham in the mouth.. With his mouth… Maybe later. 
“He’s no fun” [Name] pouts, swirling her deteriorating paper straw through her drink, mixing up the once rainbow assortment of liqueur into a muddy, watery red-brown. Kaveh watches his darling [Name] slump over the table, throwing her phone down, nearly knocking over his frozen margarita and whatever bizarre cocktail she decided to order herself. Tighnari gives a soft chuckle from across the table, eyes crunched with a sympathetic smile. 
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“Knowing him he’s missing you just as much [Name], he’s just not one for places like this, Cyno is the same.” Tighnari’s voice manages to cut through the live band playing away at some classic folk rock song everyone and their father knew. Speaking of; Cyno was nowhere to be seen - Long gone off to the bathroom or the bar.. Archons knows, that man was an enigma. Kaveh wasn’t sure he even existed in the first place, was Cyno real?
The ping on Tighnari’s phone nearly scares him. He shall appear Kaveh half recites in his head with an outward snort. He watches Tighnari with sleepy eyes, cheek pressed into the palm of his hand. The aformentioned man opens his phone with his thumb. He widens his eyes comically, quickly pressing the off button on the side of the device, nearly dropping it onto the table in his haste. [Name] squints at him from the table top, lips pursed and an eyebrow cocked. Tighnari clears his throat.
“Ah- Cyno messaged- He’s waiting for me in the bathro- uh I m-mean the back.. Room.. door- the back door! Cyno’s ready to leave.. I’ll see you guys around? G-Get home safe!” Tighnari stumbles of of his stool, most definitely not making his way towards the exit of the building. Kaveh blinks, sipping his frozen marg that was not-so-frozen anymore - Alright then. He side eyes his girlfriend, giving her a look - Are you seeing this?
“They’re gonna fuck” [Name] falls into a pit full of giggles, wrapping her lips around her straw, drinking up the watery thing this place called a cocktail. At least someone said it. 
“I couldn't have said it more eloquently myself..” Kaveh says, sipping into the last ounce of liquid in his glass with a bubble of his straw. Mm tequila. Yuck.
“I’ll be back in a sec, Kaveyy~ Gotta go bathroom..” [Name] hops off of her stool and disappears into the crowd. Kaveh sighs, blinking his way back into the land of the sober. He nurtures her drink with the instinct of a mother pigeon, fending for her young in the big bad city. No harm shall come to this watered down mystery juice, not on his watch. He feels the burn of alcohol in his cheeks, the subtle sway of his body as he sits and stares. Much like going to the bathroom at a house party, stuck alone for a second to really take in just how drunk you feel. The horrible feeling is quick to dissipate when [Name] comes weaving through the crowd, back over to their little table. She had a quirk about her, a sly look in her eye, twitch on her lip.
“Welcome back,” Kaveh hands her, her drink. She graciously takes it with a sweet kiss to his cheek, staining his face with her lipstick. Kaveh gets awfully suspicious when she pulls out her phone, pressing her face to his own and snapping a cute selfie, sticky lipstick stain on full show. She pulls back with a giggle, grinning down at her screen nearly pressing it to her nose. Kaveh doesn't have to inquire, she’s quick to let him in on her mischief.
“‘Nari and Cyno gave me an idea~” [Name’s] eyes looked far too awake for the time of night. Kaveh cocks a brow, squinting at her phone screen as she swipes between her gallery pictures. He sees her in all her glory, somehow managing to look absolutely insatiable in the dingy bar bathroom. Tiny dress slipped half off, pretty lips parted with her tongue poking out just enough, a dangerous glint in her eyes. He sucks in a breath, he really shouldn't get so worked up - Like a greasy school boy that caught a glimpse of a teacher's underskirt. Not that he ever did that. He ignores how his pants grow a little tighter.
“You went to the bathroom to take nudes?” He reaches for a napkin to wipe his face. [Name] rolls her eyes, sipping the last of her drink.
“Lewds, Kaveh” She earnestly corrects him with a pout, rolling her eyes as if he should have known the difference. Seemed nude enough to him.
“What, you have a secret third partner you're not telling us about?” He teases her. [Name’s] pout grows into a playful scowl, gently shoving his shoulder.
“Yeah, and they’re way prettier than you~” She bites back with a smile, shaking her head and falling into a pit of giggles that Kaveh couldn't help but join in.
“Should I send them?” She leans back in, zooming in and out on the pictures she snapped.
“To your new plaything?” Kaveh smirks. [Name] groans dramatically.
“No- To ‘Haithem. ‘Wanna tease him..” She giggles and nods her head, eyes glinting in mischief. It could be fun, Kaveh muses. He could make a hobby out of getting on Alhaitham’s nerves - Respectfully of course, he still loved him after all. 
“Tease him? He won’t be happy when we get back.. Puppy” His voice drops low, eyebrow raised with a cheeky smirk. He notices her visibly shift, mouth turned in a downturned smile, eyes squinting back at him.
“All the better, no?” She comes back at him. Touche. “C’mon, lets go now~” She beckons under his chin, pressing her finger into his skin, lifting his head with a quick flick. If she asked him to get down on his knees and bark, he’d probably do it. Who’s the puppy now - It's Kaveh.
The pair leave the bar and stand on the sidewalk by the building, [Name] eagerly scrolls through her pictures, biting her lip in an attempt to conceal her grin. She asks for his opinion, and he opts for something a little more modest, with at least some of her clothes on for imaginative purposes. She rolls her eyes at him, saying Alhaitham couldn't picture the colour green let alone a human. The two come to a compromise, pick one each and send off the cute selfie with her lip stain on Kaveh’s cheek. 
Kaveh slips his hand in hers as they begin to make the walk home, not before letting Alhaitham know -  With a little treat attached.
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Kaveh doesn't even have to press the call button, Alhaitham’s name pops up bright on his screen. [Name] giggles again, hanging off of Kaveh’s arm. He swipes the answer button, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Love” Kaveh, feigns innocence in his voice, flicking his eyes to the little minx next to him.
“Is [Name] with you?” Alhaitham’s voice is ever deadpan through the speaker, the man had a knack for indifference, but Kaveh could see through it every time.
“Of course-” Kaveh starts before being hastily cut off.
“Good. Put her on please.” He sounds tense. Not the angry I'm about to blow tense. The other tense. Still about to blow - Just in an all new fashion. Kaveh masks a laugh with a sigh, handing over the phone to his other-other half. Third? He hands his phone to [Name].
“Nawhhh ‘Haitham do you miss us?” She opens the call with a sweet voice, swinging Kaveh's arm as they walk the dusky city streets. Kaveh strains to hear Alhaitham's droning voice, crackling through the speaker pressed to his beloved's ear, muffled and illegible. He can only listen to [Name], hearing half of their conversation through her replies- not that she said anything other than; various versions of 'mmhm'.
"Uhuhh~ oh? really?... Yeah..?" Her tone of voice steadily becomes more sultry with every word she speaks. A tingle runs down Kaveh's tummy, right into his groin. Curse the effect this wretched witch - his beloved beautiful girlfriend - Had on his body. He intakes a deep breath of city air, trying to keep vigilant of their surroundings, half purposely ignoring their call to calm the ache in his pants.
“Just can’t wait until we get home, huh..?” [Name] continues, voice suddenly sobered up. For some reason it turns him on more, being half ignored between their heated ministrations. He can only imagine what Alhaitham could be saying, and it riles him up all the more. The anticipation of what's waiting for him at home doesn't help - He knows what Alhaitham is like. If they fuck around, they’ll definitely find out. The consequences will be laid out for them. Regardless of who starts it, Alhaitham ends it.
Kaveh is jolted out of his running thoughts by a tug on his arm. [Name] leads him on with a giggle, down a street or two, right into a secluded passage nestled between two apartment buildings. Kaveh reels his head together, coming to so quick he swears he gives himself whiplash. [Name] presses her glossy lips to his own, pashing him loud and wet right into the receiver of the phone. Kaveh’s head was reeling, crotch most definitely bulging at the seam of his pants. He hears a faint groan through the phone, just as [Name] bites down on his plump lips, eliciting his very own keening noise.
She pulls off of him, lips wet with a sticky string of saliva, still connecting their lips together. He watches it glisten under the dim street light, snapping and joining the slick gloss adorned on her lips. His girl bites at his neck, huffing little giggles as she sinks her teeth into his milky flesh. Gods he can barely keep quiet, whimpering softly, fluttering his pretty carmine eyes closed. There's a scuffle over the line, a sound of fabric shifting through the speaker of the phone.
“Kaveh” There's a sweet whisper in his ear, sending the most delicious shiver down his spine, nearly making his knees weak. He finds the voice, his darling girlfriend, eyes full and swimming with something he was all too familiar with. There's a short beep and a phone is stuffed into his hands, video call on, camera faced to the ground. Alhaitham’s face is on the screen, brows scrunched up, eyes searching the dark picture of the video.
“Make sure I look pretty” [Name] bites her lip with a giggle, trying to mask her cheeky smile. Gods didn't she always, it was near impossible for her not to be. She lowers herself to the dirty concrete floor of the alleyway, hands already easing into the loops of Kaveh’s pants. He's hyper aware of their surroundings - distant chatterings of drunk party goers, the beaming lights of a taxi driving by. His eyes strain at the bright phone screen, nearly fumbling to keep the video steady.
“Watch him.. Make sure he touches himself~” [Name] purs against the bulge in his pants. Alhaitham watches closely as she fumbles with Kaveh’s button, unzipping his pants. She hooks her fingers into his waistband, clenching her palms into the fabric as she pulls them down his frame. Kaveh hisses, feeling the hot pressure of his trousers become replaced by a cool spike of air. [Name] fingers into his briefs on her way down, revealing the soft skin of his groin to the video. With a giggle she fully releases him, his pretty cock slaps into his tummy with a soft noise, leaving a sticky bead of pearlescent pre on his dress shirt. He hears a crackled moan through the phone speaker and his eyes are on Alhaitham. The man bites at his lip, squeezing the base of his thick length, face slowly being overconsumed by a warm red blush.
Kaveh can't decide where to look - Past the phone and down at his pretty girl? Or into the video feed on Alhaitham’s shaky camera angle. He fails to decide when he feels a hot huff of breath on his cock. [Name] kisses at his flushed pink tip, smearing the last of her sticky lip gloss all over his velvety head. Kaveh’s mouth falls open, eyes squinting down at the pretty girl below him. His grip on the side of the phone tightens as he captures her licking her tongue flat on the underside of his length, sending a hot pulse right into Kaveh’s achy cock. He bites back a soft moan, eyes already getting bleary and teary. Gods he was sensitive, and didn't she know it. He eyes Alhaitham’s expression, his lips parted ever so slightly, teeth biting into the side of his cheek. He watches as the usually stoic man breaks ever so delicately. It's something Kaveh had come to absolutely relish.
Kaveh nearly cries, his sensitive tip suddenly engulfed by the pretty girl on her knees, kissing at the back of her eager throat. She swallows around him, gagging hot over his pretty cock, forcing fresh tears to bubble in her eyes. Gods she looked almost pornographic. Mascara already beginning to turn into a black liquid mess under her eyes, threatening to stream down her cheeks. She drools over his cock, taking him back and forth, always swallowing his flushed tip down her warm throat. She eyes the phone camera, raising a brow she pulls off of his length, blowing a cheeky kiss towards Alhaitham. 
“Wish you were here~” She mockingly pouts at the man on the phone, eagerly taking Kaveh back down her throat. Kaveh keens out loud, moaning high from his throat with his head tilted back into the rough, graffitied brick wall. Gods she was rough, rougher than she ever was with him, was she teasing them? Showing Alhaitham exactly what he was missing out on? Was this how she took his cock? Rough and dirty and eager - Completely unlike the soft, doting way she wraps her lips around his own cock. Alhaitham crunches his brows, front teeth clenched with his lips parted in a scowl, Kaveh watches him stroke his thick length, the flushed velvet tip barely coming into the frame of the video.
“Makin’ a mess of yourselves in public huh? Trying to tease me? Better not come back here… If you know what's good for you..” Alhaitham’s voice babbles through the phone, playing along with [Name’s] little game. They all knew exactly what would transpire the second they walked through the door. It only eggs [Name] on further. It's her turn to moan, garbling around Kaveh’s long, pretty length as she takes him. She makes a show of sinking down on Kaveh, kissing at the base of his length, pretty eyes gazing up into the camera. Her mascara was running, pooling down her cheeks as she looked up at Alhaitham, purposely going out of her way to show him up. There's that feeling again, the burn in his tummy as he’s caught between their teasing, their little toy to rile each other up.
Gods it's nearly too much, Alhaitham’s eager shake of his shoulder as he jerks himself off, on show for only Kaveh to see. His cock aches and tenses as [Name] takes him down, rocking her whole body into him, suckling at him sweetly before fucking him with her throat. He cant take his eyes off of them, albeit blurred form the little pin pricking tears that well up in the corners of them. He stares through the phone screen, through the little square on the phone, eyes darting between [Name] and Alhaitham.
“[Name]... Haitham- [Na-].. Won't last..!” Kaveh’s hand wobbles, he was quickly certainly becoming the worst cinematographer in the world. [Name] rakes her palms over his cool, milky skin, caressing him with some ounce of her usual softness she leaves for him. A hot shiver runs straight into his groin, he can't help but thrust his hips forward, spearing his tip down her eager throat. She keens around him, swallowing hard on him, taking him deeper and faster his brain could barely keep up. 
“Gonna come? Poor baby's gonna come..? Look at what you've done [Name].. Dragging poor Kaveh into your little game..” Alhaitham’s voice mocks them through the phone. That's right.. Poor Kaveh.. All caught up between their silly game. His eyes work double time trying to focus on the two, Alhaitham’s looney expression, slightly pixelated from the horrendous phone reception in the small walls of the corridor. [Name’s] eager expression, lips wrapped around his cock, lead and wet and slobbery. He throws his head back, he couldn't bear to watch them, lest he make a mess of himself. 
He feels a hand on him, cupping at his balls, tender and ticklish - He feels himself tense, embarrassed at the man watching and hearing him through the phone, coming close from the pretty girl drooling over his cock. Gods, his brain was running overtime, absolutely reeling at everything it could. The flickering light above them, the headlights that stopped for far too long for his liking, the dripping pipe to his right. The warm engulf of his pretty girlfriend’s mouth around his aching cock, the usually aloof man in his phone, staring right at his groin with his own cock in his hand.
Kaveh’s cheeks burn, his balls ache and cock tenses hard. Gods, he was done for, unable to reel in the spike in his groin. His free hand comes down to his girlfriend’s hair, threading through the strands in an attempt to have her slow down. She manages to giggle, pushing past his attempt and suckling ever so sweetly against his hot tip. Kaveh whines and keens out loud, hiccupping in hot embarrassment, eyes finally allowing the warm tears to streak down his cheeks. He thrusts, he can't help it, giving in to [Name’s] pleasure, taking her mouth with his cock as Alhaitham watches through the camera. God he was sure he would never live this down, but he couldn't care - Not when his sweet girlfriend looks so pretty on his cock, not when Alhaitham chants through the speakers, commanding him to let go, to come for him.
Kaveh throws his head back, knocking his skull into the hard wall. He moans with an open mouth, spit hot on his tongue as his cock twitches hard. He can barely make out a short ‘Cumming-!’ before his sticky mess coasts [Name’s] tongue. He cums thick, milky ropes, whimpering as she suckles sweetly on him, edging all of his sweet, sticky cum out of him. Her tongue rolls over his achy slit, lapping up the pebbling spurts of cum that pulse from his cock.
[Name] makes a cheeky show of lapping at his pretty cockhead, tongue coated in his milky cum, smearing it all over himself. She sticks her tongue out for the camera, for Alhaitham to see, hot and milky, nearly dribbling off of her. She giggles and suckles at his swollen tip, swallowing around his overstimulated cock, earning a hot whine from his throat. [Name] stands from the dirty concrete, knees flushed and covered in a mystery dust. She snatches the phone from Kaveh, pulling him into a filthy, spitty kiss, swapping his creamy mess between them. She makes sure Alhaitham’s watching, peering her eyes to the side, seeing Kaveh’s fucked out, flushed face in the corner square as she kisses into him. Kaveh knew he surely looked a mess, lips swollen and teeth bitten, nose red with blush, eyelashes wet and stuck together. He can't bear to look.
Alhaitham practically growls, surely cumming in his own palm as he watches them swap Kaveh’s sweet, salty mess. He babbles, telling them that they’re filthy, they're in for it, pretty little things couldn't even keep to themselves. No wonder, he can barely keep himself from them regardless. [Name] pulls away first, nipping at Kaveh’s nose before turning to the man on call.
“Muah! Love you Haitham~ See you soon” She cheekily bites her lip, hastily shutting off the video call before the man could even get a word in. she crouches down, helping Kaveh re-dress himself. Oh the shame, he cannot bear to leave the sanctuary that is the dusty alleyway. His tummy flips at the idea of coming home to Alhaitham, maybe he could worm his way out? He was a victim - Just a bystander! The phone buzzes again, and [Name] giggles, shutting off the ringer and taking Kaveh’s hand into her own.
“C’mon~ Haitham is waiting~” She plants a hot kiss to his lips before dragging through the street once again.
“I don't know if I wanna ever see him again after that..” Kaveh pouts dramatically, heart pulsing in anticipation as [Name] punches in their building code. Here goes nothing, he supposes.
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Hi, hello, welcome to November 😔
We're truly holding on by a thread here girlies-
Lmk if you enjoyed! Idk how I feel about this one- also idk if I regret making those texts- sksksjsh tumblr wasn't formatting them in like wOrd form how I wanted so I, for some reason created my own lmaoo
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Thank You For Reading! I Really Appreciate Comments! Let Me Know Of Any Mistakes or Tell Me If You Enjoyed! I Love Responding To Everyone ♡
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wardenparker · 3 months
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Hurry Home
Frankie Morales x female reader x Santiago Garcia
Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Reader is described as wearing feminine clothing and having hair long enough to run fingers through. Fluff. Domesticity. Food/alcohol. Oral sex (m receiving), mention of shower sex. Summary: A small snapshot of an established poly relationship. Notes: There is no world in which I do not want to be in a poly marriage with Frankie and Pope. End of story. I hope you enjoy!
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The light in the living room is still on when you come through the door; the smell of long-cooked chili wafting from the kitchen where unwashed dishes sit waiting for the morning. You drop your purse in its traditional place on the little table by the door and immediately reach down to pry the high heels off your aching feet. Too many damned meetings have fried your brain and left you craving a hot dinner and sweet cuddles. Thankfully, that delicious smell from the kitchen and the sound of Yellowstone on the television in the living room mean that Santiago is home. Alas, the gentle snoring means he has fallen asleep on the sofa.
Intent on not waking him up, you decide not to turn on the light and move soundlessly around the kitchen in your stockings and dress, glad to have rejected your heels at the door. Santi’s chili is your favourite comfort food. It’s spicy enough to clean out your sinuses but so complexly flavored that he completely betrays his years of culinary school every time he makes it. And he never minds that you scoop it up in half a bag’s worth of convenience store tortilla chips every time you need that next level comfort. Tonight, you pour absurd amounts of cheap tequila and margarita mix into a novelty pint glass and tap the microwave button to stop the heating cycle before it beeps too loudly across the apartment.
You reach blindly over to grab a spoon out of the drawer and have one plopped into your hand instead. “Jesus Christ!” You hiss, snatching your hand away and just barely managing not to drop the flatware.
The snickering giggle from your right isn’t Santi’s.
“Frankie!” You almost shriek, face splitting into an immediate smile and throwing your arms around his neck without a second lost.
 “Shh! Shhhh, love.” Frankie wraps his arms tight around your waist, breathing in the faded strains of your expensive perfume. “Santi’s sleeping.”
“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, smiling against his skin. He’s already stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers from whatever he’d put on that morning and he looks good enough to eat. Damn the chili, Frankie is a whole three course meal in his own right.
“I rescheduled for an earlier flight.” It sounds almost confessional, the way he quietly whispers in your ear. “I missed you.”
“Mmm,” The hum comes up from the back of your throat. “We missed you, too.”
“Is that why you have the world’s largest and saddest margarita in that glass?” Frankie smirks, raising one eyebrow at the glass on the counter next to your bowl. That awful sugary bottled cocktail mix only sneaks its way into your home when Frankie is away. As a former bartender he finds it fully offensive, but he knows you like sticky sweet drinks.
“Give me a break,” you beg, pouting fiercely. This is why you were having such a big drink tonight – not only because of the day you’d had at work but to empty the bottle before his return. “I had four meetings today, I earned this sugary tequila.”
Frankie knows how hard you work, constantly proving yourself day-in and day-out in an office full of men where you are the best educated in the room but always last to get a new client. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m only teasing.” He plies you with a soft kiss, letting it deepen when you sigh to let him in. Your reunions are like this more often than not now, after almost a decade together. In the beginning you would be fucking against a wall within minutes of the door closing, so desperate to feel each other’s touch again after a business trip or other time away that you had ruined a fair few pieces of clothing in moments of enthusiasm.
Now you linger together and let yourselves melt into each other, usually ending up going to bed early with a bottle of wine. When Santi had become a part of your romantic lives, you had become oddly more domestic, but you all quietly agreed that that was due to age and not a loss of passion. In fact, the only odd thing about it was that it had taken so long. For as close as Frankie and Santi had always been, it had taken the three of you going camping for a long weekend for something to finally happen.
Soft became sensual becomes hungry, and proof of that passion shows itself in you shoving Frankie’s hips against the kitchen counter so you can drop to your knees in front of him in synchrony with his boxers hitting the tiled floor.
“Goddamn.” Frankie’s long, thick fingers flex insistently against the base of your skull, not scratching or pulling, but encouraging as he drinks in the sight of you in the glowing shadow of the flickering living room television.
You have only gotten more gorgeous as you’ve gotten older, growing from an adorable little imp to an elegant and confident woman who owns her curves instead of hiding them. He’s always loved your body in every form, but he loves even more the way you’ve come to love yourself. With that confidence in yourself had come even more confidence as a lover – and he is more than okay with that. He simply wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t show you the vocal appreciation he has for your skills with your tongue. “Fuck, baby girl,” he moans, humming so deeply that he practically purrs.
“You know he’s just going to keep taking more out of town jobs if this is how he gets greeted at home.” Santi’s sleep-thick voice joins the rather obscene sound of your mouth leaving Frankie’s cock and your eyes flick up to Santi with an amused glint.
“Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t give him the same hello?” You tease. These men always make you smile. And moan. They always make you moan.
“Of course not.” Santi’s hand goes to his chest in mock affront before he leans down to nip at your bottom lip. “I gave him a good fuck in the shower. Obviously.”
“And I’m the one who’s spoiling him?” On your knees with Frankie’s length in one hand, you reach for the waistband of Santi’s joggers with the other and feel your smile go lopsided as your eyes grow darker. “I’ll spoil both of you, then.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” Frankie apologizes by pulling Santi in close, untangling one of his hands from your hair only to catch it up in the other man’s equally thick locks as they come together in a kiss. You’ll lavish them with attention here and then they will bring you to bed where they have space to work over every inch of you – the three of you falling asleep in a sweaty pile of satisfied partners.
When Santi had joined your family, you and Frankie had become a little more domestic. You had found the piece of your marriage that you hadn’t known was missing in a clever, loving third partner, and now you can’t imagine your lives without him.
______
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mistydeyes · 10 months
Text
have a drink
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summary: It's December and things have finally wrapped up. Laswell sends you and your squad on mandatory leave. Not having any plans, Alejandro invites you to his ranch in Mexico and you book the next flight there. You use this opportunity to put your bartending skills to use and prepare seven drinks to go along with dinner.
pairing: 141 x platonic!reader (codename: Brandy)
warnings: swearing, alcoholism
a/n: just a little psa but apparently mixing light and dark liquor is a myth! regardless, please still drink responsibly
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With Zyani assassinated and the bombs disarmed, Laswell decided that it was time for your squad to relax. Before you all could make any plans, Alejandro invited you back to Mexico for a relaxing leave. Not wanting to return to the cold and rainy London climate, everyone agreed on the offer.
As you walked off the airplane, you saw Alejandro and Rodolfo waiting for you with their car. "Bienvenido de nuevo!" Alejandro greeted you as you approached. Hugs and fist bumps were all in order before you piled into the vehicle.
"So what's for dinner?" Gaz asked as Alejandro drove to the countryside. "Carnitas tacos, I have the carnitas in a slow cooker now," he replied, "but Brandy has the drinks covered." With that, everyone's heads turned towards you in the backseat. "You bartend, Brandy?" Ghost asked. "I did actually, best bartender in all of London. When I joined the SAS a buddy gave me the name but now everyone just thinks of that Looking Glass song or the porn star," you joked. "Anyways, I got something special for y'all tonight!" you exclaimed to the cheers of the men.
You, Alejandro, and Ghost went to do some errands as Rudy entertained the rest of the 141 at the beach. You and Alejandro had some items to pick up and Ghost tagged along, saying something about how sunburn and a mask don't mix well. Regardless, you were happy to have someone hold your boxes of liquor. As you navigated the small store, you grabbed everything on your list. By the end of it, you had enough to kill a small town. "Think this is enough, Brandy?" Ghost asked as the cashier helped to box everything. "Definitely," you replied as you loaded the cart, "Scared you won't be able to handle it, Ghost? I've got 7 drinks all lined up." Ghost was excited at the prospect of having liquor after months but feared your capabilities.
When you returned to Alejandro's home, you saw it was a spacious ranch. He was kind enough to let you bartend behind his outside bar and led you outside. You admired the scenery as you looked to see a bar formed from clay along with a dining table and fire pit with many seating options. "I can see what a Colonel's salary can get you," you joked as he gave you a tour of the property. "Mi casa, tu casa," he replied and you went back inside to help him and Ghost with dinner.
As you heard your squad relax and enjoy some tapas, you went behind the bar and prepared for the night. You organized it as you remembered it in your civilian days and placed the liquor behind you, on display. "Oi is that tequila?" you heard Soap say as you brought out a bottle of Patron. "Trust me, MacTavish you'd never know once I'm done with it," you replied and left him grumbling that tequila tasted like dog piss. You finished setting up and lined seven margarita glasses on the counter.
alejandro: ranch water
"Alright, if you all would like to come over here, I'll show you how a real bartender does it," you exclaimed and the men came to gather in front of the bar. Alejandro joined moments later once he had checked on the carnitas in the slow cooker.
"For our lovely host, I will serve you 'ranch water'," you said and brought out the ingredients. "¿Qué?" Alejandro asked as he took off his apron. "Ale, we're on a ranch in Mexico, this drink is clearly for you," you joked. You rimmed the cups with Tajin before filling the seven cups with ice. Working quickly, you then filled your shaker with blanco tequila, Topo Chico, and fresh lime juice. You threw in some fun tricks like throwing the shaker over your shoulder, much to the amusement of your crowd. You finally garnished with a freshly squeezed lemon. "Se sirven bebidas," you said and let everyone grab a glass. "Tastes better than any water from this ranch," Alejandro joked and quickly finished his glass. To your annoyance, Soap still complained he could taste the tequila. "Not with this next one!" you said and prepared for Rudy's drink.
rudy: el diablo
For Rudy, you picked El Diablo and had a fun trick to wow the audience. As the men finished their beverages, you finished your ranch water and collected what you needed. In this went reposed tequila, creme de cassis, lime juice, and ginger beer. "What's this?" Gaz asked as he collected the glasses for you. "El Diablo," you said, and before you could explain the namesake, Ghost responded, "The Devil." You poured out the shaker into glasses as the men slowly went to take one. "Just wait," you said before adding the smallest bit of tequila on top of a candied lemon and pulling out a lighter. Everyone was surprised as you went about lighting each of the glasses one by one. As the flames danced on their faces you joked to Rudy, "Still can't believe Ale had to run and save you from that house fire." You all shared a good laugh as you enjoyed your drinks. "You are right, Brandy, this doesn't taste like dog piss," Soap joked and you gained an 'I told you so'.
price: smoked old fashion
Everyone was still going strong so while they finished, you prepared the drink you picked for Price. This required a different glass and Rudy delivered a lowball glass to the counter. This drink was a classic so you made it easily. A smoked old fashioned with water, bitters, and a sugar cube to start then followed by bourbon and a smoke top. As you let the sugar cube melt with the water and bitters, you found your seven smoke tops. No one knew where 1. you got those from and 2. why you had so many. The group crowded around you again as you filled six glasses with ice and poured the shaker into them. "Neat, am I right, Captain?" you asked glancing at him, you knew the answer. "Got me pinned, Sergeant," he replied and put his hands up defensively. Once all the drinks were poured, you touched some wood chips in the smoke top and let it settle for two minutes. You then gestured for the group to take their drinks and savor the smoky cocktail. As Price took a sip he made sure to send his compliments. "Better than any Old Fashioned I could get in London."
You saw everyone take a minute to drink the bourbon, except for Price and Ghost of course, so you were glad this was the last drink before dinner.
You sat sipping your old-fashioned as Alejandro emerged with the fixings for tacos. He unveiled a pot of slow-cooked carnitas and the aroma wafted in the late-night air. He sat down at the head of the table and lifted his glass. "To good company and good food!" he said and you all echoed your sentiments. You started with a tortilla and carnitas piled on with a side of Mexican rice. Then, the fixings were passed along. You made sure to pile guacamole, onions, salsa, sour cream, cilantro, and hot sauce onto the carnitas and tortillas. You passed the hot sauce to Gaz and Alejandro last as they were known to douse their food. Once everyone had prepared their plates, you all dug in. Needless to say, Alejandro was an amazing cook. You all got seconds as the food was delicious. In the middle of dinner, you prepared everyone another round of El Diablos and sat in lively conversation. You heard about how Gaz learned Laswell was married and Soap interjected with plans for a new tattoo. Just when Ghost was about to ask about El Sin Nombre, Price quieted him. "No work, talk here," he said and the conversation flowed on as everyone talked about their plans.
gaz: aviation (a/n i'm currently drinking this while writing lol)
After your delicious meal, you got up from the table to prepare the next drink. This was a classic and easily earned anyone's respect when they ordered it. You mixed gin, maraschino liqueur, creme de Violette, and lemon juice in your shaker as you gathered some coupe glasses. "What this now?" Rudy asked as he came to keep you company. "An Aviation for our favorite flight jumping Sergeant," you joked and Gaz eyed you. You filled the glasses with a gorgeous purple liquid and garnished some cherries soaked in brandy. Rudy helped you to bring the drinks to the table and you handed them out. "This is an Aviation, a drink made for Kyle and his habit of falling out of flying objects," you joked and raised your glass in a toast. "It was Nik's fault," Gaz replied defensively but enjoyed the drink immensely. You wouldn't be surprised by the end of this if they all had a new drink of choice.
soap: irish car bomb
You had now moved over to a campfire following dinner. Rudy's abuela had graciously gifted you all with some homemade flan and you were glad this paired with the next drink in line. Instead of grabbing glasses, you found seven-shot glasses. Alejandro was probably planning on having a big family based on the countless amounts of glasses and dinnerware he had. You beckoned Soap over to watch you make the shots. You could see his eyes light up when you first grabbed Guinness. "Now I know you're Scottish and there's apparently a big difference between you and the Irish but I promise you, you'll like this," you said and he laughed at the statement. As he followed your movements, you added Baileys and whiskey to the glasses, pouring slowly to form a distinct layer. You then topped it off with the Guinness. You gave the remainder of the bottle to Soap as you called everyone over. "Time for shots!" you yelled and everyone came to the bar. "Just drink it all in one," you said and prompted the men to try. Once done, everyone asked for seconds and you hesitantly poured seeing how Rudy and Gaz were getting slightly red and weren't walking straight. You made sure to portion the glasses accordingly and filled yours, Price's, and Ghost's to the brim.
ghost: dark n' stormy
You served Ghost's drink an hour after the shots as everyone was clearly inebriated. Alejandro had led everyone into an old Spanish campfire song and Rudy, Gaz, and Soap were singing the loudest. As you sat and enjoyed the show, you scooted over to Ghost who was watching to the side. "The things liquor can do," you mused as he sipped the rest of Soap's Guinness. "The things your bartending can do," he corrected and you could see Price getting a video of the singing men. "You feeling drunk, Lt.?" you joked and nudged his arm. "Not drunk enough" he replied and you got up to the bar. "Well let's change that."
You placed seven highball glasses in front of you and prepared Ghost's drink as he watched. You traded some holiday traditions as you poured rum and the rest of the lime juice and ginger beer into the cups. "My family always wanted something to drink with Christmas dinner so naturally I became their bartender in my teens," you told him as you garnished with a lime wheel. "Good to know you have a plan after retirement," he replied before interrupting yet another song and calling everyone over. You raised your glass when everyone gathered and delivered a quick toast. "To Lt, the dead man walking who saved Soap's ass," you said and everyone cheered in agreement. You watched happily as Ghost drank the cocktail slowly and prepared another. You made sure to make this a double as you wanted him to enjoy it.
brandy: super shot
Following the last round of drinks, you could tell everyone was feeling a little warmer. You and Price laughed wildly as Ghost and Rudy tried to impersonate someone driving a taxi. You all formed groups (Group 1 - you and Price, 2 - Ghost and Rudy, 3 - Alejandro, Soap, and Gaz) to play charades. "Beep, beep," Ghost kept saying as he mimicked driving, Rudy pretending to be a businessman in the back. Maybe it was the liquor but Alejandro's team was clearly not getting it. "Fuck me, we'll pass," Gaz said as the turn went to you and Price. "He's a bloody taxi driver," Price answered, and audible groans were heard from Soap and Gaz. "I think we won, Captain," you said and shared a high five. Before any more games could start, you prepared the next drink.
"Now before the finale, does anyone want refills?" you asked and everyone's hands shot up. You made sure to add a little more mixer to Rudy's, Soap's, and Gaz's before making everyone their appropriate cocktails and shots. After everyone had finished, you made a glass of an Aviation for yourself.
Now thoroughly drunk, the men anxiously waited to see your creation. "I call this a 'Brandy Special'," you said before placing a bottle of Bacardi, Hennessy, and Everclear on the counter. "FUCK NO" Gaz yelled drunkenly and Price and Rudy also shook their heads upon seeing the Everclear. That only left Alejandro, Ghost, Soap, and you. "Your loss," you said as you mixed the ingredients and pulled out four cleaned shot glasses. Price took a quick photo of you four before you all cheered your glasses.
Let's just say the Brandy Special is now banned from Alejandro's house. You and Ghost survived while Alejandro and Soap went to empty their stomaches in the yard.
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
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Texas State Fair
TF 141 + Alejandro going to the Texas State fair with Gigs
Just me on my Crack Head Shit again! Don't take anything seriously
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• After a far too hard of a mission you decided the guys all needed to lay low and get a fun treat- So you took them to your home to stay till their flights back over the pond.
• Back at your home you had them set up in your guest rooms and livingroom.
• Of course treated them with the upmost hospitality you decided to let them have a little fun.
• Starting of course with a hearty breakfast for the bunch
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• "Fucking Hell-" Simon grumbled as he saw the damn platters of food. Eggs, Hashbrown, Grits, Biscuits, Pancakes, bacon, sausage, sausage gravy and some fruits you had lying around.
• "This is a scone-" Gaz said as he held the buttermilk biscuit in hand, Earning a hard glare from you.
• "Just eat the dam' thing" You shot back at him with a glare, the man grumbling before taking a bite and freezing.
• A hint of a smile going over his lips as he finished off the pastry quickly-
• Fucking thought so-
• Each one of them tucking into the hearty breakfast at hand and clearly had favorites.
• Alejandro enjoyed the hashbrowns with over easy eggs
• Price enjoying the grits quite a bit with scrambled
• Gaz dogging out the Biscuits and Gravy.
• Soap ate his stack of Pancakes in delight along side the mountain of Aunt Jemima syrup
• And Simon ate essentially everything but you noticed he liked to make sandwiches with his food using the biscuits.
• "Alright boys, ready to be tourist today?"
• You say cheerfully and watch their eyes get big-
• This was going to be fun - For you
• Maybe lucky was just on your side but you'd taken them to the Texas State Fair. Getting them civilian clothes from Walmart which they had a trip going through.
• Ending up at the Fair after a nice drive in your old truck you smile as the guys get hit with the wave of people and games laid before them. It was absolutely massive
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• Deciding to just get the christening over with you take them to the Pits- Getting them to try that years contestants and pit masters specialties from each stall.
• Them almost losing their minds when they saw the prices-
• You of course needing to flex your home so it wasn't a problem as you handed them the paper plates.
• Simon took a peice of the meat and slipped it under his mask first. You see his eyes widen at the taste as he continued to pick through the damn thing at quick speeds. The rest following suite.
• Price Having a damn good time with the smoked sausages as he acted like he hadnt had breakfast. Even if you knew the poor old man would have some heartburn after this.
• Drifting through the fair you showed them all the fusions in for the big contest- which had defiently been hit or miss by your guys standards.
• Alejandro speaking to some stall members as they gave him some stuff to try free and trying different fusions of some things he grew up on.
• A Froot Loop Shrimp doing Gaz in as he damn near lost his Breakfast and BBQ after a bite.
• The favorites among the men being a smothered Torta which they all demolished.
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• Which you were greatful for since your wallet was defiently starting to burn-
• Soaps eyes however handed on the Funnel Cake stand and you of course bought him one.
• Soap had the biggest sweet tooth out of the bunch and looked at the Funnel Cake like it was the second coming of God.
• "Ay Fuc ya thats good-" Soap said as he took a bite of the Funnel Cake and gave laugh. You could practically see the sugar rush setting into the Scotsman.
• After a few hours of running you get to the drink stands, Deciding some liquor was in order.
• "Bitc' about it an I'll clock y'u" You warned pointedly at them. Which made him shut up and drink the beers provided.
• From some shots, to Margaritas and then of course a river of beer ready for you all.
• " 'merican Beer is disgustin" Soap grumbled as he looked at the light colored liquid set infront of him by you.
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• After the drinks, the alcohol clearly getting to the men as they went to play some games.
• Releasing highly trained soldiers out to kiddy Fair games was probably the worse decision ever- Like setting a Olympian to a athletic competition.
• Winning time and time again each game, getting the biggest prizes or even cash at times.
• By the end of night the men were full and ready to sleep for the next 3 days. You driving them all the way back to your home and smiling as you saw the pile of hardened soilders passed out in the back of your truck like children.
• Sharp shooting, Darts, Ring Ross, Test of Strength-
• Every. GOD. DAMN. GAME.
• By the end each man had a clear plastic bag full to the brim with shit and most was offered to you. The giant bull stuffed animal as big as you being as much evidence-
• This leading to more drinks of course-
• When the rides came however they were well drunk- You feeling like you were watching a group of 6ft+ Toddlers wreck havoc over the fair as they dragged their prizes and went on Faris wheels and mini rides.
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I keep saying that Jonas Spahr needs a fucking drink, but I can never decide what drink because, let's be real, he'd benefit from quite a wide range of cocktails right now. So, I'm putting it to a poll.
This isn't about what drink you like best, this is about what drink you think Spahr should be having or most needs right now.
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vixentheplanet · 10 months
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five star hotel
"I think you should come and visit. I someone else who isn't you pulling up in a minute."
shuri x black!reader | 18+
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Summary: You've recently completed a press tour and a phenomenal award season for your latest film. To celebrate and unwind, you and your friends fly to Mauritius, an island in East Africa. You realize your relaxation time, but you're missing a thrill that can only come from one person. The only problem is that they need to be here.
inspired by five star hotels. by raye
word count: 7.1k
themes: actress reader, dom/sub undertones, this is very filthy...
warnings: smoking, drinking, possessive!shuri, dom! shuri, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, car sex, shotgunning, thigh riding, fingering, orgasm denial, begging, established safe words, body licking, rough sex, penetrative sex, spitting, choking, throat fucking, wall sex, oral sex
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hi - i’m in the process of re-uploading everything so anyone who wants to read can have easy access to find my works which is going to take some time but this was the easiest to post (it’s me not some random person lmaooo) 😔
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Mauritius. A small Indian Ocean island nation famed for its beaches, lagoons, and reefs. It was your holiday destination of choice. You'd just returned from a press tour for your new film, Sounds of the Vanished, and you'd finished the awards season as the most-awarded actress for your performance. The response and success to your performance had been magnificent, but with so much traveling and busy schedules, you were relieved to be on vacation.
The island was your destination for relaxation. Liza, Kali, Jade, and Evangeline were among your closest friends. You'd only been here for three of the fourteen days you'd planned, but you were having a great time going on different excursions during the day, such as hiking, snorkeling, and deep-sea diving. At night, you could be seen mingling with both residents and tourists at any number of vibrant outdoor bars and clubs. You were having a great time until last night when you had a little too much to drink.
As an actress, you were a natural social butterfly. You were the life of the party, captivating everyone who came across you. People are scared of your confidence. That was something you'd built up to prepare for audition rejections, award losses, and unfavorable critiques in this line of work. These qualities made up your character and personality that the public loved and adored, but you may be intense for those who didn't know how to handle it. As a single, young, attractive, and accomplished woman, such vibrant, charismatic energy drew a lot of attention, but most people realized they were too intimated by you. All except her.
You and Shuri, the Queen of Wakanda, had been seeing each other for a few months. The two of you discovered a pleasure in one another that you couldn't find anyplace else, which is why you found yourself phoning her the night before. You and your four friends were lounging on the patio of a bar, taking in the atmosphere and the warm climate. With the breathtaking ocean scenery, string lights twinkled above you as the waves crashed against the shore.
You'd been drinking a lot of flights, trying out various whiskeys and margaritas. The more the alcohol affected your bloodstream, the more lustful you became. Feelings that only she could control. You knew she'd make time for you if you asked, but when you slipped away to a quieter corner of the bar to call, she didn't answer.
Even when she's working, Shuri always answers your calls. It was too late for her to have a council meeting, and if she were out on business or Panther duties, she'd let you know so you knew she wouldn't be available, so her phone not answering meant she was busy fucking someone else. You and Shuri had similar lifestyles, both busy, and neither of you liked being tied down. She slept with whomever she wanted, and you did as well.
Who’s that bitch you’re fucking?
I know you’re fucking her.
You texted, which seemed to tease, but the attitude was evident. You were the top priority over any of those other bitches.
She texted back an hour after.
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Bet.
That was the end of the conversation last night. This morning, you awoke, smirking all the way to breakfast with your companions. You didn't care enough to "apologize," you both knew you weren't sincere, and everything you said was true.
You missed her body, and you know she missed yours.
She should be here. Nobody can fire her up as you can, and she's told you that several times.
You and Shuri had choices, and you both occasionally explored options before settling back on each other. Sex is sex, but sex with Shuri is unrivaled. Perhaps it's because she has no problem putting you in your place. Neither your fame nor your demeanor could faze her, maybe because you were a challenge to her. In turn, you weren’t intimidated by her being the Queen of Wakanda or the Black Panther.
The entire morning you went on a sightseeing and boat tour. You pause to take pictures with fans or sign autographs for any who happen to pass by before hurriedly exiting the location. Your security was concerned that word of your and your guests' whereabouts would spread shortly. You return to your room in the middle of the day. Jade retreated to her room to nap while Liza, Kali, and Evangeline went to the spa, but you returned to clean your room in preparation for Shuri's arrival.
It was time to get ready for tonight by the time you finished. You prepared by taking a shower, applying skincare and makeup, and grabbing your outfit from the closet—a Dolce & Gabbana black spandex mini dress with sleeves from the 2003 spring collection. When you reunited, Kali whistled, "Yeah, ma, do a spin for me,” She took out her phone and began recording an Instagram story. To humor her, you do a whole spin shaking your ass a little before turning around and laughing.
You know it's just a matter of time before your fans discover it and go crazy for the dress, but this is the only chance they'll see you wear it. Though things were quiet on Shuri's end, you knew she'd come through. “Save it for the club!” Angie yells as your bodyguard holds the SUV’s door open.
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You're dancing in the midst of a club, but you can't recall his name. He had approached you, star-struck, and asked if you wanted to dance; why not? Something he might later brag about to his buddies. You left Liza and Kali at the table, watching everyone's drinks. Jade and Evangeline had long disappeared after hearing a few members of the Golden State Warriors were in the lounge: “When Basketball Wives gets rebooted, trust I’ll be there. Let’s go, Angie!” So there you were, grinding back on a nameless man, his hard-on pressing onto you. You didn't mind because he was handsome enough. It was a nice ego boost and even better knowing he'd be dissatisfied by the night's end.
He couldn't keep up with you even now, dancing timidly, because his energy didn't match yours. Nervous. Consider what would happen if a famous actress told him, "I need you to choke me and pound me until I can't walk tomorrow." In all likelihood, he'd flee, leaving you to obsess about the person in your fantasies. You see Kali strolling through the crowd after leaving the VIP section upstairs as if angels answered your prayers. Her phone is in your hand, and her face is filled with worry. You break away from your dancing partner to focus solely on your best friend, and he backs off. "What's the matter, babe?" You yell over the music as she hands you your phone.
"Your phone hasn't stopped ringing!" She yells in your ear, attempting to come as close as possible to you. "You have something like a hundred notifications. I don’t know if something serious happened,” she exaggerates, handing you your phone.
As you check your phone, you find ten missed calls and two texts from 'DP.' Because calling back while the music vibrated the floorboards was pointless, you read the text first.
Come outside.
Now.
Smirking, you bite your lip and glance at the screen, no longer interested in your dance partner. She arrived. You knew 'bet' wasn't a joke. Shuri was one of the most brilliant minds in existence, with access to the most cutting-edge existing technologies. She was undoubtedly aware of your whereabouts before you enticed her to come hunting for you. You told her to come looking for you, and she did. You can't help but wonder how long she's been hiding on the island, waiting for the right opportunity to surprise you.
When you look up, Kali looks at you suspiciously, questioning, "Who the fuck is DP, and why are they blowing up your phone?" She wonders aloud. You wrinkle your eyebrows at her assertiveness, "None of your concern, one. Two, I'm heading out."
Kali's eyes show she wants to push you farther, but secrets are unusual between you, so she knows your secrecy is for a reason. "You'd better be at brunch. That’s all I know!” She demands, abruptly changing the subject. You grin as you lean down to kiss her cheek.
“I will, baby. Tell Liza I’m leaving; you know she worries.” Liza was the eldest and only married woman with two gorgeous children. She knew how to have a good time and party, but on nights like this, with everyone split up, drinking, and in a foreign country, she was bound to be extra careful despite your protection. Her maternal instincts were likely in overdrive, especially with Jade and Angie. In a way, you're one less person to be concerned about.
You gaze down at your phone once more. Shuri's text message arrived seven minutes ago. "Yes, yes. Leave before I come outside with you and start interrogating."
Knowing she's dead serious, you wrap up the conversation. "Love you, and make sure one of them doesn't wind up taking Tristian Thompson to the hotel," you joke, referring to Jade and Angie’s quest to be WAGS. Kali's eyes widen as you joke.
“Girl! You’re messy—get out of here," she giggles, nudging you along.
Moving stealthily through the crowd toward the exit, you keep your head down. The cool night air hits your exposed skin as you scan the area for your target. There's a black unmarked Rolls Royce with dark tints that are probably illegal. Bingo. Once it’s safe to do so, you cross the street and peer across the back to see a familiar figure pressing up against the passenger door.
You're confident none of the dark and disoriented individuals inside and outside the club are paying attention to the fact that the queen of Wakanda is standing out in the open, waiting for you. As you take her in, your lip catches between your teeth. She is dressed casually in black athletic shorts and a white tee shirt. There was no use in putting effort into an outfit that would wind up on the floor, but she looked impressive in whatever she wore.
She didn't bother turning her head to look at you as if she sensed you. "I found you," she says. Her tone is somber and absent of the usual playfulness. She did not find your antics the night before amusing. "Found me," you say as you stroll up the sidewalk to Shuri. Even though she seems off, being in the Wakandan Queen's presence causes your skin to tingle with anticipation. Your body is all too familiar with her.
When you stand before her, she uncrosses her arms, and you naturally fall into them, staring up at her as her arms wrap around your waist. "I thought I'd have to drag you out of there." You bring your arms around her neck, pulling her in.
“Mm,” you hum at the thought of Shuri being rough with you. “Wouldn’t want you to cause a scene to scare away all my potential late-night guests,” you teased. Instead of responding verbally, Shuri takes one of her hands off your ass and brings it back in a disciplining slap. You almost moan as the offensive force increases your eagerness.
You close your eyes, wincing slightly before letting out a breathy sigh. "Why are you upset? I can be with whoever I want, right.” You mock her, peering up at her through your lashes with false innocence. As if you didn't know, your words would provoke that reaction from her.
Shuri looks down at you. She rubs your ass with the hands she used to punish you for soothing the pain. “You can fuck whoever you want, but you still beg me to come out here.”
The reunion is over as she releases you, pushing off the car. Her authoritative nature consumes the air around you, nearly suffocating. "What's your problem?" you questioned as if you hadn't drunk-texted her, telling her she needed to be here.
Shuri sucks her teeth. "My problem is you," she declares emphatically, not caring how you react. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.” There were two choices: retaliate with an equally slick ass statement, or listen and behave. For now, you’ll behave as you decide to reach to open the door.
Shuri's presence is behind you, grasping the handle before you can, "Don't act brand new," she says. When you get inside the Rolls-Royce, you're surprised Shuri can see out the black windows—admiring the starlight headlining. She stays silent after that, getting into the driver's seat. She continues to drive without even trying to pay attention to you. You were aware that you might be a brat sometimes; all that confidence and energy made for a toxic combination now and then. One way Shuri exerts power is by ignoring you. Sometimes it would work, shifting your headspace to a more submissive one. You're too busy being a good girl, begging and pleading for Shuri's praise and care, to be bothered with talking back. Other times, you make her work for your submission, not letting up until she is inside of you, manipulating your body into any position she desires while fucking you senseless.
You knew exactly what you needed tonight. Shuri parks her car in a beach parking space near the hotel and turns off the engine. Silence fills the air as Shuri reclines her seat, and you wait impatiently. You wonder why she stopped here instead of the main lot.
You get your answer as your eyes follow her movements as she reaches in and pulls out a pre-rolled joint, sparking the lighter. Shuri’s gaze lingers on you as she takes a hit of the cannabis. Exhaling, the smoke fills the air around you. You expect her to open her mouth to speak now, but instead, she returns the joint to her lips. Starting to get agitated with her ignoring you, cross your arms, and face her back against the door. "Did you drag me out of the club to watch you smoke?"
"Didn't you text my phone acting crazy? Stop being impatient."
You raise an eyebrow at her comments as if she didn’t want you as much as you wanted her. “You’re acting like if I told you couldn’t hit this anymore, you wouldn’t lose your mind. It doesn’t matter who you’re laid up with. They aren't me." Many women were willing and waiting for Shuri to give them a chance, but she came here to be with you in less than twenty-four hours.
Shuri sucks her teeth and is not pleased with your delivery as she refuses to accept the truth of your words. “You keep talking to me like you lost your mind,” she asserts, frowning in confusion. “I don’t know who else you’re dealing with that lets you talk to them like that, but not me,” she warns.
"I wouldn't be talking if we were inside," your voice whines. Neediness has taken over. She was right here, but she was still too far away.
Shuri grins. "Would you like me to bring you inside? I might use you how I please for my own satisfaction. Have you just lay there and take it? Is that what you want?”
"You wouldn’t do that."
“I wouldn’t?” Shuri challenges, passing the joint to your outstretched fingers.
“Coming all this way and not playing with me,” You inhale in small puffs, pull the smoke into your lungs, and exhale. “Sounds like more of a punishment for you than me.” Your body was something she couldn't resist. Even when she attempts to avoid touching you in order to drive you insane, she always breaks. You didn’t need to dominate to control her.
You return the blunt to her, and she accepts it. "Come here," she says as she pats the empty space in her lap, and you climb over. She absorbs another blow at the same time. Her hand is on your thigh, gradually moving the fabric of your dress up, exposing the skin of your ass to the cool temperature that the AC is trying to maintain.
As you approach her, the effects of the high are visible in her eyes. Your gaze falls to her lips, and without hesitation, you lift your hands to her face and draw her to you. Shuri's free hand pulls you closer in an instant, pressing you even harder against her lips, finally giving in to what you both desire. Shuri's teeth dragged at your lower lip, causing you to part your lips. Instinct took over as you felt the Wakandan royals' tongue glide between your lips. Heat runs through your body all at once, and the hunger building up with the distance causes you to devour each other, leaving you gasping as she pulls away.
You give her a single breath before lowering your lips again. Shuri took the lead this time, more demanding and rough, brushing her tongue over your lips and drawing it between her teeth in the most sinful way possible, your brain shutting down completely as you makeout.
It's your turn to take a breath away from the kiss, and Shuri tries to distract herself by going down towards your collarbone.
"Uh, uh," you pull Shuri's mouth away from your neck, revealing her face. "I know exactly how you get, and I have a lot of skimpy bikinis to wear." Shuri took great pleasure in seeing all of her marks on you. Everyone who fucked you next would be distracted by thoughts of who gave them to you, unable to enjoy themselves to the fullest. Constantly wondering and fascinated as to who had so much claim over you.
"People can't admire me if they're too focused on what's on my skin." Shuri's eyes narrow, not amused by your comment. To console her, you caress the side of her face, beckoning her to lean closer with a finger. You teasingly bite her lip, returning to meet her icy stare again.
"Don't make that face," you mock, knowing Shuri was irritated by the image of you with other people you were trying to paint in her mind. There was no commitment, but neither of you liked being reminded of previous sexual partners when you were together. You give her lips another light peck, humming with excitement at the satisfaction of riling her up. "You can still hit it like it's yours," you whisper, your angelic eyes drowning in seduction.
Shuri finally gets tired of your arrogance and lifts your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at her. "It is mine.” She almost growls in your ear. Your smirk fades as you let out an audible moan, getting off to the sound of her voice, knowing the severity in her tone assured you a long night ahead.
Shuri makes a pleased sound, and her suppressed groan enhances your desire for her. “I love this little attitude you’re putting on. You want to know why?” She asked, waiting for you to respond.
“Mm, why is that?” You take a deep breath, feeling the tension and temperature in the car rise. You desperately wanted to remove that extra layer of clothing between you two. You were aching for her despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.
Shuri relaxes her hold slightly to bring her thumb to your lower lip, her dark gaze following the way your tongue teasingly peaks out to lick the tip of her finger. "Because I get to fuck it out of you," she continues. “Make you my good girl again." Her words penetrate your core, and you feel walls clench around emptiness, knowing she'll make you complete soon.
"You're insatiable, and no one can tame you as I can. Huh, baby,” You nod, unable to speak because your mouth is busy. "That's exactly what I thought. Now move.” Move? You wrinkle your brows as you begin to rise from Shuri's lap, disappointed, not seeing the point of having you get up from your seat in the first place before a bruising hold on your waist stops you. “Move.” She repeats more forcefully, and you realize what she means. You adjust a little so that one of Shuri's thighs is between your legs, then press down until your clit is firmly against her. You're confident she can sense how wet you are for her, dripping on her skin.
"Get nice and wet for me, but you can't cum," Shuri instructs as you roll your hips. You begin cautiously, attempting to follow Shuri's warning not to cum yet. You won't overwhelm yourself if you proceed slowly.
Time passes. Shuri rotates the rest of the blunt between you two, bringing it to your lips for each inhalation. Your hands are gripping the back of the seat. It's hot, and you can feel sweat clinging to your skin, but you don't mind. You're far too mellow. Dazed and whirling, your hips are in sync with the smoke filling the air illuminated by the stars on the ceiling. Using Shuri's body to get off feels like something out of a dream.
Massaging your clit against Shuri’s thighs, a little gasp leaves your lips when the sensation gets too much. Shuri takes one last, deep drag. A hand comes to the back of your neck, pulling you close to her until your foreheads are touching. Before opening your mouth, you purse your lips, pushing a whimper to the back of your throat. Shuri presses forward, your lips touching as she, little by little, blows the smoke into your mouth. You accept everything, inhaling the marijuana and moving in for a kiss.
Her hand goes from your neck to your folds, inserting her middle finger inside till it brushes against your clit. The slightest touch of her fingertips causes your hips to stutter and your rhythm to come to a halt as your thighs tighten around her wrist. "Shuri," you exhale, rocking gently in her embrace.
Your face flushed at the slick sounds as she played in the results of your sexual desire.
"You're not being fair," you protest. Shuri commanded you not to cum while making it more difficult for you. It was easier when you had a choice over your pleasures, but Shuri used her expert fingers to take you apart while expecting you not to cum. Your stomach tightens as you strain to suppress your climax, letting out a few quiet grunts.
Shuri doesn't care what you think of her games. “I don’t have to be fair. I make the rules, and you have to follow them.” Her dominant tone is coming through, making you even wetter. The low, seductive timbre of her voice might set you off. She increases the pressure on her finger, and you're practically writhing in her lap, desperate for the woman to stop. You could feel the euphoric tension rising and—
"Fuck," you scream, curling in on yourself in relief as Shuri comes to a stop, denying you release verbally and now physically. You mistakenly assume she was finished, not realizing she never removed her hand. You could have thought things were over, but now she's moving again.
“Are you going to come?” She questioned. No words are coming out of your mouth, so you frantically shake your head from side to side. Your body betrays you, starved of orgasm and searching for it. On Shuri's fingers, your hips swivel down. Shuri grins with amusement as she watches you break.
The weed always lets you get out of your thoughts and into your body, which was good because it amplified sex sensations when high. Yet, it also proved a disadvantage as you fought to keep it together. "Are you sure?" With a wicked expression on her face, she pushed.
You felt helpless, wanting to obey Shuri yet lacking the strength to resist your release. "Please, please, please," you beg, attempting to escape her. But you're no match for Shuri, and she doesn't back down, aware that if you genuinely wanted her to stop, you'd use the safe word you established.
Your pleading must have worked because a few seconds later, Shuri pauses, preventing you from having an orgasm yet again. Relieved, tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you realize you can break free. She removes her hands this time, and you can see the sticky substances coating her fingers. “Always so messy,”
Shuri raises her fingers to your mouth, and you accept them to clean yourself off her. You look up at her with sparkling eyes as you conduct such wicked acts. She groans as she feels your lips suction around her, tongue circling each finger, properly licking yourself up. “Good enough for me to taste later,” you nod, still sucking.
A humming sound emanates from her lips as she muses, "I'll think about it if you can listen to me. You'll now return to your room while I park the car." Shuri continues to speak. "I want you naked on the bed. If you understand, nod." You do as directed by gesturing your head like a good girl. Shuri kisses you briefly before releasing you.
Faithful to her sadistic nature, she has added one extra obstacle for you to get to your suite. You shakily exit the car, pausing to remove your heels as you walk through the sand. You reach the patio and cross the hotel gardens, cursing Shuri silently. You try to multitask by removing your dress's sleeves. You cross the bridge into the area of the private spaces a few minutes later, smiling at the Hotel personnel as you rush.
You unlock the suite door and kick your heels to the side of the entryway before proceeding to the room. A touchscreen pad on the wall controls multiple functions in the room. You press the center button, which dimly illuminates the room. You rush into the restroom to wash the sand off your feet. Fucking Shuri. On the short walk, you've probably cursed her ten times.
You run into the kitchen, needing a drink. You opened a bottle of wine the other day but never got around to drinking it. You remove the cork and pour two glasses, one for yourself and one for Shuri. You down the smooth red liquid. You understand that the alcohol would quickly combine with the THC in your system. "Fuck," you mutter as you realize you're losing time. Shuri was almost certainly on her way inside.
You hurriedly slip your dress over your head and slide your soaked panties down your legs, throwing both things on the couch at the end of the bed, leaving the bottle and glass of wine you poured for Her on the bedside table. You climb into bed, your head resting in your hands, your elbow propped up, anticipation beating through your skin.
Shuri emerges from the corridor a few minutes later, placing a bag on the carpet. Her pupils dilated as lust darkened her irises, and her eyes took you in. The number of times she's seen you undressed doesn't matter; she's always stunned, unable to speak. She walks around to the other side of the bed and finds the treat you've left for her. “You want to be nice to me now?” Shuri said as she looked at the wine.
"You expect me to show compassion for you just because you pour me a glass of wine?" Shuri reaches out her tattooed hand to stroke your chin. "I'm not," she laughed, tilting her head to the side. "But it was thoughtful of you."
You gasp sharply at her words. You can't wait for her to take off her clothes. You desired her inside of you after being denied two orgasms. "I never asked you to be," you said sarcastically. H oping she'd hurry up and fulfill her promise to fuck the arrogance out of you.
Shuri laughs again, aware of the game you were playing. “You have such a mouth on you.” She takes a couple of sips from her glass. "Lie on your back," she commands, and you do what she says—looking up at the chandelier while resting flat on your back.
Shuri holds the glass at an angle such that the red wine drips between your breasts and down to your stomach from above. The chill the unexpected sensation leaves on your skin causes your breath to catch. Your body stiffens as you try not to move and disturb the liquid on your body. Shuri gets on the bed face to face with the lower half of your body, still completely clothed, admiring her work. She brings her mouth to your heated skin from beneath your belly button, carefully licking up the mess she made.
She stops between your breasts, placing her lips on one of your nipples, and you moan, feeling her tongue circle around the sensitive bud—the bitter chill of the central air hardens it. Shuri moves on to the next one, repeating the technique and sucking until the sensitive buds are tense.
As she approaches, you whimper and finally come face to face. Shuri places two fingers between your legs, just outside your entrance. She was right where you needed her, but not quite near enough. "You're always so pretty and tight for me."
"Shuri," you whine. She was ignoring your desires. "No, that's all you're getting for now.” You sigh and roll your eyes. Shuri catches the action. “Again, with the attitude. That’s okay. We’re about to correct it right now.”
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Shuri spreads your legs apart and bends them at the knee. “I advise that you keep your legs like this.” Though it didn’t seem like a complex request, you knew you would feel it in your abdomen the longer you held it. "Wide open, ready for me," Shuri observed, staring intently at your warm and inviting pussy.
You bite your lip as Shuri sinks inch by inch, and by the time she's entirely inside, you're gasping, your eyes shutting abruptly as your face twists in ecstasy. Shuri emits a noise of dissatisfaction, “No, open your eyes. I want you to watch it. Watch while I take you apart.” Her eyes had a sinister glint to them. She pushed in and out a few times to get you acquainted with the sensation of her.
The delayed start provided a false sense of security. Shuri's speed soon became ferocious fucking into you, and all you could do was lay there and receive it as her hips slapped into you. "Fuck!" you yelled, flinging your head back. Your thigh muscles were aching from retaining the position, but you were determined not to obstruct Shuri's entry to you.
Shuri slows her desperate strokes, stilling inside you, giving you a short reprieve. She goes for the bottle of wine and tilts her head back, taking a long sip. You can see her throat bob as she swallows it. It's quite seductive. "Open," she urges, holding the bottle above you, and you do it without question.
You feel like a goddess being poured wine while naked, high, and blissed out. This is why having sex with anyone else will never be the same as having sex with Shuri. Hair in all directions, body sticky from sweat, and the residue of the wine sipped off your skin. You swallow the wine, letting the smooth liquid ease the scratchiness in your throat. "Open," she says again, and although the bottle is nowhere to be seen, you open your mouth wide, putting your tongue out, waiting. Shuri spits directly into your mouth, and you tighten your grip on the strap. It should be disgusting, yet it's hot, and you fucking love it as her saliva hits you. “Such a whore, you know that? Letting me fuck you, ruin you.”
Her hands are widening your legs. "You love that, don't you?"
“Yes, yes, yes,” When she puts her finger to your clit, she doesn't let up until she makes you scream, clutching the sheets while screaming and moaning. Shuri is captivated by the noises you make and how her name slips off your tongue as she abandons you absolutely and completely undone.
"Yes, please make me cum for you," you plead, all the toying and teasing had left you ravenous, and all you wanted to do was reach orgasm. "Fuck me like that, fuck me so good," you scream, your fingers tightly wrapped around Shuri's neck, forcing her to stare at you.
"You always fuck me so good—feel so good in me," You’re babbling, half out of your mind. Loving when you’re vocal in bed. Your word has Shuri double her efforts, her strokes sinking deeper. You gasp in response to a powerful thrust pressed up on your g-spot. "There- right there—don't stop, don't stop, don't stop- "
“Don’t stop, huh?” She asks. "Will you let me have you like this all the time? Fuck you nonstop. Never let you go. Constantly have you naked and ready in my bed."
"I'd let you fuck me again and over," you say, maintaining eye contact.
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? I'll keep you in Wakanda just to fuck you. Make you cum again and again." Shuri was slamming relentlessly into you. As the dominant continued to drive into you, you shouted. Being treated this way, like Shuri's own whore, made you feel amazing. She treated you like an irresistible toy.
“You want to cum?”
“Yes, please, baby.”
"Do you believe you deserve it?" Shuri continues, not interested in your point of view. "I'll be nice, baby," she says, her voice raspy and low. “I’ll let you come. I'll let you come all over me, then fuck it right back into you so you can give it to me again." You can hear the headboard hitting the wall, moving in tandem with the intensity of Shuri's push, mixed in with Shuri's dirty obscenities. Your moans, her filthy words, and the snap of hips against you all contribute to your symphony. The most sinful thing ever composed. After being denied orgasms, you were going to come, but you still needed more. You grab Shuri's wrist and pull her over to your neck. "Shit baby," Shuri says, recognizing your request. Breath play always intensified your orgasms, and you knew you were on the verge of cumming. Permission had now been obtained.
As the hand around your neck squeezes, power is exchanged. A release from control, you giving it to Shuri and her receiving it. The dominant and submissive. Daddy Panther and her darling. As your airway tightens, you ease into the touch, becoming calmer, more carefree, and wholly trusting.
You finally achieve your high at that instant for a million reasons: the smoke, wine, and the taste of yourself on her tongue. Your body arches as everything stops, and you cry out Shuri's name like a litany as you come. The intensity of your climax causes your thighs to quiver. Shuri fucks you through it. Grabbing onto the headboard to plunge harder into you, a forceful stroke presses you farther into the mattress. You hear a crack that sounds like the wood of the headboard in Shuri's hands, but she does not stop. She continues to fuck you, never letting up on her pace falter. When your nerves are on edge from being too sensitive, she stops.
Shuri pants above you. You lay there for a second, attempting to regain your composure while looking up at Shuri with tearful eyes. "There she is, my girl," Her hand brushes some of the hairs stuck to your forehead. "It's all right, darling. I know she needs a break,” Shuri says, wiping the tears from your eyes. Your pussy had its own heartbeat, pulsing from the rough treatment. The thrill is intoxicating.
Shuri pulls out and stands up, and you whine about the absence of contact. She's now standing at the foot of the bed. "All fours, come here," she ordered firmly. As much as your body protested moving so soon after such an intense orgasm, you were committed to doing the right thing for Shuri. Follow her instructions. She meant it when she said she'd restore you to your former self as her good girl, your attitude replaced by a desire to please her. "Look at the mess you've made." You stare down at the glistening strap coated with your release. Shuri gathers your hair in one hand, the other holding the strap's base.
You get down on your elbows, ass up, spine beautifully curved. Shuri thrusts in, her hand holding your hair and keeping you in position as she shallowly rocks her hips. You bob your head, working more quickly, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth. “That’s it, baby, tasting my pretty girl.” Shuri breathes, tone rough.
"Are you going to let me fuck your throat?" You give her permission by humming around the object in your mouth. The hand in your hair stops your movement, and Shuri takes charge. When she thrusts, it feels like she's scratching your throat, and your throat feels full and tight as if it's been expanded. Occasionally she goes deeper, triggering your gag reflex and making your eyes water. “You’re working so hard. I can't wait for you to ruin it again." She starts sliding you along the shaft of the strap with your hair. As the strap tip strikes the back of your throat, you make a choked moan. Shuri knows this isn't the first time you've done this, so she keeps you there for a second before pulling you off. You're gasping, spit is dripping down your chin, and your eyes are burning. The sight truly amazes Shuri.
"You look fucking beautiful right now. Can you do it again for me?" Shuri requests. You nod. The harsh treatment ignited the fire in your stomach. "Then I'll fuck you again," she informs you.
Shuri pushes you, slipping the tip in your throat again and securing you in place. You calmly breathe through your nose, but your throat convulses around the strap, and you choke. "Take a breath," Shuri orders, and you listen, your throat spasming before Shuri lifts you back up. You gaze up at Shuri, tears streaming down your cheeks, your chin messier than before. “So perfect for me,” Shuri gasped, and you moaned at the adoration you found in her expression.
“Are you okay?” She asks, checking in.
“Yes,” your voice is hoarse, fucked out. Waiting for Shuri’s next move.
Shuri is effortlessly lifting you from your position and collecting you in her arms, hands under your legs to support you. You tightly wrap your legs around her. Shuri moves through the room. As your body is pressed against the plaster, you kiss her, and the strap slides back into you, undoing all your hard work cleaning it. Your fingers clasp Shuri's shoulder as your arm loops around her neck, keeping her close to your chest. You interrupt the kiss to groan loudly, and your head collides with the back wall. "You're doing well, baby. Taking everything I give you," she says proudly.
That was something you admired about her. She never takes anything from you and always gives you all you need.
Shuri pins you between the well and her chest; sweaty bodies push together. Your heartbeats are racing. "Damn baby, you fuck me so good," you moan, glancing down to where the strap disappeared and reappeared in you.
You have no choice but to accept it as she continues with the fierce, sharp thrust. Her strength is exhilarating, tearing you apart and never wavering, giving it to you hard and fast. "Yes, like that, exactly like that," you pant, encouraging her to keep going, reminding her that her "good girl" can receive anything she has to offer.
This time, you get to your second climax much more quickly. The harder Shuri fucked you, the louder your moans became, unconcerned about who heard. "When you cum, I want you to scream my name," Shuri demands. She couldn't stop herself. She seized your hips and drilled relentlessly into your pussy. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.” It was fascinating to see her lose control. And when you feel the familiar wave of overpowering euphoria pour over you, you give her exactly what she wants. “Panther!” You scream, your walls squeezing the strap while you cum, but there's no time to recover.
Shuri is flinging you on the covers, and she's crawling back between your legs for the second time tonight. Shuri adores the taste of you. You recall her spending nearly an hour spreading you open and licking leisurely, not to make you come but to satiate her thirst. She couldn't stop herself from making you cum on her tongue to end this round.
Her lips are on your abused clit, sucking hard as her tongue licks at it, demanding more. You're going to give it to her because you can't bear the thought of disappointing her. Shuri gave you what you needed to give her what she wanted: your submission, your cum, your moans, your pleasure; it was all hers. She wrecked you for anyone else. There will never be someone who knew your body as well as she did and demonstrated it every time you were together.
You try to get free from her grip by twisting your body to the side, but your efforts are unsuccessful. Shuri pulls your body straight, pinning you on the bed by your waist, uninterested in your overstimulation. She was on a mission to watch you cry and beg for mercy.
Tears cloud your vision as the experience begins to overtake you. It's fantastic—too much of a good thing. "Oh my goodness, baby!" you exclaim. You were taken aback as you felt the release exit your body. Your palm reaches for your mouth to muffle the ugly sobs rattling your body. Your orgasm's shakes and spasms were tremendous, moving your entire body with intensity. The whole thing was extremely sensitive. You can't help but grin with the contented numbness of coming down from a high.
You press your sweating brow against your forearm, your unfocused gaze seeking Shuri. She's to your right, observing you cautiously, knowing she's put you through a lot. And you wouldn't want it any other way, of course. You smile at her in satisfaction. “Perfect, Oscar winner smile.” Shuri is delighted. "My star, you did an amazing job for me, baby."
“Always, Daddy Panther.”
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hlficlibrary · 5 months
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HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC
AO3: phdmama 
Tumblr: @phdmama
STATS:
✤ Number of fics: 208
✤ Posting Since: 2016
TOP 5 FICS:
1️⃣ Hold My Heart {E, 14k}
“Excuse me, mate, I’m the window seat here.” The voice was soft, apologetic, and accented in something a bit unfamiliar — northern England, maybe, Harry thought.
“Oh,” Harry jumped to his feet and moved aside, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you standing there.”
The other man laughed as he swung a bag into the overhead compartment and slid into the seat. “You were well caught up in that book, mate. What are you reading?”
Harry paused, wondering how to explain the fact that he was reading an epic and x-rated romance that was the story of a relationship between a prince and the man he’d enslaved. “Oh, you know, just some fiction my sister recommended.” He turned to look at the man and froze.
Sitting next to him was Louis Tomlinson.
Or, the one where famous Louis Tomlinson offers his hand and a lot more to his seat mate on a transatlantic flight.
(Co-written with @a-writerwrites)
2️⃣ Feels Like Coming Home {E, 60k}
The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. After a spectacularly ugly break-up three years prior, Harry hasn't heard one word from Louis, and he's moved on. Gotten over him. But having Louis back in his life, not to mention working at the restaurant where he's a chef, isn't easy, and the feelings that Harry thought he'd left turn out to be not so easily forgotten.
This is a story about love and the power of forgiveness, and how the hard choices we make define us, and change our lives.
3️⃣ On the Go {T, 2k}
From this post because I could not resist.
4️⃣ It's a Better Place (Since You Came Along) {E, 51k}
When Harry Styles, a mid-level talent, Finder, and small business owner, sets off on the vacation of a lifetime with his best friend, Niall Horan, he has no idea the changes his life will undergo over the next nine days. He's got it all planned - there's going to be shore excursions, lounging by the pool on the deck of the luxurious cruise ship, not to mention margaritas. What he does not plan for are the new friends, new bonds, or the mystery from his past that comes back to haunt him, and he certainly hasn't planned for Louis.
5️⃣ For Better and For Worse {M, 12k}
Harry and Louis have been together for 5 years and they've been getting questions when they would be getting married and start a family. Bur Harry doesn't have the time. They were arguing one morning when Harry had enough and left for work. He's a doctor and works at the a&e there is a call that there has been a bad car crash and that there is more than one patient coming in. Harry does his job good and works on the first patient and everything goes great until his next patient is Louis.
HIDDEN GEM:
💎 Unveiled {M, 65k}
The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land.
There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.
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ladylooch · 10 months
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Your requests may be closed, and I most definitely respect that, but this is me begging for just a crumb of protective Nico because I need it more than I need oxygen. 🥺
A/N: I almost died eating a cheesy roll up from Taco Bell while writing this… And I came back from near death because I had to finish this for you 😘 No I am not dramatic at all, why do you ask?
You had gone to bed before Nico. He was out in the living room, watching a late west coast game between the Rangers and Kings. He had slept in late and took two naps, so sleep wasn’t coming for him anytime soon. Fine with you. You didn’t mind an empty bed when you knew he was in the other room. 
You fall asleep quickly, taking a bit of cold medicine to help you sleep after having a sinus infection earlier in the week. The medicine helps you slumber deep, but it also brings a very vivid dream that takes place in your bedroom, seemingly tonight. A man is in the corner. He’s lurking, waiting for you to shut the door so he can grab you. You try to yell to Nico, but the hand over your mouth muffles any attempt. 
“Make a sound and your boyfriend dies.” The man says as he throws you down on the bed and pulls out a knife. 
You jolt awake, sitting up and sucking in a gasping breath. You clutch your chest, trying to get your bearings straight. Everything still feels so real. You look around the room, cringing at all the shadows that cast out in oblong shapes to you. You close your eyes, trying to talk yourself down from your panic. When you open them, you swear there is movement to your left. You look fast, seeing the curtains blowing in the breeze from the ceiling fan. Everything in your body is screaming fight or flight.
The weak light from the TV barely reaches the end of the hall as you open the door. You tip toe down, wondering if maybe Nico had fallen asleep on the couch. When you round the corner, his brown eyes immediately find you. He lays on his back, feet crossed at the ankles, with his hands behind his head. You cling to the wall nervously.
“I’m scared.” You admit to him. He perks up to a sitting position, opening his arms to you.
“What’s up, sweets?”
“I had a bad dream.” You mutter into his neck, attaching to him like a baby sloth.
“Oh no.” He rubs his hands up and down your back to comfort you. “Wanna talk about it?”
“There was a guy here.” Your voice shakes. Nico pulls you tighter at the observance. 
“No one is here. Just me and you, baby.” He soothes immediately. 
“He was in the bedroom and he grabbed me. He said he was going to kill you if I made any noise.” You squeeze your eyes shut, fingerprints pressing deeper into his body. Nico sighs, bringing his face close to your hair to press kisses along your head.
“You’re okay.” He reminds you. “You’re safe here in my arms. Nothing is going to get to you through me.” His words are perfect. Nico always knows what to say. You pause right where you are for a moment, not speaking, only feeling the solidness of him beneath and around you. Nico notices your grip on him slacken a bit and pulls away so he can see your face. “Better?”
“Yeah.” You nod, taking a measured breath. “How much longer are you going to be up?”
“I can come to bed now if you want.”
“Yes, please.” He nods, clicking the TV off and helping you to your feet. You let him walk first into the bedroom. He immediately flips the light on and does his due diligence to look around the room, even behind the curtains that scared you when you first woke up. “Just me and you.” He reiterates. “Get under the covers.” He waits for you to do so, then turns the light off.
He climbs into bed and pulls you into his body so you are spooning. You fit together like interconnecting parts. With Nico’s protection, you fall back to sleep relatively easy. This time, you dream of you and him on a sandy, white beach, sipping margaritas and getting interesting tan lines.
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chvoswxtch · 1 year
Note
Hi baby! Congratulations on your amazing milestone! I’d like to order a margarita with Frank Castle and the song ‘cinnamon girl’ by Lana del Rey, specifically the quote: “there’s things I wanna say to you but I’ll just let you live, If you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever did”.
It’d be very self indulgent as I just got out of an extremely abusive relationship with my ex bf and i just moved to the other side of the country and I feel like frank would be so soft spoken and careful when holding me after everything I’ve been through 💗
my sweet angel,
firstly I want to say that I am so proud of you. it takes a lot of bravery and strength to do what you did, and I am so happy that you made it out of that situation. secondly, I want you to know there is nothing that you ever said or did that would warrant/excuse that kind of treatment. and finally, I want you to know that I feel very special that you trusted me with this. that means so much to me, and I hope I did you justice.
I didn't go too heavy into detail in terms of the bad things, and tried to keep it more light and fluffy for you.
please know this community is your safe space, and we are all behind you and rooting for you and supporting you. thank you again for trusting me, and I hope you enjoy my darling. huge fucking cheers to you. 🥂💗
blurb below the cut
cinnamon girl
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if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did
Frank Castle was a very large, intimidating man. He was tall, built like a brick wall, and it didn’t help that his features were always fixed in a broody and unapproachable expression. He could be violent and cold, speak with a wicked and harsh tongue, and tear through things in his path with his bare hands.
But he was always delicate with you. His eyes were softer, and seemed to lighten to a warmer shade of brown when he looked at you. His full lips parted into a smile when you were in his presence, and your favorite were his grins that split his mouth wide open to show off his dazzling teeth. The soft crinkles it created by his eyes and the way his eyes shrank from the rise of his cheeks past the bridge of his large nose made him look gentler, and younger even. His laughter was deep and melodic as it bellowed in his chest, echoing in your ears like a lullaby. His touch was exceptionally kind, and his tone was tender as the deep bass of his voice weaved around you like a warm blanket. He never moved too quickly into your space, and he continually asked for consent until he learned to read your nonverbal cues.
Frank made you feel safe. The safest you had ever felt. You knew that he would rather die a thousand times over than ever say an unkind word to you, or lay a hand on you in a way that was anything other than affectionate.
You knew that.
But the two of you were arguing over something trivial, and his voice had been steadily increasing in volume, and loud noises had always made you anxious, but loud and angry men always sent you into fight or flight. He wasn’t yelling, but his deep voice seemed to boom like resentful claps of thunder in the space of the living room. The amplification already had your hands trembling with subconscious fear, but it was when he threw his hands up in exasperation that you really started to spiral.
It was just a simple gesture. It wasn’t directed at you. He wasn’t even close enough to touch you, even if he stretched his arms out wide. But still, you flinched.
And suddenly it was silent.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest and your breaths struggling to escape out of your lungs. You hadn’t noticed your vision had gone black until you felt the strain behind your eyelids, opening your eyes slowly until a very horrified Frank came into view. He appeared to be frozen in place, his hands still raised in midair, and when he caught your gaze on them, he immediately dropped them and took a few steps backwards.
For what felt like an eternity, the two of you just stared at each other. The confusion and terror was evident on Frank’s face, and you couldn’t imagine what your own looked like. Your mind and heart were at war on the next move. Part of you wanted to run, but you couldn’t move your feet. The other part wanted to reach out for the safety net of Frank’s arms. It was getting increasingly harder for you to breathe as you felt the familiar onset of hyperventilation, and you instantly kicked into survivor mode, repeating a mantra that came second nature to you.
“I…I”m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t…mean to…I’m sorry. Please don’t…I’m sorry-”
“Hey…hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. Didn’t do anythin’ wrong, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, can ya do that?”
The sting of tears warmed your lower lash line, and your face twisted up in regret and lingering fear as you stared over at Frank. The look on his face hurt worse than anything anyone else had ever done to you before.
“I’m so sorry-”
“Baby, please stop apologizin’. Please? Can I…alright if I come closer?”
Frank kept his tone gentle and his voice quiet as he looked at you in pity and concern. You quickly nodded your head as you clenched your fists tightly at your sides, reminding yourself that this was Frank. This was different. He wasn’t going to hurt you. He very slowly lifted his hands up in a sign of surrender, taking careful and languid steps towards you.
“Tell me what you need from me. What can I do to help, baby?”
“I…I don’t…I don’t know, I’m sorry-”
“Hey, s’alright. Can I touch you? That okay?”
Even though you nodded your head frantically, Frank still took his time approaching you, carefully wrapping his arms around you to pull you into the haven of his chest. You gripped onto his back, digging your nails into his skin through the material of his shirt as you cried into his chest. He pressed light kisses to the top of your head, rocking you gently in his arms and shushing you quietly.
When you finally calmed down, Frank delicately held your face in his large hand, staring down into your eyes with a storm of emotions swirling in his. He opened his mouth several times to speak, his dark brows furrowing as he struggled with where to start.
“You…don’t gotta tell me anythin’ you ain’t comfortable sharin’. But…I gotta…did you…did you really think I was gonna hit you?”
The hurt in Frank’s voice only lined your eyes with fresh tears as you gripped onto his arm tightly.
“No..no Frank, I-I just…we were arguing and…you started getting loud…and when you raised your hands-I know you wouldn’t. I know that. It just…”
Frank’s jaw clenched as he stared down at you, and his eyes darkened with unbridled rage.
“Made you think ‘bout someone that hurt you before.”
There was an edge to his voice, but it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You could tell by his features that he was absolutely pissed. There was a murderous fury burning in his eyes that would’ve sent a shiver down the spine of the person brave enough to meet his gaze, and his hands shook with pure contained wrath as he held you in his arms.
But you didn’t feel afraid. Because Frank’s anger wasn’t directed at you, it was for you. 
It was such a strange and euphoric feeling, being in the presence of an angry man and not feeling fear. Knowing that those strong and capable hands of his would be used to defend you, not against you.
“It…it’s why I moved here. To get away.”
Frank squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling a sharp breath that he let out in a slow and frustrated exhale, grunting under his breath.
“Fuckin’ worthless piece of shit.”
“I…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just…it’s hard to talk about-”
“Hey, you ain’t gotta explain yourself to me, alright? You ain’t do nothin’ wrong. You weren’t ready to tell me, that’s all. I…I appreciate you tellin’ me now. I’m sorry I made you feel that way-”
“No, no Frank, please. You didn’t. It…it was just a reaction, okay? I know you would never hurt me. I swear.”
Frank stared down into your eyes, searching them for any sign that you weren’t telling the truth. He finally let out a soft sigh, tightening his protective hold on your waist.
“Don’t s’pose you’d give me an address of where I can find this sorry fucker?”
“Frank-”
“Ain’t gonna kill him. Just think he needs his ass beat, s’all.”
You tried to fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as you arched one of your brows and gave him a pointed look. He let out a heavy exhale as he looked away and cocked his head to the side.
“Alright, that was a lie. I would fuckin’ kill him. But the world ain’t gonna miss an asshole like that. Be doin’ it a favor.”
Letting out a soft chuckle, you brought your hands up to gently cup his face in your hands.
“I…appreciate that you would do that for me. But we’re better than that.”
“Well you may be, but I sure as hell ain’t.”
“Frank.”
“Fine. I’ll leave it alone, for now. But when you ask me what I want for my birthday or Christmas, don’t be surprised if this is my answer.”
Should you be concerned that your boyfriend threatened to kill your ex on your behalf? Yes. Were you? Absolutely not. Because it was Frank.
Your Frank.
And the safest place you could ever be was with him.
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sword-and-sorrow · 1 year
Note
Shuonun had been at the resort all of four hours and already he was the least relaxed anyone had ever been while staying at such a place. His navy blue suit was too hot and itchy. His flight had been hell above earth, with turbulence all through it and a close call with almost losing his baggage. There had been a crying baby two rows behind him so he couldn't even sleep. Upon arriving, he had taken nearly two hours getting through customs and when he finally reached the resort there had been a problem with his room key. In an effort to calm himself he had taken a stroll along the beach, and was now reposing in the lounge listening a singer and a pianist. His gaze, however, was on a young man hanging around near the bar.
He could have clocked him a mile away. This man was not a guest. He was about Shuonun's age, perhaps a few years younger, and he didn't look tense but he wasn't relaxed. He was working. Shuonun knew what he was doing there as he watched him banter with the people on barstools. He was very pretty.
Like a ghost, he slipped towards him. He smiled and waved with his fingers before turning to the bar. He ordered himself a margarita, on the rocks, as well as "whatever he's having" with a thumb jerked toward Alex. He tipped the bartender generously and stepped back to wait for their drinks. As he did, he leaned in to whisper to Alex, "I've got a better view of the show from my seat. Join me?"
Alexander was in all honesty checking his phone to make sure that he had gotten paid from last night, looking up to shoot a fake sultry smile at his client when he discovered that he had been tipped extra. Furthermore, he hadn’t even done that much and slipped out of the other man’s bed early as he promised to, “not tell your wife, lay your handsome head down and just rest before she makes you go shopping with her tomorrow.”
Although he generally had a rule where he refused to service clients that were married, especially men, times were tough and he didn’t even know about it until after. Besides, his conscious could handle it after a few drinks and a hot shower.
He was contemplating that when Shuonun spoke to him, looking surprised for a moment. However, he quickly cleared his throat and smiled softly with a, “this is the best angle, you can hear everything that’s going on while also seeing how the pianist isn’t even playing the piano. It’s all a show, but I think that makes it all the more real.”
As he spoke, he looked directly into the other man’s eyes to signal that there was a double meaning to the sentence. However, when his eyes raked down Shuonun’s body, it was mostly to determine his wealth, if he was married, and why he was here. When he grasped the basic concept, he added a, “you’d understand that though, as a businessman. I can’t imagine the stress you’re under all the time because of it, it must really wind you up.”
Even what Alexander was wearing was elaborate and significant. The button up shirt was a bit too open, pants ever so slightly tighter than normal. He used his build to his advantage as well, knowing that whatever clients assumed about him was the role that he’d take. While he didn’t wear makeup, he’d admit to having a skincare regiment as well as styling his hair.
@hellachaotic
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cowgurrrl · 9 months
Note
I REALLY need some Joel fluff where reader says to him “I have loved you with all of my soul”
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT OVERBOARD SO HOPEFULLY ITS OKAY
Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was either gonna not write or write too much guess what happened
Summary: You and Joel finally get married [4.3k!!!!]
Warnings: wedding stress, quick quick mentions of smoking tobacco and marijuana, emotions, Hank Miller being the only southern boomer I care about, fluff :-)
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When you were growing up and imagining your wedding day, you never saw yourself getting married in Texas. But once you're in the throes of wedding planning, you very quickly realize you don't want to get married in California. Too many people. Too much of a chance of the paparazzi crashing the wedding. Too close to home. Joel talks about the idea of getting married in your home town which you veto immediately. He starts listing every location significant to you two, New York, Ireland, Spain, and even Australia, but none of them feel right. At one point, you even think about suggesting you just go to the courthouse and file the paperwork, but you know Joel's family would be heartbroken if you didn't have a "real" wedding. 
Filming has taken over a majority of your life, as it often does. Joel is in the process of creating his own record label with a studio to match. Ellie is looking at colleges and trying to figure out her next steps, while Sarah is already planning her move to Sacramento to pursue a job and her Master's degree. It feels like there will never be a right time for your wedding. One night, when you're on hour three of being hunched over your computer, looking at fucking floral arrangements, Joel comes up behind you and kneads relaxing circles into your neck with big hands. You sigh and lean back into him, pressing your head into his belly.
"I thought this was gonna be more fun." You mumble, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss the spot under your ear. 
"And I thought I told you to hire a wedding planner." He says. 
"I don't want a wedding planner. I just want a wedding." 
"Well, honey," you can hear him trying to hold in his laughter at your stubborn pouting. To his credit, he pulls it together. "We can find a way to make that happen, but for now, why don't you take a break? You can tell me all your wedding ideas while I pack our bags for Texas." He says, his thumbs adding a little more pressure to your sore muscles, and you melt into him. He could've asked you for the moon right then, and you would've said yes. 
"Only if you promise to tell me your ideas, too." 
"Deal." He says as he shuts your laptop and scoops you out of your chair. You spend the rest of the night debating cake flavors, groomsmen and bridesmaids, and where you want to go on your honeymoon. It's technically still wedding planning but all the light-hearted parts of wedding planning. You're grateful for the distraction. 
Two days later, you, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and the girls get on a flight back to Austin. Hank and Lucia are overdue for a visit anyways, and you figured getting out of California might help to clear your heads for a while. However, the boys immediately flee the scene when you arrive at the Miller Ranch. You and Lucia share a confused look as Hank leads them down a steep hill, pointing at a pasture and talking about something you can't hear, but decide to take it as an opportunity for girl time. 
You, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie spend the night drinking margaritas and exchanging stories. It's nice to giggle and talk with them like you're little girls again. In a way, they make you feel like you get a second chance at girlhood, and for that, you will always be grateful. Once it gets close to dinner time, the Miller men shuffle their way back inside the house, kick off their muddy boots, walk over to their partners, and kiss them sweetly. 
As one big blended family, you make dinner together. Lucia delegates tasks while Hank and the girls steal pieces of chicken when nobody's looking. Joel pretends to need something from the fridge to slide past you and smack your ass as he does. Lucia catches him, hits his arm, and yells at him in Spanish about being nice to you. "Mamá!" Joel tries to defend himself, but you just give him a look and leave him to be lectured at by his mother. Once dinner is ready, you all sit at the long table in the dining room and continue to laugh, talk, and be a family. Maria asks questions about wedding planning while Lucia (lovingly) interrogates Ellie and Sarah about their love lives. 
"Are you dating anyone, mija?" Lucia asks, gesturing to Sarah. Sarah shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and you know, even if she lied, her grandmother would see right through it.
"I actually met someone," she says. "His name is Ethan. He's a firefighter, and we met when someone pulled the fire alarm on campus." 
"He's really nice, Mamá," Joel jumps in before Lucia can continue her questions, raising his eyebrows at her. "We really like him." He looks at you like he's trying to show you how supportive he's being of Sarah's relationship even though it took him multiple meetings and several talks with both of you to approve of his daughter's choices. 
"Sarah, you didn't even tell her the best part." You poke, and Sarah sighs, already anticipating Lucia's reaction and making you smirk as you eat. 
"There's a best part?" Lucia asks. "Well, now you gotta tell me."
"Ethan speaks Spanish," Sarah says. Lucia got so excited you would've thought the second coming of Christ was happening in her living room. She immediately starts talking about coming to LA to meet him and his family or even flying them out to Austin to see the ranch. You can't help but smile as you watch them conspire together. 
Once everyone is full, the boys take the dirty plates to the kitchen to wash them while you and the other women put away the leftovers and clean the table. Joel waits until the dining room is back together before stealing you away from the chaos and bringing you outside. The sun setting over the Texas hill country takes your breath away as he walks you halfway between the house and the stables, with just enough acreage to not see too much of either. You can't believe how quiet it is out here. Once you get far enough out, Tommy and Hank come into view with little posts in the ground. 
"What's this?" You ask Joel as you get closer, and he smiles. He takes his hand in yours and stops walking to look at you. 
"I've been thinkin’, and I wanted to see what you thought about gettin’ married here." He says. 
"On the ranch?"
"Look, we've already mapped it all out," he says, leaving your side to walk to one of the posts. "This could be the dance floor, and over here," he walks a few feet to another post. "This could be where the tables get set up," he gestures before walking back over to you and pointing to a big white oak tree a couple hundred feet away. "And we could have the ceremony under that tree. Dad and Tommy already said they would help me put up some of those fairy lights you like so much. We could make it really nice." He says, and you glance between him and Hank and Tommy.
"Is this what you guys did all afternoon?" 
"Yes, ma'am," Hank says, and you smile. You look out at the painted sky with the wildflowers swaying in the breeze, and from this far out, you can see the comforting glow of light from the house. You can also spot a lazy Longhorn grazing in the pasture about half a mile away, completely unaware of the world around him. It's beautiful. And private. And so perfectly encompasses what you both want for the wedding. 
"You don't have to make a decision right now. I know it's a lot, but I thought it'd be fun." Joel says. You wrap your arms around his neck and step into him, smiling when his hands find your waist. 
"Let's do it." You say, and he lights up.
"Wait, really?"
"I never thought I'd say it, but yeah. Let's get married in Texas." The words are barely out of your mouth before he picks you up off the ground and spins you around giddily. He kisses you to seal the deal, and Tommy and Hank cheer from their spots. 
After that, wedding planning really ramps up. You set an official date. You make Carolina your Maid of Honor, and Ryan agrees to stand in as your officiant after Lucia determines he's "just Catholic enough." Elizabeth gets the responsibility of ring bearer since she's a little older, while Victoria is the flower girl. You quickly add Sarah, Ellie, and Maria to your wedding party after assuring Ellie that she can wear whatever she wants. Joel makes Tommy his Best Man and asks his band to be his groomsmen. Even though Wayne is the only other guy in the band, they all say yes and don't even blink at the idea of having to fly to Texas. 
The next few months are a blur of flower orders, cake tastings, schedule workarounds, and more. Carolina, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie go dress shopping with you. You were initially just going to send some ideas to your stylist for her to make you a dress, but they were all vehemently against that idea. It takes a couple different stores and a handful of different dresses, but you finally find a sleek silk dress with a lace bodice that makes everyone, including you, cry when you stand in the mirror. Your bridesmaids find their outfits in no time, and Carolina gets cute little dresses for the girls. 
You only invite the really important people and a photographer. You only tell a few people outside the guests and the wedding party when and where you're getting married. It's none of their business. This is just for your family. No outsiders. You don't even hire a DJ. Tommy just agrees to bring a big speaker, and you sit down to make a playlist with Joel about a month before the wedding.
Your crew of people descend upon Austin the week of your wedding, ready to work together to turn the Miller Ranch into a dream location. Thankfully, Hank and Lucia have gathered their own community of people and already have half the work done by the time you come up the long dirt driveway. Ryan helps Hank, Tommy, and his buddies hang lights in the tree. Carolina and Sarah help Lucia, and her friends put together centerpieces. Joel's band and Ellie set up tables and the dance floor. Whenever you or Joel try to help or lend a hand, someone ends up shooing you away and telling you to relax. They only listen to either of you when you're giving direction on how you want things to go. 
You keep the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties to a minimum, only going out to a few bars far from Sixth Street and spending most of the time getting drunk in the guest house turned Bridal Suite. You're pretty sure Hank gave Joel and the groomsmen cigars, which is fine as long as they don't find out you gave the bridesmaids weed. It's nice to not have to worry about nosy people or cameras ruining the days leading up to your wedding. The quiet, giggly privacy is all you want. It also helps to clear your head when writing your vows.
From the beginning, you and Joel decided you wanted to write your own vows instead of using the archaic, pre-written ones. You just didn't know then how hard it would be to find the right things to say. You ask Carolina, Lucia, and Maria for advice, but they just tell you the same cheesy line of "writing from your heart." While it's incredibly sweet, it's not exactly helpful. The night before the wedding, Sarah and Ellie sneak into your room for one last sleepover before you marry Joel, and you ask them for help. You read them what you've already written and catch them both wiping tears as you recite it. They give you logical advice and stay up with you to rewrite your vows until they're perfect. You fall asleep with them tucked under your arms like babies despite them being twenty-two and eighteen. 
In the morning, everyone piles into your room with plates of breakfast and mimosas from the main house. You're not allowed to leave the guest house because they think if you see Joel before the ceremony, it'll be bad luck. You're not sure you believe that, but you'll take the excuse to get other people to run things to and from the house. Ellie plays music from her speaker as everyone picks a corner to do their hair and makeup in, and you spend the first half of the day getting ready and spending time with the most important women in your life. They help you into your dress once the photographer arrives to take pre-wedding photos of you guys, but everyone is a crying mess once you're all dressed up with the dress, veil, and everything. 
Many, many sweet words and hugs are exchanged, and the photographer catches all of them. Sarah and Ellie surprise you with new earrings from Joel and a beautiful necklace they picked out for the wedding. Sarah helps you put on the earrings while Ellie clasps the necklace around your neck. You give the girls rings that match the one you've been hiding in plain sight on your right ring finger for weeks now. "For as much as I'm promising to love your dad today, I'm also promising to love you guys with everything I am for as long as I am," you say, tears springing in your eyes as you hand the delicate rings to them. They're crying, too, but they're holding it together a little bit better than you are. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And I hope I never forget just how lucky I am to have two of the most extraordinary women in the world in my life." After all these years, it feels like you're finally becoming the family you always knew you were. 
The rest of the day goes by way too fast. One minute you're hugging Sarah and Ellie, and the next, your arm is tucked under Hank's as your bridesmaids and goddaughters slowly walk down the aisle. Your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, and you feel like you can't breathe, but you know once you see Joel, you'll feel completely at peace. You go from fiddling with your bouquet to your engagement ring to even readjusting Hank's tie as Alex plays an instrumental version of your favorite ABBA song. 
"Honey, look at me," Hank says gently. You meet his green eyes, and he smiles as he puts a hand over yours and squeezes. "Take a breath," he says. He demonstrates with an exaggerated inhale in case you forgot and you copy him. Together, you take three big breaths, and once the last of the Texas air leaves your lungs, Hank squeezes your hand again. "Now, I know I really shouldn't be sayin' this since that's my boy up there, but if you've gone and changed your mind, I'll bring my truck round the corner and drive you wherever you needa go." You laugh at his words and shake your head. 
"I kinda love him, so I think I'll be okay, but thank you." You try to brush it off, but your anxiety still lingers. Hank nods and bumps you with his shoulder.
"For what it's worth, I was scared shitless the day I married Lucia." He whispers like it's a secret, and you look at him.
"Really?"
"Really," he confirms. "We were so goddamn young and thought we were so grown up. I remember seein' her walkin' down the aisle and just thinkin' bout how I was gonna support her and give her the life she deserved. I didn't know if I was man enough to do it. I almost started cryin' just cause of that."
"What changed?" You ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His hair moves with the wind, and for a second, you get a glimpse of what Joel could look like at his age. And it doesn't scare you.
"She smiled at me, and I was done for. I knew if I didn't marry her, I was gonna be kickin' myself for the rest of my life," he finds the back of Lucia's head as Tommy and Carolina pass her, and he smiles. "Still the best decision I ever made." You take a deep breath and realize the line of wedding party is getting shorter and shorter as each pair is dispatched down the aisle. Your heart is still beating fast, but you feel less sick and more excited about getting to see Joel after not seeing him all day. You squeeze Hank's hand again before sliding it under his arm and resting your head on his shoulder. 
"Ready, baby girl?" He asks as he kisses your head, and you nod. With Hank's strong arm leading the way, you start walking down the aisle and immediately lock eyes with Joel. He starts crying, which makes you start crying so much you have to blink several times to see how handsome he looks in his suit. Hank kisses your cheek as you reach the aisle's end before hugging Joel and handing you off to him. You turn around, give Carolina your bouquet, and take Joel's hands.
"You look so beautiful," Joel whispers, and you sniffle.
"Thank you," you whisper back. "You look pretty handsome yourself." 
"Gucci," he mouths, gesturing to his suit, and you nod your approval. It's silly enough to break the emotional tension as Ryan starts speaking, even though you're not really listening. He says something to appease Lucia's Catholic roots before talking about how important and beautiful marriage is, but you can't stop staring at Joel. It's only when Ryan says your name and the word 'vows' do you snap back to reality. Carolina quickly supplies you with the scribbled-on paper and a tissue because nobody knows you as well as she does, and you squeeze Joel's hand.
"Joel, it seems hard to remember a time when we weren't together and even harder to remember what my life was like before I met you. I did and accomplished so many important things, but nothing seemed as important or special once you and the girls came into my life. You three became my entire world, and for that alone, I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for that gift," you say. "When I was trying to write my vows, I honestly didn't know where to start. Instead of struggling by myself, I asked the two people who've been there since the beginning of our relationship: Sarah and Ellie. After giving me lots of advice and all but forcing me to add something about loving you even though you snore," you and Joel laugh.
"Sarah told me it might be a good idea to write about the very first time I realized I loved you, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I couldn't pinpoint one specific day or time. There was never a moment of clarity or realization when it came to you. Loving you came easily and naturally, like breathing, and once I realized it, I knew there was no going back. You were and still are the person I want to spend my life with. Our story is not traditional or necessarily one for the history books, and I think you'd agree with me," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel's thumb brushes against your knuckles softly. 
"We've had setbacks and hard times. Everything from moving across the world to trying to remember who loaded the dishwasher last but through everything, you were my home. My safe place. My reason to keep going. And if historians in a hundred years pay us any attention, I hope they write about how protected you made me feel. I hope they talk about how we found ways to laugh together even when it felt hard. I hope they spend hours and hours lecturing about how much I loved you because I do. I have loved you with all my soul for as long as I can remember, and I will keep loving you like that until long after I forget the exact details of our first date. Thank you for choosing me." You sniffle, fold your paper back up, and wipe under your eyes with Carolina's tissue. Various sniffles and tears rake over your guests and wedding party as Tommy hands Joel his vows with wet eyes. 
"When I first moved to LA with Sarah, I didn't know what was gonna happen. I didn't know I'd have another daughter, my band, or meet the love of my life. The day we met, I remember thinkin' I'd never known anybody as witty or smart as you, and I still think that. But now, after so many years, I know you're more than that. You're brave, kind, talented, hard-working, and way out of my league," he says, and you laugh. "The first time I remember realizin' just what an amazing person you are was when I told you about Sarah and Ellie. Other people would be freaked out or even upset if they found out the person they'd been datin' had kids. You weren't. You asked questions about them and were selfless with your time so I could be with the girls when they needed a little extra love and care. And when you met them, you treated them like you'd known them your whole life. You treated them like you're own," he squeezes your hand a little hard like he's trying to find the strength to continue. "That's when I knew I was gonna marry you,"
"I trusted you then with the two people closest to my heart and it's safe to say you'll always be the one I trust with the girls. You'll always be the one I trust to get me out of bed on time. You'll always be the one I trust to help me make fashion choices. You'll always be the one I trust to be patient with me and get coffee when we need to recharge because you're my person. I love you, and I'll love you when I'm old and wrinkly and can't hear for shit. And you'll know all my stories, and I'll know all your movies by heart, and we'll laugh for years and years. I can't wait to start forever with you." He almost wipes his eyes with his vows, and you quickly switch his hands, making him laugh.
I love you, he mouths.
I love you, too, you mouth back.
Everyone, including Ryan, takes a second to sit in their emotions before taking a deep breath and coming back together. He calls Elizabeth forward, and you exchange rings. Joel stands up a little straighter the second the gold band is placed on his left hand, and you smile. Ryan clears his throat, eyes shining as he stares at you two and opens his mouth.
"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" He announces. Your few guests cheer loudly as Joel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. Wildflower petals scatter around you, and the sun is setting behind the altar, but nothing matters as much as your husband does now. He kisses you a few more times before finally pulling away and joining the cheering. You walk back up the aisle, now married, and everyone follows after you.
The reception after is perfect with all your favorite foods and desserts, including Lucia's Texas Trash Pie, which makes your mouth water just looking at it. People hug you and Joel and offer congratulations and even a few sweet tears at the ceremony. Carolina and Tommy deliver amazing, hilarious speeches honoring both of you, and then it's finally time to dance. You and Joel chose "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and Harry James for your first dance, and under the fairy lights and setting Texas sun, you realize just how perfect a choice it was. 
You bury your head in his neck and sway slowly with him, basking in the tenderness of being so close to him. He sings along quietly and kisses the shell of your ear as you dance. Towards the end, you spot Ellie and Sarah standing beside the dance floor and wave them to you behind Joel's back. They hesitate for a second before running to join you. Joel tucks each girl under his arm and kisses their foreheads. The four of you make for an awkward little slow dance, but you're all giggling and smiling despite it. 
As the song ends, Joel escorts the three of you off the dance floor before grabbing Lucia for the mother-son dance. Lucia is so short compared to Joel that it's almost impossible not to smile. Still, he's slow and careful with her, and his eyes sparkle as they converse secretly. You catch Hank watching them through teary eyes nearby, and a secret plan hatches in your brain. Quickly, you rush over to where your phone is connected to the speaker and queue up an acoustic version of “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner. When Lucia and Joel's song ends, you grab Hank's hand and pull him onto the floor as the song starts playing. 
"Now, what are you doin'?" He asks as you put your hands on his shoulders.
"You never got to have a father-daughter dance. I figured you should get at least one." You explain. Tears fill his eyes almost instantly, and you smile when he holds you close. 
"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "For everythin'." 
"I should be thanking you and Lucia. You raised my husband."
The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and spending time with your favorite people. You’re not exactly sure how long you were out there celebrating but you do know that your feet were sore and your brain utterly fried from the long, emotional day. Joel carries you to bed bridal style and carefully lays you down, doing his best not to rip your dress as he helps you slip your shoes off. Together, you undo your hair, take off your makeup, take off and hang up your dress, and change into one of Joel’s shirt before crawling into bed.
“Tired?” Joel asks as he starts shedding his wedding clothes too and you nod into the pillow.
“Sorry for not, like, wanting to consummate our marriage right now.” You say, and he laughs. It’s that delirious, breathless laughter where you’re not sure if the joke was actually that funny or if the reaction to it is. You laugh too and watch his nose scrunch up and his body shake with joy. He steps out of his slacks, presses a knee into the mattress to lean over you, and kisses you sweetly.
“Don’t worry bout that,” he mumbles against you. “We’ve got our whole lives.”
Once he’s finished changing, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to rub your back. You can feel his wedding band getting caught in the fabric but you don’t say anything. You fall asleep in his arms, full of love, Texas Trash Pie, and giddy excitement at what the future holds. How could you not when you get to spend it with him?
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