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#maybe she's his ex wife's friend or they work together or she works with his ex or anything rly that works for you!
lovecharged · 10 months
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starter for @intcxications for kwan + sarah based on 19MF from this meme.
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kwan knows this shouldn't be happening, yet he's in no state of mind and far from eager to have it stop anytime soon. sarah feels incredible; as he rocks his hips up and fills her up with his cock. one hand is grasping at her hips, the other holding the arm of the couch firm. so he can put his all into driving his cock deeper inside of her, losing his mind within the feeling. it's so rare for him to really let go, to do what he wants to do. kwan lived for order, for doing what was right and appropriate and respectful, but something about her ignited a deeper hunger from the pit of the man's stomach, consuming him to the fullest. "fuck, you feel so fucking good around my cock," he gasps out his praise, cannot recall the last time that he'd had sex this good, that had felt this good. he's hungry for her in ways he'd never been hungry for anyone, even his ex-wife. one hand slips and he's, without a word of warning, rubbing his middle finger against her clit, as he continues to fuck up into her, desperate to have her cum around his cock. "you like that, baby?"
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ceilidho · 6 months
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Hello~ new lurker here. I've been daydreaming about Price wanting a family, but not having the time to court someone, and two other possible scenarios came to kind.
Reader, not part of his team but works at the same base, who was just served divorce papers. She wanted kids, the soon to be ex-husband didn't and he found someone else. She doesn't *know* how to be a girlfriend anymore. She only knows how to be a wife.
Or
It's family day on base. Price is wistfully watching families show up for their soldiers. And overhears someone who is in the same boat as him.
"don't be getting babyfever."
"Too late. Want a baby. I want something worth retiring for."
you're hitting all my buttons with this :\\ I'm realllyyyyyy going heart eyes at the first idea though.
Poor reader who maybe got married knowing that her husband wasn't interested in having kids but hoping that she could change his mind. Then maybe accepting a childless marriage after years of being together, but always felt like she was giving up something immeasurably valuable to her, like giving away the future she'd always envisioned for herself.
Only to get hit with divorce papers after giving up so much of herself for her husband. She signs them in a daze because he's already moved in with his new girlfriend and she couldn't bear the humiliation of trying to beg for him to come back when he's already so clearly moved on.
Maybe Price has always been interested in her, but respected the ring on her finger and figured that he was just too late. A damn shame, but over the years that they've worked together, he's come to treasure her companionship. He treats himself to daydreams, to quick wanks in the shower before work so that he doesn't spend the day looking for her or hovering over her shoulder when he finds her. So he can pretend at being normal.
And his brain short circuits when she stops by his office one day and he glances down to her hands out of habit only to find them bare. No ring. Glances up again and really looks at her this time, the troughs under her eyes, dark circles from poor sleep, from crying, cheeks losing a bit of their plumpness from not eating right. Price doesn't even listen to the words coming out of her mouth, some request from her superior that she'd been tasked with bringing to him. It all falls to the wayside because her ring is gone.
He lets her confide in him, gives her his shoulder to cry on. Locks the door to his office and pulls her into his lap even though it's not appropriate, he's not her direct superior but he is a superior. He shouldn't be brushing his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears and speaking to her in a low, hushed voice, exhorting her to tell him everything weighing on her. He shouldn't be pitting her against her ex, telling her that he'll help her sell the house (she can't afford to buy her husband's half since it's in both of their names) and she can stay with him in the meantime.
He shouldn't feed into her anguish by telling her that he understands her pain. How much he's longer for a baby as well, just never found the right person, the right partner. The big, empty hole in his life that he's never been able to fill with work or friends or extended family. He shouldn't indulge himself in the way crying makes her pretty lips swell and her eyes go big and watery. He shouldn't nudge her into agreeing to move in with him when she's this vulnerable, still beaten up and hurt from signing the papers not even a few days ago.
He does anyway though :\\
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smileysuh · 22 days
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comfort cuisine - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
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“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
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arlana-likes-to-write · 10 months
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Marry Me
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Summary: Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying your girlfriend of two years but she broke up with you before you had the chance to ask her for her hand. Now with a wedding invitation in your hand, she's getting married but she's not marrying you.
Pairings: Past!Wanda Maximoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader
Warnings: mention of cheating, angst with a happy ending, modern AU, no powers/Avengers, Starks aren't dead and decent parents lol
Word Count: 4.4k
‘Together with their families Wanda and Vision invite you to their wedding,’ the world around you seemed to become white noise. You didn’t hear your roommate talk about some guy that stood her up or the weatherman talking about the weather. Nothing else seemed to matter. “Are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t. That’s what you wanted to say but you stayed frozen, unable to speak. Sarah snatched the invitation out of your hand. You didn’t bother to stop her. “No fucking way this bitch invited you to her wedding,” Sarah had strong feelings about the ending of your relationship with Wanda. She had every right to be upset as she was the one to mend the broken pieces. “Are you going?”
“Fuck Sarah I don’t know,” you glanced at the time on the stove. “And I do not have time for this.” You were supposed to have a quick lunch at home and then return to the office for a meeting with important investors. Being blindsided by an invite to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was something you didn’t have time for. “I have to go. Just leave it on the fridge,” you grabbed your backpack. Lunch was a protein bar and a banana.
“Hey, dumbass,” you stopped at the door, turning to face your roommate. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes.
“Love you too, dumbass.” You walked out of your apartment, not bothering with the elevator. It was a beautiful sunny day, a stark contrast to the emotions that were swirling inside of you. Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying Wanda. You were together for 2 years and knew every detail of how she wanted the wedding to be. It would be out in the country, not too many people to save on money. Maybe on an apple orchard or magnolia trees surrounding the ceremony. You would have given her everything, no matter the cost, and you were looking at rings to buy. Then she broke up with you. It was rather sudden, out of the blue, and she never gave you a good enough explanation. She told you that she fell out of love with you. A month later, she and Vision started dating. Sarah figured she was cheating on you. You couldn’t stomach that possibility.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony said as the elevator’s door opened to his office. You rolled your eyes and sat down in the empty chair in front of his desk. You gave Pepper a small smile.
“I’m technically early,” you opened the protein bar. “I got distracted at home.” Tony sent a questioning look to his wife.
“Do you want-?”
“No,” you cut him off. “Let’s begin.” You got out your tablet and the meeting began without a second thought. You were the Chief Entrepreneur of Stark Industries. Your parents were close friends with the Starks and you and Tony grew up together. He was the brother you never had. So when Howard stepped down as Executive Chairman, Tony took over and promoted Pepper to CEO and you to Chief Entrepreneur. You were responsible for managing a portfolio of entrepreneurs. Your team was the future of Stark Industries, taking on risks and coming up with new products while Pepper ran the company. You didn’t envy her job and you loved working here. It was the best part of your day. However, it got uncomfortable and awkward when you had to deal with the CFO, who happened to be Vision and Tony’s brother.
They weren’t related by blood but you knew that made no difference, you were close with Natasha and Yelena. Howard and Maria adopted Vision when you and Tony were in high school. He was two years younger than you. You remembered the day when Vision and Wanda announced their relationship so clearly. Tony dragged you into his office and asked if you wanted him to fire Vision and kick his ass. You told him that it wasn’t necessary. You were professional and respectful with the man. It was rare that your paths crossed. You only had to be in the same room as him during company-wide meetings or meetings with investors. Of course, you had one today. The universe was testing you.
Once Tony concluded the meeting, you and Pepper left his office. It was rare that he came to these types of meetings as he trusted you and Pepper to make the right calls regarding the company. You both stopped to make a quick coffee. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Are you helping Wanda with her wedding?”
“She’s asked me for some advice here and there,” she looked at you curiously. “Why?”
“Do you know why she invited me then?” In hindsight, you probably should have waited for the CEO to not be taking a sip of her coffee before dropping the news. She coughed, choking on the hot liquid. You bite your lip, trying to get your laughter under control, and rubbed her back to help her calm down. “Sorry.” You giggled. She waved you off and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“It’s fine,” she cleared her throat. “She invited you to her wedding.” You nodded as you continued on your way to the board room.
“I got the invitation today,” you said. “It was why I was late, kind of took me by surprise.” You took a sip of your coffee.
“Shit, I don’t blame you,” you giggled. You loved Pepper. She was a perfect fit for Tony. She was the only one that could reel in your brother’s energy. “Are you going to go?” You didn’t answer. “Tony is Vision’s best man and I know Wanda asked Natasha to be her maid of honor.” You weren’t surprised by that. Natasha was the reason Wanda was part of your workgroup and how you met her. The redhead held onto a lot of guilt because of what happened. You didn’t blame her.
“Not sure, Pep. We will see,” you saw Yelena and Natasha waiting for you and you quickened your pace. Natasha was the Chief of Staff and the first person you hired when you got promoted. She helped you manage executive goals and you trusted her to oversee projects you didn’t have time for. You worried when your relationship ended with Wanda your friendship would the redhead was going to be jeopardized. It wasn’t and a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Are you ready?” You asked Yelena when you got closer. The blonde was the reason you were having the meeting. She was a new hire but there was no limit to the ideas she had. Her latest project would partner Stark Industries with Wakandans International to develop a better prosthetic.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” her Russian accent took you by surprise when you first met her as Natasha introduced her as her sister. You laughed, shaking your head.
“Don’t be nervous,” she gave you a pointed look. “Come here,” you dragged her away from her sister and Pepper to a more private area. “You are going to kill it today. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because you have a passionate for this project on a level I’ve never seen before,” she began to smile. “And you have the support of everyone at this company, okay?”
“Okay,” you smiled.
“Just go in there and speak with the same passion you had when you explained it to me and you’ll do great.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you having some much faith in me,” you put your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.
“No need to thank me,” you brought her back over to her sister with her hand still on her shoulder. You didn’t miss the questioning look the redhead sent you and you removed your hand quickly. “Shall we?” You opened the door for your group and everyone found their seats to wait for the others.
The meeting went…okay. You introduced everyone to Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. You’ve spoken to the trip on the phone but it was nice to meet them in person. Yelena began to present her research and the importance of the partnership but Vision questioned every little thing to an annoying degree. You understood it was his job to understand how this would affect the company financially however it was starting to piss you off. Even Yelena knew he was getting on your nerves as you tirelessly defended everyone in your group. The glares he was sending your way weren’t helping. Was there trouble in paradise?
In the end, the deal was signed and work with the Wakandans could being. Plus, you didn’t murder your ex’s fiance so it was a win-win in your book.
*
You loved when a new deal was signed. It meant an influx of projects for your team to work on and more people to help. But the first day was meant with paperwork, scheduling, and delegating responsibilities. And meetings. So many meetings. You were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a beer. You were putting on your headphones as you exited the elevator and headed for the door but a voice calling out your name caused you to stop. It was a voice you knew so well. “Wanda,” you said as your ex-girlfriend approached you. She looked good, wearing a long dress that touched the ground. Her hands were resting in front of her and she was playing with the rings that were on her fingers. A tale sign of her anxiety. “What are you doing here?” You questioned.
“Waiting for Vision,” Right. Of course, she was. That was a stupid question. “He said you and Yelena closed on a big deal.”
“We did,” you said. “Yelena did a majority of the work. I just guided her in the right direction.” You saw a strange emotion flash across her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came so you couldn’t place it.
“Well congratulations,” you smiled as your thanks. An awkward beat of silence passed between you two. God, you didn’t know how to get out of this conversation. “Did you get your invitation?”
“Uh yes, I did,” Great. This is exactly where you didn’t want this conversation to go. “It was beautifully designed.” It wasn’t a total lie, you just had no memory of what it looked as you stared at the tagline - ‘Wanda and Vision invite you.’ Wanda and Vision. She wanted to get married but she wasn’t marrying you.
“Do you think-” your name being called out cut her off and you turned towards the sound. It was Yelena. You didn’t realize the blonde was still at the office and you never been more excited to see her.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.” She said as she got closer. “Oh hi, Wanda.” The blonde plastered a fake smile on her face.
“Hi Yelena,” the smile on Wanda’s face was strained. Yelena looked at you.
“Ready to go get drinks?” Drinks? Her green eyes said a lot more than her simple statement. She was giving you an out. You made a mental note to increase her yearly bonus.
“I am,” you smiled at your ex. “It was good seeing you, Wanda. I’ll see you around.”
“Of course,” she said. “Congratulations, again. You both deserve to celebrate.” Yelena linked her arm with yours.
“Bye Wands,” the blonde dragged you to the door. When you both stepped outside and you were out of sight, Yelena dropped her arm. “Boy, you could feel the tension in the lobby.” You let out a relieved sigh.
“Thank you for the save,” you said. “I owe you one.” She shrugged.
“Don’t mention it. I do it a lot for Kate and America when we go out. It’s second nature,” she started to smile. Oh, that smile was trouble. “Buuuut, if you want to make it up to me I know of a bar that is close by. We do have something to celebrate.”
“Hmm,” you placed your hand on your chin pretending to think. “I don’t think we have anything to celebrate,” you teased. “And I am pretty tired.” You faked a yawn.
“Suka (bitch),” you pushed on your shoulder. You gasped.
“That is assault,” you said. “I’m calling HR.” Yelena rolled her eyes.
“Are we going or not?”
“Lead the way, printsessa (princess),” you bowed. She laughed, throwing her head back at your pathetic attempt at Russian. You liked the sound of it.
*
“I still can’t believe you are going to this stupid wedding,” Sarah said through Face time. You sighed as you put your tie underneath the collar of your shirt. “And you didn’t even bring me.”
“I didn’t have a plus one,” that was 100% on purpose. The last thing Wanda would have wanted was for your best friend that wasn’t her number 1 fan to come to her wedding. “What else was I supposed to do? Tony closed the office because everyone was invited and you are visiting family.” You weren’t going to sit at home and be depressed. At least some of your friends were going to be there, but most importantly Yelena. “You put your jacket on. “How do I look?” You were in an all-gray suit with a white shirt. The only pop of color came from your tie.
“Hot,” Sarah said. “Damn if I were into chicks I’d grab you.” You rolled your eyes.
“Thanks,” you sighed, looking down at the watch Howard gave you for your 18th birthday. “I better get going. I’ll text you after the ceremony.”
“Good luck!” You ended the call. You were going to need more than you, what you needed was at least 5 shots.
*
The ceremony was in an apple orchard. It appeared the happy couple rented out the inn and the orchard for a private wedding. You were handed confetti as you approached the rows of seats. There were small groups of people, all of them you knew, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You saw Pepper, who sent you a small wave. You waved back and sat in the back row at the end of the row. Thankfully, no one came up to you to talk because you weren’t in the talking mood. Instead, you played with the watch on your wrist. “Well,” you looked towards the voice and saw Howard Stark. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“Mr. Stark,” you stood up, holding out your hand for him to shake. The man rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.
“Please. I changed your diapers when you were a kid,” you felt your body heat up in embarrassment. “Drop the act, kid, it makes me feel old,” you smiled and sat down, leaving the end seat for him. “How are you? You don’t come by the house anymore.” That was true. You didn’t want to run into Wanda or Vision by chance.
“I’ve been busy,” you told him. “Your son is running me ragged.” It was the furthest thing from the truth but it pulled a laugh out of the older man.
“It was the best decision that boy has ever made promoting you and Pepper,” you smiled. “But how are you?” He asked again. “How is this?” He placed a gentle hand on your heart. You sighed, looking at the ceremony. This was going to be you, marrying Wanda but she picked someone else.
“Tired, Howard, if I’m being honest. I feel a little lost,” he nodded. You knew the man would never judge you. He’s seen you at your lowest point when you found out your parents were killed in a car accident. You were in a meeting with him and Tony when Maria came in to tell you. Losing them broke you but the Starks were there to catch you. It was why it hurt so much that it was Vision who started dating Wanda.
“I always told my boys to go after what they wanted, I never expected that advice to hurt someone I considered a daughter,” your breath hitched. You always so him as a father-like figured but hearing him call you his daughter brought tears to your eyes. You looked at the archway. You didn’t blame him. “But,” he grabbed onto your shoulder. “You will have your love story that will arrival that of your parents and I can’t wait to see it,” you fought the tears that threatened to fall. “You will always be a Stark, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered.
“Now I must be going but we will drink at the bar,” he stood up fixing his tie. “I believe I’m paying for it so drinks are on me.” You laughed, whipping away a tear.
“Thank you, Howard,” he gave you a salute and got ready for the ceremony. Folding your hands you sat back and watched as the seats began to fill. Soft music began to play and you were going to need a drink after this.
*
You took a glance at the seating chart. Table 3 with Natasha, Bucky, and Yelena. You were grateful she did that for you. Did you look like an alcoholic as you were the first one to the bar? Probably but you didn’t care. Besides you knew everyone at this wedding and it wasn’t like you were here to impress anyone. You ordered a strawberry mojito and waited for your drink as the rest of the guests filed in. “You know,” you turned to face Yelena as she walked over to you. She was wearing a light green full-length dress. It had a deep v-neck and a slit that went up to her thigh. Her blonde hair was braided. “I did not believe my sister when she said you’d RSVP but here you are.” She ordered herself a long island.
“Yelena,” you said. “You look gorgeous.” The compliment flowed so easily off your lips. You liked the blush that crept up on her cheeks.
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she fixed the collar of your shirt. “How did you enjoy the ceremony?” She got her drink from the bartender.
“I’m glad to be drinking,” you said, holding out your arm. She took it and you walked her over to your table. The blonde laughed.
“Well, it’s an open bar. So let’s drink till our heart’s content.”
The reception was fun. The first dance was beautiful and speeches made by Tony and Pietro made you laugh. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t paying attention. You found yourself watching Yelena. You weren’t sure when your feelings shifted for the blonde. Since the partnership with the Wakandans, you and she spent late nights at the office. Those nights were filled with laughter, stories, and dreams shared, and stressing over upcoming deadlines. For the first time since your breakup with Wanda, you felt free. Even Tony said something about your mode change.
Natasha sat down next to you with another drink. “I love that you’ve moved on from Wanda,” she handed you the drink. “But can you stop undressing my sister in front of me?” You jumped, startled by the accusation.
“Nat, shit, I’m sorry,” her laughter cut your nervous rambling off. “That’s not funny,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. It was a lot stronger than your other ones. You wondered if she made it herself.
“I think it’s hilarious,” she leaned back in her chair. “So are you going to ask her out or just stare at her all night?” You groaned, rubbing your hands across your face.
“I don’t know,” your eyes immediately went back to the blonde. She was standing with Kate and Carol. The brunette must have said something funny because she laughed. God, she was beautiful. She must have felt eyes on her because she looked around until her green eyes found you. She waved and you waved back.
“Look, I’m going to intervene because I love you both. She likes you so make a move,” you looked at the redhead, trying to find any sense that she was messing with you. But you found none.
“Are you sure okay with this?” You questioned. “Because if you aren’t I will ignore my feelings for her,” Natasha put her hand on your shoulder.
“She will treat you better than Wanda,” she squeezed. “And if she does anything to hurt you. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” You covered your mouth as you laughed to now draw attention to you. “Go be happy.” You stood up, grabbing your drink.
“Thank you,” you began to walk over to the blonde. You were nervous. If she was going to allow you to date her, it would be different than dating Wanda. You worked with her, you were technically her superior. If it ended as badly, it could affect the work dynamic. But you couldn’t think like that. You had to take it one step at a time.
“Hi,” Wanda stepped in front of you. She changed out of her wedding dress and into a shorter one. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night.”
“Must be hard being the woman of the hour,” you took a sip of your drink and locked eyes with Yelena over Wanda’s shoulder. You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda chuckled, sipping on her drink. It wasn’t her normal cocktail, which was strange unless being with Vision changed her that much.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” You didn’t but you nodded. She led you to a balcony, and your surprise there was no one out there. She leaned her back against the metal railing. Her hands were on her stomach, playing with the wedding ring. It hit you. The drink wasn’t alcoholic, her hands on her stomach. You took a sip of your drink.
“Your pregnant,” you said. She almost dropped her glass.
“How did-” she cut herself off with a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You moved to stand next to her. “It was impossible to keep things from you.” ‘I guess you found a way,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue.
“How long?”
“2 months,” That was why they got together so quickly. That was why the engagement came out of nowhere. She cheated on you. Your stomach dropped. “Y/n-” she went to touch your arm but you jerked away from her.
“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t try to justify your cheating on me.” Oh, Sarah was going to have a field day with this. You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you happy?” It took a moment for her to reply.
“I am,” you nodded.
“Then go be happy with Vision and I’ll be happy with someone else. Have a nice life.” You turned to leave.
“With Yelena,” you didn’t like how she said her name. A hint of dislike and jealousy. When you faced her she was already looking at you. That same look was in her eyes that night in the lobby. She was jealous and possessive. Oh, it was comical.
“Don’t say her name like that,” you said, closing the gap between you and your ex. “Do you want to know the difference between me and you? You moved on while we were still together and didn’t have the guts to call it off because you slept with someone else. You have no right to be jealous over something you have no claim to. See around Wanda,” You waved over your shoulder as you walked back into the party. Drowning the rest of your drink, you saw that Yelena was still talking to Kate but America joined them. You through your cup away and walked over to the trio. You placed your hand on Yelena’s back as you approached them. The blonde looked at you, smiling. “Mind if I burrow her?” Kate and America smirked at each other.
“She’s all yours,” you thank them and moved your hand into hers, leading her out of the party. She squeezed your hand every few seconds, singling she was still with you. Finally, you stepped outside.
“I was going to give you 5 more minutes with her before I went and saved you,” you smiled, bringing her closer to you. She set her drink on the table. God, she was gorgeous. The lights danced in her green eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” You asked the urge was becoming too strong to ignore.
“Please,” she whispered. You connected your lips with hers without a moment’s hesitation. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to her. You felt her smile against your lips. Soon you pulled away but you kept her close, feeling her breath against your lips and her heartbeat racing. “I’m sorry about Wanda.” The mention of your ex snapped you out of your haze.
“Did you know?” She looked away, glancing at the reception through the window. But you gently placed a finger underneath her chin to look at you.
“I did but I’m not even sure if Natasha and Tony know and I thought she told you,” she was working herself into a panic attack. You brushed your nose against hers and captured her lips in a quick kiss. She calmed down. “I caught them at the office. It was late like so fucking late,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what the hell I stumbled on. I think you were with Tony on a business trip to Japan,” you remembered that trip. You didn’t want to go as you and Wanda were planning on going to visit her family. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or her being so close, you weren’t sure why she was apologizing. But that brain power was for the future, sober you to figure out.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” that much you knew. You didn’t blame her. “We’re okay.” She let out a sigh. “Do you want to get out of here?” A playful smirk formed on her lips.
“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”
*
Wanda stood in her kitchen, listening to her twins playing with their toys with the TV on with the latest episode of Bluey, as she flipped through the mail. A majority of it was junk mail; magazines she didn’t remember signing up for or ads trying to get her to buy something. Her fingers stopped on an envelope addressed to her and Vision written in beautiful writing. She ripped it open and stared at the invitation, ‘You are invited to the wedding of Yelena and Y/n, with a reception to follow.’
_
Part 2
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gardenschedule · 14 days
Text
What Happened In India?
(or around that time...)
Before
Shortly before we were due to leave for India John spent the weekend with Derek Taylor, a former journalist who had become the Beatles' press spokesman and a good friend to us all. He, his wife Joan and their five children lived in a big country house where they seemed incredibly contented. When he came home after that weekend John put his arms around me and said, 'Let's have loads more kids, Cyn, and be really happy' Despite my increasingly strong feeling that John was slipping away from me, it seemed at moments like that as though nothing had changed. John was off drugs and seemed almost like his old self. 'We can make it work, Cyn,' he said. 'When we're in India we'll have time for us and everything will be fine.' I hoped he was right.
John (Cynthia Lennon)
Cyn hoped that Rishikesh would afford seclusion, privacy and an opportunity for her and John to rediscover each other and to revive their marriage. ‘Impossible hopes,’ she said sadly. ‘John said to me just before we went to India that he wanted us to have more children. Well that came out of the blue, I can tell you. I was really surprised, as he’d never said a word about that before.
Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon
Cynthia: “It was a time for us all to drop out for a while. The years of fame and fortune had taken their toll on our nerves and minds. John and I both felt closer. There seemed to be a greater possibility of our finding a solution to personal difficulties. If our trip to India wasn’t going to solve our emotional problems, then nothing would.”
The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)
That letter made it crystal clear that they [John and Yoko] had been in contact. How well had they got to know one another? I tackled John, who told me she'd written many times, both letters and cards, but said, 'She's crackers, just a weirdo artist who wants me to sponsor her. Another nutter wanting money for all that avant-garde bullshit. It's not important.' I had no way of knowing whether he was telling me the truth. He sounded genuine, but a sixth sense told me there was more to this than he was admitting. I tried to put it to the back of my mind. We were going to India, and I wanted that to be a special time for us.
John (Cynthia Lennon)
John panicked at the accumulating threats from the Princess of Darkness. That was when he decided to go to India with Cynthia to put some distance between himself and Yoko. If he stayed away long enough, he could hope Yoko would just go away. Maybe she’d go back to America, or vanish in a puff of smoke. Her scissors act might go horribly wrong, or while she was bagged up one day the Royal Mail might frank the bag and deliver it to anywhere but India. Yes, a long trip to the ashram, where he could meditate and learn how to be calm and in control, give up drugs and spend romantic moments with Cynthia and glue his crumbling marriage back together, seemed opportune.
Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell
“I don’t like the unhappiness she [Yoko] caused. She was horrible. John wanted to avoid her at first. He said, ‘Get rid of the bloody woman!’ But after India, he saw her differently — perhaps filtered through an exotic mindset.”
Tony Bramwell - the band’s ex-road manager
During
“The pressure of being the Beatles had driven a wedge between them individually and that had all percolated in the months leading up to their visit to Rishikesh,” he said. “Once they got there, and they unburdened themselves from all of that, they reconnected with their songwriting and their creativity. It just flowed forth.”
Bob Spitz to the New York Times
 “I was in a room for five days meditating,” said Lennon in The Beatles Anthology. “I wrote hundreds of songs. I couldn’t sleep and I was hallucinating like crazy, having dreams where you could smell. I’d do a few hours and they you’d trip off, three- or four-hour stretches. It was just a way of getting there, and you could go on amazing trips.” Cynthia Lennon said in Bob Spitz’s book The Beatles that for John, nothing else mattered when it came to mediation, adding “John and George were [finally] in their element [at the ashram]. They threw themselves totally into the Maharishi’s teachings, were happy, relaxed and above all found a piece of mind that had been denied them for so long.”
The Beatles in India: 16 Things You Didn’t Know
I was right in the Maharishi’s camp writing “I wanna die” you know. I’m So Tired and Yer Blues where they were pretty sort of realistic, you know, they were about me
Lennon Remembers
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da was born on the steps of one of the low slung cottages where the entourage lived. One day, remembers Saltzman, he was passing by the cottage when he saw Lennon and McCartney sitting on the front steps and strumming the tune on their acoustic guitars. He ran back, picked up the camera and took pictures of the two with a pensive-looking Starr sitting on the side, from outside a wicket gate. Saltzman remembers the two were singing the first two lines of the song "over and over again, going fast and slow, having fun". "That's the riff we have," McCartney told Saltzman, "but no words yet".
filmmaker Paul Saltzman
Jenny Boyd, Patti’s sister “I sat with John a lot, since he didn’t feel well, either from terrible jet lag, and insomnia. He would stay up late; unable to sleep, and write the songs that would later appear on The Beatles’ White Album. When I was at my lowest, he made a drawing of a turbaned Sikh genie holding a big snake and intoning, ‘By the power within, and the power without, I cast your tonsil lighthouse out!’ Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear John singing those sad songs he wrote during those evenings, like ‘I’m So Tired.’”
The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)
John “I went to the Maharishi and, regardless of what I was supposed to be doing, I did write some of my best songs while I was there. It was a nice scene. Nice and secure and everybody was always smiling. The experience was worth it if only for the songs that came out. It could have been the desert or Ben Nevis. The funny thing about the Maharishi camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth, like ‘I’m So Tired’ and ‘Yer Blues.’”
The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)
Meanwhile, I was not having the second honeymoon I'd hoped for. John was becoming increasingly cold and aloof towards me. He would get up early and leave our room. He spoke to me very little, and after a week or two he announced that he wanted to move into a separate room to give himself more space. From then on he virtually ignored me, both in private and in public. If the others noticed they didn't say so. I did my best to understand, begging him to explain what was wrong. He fobbed me off, telling me that it was just the effect of the meditation. 'I can't feel normal doing all this stuff,' He said. 'I'm trying to get myself together. It's nothing to do with you. Give me a break.' What I didn't know was that each morning he rushed down to the post office to see if he had a letter from Yoko. She was writing to him almost daily. When I learnt this later I felt very hurt.
John (Cynthia Lennon)
And because the Beatles didn’t know anything about ashrams and they haven’t seen anything before because they went for Maharishi, not for the ashram. Maharishi didn’t allow men to stay with their wives. John was delighted with the idea. He loved it, actually. I think it made Cynthia very unhappy. She wanted to stay with John, everybody had his own problems. My great interest was with John. I was very happy because I found John much healthier. The color in his face was different and he was happier and he took the whole thing very seriously, and he was trying hard and he was so excited when I arrived because perhaps I was part of the reason he was there.
Magic Alex in All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines
We all went through a depression after Maharishi and Brian died; it wasn’t really to do with Maharishi, it was just that period. I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods. I was just about coming out of it around Maharishi, even though Brian had died – that knocked us back again. Well, it knocked me back.
John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)
By spending two months in deep meditation in India, John brought his deepest problems to the surface but he was unable to resolve them: the contradiction between his family life and his life as a rock star with all the drugs and groupies was too great. Had he stayed with the Maharishi until the end of the course, he might have avoided some of the pain, but by terminating the instruction abruptly, he was left hanging in thin air. During the weeks at the camp, he had been receiving daily letters from Yoko, though nothing sexual had yet happened between them. He was very attracted by her but he felt tremendous guilt about breaking up his marriage: doing to Julian what his own parents had done to him, repeating the pattern.
Many Years From Now - Barry Miles
He [Mick Jagger] told me with amusement that the real reason why the Beatles left the Maharishi was that he made a pass at one of them: “They’re simple north-country lads; they’re terribly uptight about all that.” Am still not sure if I believe this story.
“The Sixties,” the second volume of Christopher Isherwood’s diaries
After
And I was slowly putting myself together after Maharishi, bit by bit over a two year period. I destroyed me ego and I didn’t believe I could do anything. I let Paul do what he want and say, them all of them do what they want, I was just nothing, I was shit. And then Derek tripped me out at his house after he got back from LA, and he sort of said you’re all right and pointed out which songs I’d written, and ‘you wrote this and you said this, you are intelligent, don’t be frightened’. And then next week I went down with Yoko and tripped out again and she filled me completely to realize I was me and it was alright.
Lennon Remembers
So much had changed since I’d last seen the Beatles just a few months previously. They had come back from their trip to India completely different people. They had once been fastidious and fashionable; now they were scruffy and unkempt. They had once been witty and full of humor; now they were solemn and prickly. They had once been bonded together as lifelong friends; now they resented one another’s company. They had once been lighthearted and fun to be around. Now they were angry.
Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey
The rage that was bubbling inside John was the most obvious sign that something was seriously wrong. There was new tension between John and Paul, and even between John and Ringo, in addition to the often strained relationship that Paul had with George and the resentment that Ringo sometimes exhibited when Paul coached him too much on drum parts. In fact, the only two Beatles who seemed to get along during the White Album sessions were John and George. Perhaps that came from the experience they had shared at the ashram—after all, they were the two who had stuck it out, staying on long after Ringo and Paul had gone back home. Maybe they felt deserted by their bandmates, or betrayed. The undercurrents between the four Beatles were so complex at that point, it gave me a headache just thinking about it.
Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey
Our first night back in the studio began, as usual, with small talk and catching up. “So how was India?” I asked. “India was okay, I guess… apart from that nasty little Maharishi,” John replied, venomously. Harrison looked deflated, as if it were a conversation they’d had many times before. With a deep sigh, he tried to calm his agitated bandmate. “Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad,” he interjected, earning a withering glance. Lennon’s bitterness and anger seemed almost palpable. Ringo tried deflecting things with a little humor. “It reminded me of a Butlins holiday camp, only the bloody food wasn’t as good,” he said with a wink. I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed. They were searching for something, but they didn’t know quite what it was; they had journeyed to India looking for answers, and they were disappointed that they hadn’t found them there… but it seemed to me that they didn’t even know the questions.
Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey
“By all accounts, John had hit an all-time low [after India]. “John was in a rage because God had forsaken him,” George recalled. “Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.” According to Pete Shotton, who was spending time with John at Weybridge, there was an overriding feeling of humiliation—from the Maharishi, from the Apple Boutique shambles, from his deteriorating marriage, from what he felt was his shrinking position in the Beatles. “He was more fucked up than I’d even seen him,” Shotton remembers. “It seemed like everything was going to the dogs. He’d been desperately grasping [at] straws, as far as I was concerned, and there wasn’t even a straw there.”
the beatles: the biography, bob spitz
JOHN: How can two women split up four strong men? It’s impossible. You know, The Beatles were disintegrating slowly after Brian Epstein died, it was a slow death, and it was happening. It was evident in Let It Be – uh, although Linda and Yoko were evident then, but they weren’t when it started, I don’t think. It was evident in – in India, when George and I stayed there and Paul and Ringo left.
October, 1971 (St Regis Hotel, New York)
There was little need for me to repeat my instructions. As soon as we got there, it was obvious that things were not hunky-dory with the Beatles. Their recent month-long meditation retreat with the Maharishi didn’t seem to have helped their relationships very much, and the estrangement was definitely having an effect on their work. I don’t think any actual recording got done that night. Paul, George and Ringo were rehearsing some new songs, trying different ways of playing and singing them. Meanwhile, John spent most of his time sitting on the floor next to Yoko, chatting privately with her as she stroked his hair. He seemed no more involved in the proceedings than me and Lawrence, who watched the uncomfortable tension building from the other side of the studio. “Hey John.” Paul turned around to face him at one point. “Are you in this band or what?”
Leslie Cavendish, The Cutting Edge: The Story of the Beatles’ Hairdresser Who Defined an Era
Back at Kenwood John continued to be distant towards me. Now that we were away from the others and the charms of India, I felt increasingly afraid and depressed. John and I were back in the same bed, but the warmth and passion we had shared for so long were absent. John seemed barely to notice me. He was little better with Julian and was more likely to snap at him than give him a hug. There was just one moment of real warmth between us and that was, ironically, when John confessed to me that he had been unfaithful. We were in the kitchen when he said, out of the blue, 'There have been other women, you know, Cyn.'
John (Cynthia Lennon)
On the flight back from India, he had gotten very drunk and, for some reason, decided to confess all his affairs to Cynthia. Brutally, he ticked off a very long list, which included groupies, models, prostitutes, the wives and girlfriends of his and Cynthia’s friends and, possibly cruelest of all, Cynthia’s own girlfriends. Cynthia felt totally betrayed.
Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell
The shattering of his faith in the Maharishi, meanwhile, had left John spiritually adrift once more; his instinctive response was to return with a vengeance to his former drug habits. (Like the other Beatles, John had totally abstained from alcohol and drugs while in India.) In retrospect, it's easy to see how wide open John was, at this particular juncture, to anything—or anybody—that might conceivably lift him out of his rut.
The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton
PAUL: I gave myself a set period, and then if it was gonna be something we really had to go back for, I was thinking of going back. But at the end of my month I was quite happy and I thought… this’ll do me. This is fine. If I want to get into it heavy, I can do it anywhere. That’s one of the nice things about it, you don’t have to go to church to do it, you can do it in your own room. So I was quite happy.
RINGO: I left just a little disillusioned, and John was a little disillusioned when he came back, and Paul was. [pause] George just loved it.
1993 rough cut of the Anthology series
Although Paul was the first to leave [India] disillusioned, John left in the mind of, ‘OK, well, we tried, we surrendered to God but it wasn’t God, it was Maharishi and this God thing is proving itself to be a total fallacy’ - and then went back to being The Beatles.
I left Rishikesh with John. Alex [Madras] had been the naughty boy who’d stirred everything up. John went in a rage because God had forsaken him (although it was nothing to do with God, really). Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.
I went to South India […] and everything that happened to me went wrong to the point that I felt, like John and Alex, that the Maharishi had put the heeby-jeebies in me.
George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)
JOHN: I’ve got no regrets at all, ‘cause it was a groove and I had some great experiences meditating eight hours a day—some amazing things, some amazing trips— it was great. And I still meditate off and on. George is doing it regularly. And I believe implicitly in the whole bit. It’s just that it’s difficult to continue it. I lost the rosy glasses. And I’m like that. I’m very idealistic. So I can’t really manage my exercises when I’ve lost that. I mean, I don’t want to be a boxer so much. It’s just that a few things happened, or didn’t happen. I don’t know, but something happened. It was sort of like a click and we just left and I don’t know what went on. It’s too near—I don’t really know what happened.
John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: The first Rolling Stone interview. (November 23rd, 1968)
Cynthia Lennon “John had taken acid once more and enthused, ‘Cyn, it was great. Christ Cyn, we’ve got to have lots more children. We’ve got to have a big family around us.’ At this point, I burst into tears … All I could blurt out was that, in no way, could I see us as he did. I was so disturbed by John’s outburst, that I even suggested that Yoko Ono was the woman for him. John protested at my crazy suggestion and suggested that I was being ridiculous. Although life went on as usual, my fears grew and I felt nervous and depressed. John was aware of my depression and suggested that, as he had to work for long hours in the recording studios for a few weeks, I should accompany Jenny, Donovan, Gyspy and Alexis on a holiday to Greece. The very thought of sun and sea really brightened my outlook.”
The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)
During the spring of 1968, John was as confused, lonely, and unhappy as I'd seen him in years. Though his relationship with the other Beatles was still free of serious strain, he was seeing increasingly less of Paul and George, both of whom were now pursuing independent lives and interests of their own.
In My Life, Pete Shotton
The resentment might have been coming from a different place. With his marital problems still unsettled and Cynthia gallivanting around Greece, drugs continued to govern John’s fitful moods. He dosed himself continuously with LSD, tweaking its random effect with any spare pills he happened to find lying around the house. In the right company, it plunged John into a deep, unfathomable trance that altered between indecipherable rambling and deadpan silences. At Weybridge, into which Pete Shotton had moved in order to keep his friend company, he stayed up nights, tripping and battling wave after wave of incendiary rage. One night, after the usual snack of hallucinogens, Shotton says he noticed John moving his arms around very slowly in a circle. “I said, ‘What are you doing?’ ” recalls Pete, “but John couldn’t explain it. He said, ‘I can’t stop. There’s something making me do this. I can’t help myself.’ ” Tears followed, uncontrollable rivers of tears, intermingled with hideous laughter. When Shotton tried to comfort him, John resisted. “I’m not crying,” he insisted peevishly, wiping his eyes with the back of a hand. Suddenly John declared that he was Jesus Christ, back from the grave. “He was convinced of it,” Pete recalls, “saying… ‘This is it, at last—I know who I am.’ ” The next day the Messiah convened an emergency meeting at Apple to announce his identity to the other Beatles. Unimpressed, they said: “Yeah, all right then. What shall we do now?” After someone suggested lunch, the matter was dropped.
That night at Weybridge, in the middle of another drug-induced reverie, the TV flickered off, whereupon John, already chastened and in a self-abasing mood, asked Pete if it was okay if he invited a woman to the house. Shotton, who had no intention of staying up another night with his friend, was relieved. “Well, I think I’ll call up Yoko,” John said.
The Beatles – Bob Spitz
What happened that night can only be left to the imagination, but since it patently wasn’t the coming together of two virgins for the very first time, did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. So it must have been something pretty potent that made John fall headlong out of his casual affair with her into a mad obsession. Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania. If he really did believe that he was Jesus, Yoko would probably have convinced him she was the Virgin Mary. A virgin at any rate. John was shortly to tell the world that they spent the night at the top of the house in his bloodred music room, recording the Two Virgins tape. They say that a moose in heat can waken the dead and achieve the impossible with his bellows. John and Yoko spent the night screaming.
Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell
Whatever her reasoning, Cynthia remained determined to see the marriage through [after finding John and Yoko together]. Convinced that John still needed her, she returned to Kenwood, mollified by his apparent denial that anything improper had occurred. “For a while, everything was wonderful,” she recalled. “We could speak more openly and honestly with each other, and there really was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.”
But the tunnel was short, and the light soon faded. Within weeks their life together had disintegrated into a revolving state of solicitude and withdrawal, resignation and despondence. Following a stretch when John became disturbingly incommunicative, Cynthia packed once again, escaping on still another vacation to Pesaro, Italy, with her mother, Julian, and a favorite aunt and uncle.
The Beatles – Bob Spitz
No sooner were they back from India, than Jane returned to her work at the Bristol Old Vic, and Paul launched into what was probably the most relaxed time of his life. He opened wide the doors of Cavendish Avenue and the groupies, who had camped as faithfully outside as they had in Wimpole Street during the years that Paul had lived there with the Asher family, were astonished to find they were now invited in. Not only were they invited into the house, but also into Paul’s bed. Whenever I went up to see Paul, the house was filled with giggling, half-naked girls, cooking meals, walking Martha, or glued to the phone for hours on end, calling the world.
Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell
It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. But Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem; there was a lot of dope-smoking before takeoff and even during the transatlantic flight. But Jane Asher also helped spike Paul’s mood. The grudging engagement between Beatle and actress had been ticklish at best. But since traveling together in India and a subsequent ten-day trip to Scotland, Jane’s eccentricities rankled. Paul was having serious second thoughts about the relationship, which had reached a kind of critical, now-or-never stage.
Between John’s attitude and Paul’s paranoia, the Beatles were a PR nightmare. “It was a mad, bad week in New York,” recalled Derek Taylor, who met the two Beatles there to chaperone a round of press conferences, followed by interviews. Taylor had fashioned himself into a debonair drug aficionado since the Beatles first dosed him at Brian Epstein’s housewarming party, and now he and John gorged themselves on speed and a “mild and extremely benign hallucinogen” called Purple Holiday, courtesy of their New York chauffeur. The effect of it came through in the interviews. John was gallingly withdrawn and dismissive, Paul unusually distracted—which made them come off as two rich, snooty rock stars peddling another product.
The Beatles – Bob Spitz
+ a couple of extra things
A quick timeline
December 25 Paul and Jane announced that they were engaged to be married.
February 15 George, Patti, John and Cynthia flew from London Airport to India.
February 19 Paul, Jane, Ringo and Maureen flew from London Airport to India.
March 26 Paul, Jane and Neil Aspinall flew back to England from Rishikesh, leaving George and Patti, John and Cynthia and “Magic” Alex who had come out to join them.
April 12 John and Cynthia, George and Patti and “Magic” Alex left in a hurry from Rishikesh, India, after “Magic” Alex convinced John and George that the Maharishi was using his position to gain sexual favours from at least one of the female meditators.
May 11 John and Paul, accompanied by “Magic” Alex, Neil Aspinall, Mal Evans, Ron Kass and Derek Taylor, flew to New York to launch Apple in the US.
May 15 Accompanied by Linda, Nat Weiss drove John, Paul and “Magic” Alex to the airport for their flight back to London.
May 19 With Cynthia taking a short holiday, John called Yoko Ono and invited her out to Kenwood. They made a random sound tape, which was later issued as Two Virgins with the notorious sleeve showing them both naked.
May 26 Cynthia returned home from a brief holiday in Greece, to discover Yoko Ono in residence with John.
May 31 Abbey Road. The White Album sessions. Work continued on ‘Revolution 1’ and the last six minutes was removed to form the basis of the chaotic ‘Revolution 9’. Yoko screamed on the track, her first appearance on a Beatles recording.
June 4 Paul began seeing Francie Schwartz.
June 22-23 On this day Paul McCartney addressed a sales conference attended by executives from Capitol Records, where he announced that all future Beatles records would be released through the group’s Apple Records label. The day after they fell in love in Los Angeles, Paul McCartney and Linda Eastman spent much of the day together at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where he was staying as part of an Apple promotional trip.
July 20 Jane Asher, appearing on Simon Dee’s BBC Television show Dee Time, said that her engagement to Paul was off – but that it was not she that had broken it. She told Dee that they had been engaged for seven months, after knowing each other for five years. (She had arrived back at Cavendish Avenue one day to find Paul in bed with a girl named Francie Schwartz.)
The Beatles Diary Volume 1 The Beatles Years (Barry Miles) & https://www.beatlesbible.com/
A comment from Heydullblog, which I find interesting and think sums up how insufficient & unsatisfying most explanations are for how John changed during this period:
Michael Gerber November 25, 2021 at 4:31 pm
What, in all that, makes you HATE Cyn, and divorce her in the most abrupt and vicious way, even attempting to get her to commit adultery so you can give her (and your own son) as little as possible? Why not a quick and amiable divorce from a woman who, let’s be honest, knew she was getting cheated on pretty constantly since 1961.
What, in all that, makes you HATE Paul McCartney, who has been your closest professional collaborator since 1957, and engage in a five-year campaign to smear and demean him in the press? Why do you insist your millions of fans choose you or him? Why not simply pause the group, and everybody goes solo and remains friends, as was predicted at the end of touring?
What makes you DETERMINED to bust up your rock group, the most popular group in the world, the source of all your fame, money, and power?
What makes you pick Yoko Ono IN PARTICULAR out of all the groupies, hangers-on, and even sensible appropriate partners within your current circle? Eighteen months ago you were attracted to Maureen Cleave, Sonny Freeman, Alma Cogan, etc — pretty much the type of women you always picked — but now, you pick a conceptual artist offering total submersion into someone else’s ego?
And what makes you spend the rest of your life pretending all this was the greatest thing ever, the fullest flowering of your genius?
It’s not that John Lennon looked around at his life in early 1968 and thought, “I don’t want this anymore. This isn’t for me.” It’s that he lashed out incredibly fiercely, in every direction, made no distinction between friend and foe, demonstrated a huge amount of resentment and bitterness towards the very people who it would seem had helped him the most, and spent literally the rest of his short life at least arguably LESS happy than he’d been before. He didn’t dump his wife for the nanny and live happily ever after; he started a process of picking things up and throwing them away with great force that, if he’d been that way in 1957, would’ve kept any of his genius from ever emerging.
He changed, fundamentally, in a short time. Why?
Midlife crises happen, they are to be expected, but this one gets more singular the more you look at it. And the thing about post-India Lennon is how he’s no more happy, no more productive, no more self-aware, no more comfortable in his own skin, than pre-India Lennon. What does the guy in August 1980 have to be angry about? Really? It was only after I reached middle-age and went through my own version of crisis (crises) that I thought, “How strange.”
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wholoveseggs · 3 months
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hello gorgeous! i got another idea! How about reader going through a divorce where the husband is really an arrogant asshole, permanently making fun of her etc. And then she meets Elijah, and they start getting close and he helps her gain her confidence back and shows her how she should be treated. And maybe a few months later, after the divorce, she meets the ex-husband somewhere again and he tries to humiliate her again but Elijah is there and he puts him in his place. Smut is very much welcomed. 🫶🏻
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I hate Antoinette, but they were hot together
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Your marriage causes you to feel trapped and worthless. Until you meet a handsome stranger at a café and he shows you how much more you can be.
♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag, I hope you enjoy it! ♡♡
5.8k words - Warnings: angsty, smutty, reader has low self-esteem, husband is verbally & financially abusive, cheating, car sex, Elijah being a bit of a rascal.
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When you first got together with John, he was just so charming and you couldn't help but fall for him. It was hard to say no to him, and you were in a haze of love for a long time. He was such an extrovert, loud and funny, and you felt like you couldn't live without him.
But over the course of your marriage things started to change, his mask slipping and showing the real John underneath. At first it was just a comment here and there, you told yourself he was just having a bad day, but then it just kept getting worse.
The day you stopped loving him, was the day he had a bad day at work and decided to take it out on you. You cooked his favorite dinner, trying to make him feel better, and when he came home, he told you to order takeout instead. You were in the middle of making it, so you just told him it would be done soon, and tried to ignore him.
He took the food and threw it in the sink, and started yelling. You were so stunned, you just stood there and let him. He said the most terrible things, telling you how worthless and pathetic you were, that no one would ever want you if they knew you were like this.
A part of you started to believe him, because no matter how hard you tried to be a good wife, you just weren't. John was so kind and charming to everyone else, so it clearly had to be your fault.
You slowly stopped talking to your friends and family, you were probably annoying them anyways.
John eventually cheated on you, and then you found out he was cheating with multiple women. He would disappear for days at a time, off with someone else. You didn't even care, you didn't love him anymore.
Abuse is insidious like that, you become numb to it all, your brain normalizes it to help you cope, until you don't realize that you are being abused. Until you think it's your fault...
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You woke to the sound of yelling, your usual alarm clock these days. John was a loud and obnoxious man, and he had no problem screaming at you whenever the mood struck him.
Today's argument was over you sleeping in. You wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, and John couldn't stand to wait another moment. So he went ahead and had to make his own breakfast, and then came upstairs to berate you.
"You really are a lazy slob! I bet you didn't do any of the laundry either. Get up and clean the house!"
You slowly got out of bed, lately your coping mechanism was ignoring him. If you didn't say anything perhaps he wouldn't yell at you. It wasn't a great coping mechanism, but it was the only thing keeping you sane.
"Are you fucking stupid? Answer me!" John yelled as you walked into the bathroom, closing the door in his face.
That didn't stop him, he yelled through the door, and you turned on the shower. Perhaps you would stand there for an hour, just to piss him off.
Just when you started to relax under the warm water he started banging on the door.
"You've been in there too long, wasting the water I pay for. Get out!"
You didn't have a job, because John told you he would take care of you. You were young and naive, you learned the hard way that being financially beholden to any man was a bad idea.
You finally turned off the shower and dried off. You put on a baggy shirt and sweats, and opened the door. He was gone, probably downstairs watching tv.
You got dressed and headed to your craft room, you spent a lot of time in there. You enjoyed painting intricate scenes on canvases, it was the only thing that gave you joy anymore.
When you painted, your mind would go completely blank, and you would lose yourself in the art. Sometimes you would paint for hours and not even notice.
You put on some music and started working on a landscape. You didn't realize how much time passed until the door opened.
John must of had a day off work because he was still home, he usually left by this time. He stood there and watched you for a moment.
"I'm bored and hungry. Make me lunch."
"I'm not your maid. Make it yourself," you mumbled, not taking your eyes off the canvas.
"Why the fuck do you even waste your time with that? Do you think anyone cares about your mediocre shit?" He snapped.
He's right, no one would care about your paintings, even if you shared them. You weren't that talented, it was purely a form of escape. But a small part of you dreamed of being able to sell your artwork and live off the income.
You set down your paintbrush and sighed.
"I don't do it to show off, I do it because I enjoy it. It calms my mind and makes me happy," you answered.
He laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. He had no appreciation for art or culture, he only cared about money and power. He stepped forward and ripped the canvas off the easel, and started tearing it to pieces.
"How's that for making you happy? Do you still want to paint? Be a famous artist? Real Picasso you are!" He sneered, laughing at his own joke.
You didn't want him to see you cry, so you just got up, grabbed your things and walked out of the house. You felt so weak, such a pushover, unable to defend yourself against his cruelty. A little voice in your head told you that you deserved it, no one knew you better than John, so if he said you were worthless and pathetic, then you must be.
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There was a cafe near your house, you always went there when John was being too much for you to handle. It was a cute little spot that doubled as a vintage book store. Dark wooden bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, plants in every corner and a cozy seating area with large comfortable couches and chairs. It also displayed paintings from local artists on its walls, you enjoyed the ambiance of the place, it made you feel at peace. You would buy a coffee and sit in there for hours reading.
You had seen the same man there a couple times, and his striking appearance caught your eye. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his brown eyes piercing, and his strong jawline was covered in stubble. There was something about him that drew you in, but you were far too shy to ever approach him. What would you even say to a man like that? Hey, I think you a stupidity beautiful? Is the book you're reading good? What do you do for fun? It all sounded so pathetic in your head, so you stayed away.
You noticed that he was always nice and polite to the waitresses and he tipped generously. You wondered if he was like John, that it was all just a facade and that he was secretly cruel underneath his mask of civility. But his face was always soft, his voice gentle, and the way he held the door open for other people gave you hope that he was a genuinely nice man.
You would never see him in anything other than a three piece suit, which was unusual for this neighborhood. His dark blue, or sometimes black suits, fit him so well and complemented his skin tone. He wore crisp white shirts and you could tell he was muscular underneath, not bulky, but lean.
You would sip on your coffee, reading, and stealing glances of him out of the corner of your eye. It was probably pathetic, but the way he looked and carried himself made you feel good, so you let yourself.
One day as you were reading your book, you noticed him reading the same book. Perhaps it was the extra espresso shot you added to your coffee or the fact that it was the first sunny day in weeks, but you found the courage to get up and introduce yourself.
"Hey, uh, I see you have excellent taste in books," you smiled at him, your heart fluttering when he made eye contact. You fought the urge to run away, his gaze was intense, but not harsh.
"It seems you do as well," he returned the smile, his voice was like velvet. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, join me."
You felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat down, trying your best to maintain eye contact and not blush.
"What made you choose this particular book?" He asked, gesturing at it.
"Honestly, the cover. The art style is really appealing," you told him, blushing a bit. The way he was looking at you made your breath catch in your throat.
"Interesting, I thought the same thing." He chuckled, closing his book and holding out his hand. "I'm Elijah, by the way."
"Y/N," you introduced yourself, taking his hand and shaking it.
"What do you think of it?" He asked, leaning back in his armchair, your gaze lingered on his arms as he crossed them.
"What?" You said, feeling your cheeks heating up. Why did you have to be so stupid all the time?
"The book, what do you think of the book?" He chuckled, tilting his head and smiling.
You talked about the book, the writing, the characters, and how you thought it was going to end. You ended up talking for hours, he was easy to talk to. You found yourself getting more and more relaxed around him.
Elijah had this aura about him, an air of confidence that was oddly comforting. He was polite and charming, with only a hint of a mysterious accent that intrigued you.
"I can't believe we've been sitting here for so long," you laughed. "I didn't mean to keep you, I'm sure you have other places to be."
"No, I have nowhere I need to be, I'm enjoying your company," he said softly. You noticed his gaze lingered on your lips.
You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was nearly 11pm. "Wow, I should go, my husband is probably wondering where I am." You got up and dug around in your purse to pay the bill.
"I would love to see you again," Elijah said as you pulled out your wallet. "Here, let me." He pulled out his own wallet and handed the waitress some cash.
A giddy, almost school girlish, smile spread across your face. "Oh, okay. Thank you, that would be great." You stuttered a bit, blushing and putting your wallet away.
"Have a lovely night," he said softly, getting up and kissing the back of your hand.
Your heart fluttered, and you couldn't wipe the silly grin off of your face as you left. You hadn't felt this feeling in so long, and the thought of seeing him again filled you with joy.
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The next few weeks felt like a dream, every day you would go to the cafe and read. You would sit in Elijah's section, and after a while he would show up and sit across from you, drinking his coffee.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said the first time. "I just enjoy your company."
"You're not interrupting," you blushed, putting your book down. "I enjoy your company as well."
As time went on, the conversations got more and more personal. He asked about your job, your life, and your husband. You didn't want to talk about John, it was hard to admit you had been in a bad marriage for so long. You told him a little, about how you both fell out of love, and were basically roommates.
Elijah would listen intently, and would always ask the right questions. He was very good at drawing information out of you. But whenever he got too close to the truth you would change the subject.
It was obvious that he was a good listener and had a kind heart. You wondered why he bothered with you, a nobody, when he was clearly such a sophisticated man. He could have anyone, and yet he was sitting with you.
One day he brought you a gift, it was a tiny ornamental bird, painted a beautiful shade of green. It was just like the one in the first book you both read, and you had told him how much you liked it. You were speechless, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.
You decided to make him a gift, and spent all day working on it. It was a bookmark with an image of a forest painted on it. You used a mix of acrylic and watercolor, the greens and browns blending together.
John walked in on you finishing up, and sneered at your painting. "Are you trying to impress somebody with that? No one's gonna want that ugly thing." He said, scoffing.
Your heart sank and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He was right, who would want it? It was nothing special.
You were going to give it to Elijah anyways, but you kept second guessing yourself. He wouldn't want it, it was a stupid idea.
He came into the cafe a little later that day, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. Your stomach twisted into knots, and you felt your palms starting to sweat.
"Hey," you said, trying to sound normal. "How are you today?"
"I'm well, how are you?" He replied, sitting across from you.
"I'm good, thank you," you nodded. You decided it was now or never. "So, I made this for you," you blurted out, holding out the bookmark. Your face was hot, and you wished you could hide under the table.
Elijah's face lit up, and he gave a wide crooked smile. "This is wonderful, thank you," he said.
You watched as he picked it up, admiring the artwork. He traced the pattern of trees with his finger and he seemed completely enamored with it.
"You are very talented, do you sell these?," he asked. He looked up and saw the expression on your face.
“Oh god no, I don't know about that, I mean, I just do it for fun, and..."
You were interrupted by your phone ringing, it was John.
"Sorry, one moment," you said, answering the call.
"Where the hell are you? It's past 8pm, and I'm starving, come home and cook dinner," he growled.
You felt your cheeks heat up under Elijah's gaze, shame and embarrassment washed over you.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, I'll be right home," you whispered, you felt so small.
"Hurry up, lazy ass," John snapped before hanging up.
You put your phone away, and forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, I have to go, I forgot my husband was cooking dinner," you lied.
Elijah nodded, his brow furrowing a bit. "Alright, have a lovely night," he said.
"You too," you mumbled as you quickly grabbed your things and left.
You cried all the way home, feeling like a such a loser, a complete failure. Why couldn't you have someone like Elijah in your life? Someone who listened, someone who cared, someone who didn't berate you every second of the day.
You wondered what Elijah thought of you, did he see you as pathetic and weak? A fool that let her husband walk all over her?
It didn't matter, he was so out of your league, you were just a stupid, fat nobody. He would never want you, no one would.
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When you showed up to the cafe the next day you noticed a fancy sports car with tinted windows parked out front. It looked very out of place on your street, the only people around who had cars like that were old rich people, and the occasional drug dealer.
Before you reached the door you heard your name being called, and turned around. You saw Elijah waving at you from the driver's seat of the car.
You approached the passenger seat window, and he smiled, beckoning you to get in. You sat down and he handed you a cup of coffee, you smiled at the gesture, he knew your order.
"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.
"I want to show you something," he said, pulling on to the street.
"What is it?" You asked.
"It's a surprise," he said, smirking.
You had no idea where he was taking you, but you didn't mind. You were excited to spend some more time with him.
When he pulled up to the local community centre you were very confused. You couldn't imagine why Elijah wanted to bring you here, maybe it was part of the surprise.
You both got out of the car and entered the building. Inside there was a craft show going on, local artists had set up tables displaying their wares.
His thoughtfulness touched you deeply, he had taken the time to bring you here because he knew you loved art.
The next couple hours were spent perusing the aisles and admiring the paintings, sculptures and crafts. Elijah seemed to have an interest in all of it, asking lots of questions and complimenting the artists. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, it's something you admired about him.
"You could get a booth here, sell your art if you wanted," he suggested.
"Oh, I don't know about that, this is just a hobby," you said, brushing off his idea.
"Why not?" He pressed.
"I...well, no one would want my stuff, I mean, they're just little paintings," you sighed
"I would, I think you're very talented," he said softly.
Your heart swelled at his words.
"Thanks," you smiled.
After the craft show, he drove you home, you made him park at the end of the street. You knew how jealous John could get, and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you getting dropped off by a handsome stranger.
"Thank you, Elijah, this was fun," you said.
"The pleasure was all mine," he replied.
"You can't tell anyone about this, I mean, if John finds out, he'll..." You trailed off, feeling stupid.
"He will what?" Elijah's eyes were full of concern.
"Oh, he just, gets jealous easily," you said, fumbling over your words.
"Are you not allowed to have friends?" His brow furrowed, and his eyes hardened a bit.
"No, I mean, I can have friends, I'm just not, uh, supposed to have guy friends," you admitted.
"That doesn't sound like a healthy relationship," Elijah said, his voice sounding slightly deeper than usual. "How about business partners?"
"What?" You were confused.
"If I could help you with your art career, get you a booth at the craft fair, promote your work, would that be allowed?"
"Uh, I guess so," you said.
"Excellent, let's meet tomorrow, discuss what needs to be done," he smiled.
"Okay," you smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your body.
When you got home you decided not to tell John, the last thing you wanted was an argument. Maybe if you were successful and sold a lot, then he would be happy for you, but that was just wishful thinking.
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You and Elijah had been meeting up once a week for two months, discussing your art, and ways to improve your sales. He was an expert at marketing, and had already gotten you some commissions.
It was nice to have something else to focus on, instead of constantly being reminded that you were a failure. And for the first time in your life you were making your own money, it felt good.
You started to feel more confident in yourself, Elijah was always saying how talented and special you were, and it was beginning to stick.
Today was the craft fair, and you were nervous, what if no one bought anything? What if they all hated it and thought it was ugly?
Elijah pulled up in his fancy car, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. You both had gotten so much closer in the last couple months, and he had become your best friend. He was the only person in your life that made you feel like you mattered.
Your feelings for him were beyond friendship, but you couldn't risk losing him. It was better to have him as a friend, than nothing at all.
The craft fair was going well, you had already sold two pieces, and were chatting with some customers.
"Oh my goodness, this is gorgeous," one of the customers, an older woman, exclaimed.
"Thank you," you beamed.
"How long have you and your husband been selling these?" She asked, gesturing to you and Elijah.
"Oh, uh, we're not married," you blushed.
"Sorry, I just assumed, your ring..." she trailed off.
You glanced down at your hand and saw your wedding band, the simple gold band John had given you so many years ago.
"I am married, just not to him, we are just business partners," you smiled awkwardly.
"Oh, my mistake," the woman said, returning your smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.
"It's okay," you blushed, trying to busy yourself by wrapping the painting she had purchased.
"You'd make a lovely couple," the woman said, handing you her credit card.
Your face burned, and your palms began to sweat. You had tried your best to not think of him that way, it wasn't fair to him, or to John. But the thought was always in the back of your mind.
"Thank you, have a nice day," you managed, handing her the wrapped painting.
"You too dear," she said, winking.
You sold out quickly, and decided to celebrate with a drink at a nearby bar.
"I'm very proud of you," Elijah smiled. "You have a natural gift."
"Thanks," you said, feeling yourself blush.
He leaned in close and took your hand, tracing your wedding band. "This doesn't suit you," he said.
"Excuse me?" You squeaked, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering madly.
He ignored your reaction and just grinned, his fingers intertwining with yours. You stared at your hands, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" He said, his gaze fixed on your face.
"Sure," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him.
"Why didn't John show up to support you?" His voice was barely a whisper.
Your heart sank. You had purposefully not told John, not wanting to hear him complain about it, or belittle you.
"Well, um, I didn't really invite him," you confessed.
"Why not?"
"Because, I knew he wouldn't care," you sighed. "And I don't want him to know I'm earning my own money,"
"Because you plan on leaving him." It wasn't a question.
"Y-yeah, eventually," you stammered.
He leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand. "Good, you deserve better," he murmured, his lips still grazing your skin.
You didn't know what to say, your head was spinning and you felt hot all over.
"You never talk about him, but I can tell you are unhappy," he said, sitting back.
"It's complicated," you whispered.
"You can talk to me," he said.
You paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You had never talked to anyone about your feelings for John, it was too difficult.
"Well, we used to be happy, when we first got married, but now he's not the same," you said, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice.
"How so?"
"He's controlling and possessive, and he yells a lot. He doesn't love me anymore, and I'm not sure he ever did," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes. "He cheats on me regularly and controls the finances. Selling my art is the first opportunity I've had to earn money of my own, and I'm terrified of what he'll do if he finds out."
You felt yourself begin to cry, and tried to wipe the tears away, ashamed that your life had turned out this way.
"You hold all of this pain inside, it's not healthy," Elijah said, his face was unreadable.
"I know," you sobbed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying, it's so stupid."
"It's not stupid, you're not stupid," he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
You looked into his eyes, his face full of concern. He cared about you, and it was a relief to finally have someone to confide in. You feared that Elijah would reject you, see you as pathetic, but he didn't. He stayed by your side, listening and offering comfort.
"If you ever decide to leave him, you are more than welcome to stay with me," he said.
"You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, you're my friend," he smiled.
You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. "Thank you," you mumbled.
He froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You inhaled his scent, a mixture of cologne and whiskey. He was solid and warm, and you felt safe in his embrace.
"Thank you, for everything," you repeated, beginning to pull away, but he held you in place.
You felt something stir deep inside, something primal and raw. The heat from his body, the way his strong arms felt around you, and the closeness of his face was overwhelming.
He kissed your cheek as you pulled back, and his lips lingered there for a moment. Your skin tingled where his lips had touched, and you could feel the warmth from his breath.
You sat back and looked at him, his eyes were dark and full of desire, your fingers intertwined with his. The air was thick with tension, and the electricity between the two of you was undeniable.
"I should get home," you said softly, not really wanting to leave.
"Of course," he said, his voice was deep and raspy, his grip on your hand tightening.
You paid the bill, and walked out to the parking lot. Elijah stood close beside you, and his hand brushed yours a few times as you walked to his car.  
Before you could open the passenger side door you felt his hands on your hips. He spun you around and pressed you against the car, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You gasped as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting you.
Your arms snaked around his neck, and your fingers ran through his hair. His hands slid down your hips and grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against his body.
His kiss was passionate and needy, and he moaned softly into your mouth. The sound sent a wave of heat through your body, and you felt your panties getting wet.
After a few moments, he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, both of you panting.
"Right, okay," he said, his breathing heavy.
"Yeah," you breathed, not really sure what to say.
He pulled away and went to open the passenger door for you, but you stopped him. You felt bold and daring, and the alcohol gave you a confidence boost. You motioned to the back door, and he smirked, pushing you up against the car and kissing you again before opening the door.
You climbed in and he followed, his hands grabbing your waist as his lips found yours again. You moaned into the kiss, the heat between your legs intensifying.
The windows fogged up as you undressed, you were grateful for the tinted windows. You moved onto his lap in just your bra and panties, running your fingers through his hair. He kissed your neck and whispered your name.
"We shouldn't do this," you murmured, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.
"I know," he replied, his lips brushing against your ear.
Elijah placed feather-light kisses down your throat, his hands running up and down your back.
"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice thick with desire
"No," you breathed, clutching him tightly.
He reached around your waist and unclasped your bra, gently removing it and tossing it into the front seat. He ran his tongue across your breasts, circling each nipple before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands running up and down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you closer.
You blushed, your heated skin flush against his, feeling his hard cock between your legs.
"So are you," you breathed, kissing his neck and grinding against him.
Elijah groaned, his hand coming down to grip your hip and help guide your movements. You were so turned on, it had been so long since you had sex, and John was never a generous lover. You wanted Elijah so badly, you felt like you were going to combust.
His lips found yours, and you kissed him with everything you had. The heat between the two of you turning into a raging fire.
Suddenly the moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You both tried to ignore it, but it just rang again, and again, and again.
You broke the kiss and grabbed your phone, seeing it was your husband calling. "Fuck," you cursed, and you answered it.
"Why haven't you been answering your phone?!" He demanded.
"I've been busy," you replied. Elijah began kissing your neck again, a smirk on his lips as he listened. You suppressed a moan as he began to guide your hips, helping you grind against his hard cock.
"Busy doing what?! Who are you with?!" John shouted.
"I'm just with some friends, don't worry about it," you gasped.
"You don't have any friends," he spat.
"I do," you insisted, trying not to moan as Elijah's hand dipped into your panties.
"What are their names?" John questioned angrily.
"Elijah," you moaned as his thumb brushed your clit.
"The fuck!" John yelled, going completely into a rage. The kind that always frightened you, he always had a short temper.
Elijah could see the fear on your face and took the phone from you, tucking it under his neck as he continued to pleasure you.
"John, is it?" He asked, his voice cool and calm. "This is Elijah, I'm going to need you to calm down, you are scaring your wife," he said.
"Listen, whoever the fuck you are, don't think I won't track you down and fucking kill you," John spat, his anger reaching a boiling point.
Elijah chuckled, slipping a finger inside you and making you moan, you quickly covered your mouth, but Elijah moved your hand away and gave you a wicked grin, still speaking into the phone.
"That's a little violent, don't you think?" He murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Besides, I'd love to see you try," he smirked.
John went silent, you could hear his ragged breathing.
"Why do you pretend like you care John? She told me you fuck other people, I mean, who would blame her for finding a real man?" Elijah goaded.
You were shocked by his words, but couldn't deny how hot it was, or how aroused they were making you.
"Listen here motherfucker," John snarled, "she's mine, and I will not allow her to be touched by anyone el-"
Elijah hung up the call and discarded your phone, his eyes dark with lust as he stared at you.
"Now, where were we?" He asked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply.
"I can't believe that just happened," you said, panting as his lips trailed down your neck.
"You don't need to worry about him anymore," he growled. "You are mine now."
You giggled, rolling your eyes at his possessiveness. But a part of you liked it, it made you feel desired, wanted.
"And I am yours," he added, his lips finding yours again, a deep and passionate kiss.
It started to rain, you could hear the droplets hitting the roof of the car. Making everything seem more intimate, as if it were just the two of you in the entire world.
You reached down and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, he lifted his hips and helped you get them down, his cock springing free. You wrapped a hand around it and began stroking him, his moans sending a thrill through your body.
"You don't ever have to go back to him," he whispered.
"I won't," you promised, your lips finding his once more.
He guided your hips, his cock teasing your entrance, and then you slowly eased down into him. He felt so good, a rush of pleasure coursed through your body. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking against him.
The fire between you grew, the windows completely fogged up now. Your skin slick with sweat as you rode him slowly. Foreheads pressed together, you moved in perfect unison, a steady rhythm of passion.
You knew this would change everything, and that things were about to get very complicated. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All you cared about was being with Elijah, the only man who had ever made you feel loved and worthy.
John had taken everything from you, and had made your life miserable for the last ten years. You were trapped and made to feel it was what you deserved. But not anymore.
Elijah had shown you that you were worth more, that you deserved to be loved and cherished. He gave you the tools you needed to leave John, and the strength to do it. You would have never left him without Elijah.
And as you looked into his eyes, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you knew this was right, what love was supposed to feel like. You could see the emotions reflected in his eyes, the intensity of his feelings for you, the same intensity you felt.
You felt his muscles tense and knew he was close, his cock swelling inside you. You moved faster, chasing your own orgasm, wanting to come together. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and when the waves of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was intense, and he came with you.
The sounds of your moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the rain pattering against the windows. You clung to each other, hearts racing, trying to catch your breath.
As the high slowly faded, you both started laughing, giddy and sated. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and he returned it, a smile playing at his mouth.
"I love you," he breathed.
"I love you too," you replied, kissing him again.
He held you tight, his lips finding yours in the darkness. You were finally free, and the world was yours for the taking.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25
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dotster001 · 1 month
Note
i was gonna make this a comment but smthn told me this was gonna be long.
SORRY FOR THE LONG-NESS OF THIS ASK
BUT DOT- THINK ABOUT YAN DILF JADE.
who knows if his ex wife was murdered or not, oh well! 🤭 best not to dwell on it because it makes the twins sad :(
see? (🧍🏻🧍🏻)
…anyways
but here me out (this is me going coco bananas. full on psycho mode) maybe the first time he saw you was at a RANDOM party that a friend of yours hosted.
blah blah mutual friend of a friend and that long friend family tree stuff
but maybe you slithered away to the dog, or were tasked with helping a baby (more like someone threw the baby at you in order to dance)
or you’re with the other room for the children that the party provides (this is like a really rich friend. like mega mansion. crazy rich asians kinda thing)
but ugh he’s there with his dreadful beautiful wife and his wonderful children. and his wife is already leaving to grab a drink and he thinks their children shouldn’t get a glimpse at whatever tom-foolery parties like these will lead to.
so in they go! (maybe this was years ago when they’re toddlers)
but then he sees you swarmed with babies. the nanny took a break and left you in charge and you’re fighting back babies with one of those roll-pop lawn mowers-
ARGHHH ONE JUST SPAT ON THE END OF YOUR RENTAL DRESS DAMNIT.
jade is utterly beside himself with laughter, amusement, and everything of the sorts and creates flirty small talk. and oh?? what's this? his wonderful bundles of joy seem to have found a liking to you? how precious (they’re clawing and climbing you like a jungle gym) jade takes a note of that!
they don't even like their mother that much , simply tolerating her. but jade can tell that his kids got good taste!
he lowkey interviews reader (without them know oops!!) and while yes, their beauty was what drove his interest, second being their personality (you have to be attracted to someone to give them a chance!)
and the twins were the cherry on top!
and conveniently you say where you work (rookie mistake) while he tells you he’s a humble business man… don’t ask what for tho cause that’s a super family secret 🤭
but he's planning and scheming and charming his way into your life and he’s in it for the long run because eels are patient. it just sucks that jade is even more patient, like a saint if you would
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^^accurate depiction of saint jade
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^^and this is jade when he gets questioned for his wife’s uh oh 🤷🏻🤷🏻
maybe she drank too much at a party and fell over the side.
maybe there was a targeted hit meant for jade but they got the wrong one.
maybe a classic batman scenario but jade survived and is throughly traumatized (same with his kids, i mean look at them!!🧍🏻🧍🏻 they’re so torn up that it just breaks his heart😿)
but he’s making chance encounters rather… commonly. (he had reader stalked for a good few years as he was planning everything. just to make sure he likes them& they keep it interesting.)
just... some thoughts about dilf jade leech and his hell spawns hehe (when the trio visited your work they managed to leave your section alone... so it looks like you were in the eye of the hurricane)
im gonna read your other stuff about dilf jade now because AHHHH
Angry at my boss, so I decided to see if there was anything in my inbox to cheer me up. Woo hoo!
In reference to this
Cw: light Yan!, implied stalking, Jade's a freak but if you don't already know that then you aren't paying attention
I can only imagine that, after the party, since you interacted with so many kids and parents that night, they all kind of blurred together. And it's not until, after he visits your place of work, and you chat over text for a while, and you have a real date, then invites you back home for an after date drink, do you start to remember. And that's only because the twins are scamps and stayed up past their bedtimes, and they are staring at you with eyes you remember.
Obviously, you are gonna chalk it up to a coincidence. "Oh my god! You know so-and-so, right? I think I met you at a party a few years ago!" He laughs, and plays along, oh my god,.yeah what a really good coincidence.
Meanwhile, the twins share a look, because Dad has talked about you every day since Mom died, so they know he's lying. Hell, when you aren't here, they already call you mama/papa. But, they are their father's kids, so they are never going to say anything.
One date turns to two turns to three, turns to a year of dating. It's time to meet the family. You know Jade has a twin, but they've taken different paths in life.
So when Dilf Floyd Trudges up the driveway with his six adopted kids, four of whom are sprinting around the house and lawn and destroying Jade's home, two of whom are under Floyd's arms like suitcases, you're in for a culture shock.
When you first meet him, he seems incredibly grumpy. He's got salt and pepper stubble, the baggiest outfit, though you get the feeling it's designer, no matter how slouchy it is, his hair is slicked back, making the grey streaks look neat against his otherwise messy look.
He tosses the kids and yells at them to go play with their cousins, then he rudely shoves past you. Jade stops him with a hand on his shoulder that appears gentle, but if you had felt the full force of it, you'd have landed on your ass. He hissed at Floyd, through a smile, to greet his new fiance. There's a tense moment where they stare at each other, then Floyd storms over to you, and presses a ticklish kiss to your cheek, before muttering, "Welcome to the family," then storming to his room and locking himself in for the night.
The next day it's like he's a different person. He makes breakfast for you and excitedly asks you about yourself, wanting to know everything about his future sibling. Eventually he pours you a glass of what you know is Jade's most expensive wine, which he has been saving for a special occasion, and you finally get the courage to ask about the night before, and he laughs and says he was tired from the trip. Wrangling six kids on an airplane is exhausting, you know?
You decide to ask him about little Jade, and Floyd's stories of childhood charm you so much that you don't notice Jade's brooding presence.
Not that Floyd minds. Yeah, he got off to a rough start with you, but he gets why Jade likes you. And Jade only has two parentless kids, he has six. So his kids need you more than Jade's do, right?
Will the dad's eventually drag the kids into this fight? Absolutely. Those kids have Mafia parents, they have plenty of acting training. They will be pulling those heartstrings of yours 😊
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sunny44 · 9 months
Text
What about us?
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x ex!Reader
Warnings: mentions of loneliness, sadness, breakup, co-parenting and maybe more
Summary: Where Lewis hasn't been himself lately.
Next Chapter
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Lewis and I met when I was working in the media department at Mercedes, I wouldn't say we fell in love at first, but he was definitely the guy I loved most in my life.
But unfortunately not everything we love stays in our lives forever.
We dated for 3 years and then when 2021 came, he was so devastated that the title was taken away from him that our relationship didn’t last.
He was so out of himself that u didn’t recognized him anymore, I seem like the man I love was taken away from me when he lost that day.
So that when we decided to go in separated ways.
But 3 months after i found out that u was pregnant with our daughter and we had to get our path together again. He said to me the day I told him about my pregnancy that I saved him for making the stupidest mistake of his life because he was about to retire from formula 1.
The internet already new that we weren’t together anymore but they just discovered my pregnancy when he posted about it.
We obviously will have a connection for the rest of our lives and I am extremely happy that we manage to be in good terms or co-parenting would have been harder.
I would be lying if I said it was easy because it wasn’t, the fact that we are separated makes Harley's schedule and routine harder than would be if we were together.
Today is Harley’s 3th birthday and I’m was going crazy with everything, she wanted a formula 1 themed party and it was all thanks to her father who got her addicted to the sport.
So here I was running around my apartment to decorate everything while she was with Sebastian and his wife.
Kika is here with Pierre and the other boys helping me with the party.
Lately he was kind of absent, he obviously came to see Harley but when I tried to talk to him, Lewis answered as little as possible and my messages he didn't even answer.
I had been trying to get him to help me with her birthday but now I was worried that he wouldn't come.
I hope he is only busy now in the afternoon because I will kill him if he doesn't show up.
We live in Monaco so some of the drivers came since they are all passionate about Harley.
This includes George, Pierre, Sebastian, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, Max and Lando.
Max and Lewis were not biggest fans of each other, far from it, but Benjamin his son was best friends with Harley so we met occasionally. And above all they treated each other with respect so we had an acceptable relationship for the sake of our children.
And Lewis hated that Harley adored Uncle Max.
The party had been going on for two hours and nothing came of him, I didn't know whether to be worried or angry.
"Mommy, where's Daddy?"
"I don't know my love, he should be here soon." She agrees a little discouraged but runs to where Ben and Max were.
"Anthony do you know where Lewis is?" I asked his father who was talking to my parents.
"I don't know darling, he said he would be a little late but he would come." I sighed in frustration. "I'll try to call him."
"Thank you."
He left to try to call his son and I went off to try to concentrate on distracting Harley with play.
He appeared in the middle of the party and I sighed with relief when I saw him coming through the door with Angela with him, Harley ran up to her father and I was happy to see her smile.
"How nice of you to come." I hugged Angela and she smiled.
"You've done well with the decorations." She said and I thanked her. "Can I talk to you? I want to take advantage of the fact that he's distracted by her."
I looked at the two of them and Harley was talking non-stop and he was listening attentively.
"Sure." We went into the kitchen where no one was around. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm not sure, I'm a bit worried about him."
"What happened?"
"I arrived at his apartment today and everything was a mess and he was asleep on the sofa." I was surprised because he rarely slept during the day and his apartment was always spotless. "I tried to talk to him but you know how he is, Lewis doesn't open up easily but he ended up saying that he wasn't happy and that he missed you both a lot."
"But we're always here."
"I think he misses a family." I sighed because I understood his feeling. "You know that he loves you both more than anything in the world and I remember when you were together he was planning to marry you, have children and have you live in a more secluded house so that you wouldn't be swallowed up by the media but from one moment to the next his plan became just a dream."
"I understand."
"And the only thing that's kept him going over the last few years is that little girl and the fact that you're her mother because that's what's kept you in his life. But he hasn't been the same for a while."
"I've noticed that he's been acting strange lately, he doesn't talk to me directly and avoids me whenever he can."
"Because he knows that you know him like the back of your hand and that you would know what was wrong with him." She takes my hand. "I'm not telling you this because I want you to feel guilty or anything, but I wanted to ask you to talk to him and try to help him in any way you can."
"All right, I'll talk to him after the party."
...
I said goodbye to the last few people and the only ones that were still around was Max, Ben and Lewis
"Buddy it's about time we go home." He says trying to talk the boy off the trampoline.
"Not yet Daddy, wait a little longer." He says short of breath from jumping around.
"If you don't mind I can take him to your apartment later."
"All right, thanks." He said goodbye and went home.
They kept jumping on the trampoline while Lewis was inside grabbing the trash.
After 10 minutes Bem said he was tired and i asked Lewis to watch Harley while I take him to his father and when I came back I could hear them in her room.
"I've missed you so much, Daddy." She says, already lying on her bed.
"I missed you too baby bear." She smiles tiredly and closes her eyes. He kisses her forehead and stays there for a few more minutes until he sees that she's asleep.
"Hey." He smiles as soon as he sees me outside her room. "I'm sorry I couldn't help, I got caught up with some work stuff."
He was lying but I knew it was juts for me not to worry about him.
"It's okay, I sorted it out." He smiled and went back into the living room. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Maybe because I know you better than you think." He sighs. "You don't have to tell me what it is, but I want you to know that I care about you."
"It's just that everything's been a bit too much lately."
"What do you mean?"
"The constant pressure at work, the media, the fact that I'm not there for you two every day. Everything." He turns to me. "I just don't know how much I can take anymore."
"Lewis..."
"I miss you, and I miss us, I miss Harley and this feeling that I'm good at what I do has been haunting me."
"But you are good."
"Apparently not so much because I can't even stand on the podium." I sighed. "I don't expect you to understand but I don't think I want to do this anymore."
"What do you want to do then?" He looks at me. "You know that Harley and I don't care if you're a driver or not, we care about you too much to worry about whether you're still in Formula 1 or not."
"It's just that I've lived this for so long that I just wish I could be with you every day without worrying about having to catch a flight to the other side of the world."
"I understand and I'll support you in whatever you decide.
"Thank you." I sat down on the sofa and nudged him to sit next to me, which he did, resting his head on my shoulder. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"I know, I love you too."
"But I love you in a way that..."
"I know, and I love you the same way." He looks at me. "I understood what you meant from the start."
"And what does that mean for us?"
"I don't know but we don't need to find out today, we have plenty of time." He smiles and we lie down on the sofa.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername instagram post
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Liked by @lewishamilton, @susiewolf, @cherlesleclerc and others 293629
@yourusername I still can believe my baby is turning 3 years old today.
I’m so happy that I’m your mama and that I’m able to watch you grow and turn into this beautiful little girl.
I can’t imagine my life without you and I’m grateful for having you in my life.
Thank you @lewishamilton for making me a mama and for giving me the best gift anyone could ever give me.
Happy birthday sweet girl, mama loves you so much 🩵.
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Guys I have so many ideias for another chapters of Lewis being Harleys dad so if you guys want to read the next chapters let me know so I’ll tag you guys.
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
Text
mine of you with me
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Been busy this week bc my ex is getting married and I have to go to the wedding. His fiancée (wife?) asked me to be there and I love her, so I said yes, but I regret it big time. Requests are still open! I’m working on the requests in my inbox, but wrote this to get it out of my system. It goes with/happens before “three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life.” Anyway. Here ya go. mine of you with me
You love going to Jamie’s games. You love watching him play his heart out on the pitch. It’s fun, being in the stands and screaming for Richmond. You wear his jersey (his actual jersey, one that he owns) and deck yourself out in Richmond gear. You think your favorite part, however, is sneaking around.
You’re dating Jamie Tartt, star footballer, and no one knows.  
Today is a game against Crystal Palace. Jamie had left before you with a single “Bye babe,” and a kiss. 
After he leaves, you debate stealing one of his orange kits (they’re the most comfortable) but decide against it. Too obvious to be in a sea of red and blue. You settle for a regular “Bantr” shirt and head out the door to meet Keeley. 
Keeley and Rebecca were aware that you were with Jamie. Keeley, because Jamie swore you’d be best friends. Rebecca, because there was a ticket mixup and Keeley was busy so she sent Rebecca to the ticket booth to sort things out with “Jamie’s special guest,” which led Rebecca to be very surprised when she saw you instead of one of his family members. 
It made things easier, really, to show up on Nelson Road under the guise of seeing Rebecca and/or Keeley. Time passed and it became less of a guise. You really enjoyed their company, and having someone to talk to about Jamie. 
But here you are, back in the present, with Rebecca trying to convince you to sit in the box while Keeley threads blue, red, and gold through your hair. 
You just laugh and hug them goodbye, heading your separate ways. Them, up; you, down. 
You settle into your seat right up to the pitch, and wait for the game to begin. Jamie’s picked a seat that’s right where the teams line up, so you’ll get a good view of him before it starts. 
Shortly after, the teams begin to walk out onto the pitch. You look for Jamie and catch his eye. 
I like your hair, he mouths, pointing slightly to his own. 
Thanks, you reply with a small grin. 
Jamie gives you a look that says I’m going to be pulling it later so you return with one that means I was counting on it.
Is it bad that you two understand each others expressions that well?
No time to dwell on that, because the game’s beginning. 
Richmond’s done alright, they haven’t lost necessarily, but they did tie. You can feel the tension through the building as you weave your way through players and staff, carrying a stack of papers from Higgins to Rebecca. You’re almost to the stairs leading up to her office when someone crashes into you, sending papers flying. 
“I’m so sorry!” you say, “that is totally my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“No it isn’t,” a voice replies indignantly. “He was walking backwards!”
Jamie mumbles, “Shut up, Isaac,” while bending down to help you shuffle your papers together. 
“Sorry about that,” he says softly. “Weren’t looking where I was goin’. I’m Jamie, by the way.”
He holds out his hand and you shake it, mentally commending his presence-of-mind to act like a stranger. “Nice to meet you, Jamie,” you reply. “I’m a friend of Rebecca’s.”
“He knows,” Colin pipes up, followed by an “Oi,” because Isaac smacked him. 
“I’ve uh, got to go,” you say. “See you around.”
“See ya,” the lads chorus, Jamie watching you and Colin and Isaac watching Jamie. 
Jamie turns around to see them grinning at him. 
“Oi, what,” he says, hands in the air. 
Isaac states, “You like her.”
Colin interjects, “Don’t even try to deny it, boyo, we saw how you looked at her. You think she’s fit.”
Jamie is sure he played it cooler than that. Maybe they just know him too well. 
He laughs it off all the way to the locker room, changes, showers, and waits for Dani to walk out the door. They leave in a group, him, Isaac, Dani, and Colin, and as they turn the corner past the boot room you appear with Rebecca.
“Ladies,” Dani grins. Dani has a bit of a crush on you. 
You and Rebecca smile back. 
“Oi,” says Isaac, “do you want to join us tonight at the club? Trying to forget our tie streak.”
You open your mouth to decline when Rebecca replies, “We’d love to. I’m assuming Keeley will be there as well?”
“Becca,” you hiss, “I can’t go the club tonight.”
“Whyever not?”
You blush slightly. “I was planning on spending the evening with my boyfriend.”
The boys share furtive looks amongst themselves and not-so-subtly poke Jamie.
Rebecca says, “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to join you at the club. It’s settled, we’ll be there,” with a smile to the lads. 
It takes every ounce of your willpower not to look at Jamie and to walk away with dignity. 
“Did you hear that, Jamie?” Isaac asks, “She’s got a boyfriend. Sorry, mate.”
Jamie shrugs and does his best to look disappointed. “Must be a lucky man,” he says. “Now can we please go? My hair’s a fuckin wreck.”
“Mine too,” Dani says with a sorrowful shake of his head. They boys laugh and head out the door. 
You’re at the club, standing at the bar with Rebecca. Jamie is there too, with the Richmond boys. Trent and Beard are there too, but Ted has opted to stay home. He’s not big into the club scene. Jamie’s sitting and laughing with the boys, but his eyes keep flicking over to you. Isaac notices and thumps him on the chest. 
“Oi. She’s got a boyfriend, remember?”
Jamie nods and tears his eyes away from you. 
“Dani, mate, you need a drink?” Jamie doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s out of his seat and headed over to the bar. Headed over to you. 
Colin rolls his eyes, Isaac shakes his head, and Dani shrugs. “I cannot say no to a free drink,” he says. 
Meanwhile, Jamie leans against the bar, holds up two fingers, then turns to you while waiting for his drinks. “Boyfriend didn’t show up?”
You grin and look around the room. “He’s here somewhere. We came separately. Not really sure where he’s gone off to.”
Jamie smiles back. “Not much of a boyfriend if he leaves someone as fuckin’ pretty as you at the bar all by herself.”
You shrug. “I’m with Rebecca. And he’s ok, I guess. When I find him, I’m going to tell him I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, and ask if he wants to meet at his place or mine.”
Jamie’s eyes become hungry. “His place. Definitely his. In fact, I think I just saw him slip out the door. D’you mind taking Dani his drink? You can have mine.”
You nod, unable to speak. Just a glint in his eye, and he’s become almost feral. You swear his teeth are pointier and your mouth goes dry.
Nice hair. I’m going to be pulling it later.
He’s gone before you can say anything else, and you have to press your hands to your face to cool down your cheeks.
Rebecca has been graciously pretending as though she can’t hear while scrolling on her phone. She looks up only when you grab Jamie’s drink, down it in a single gulp, and then pick up Dani’s.
She raises an eyebrow. “I take it I’m on my own for the rest of the night?”
You shake your head. “Isn’t Keeley here?”
There’s a ghost of a smile on Rebecca’s face. “Pretty sure she’s trying to take Roy home, so she is here in body but not so much in mind.”
You make what you hope is a neutral face. “Bec, you could get a man.”
She laughs. “Let’s get Dani his drink, shall we? I believe you’re leaving in twelve minutes.”
You set Dani’s drink down in front of him as Isaac asks, “Where’s your boyfriend? I thought he was supposed to be here.” 
You shrug for the second time that night. “He had to go. I think I’ll be leaving soon too.”
There’s a chorus of wolf-whistles and you blush, again.
“Where did Jamie go?” Sam asks. “Did you break his heart that badly when he was flirting with you?”
You shake your head. You can feel Rebecca, poised as ever, next to you. It’s taking all your composure to maintain a straight face. 
“I don’t- I’m not sure. He said something about training and sleep and I think he had to go? And I didn’t break his heart. He’s not into me.”
“Oh please,” Jan Maas speaks up, “His eyes follow you whenever you come to see Ms. Welton.”
You’re positive your face has caught on fire. “He just- he must- I don’t know. I have a boyfriend… He’s really great, and- I mean- I’ll talk to Jamie.”
“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Jan Maas shrugs. “It is just the facts.”
Sam puts his hand on your shoulder. “It is alright. We will take care of it. Jamie is the type of person who falls hard and fast, and sometimes he does not care if the other person is unavailable. He sees what he wants and just goes for it. It’s why he is such a good footballer.”
You smile. “Thanks, Sam. I should probably go.” You turn to Isaac and Colin. “Thanks for inviting me. I really did have a great time. And maybe next time you can actually meet my boyfriend.”
They wave, you poke Rebecca and glance at Sam, then head out, pretending you don’t see her panicked absolutely not face.
You text Jamie, I’m on my way, and he taps back with a heart.
Door’s unlocked he replies, and then you’re off.
He doesn’t live very far, so you’re at his house in no time at all. You can see a few dim lights on inside, so you walk up the steps and push the door open.
“Jamie?” you call, “I’m here!”
You hear his footsteps clamoring down the stairs and in a moment he’s on you, fingers threaded through your hair as you kiss. He’s pulling you close, impossibly close, then without warning he picks you up, bridal style. He’s still in his clothes from the club.
He kisses you all the way up the stairs, then places you on the edge of the bed.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he says, voice pitched low. “I fucking loved your hair.”
You shiver as he lifts your dress over your head and runs his knuckles along your sides. You note that the room is bathed in dim light, from candles Jamie has lit and placed around. There’s soft music playing somewhere and you’re honestly surprised he pulled this together in fifteen minutes. You look at him on his knees in front of you, one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt then settle for lifting it over his head. 
“God,” you say, “you’re beautiful.”
He smiles, eyes hungry again. He gently pushes you back down on the bed and climbs on top of you. “Pretty sure that’s my line, babe.”
You don’t really talk until you’re both laying under the sheets, hours later, arms wrapped around waists and shoulders and legs intertwined.
Jamie’s kissing a trail from your shoulder to your inner elbow when you whisper, “Babe.”
He hums softly. “Yeah?”
“Do you think- do you think you should tell the team about us?”
Jamie pulls back slightly so he can look into your eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”
You shrug as best you can between his arms. “I just think it would make things easier, you know? I mean, I still think sneaking around is sexy and all, but like- it’s just getting harder and harder around Nelson Road.”
Jamie kisses the tip of your nose. “Whatever you fucking want babe. I’d give you the keys to me house if you asked.”
You smile, then let yourself drift to sleep.
The next morning, Jamie makes his way to his locker and tapes up a new photo. He’s holding a girl in front of Big Ben, and they’re both laughing. It’s his favorite photo. Sam sneaks a look and then does a double take.
“Jamie,” he says, disbelief written on his face, “Is that Rebecca’s friend? When did you take that?”
There’s a clamor while the team crowds around Jamie’s locker, Jamie grinning smugly.
“She’s me girlfriend. Been dating for months now. Didn’t want her to be harassed by press and you lot, so we kept it a secret.”
“I fucking knew you liked her!” Isaac says. “Body language doesn’t fucking lie.”
Jamie shrugs. “Never said I didn’t.”
“What about her boyfriend?” Dani interjects. “Does he know?”
Jamie turns to look at him, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not. “Muchacho, I’m the boyfriend.”
“Ohhh,” Dani replies, “that makes much more sense!”
“Oi, you lot!” Roy shouts. “You can discuss Tartt’s love life after fucking training. Get on the fucking pitch!”
There’s a chorus of “Yes coach, sorry coach!”
Jamie takes one last look at your picture, grins, then follows the rest of the team out the door.
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bo0tleg · 3 months
Text
GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING 'TOP GUN: MAVERICK' FOR THE FIRST TIME:
"The jacket! The famous jacket that pulls women, pulls men, pulls the world!"
"Oh look how hot~ he looks on that motorcicle. He's even pracing his ass!"
(Maverick, on screen: "Well... He's not here yet.") The mans madness has begun."
"MAVERICK DON'T DIE YOU STILL NEED TO HAVE YOUR GAY ROMANCE!"
"He lasted two months at Top Gun? HA. He probably was a bigger piece of work than the students."
"From what I can tell, Maverick tamed Iceman. In the first one he was the little annoying bitch and Maverick saw a challenge."
"I mean, at least these two (Penny and Mav) have chemistry. They hooked up in a plane, after all."
"Iceman solves his problems, Iceman keeps his job, what a simp. That's dog behavior."
"Maverick doesn't look likes he's flirting with her, he's just confused. His confused face looks like his flirting face, and people assume. I know this because people do it to me."
"Yeah, he's kinda like that one Olívia Rodrigo song that she gets confused when she sees her ex... What was it again?" ('bad Idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo)
"I like him (Bob)! He's pathetic like me!"
"Oooohhh they're (Phoenix and Bob) gonna be besties! I can feel it."
(When Phoenix racks Rooster with the cue) "OHOHOHOOOO I LIKE HER ALREADY."
(Didn't notice Hangman taking Bob's cue, I relayed the information) "Aaaahhh don't steal Bob's cue. Bob's cool, Bob's nice."
(After rewinding the scene) "NO, NO, NO! WHO IS THAT? NOBODY CAN STEAL BOB'S CUE! I don't like him (Hangman)."
(Hangman, on screen: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!) *Slowly turns towards me with dead eyes*
"That's not enemies to lovers, that's just enemies."
"With just this scene, I can tell this guy (Hangman) comes and goes. 'Sometimes I flirt with you, sometimes I hate you.' He's like a tsudere."
"Oh, got it. Phoenix is adopted into the man's group. She's a bro."
"I wouldn't say that they're his support system, but those two are the people that know him the best. Hangman is paying attention because he wants to be the best and needs to defeat Rooster. Phoenix is demonstrating a more sibling like worry."
"Hondo is like Mavericks babysitter."
"Oh. Oh, now Mav's flirting with her."
(Following the 'Baby on Board' comment) "Don't talk shit about Bob! I don't like Hangman."
"Maverick is like a step father to Rooster. Not in the 'HAHA I FUCKED YOUR MOM' kind of way, but in the way that he helped raise him."
"Where is Iceman? I'm here for the two of them, I don't give a fuck about Aeronautics."
"I think Ice and Maverick had a long relationship, but they're not together anymore. They maintained a friendship, but their lives probably went in different directions. I'd say they were together for 10, maybe 20 years."
('I ain't worried' by OneRepublic starts playing) "This song is from 2022? OH MY GOD THE SCENE"
"DON'T PLAY AROUND WITH GRANDPA!"
*Started chanting "BOB! BOB! BOB!" When he got picked up*
*Eeriely quiet during the bird strike, until Maverick starts talking to Rooster* "OH THEY'RE NOT DEAD. THEY COULDN'T HAVE KILLED BOB! IF THEY KILLED BOB I WOULD STOP AND NEVER WATCH TOP GUN EVER AGAIN!"
"Definitely 20 years. Ice is probably the only person Mav actually loved. Like, not a fling?" "Yeah, probably." "He's been with lots of women, and men, but Iceman is the only person he was ever in love with– maybe still is."
"I think his (Ice's) wife knows. That's probably why she recognizes Mav and is kind of friends with him." "That's probably why she just let him go up to see Ice." "YEAH GO AHEAD, FUCK MY HUSBAND!"
"It's pretty easy to notice that Snowman– No, ICEman."
"That is the face of a man who just lost the love of his life."
"Damn, the mans a beast. If It was me I'd already have cried, alone, in a room absolutely destroyed, never to come out again."
"He's got nobody, dude! I just want his step child to come back, because If he doesn't that man's gonna kill himself!"
"Why does it always have to have a romantic ending. Just leave him with his adoptive son. Go away."
"They (Penny and Mav) aren't going to end up together."
"I have a theory! Fanboy is obsessed with women! Cus he's 'Fanboy'." "But wouldn't he be called Simp, then?" "Ah, then he's obsessed with men." "... simp can be for men too."
"There's gonna be a Top Gun Three? Who's it gonna be about? It ain't gonna be Maverick, that man has a foot in the grave already."
"Bob is my favorite in the second movie. I have no favorites in the first one because everybody is very macho and very gay, and that's boring."
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paradiseprincesss · 3 days
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please we need more Jim the delinquent season!!! please I beg idc if it's smut or fluff or both... Lol btw I am invested in your fics... Wait ngl smut sounds lovely...
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perfect for you - jim (the delinquent season) x reader
masterlist
notes: hello lovely anon, i can definitely do that for you! fluffy and smutty jim content is a need. ugh, what i would do to call him mine.
summary: you've always found your best friends dad attractive. unbeknownst to you, the feeling was mutual on his end, especially after his divorce. one night, your best friend goes somewhere, leaving you and her dad alone together.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, kissing, age gap (everyone is legal), reader is implied to be around 20 and jim is in his 40's, bestfriends dad! trope, p in v, aftercare <3
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cassie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. the two of you had met in elementary school, and your friendship lasted a lifetime. now, both you and her were attending college together; all grown up. purposefully, the two of you aimed to get into the same college as neither of you wanted to spend time apart from each other, even when it came to school.
you'd known her for ages, and you were super close with her family. likewise, she was close with yours, as you'd basically grown up together. however, cassie's parents divorced just over a year ago, so much to your dismay, you didn't get to see her mom as frequently anymore. she'd moved out even before her divorce was finalized, and you'd only see her occasionally now.
cassie decided to live her with her dad, jim, as he owned a lovely house quite close to campus, and you also lived just down the road. it was convenient for the both of you. jim was never very talkative, definitely more reserved than his ex-wife ever was, and you'd only really gotten to know him more after the divorce.
even though you'd known him for a majority of your life, you clicked with cassie's mom much more - isn't that how it always is, though? regardless, you would still come over frequently to cassie's place, as the two of you always worked on assignments together. even though she majored in something completely different than you, that didn't stop either of you from bonding over the college experience together.
for the first couple months after the divorce, jim was quiet. he would make small talk with the two of you, maybe ask how your lectures went but otherwise he would keep to himself.
during one particularly hot summer day, jim was having a few of his friends over to watch some sort of sports game, while you and cassie were upstairs working on homework. that same night, cassie got a text from a guy she was interested in from her class who'd asked her out, and you encouraged her to go out with him.
jim and you had talked a bit more frequently at this point in time, since he was finally coming out of his shell more. you didn't blame him after the whole thing with his marriage ending and all. that being said, you felt comfortable just chilling at her place as you'd most likely end up going home pretty soon after she'd left anyway.
plus, this wasn't out of the ordinary for you nor her. she'd often stay at your place for a few days at a time sometimes; the two of you were close like that. you'd do the same, staying over at hers for a few days as well, neither of your parents minded. it had always been this way, even when the two of you were growing up.
"are you sure? i can always tell him i'm busy." she asked you, touching up her makeup.
"oh my god, cass. just go, you've liked this guy for so long!" you insisted, giggling.
"yeah, i know," she laughed, "my dad has his buddies over to watch the stupid game, though. you can go home if you want, but if you get tired feel free to crash at mine tonight."
"i live down the road, but i will definitely keep that in mind." you say with a laugh, shaking your head.
"yeah but your basically my sister, so i don't care if you sleep here or whatever." she says, applying some lipgloss as she fixed her hair.
"go have fun tonight," you say to her, "and text me all the details."
"obviously," she says, turning to face you, "do i look good?"
"duh, like always." you say, glancing at her but returning to your notes as you scribble more stuff down from your textbook.
"if all goes well...i'll text you in the morning." she laughs, and you shake your head laughing along with your best friend.
that night, cassie did in fact have a great night - so great, in fact, that she ended up staying over at that guys house. however, she wasn't the only one who ended up sleeping in someone else's bed that night.
one thing led to another while cassie was gone for the night, and somehow you ended up in jims bed, tangled in the sheets and wrapped up in his arms. sleeping with your best friends dad was not something you planned on doing, but it sort of just...happened.
his buddies has gone home for the night, and you wandered downstairs so that you could quietly leave and return back to your house; but you noticed everyone had left already.
"you didn't go out with cassie?" jim's voice called out from behind you, and you turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
"no," you shake your head, "i have a final next week, i needed to study for it."
"ah, smart girl." he said softly in that accent that made your knees weak. for a moment, he was quiet. just staring at you while you stared back, unsure of what else to say.
"do you need help cleaning up?" you ask politely, since it wasn't too late. it was only quarter past eight, and he looked a little tired.
"don't worry about it." he smiled, and you shook your head.
"least i could do, i'm always over here anyways." you insisted, making your way to the kitchen.
there were only a few dishes scattered around, along with some empty beer cans and a few cups. you helped him put the food on the counter away and cleaned some of the dishes. after the two of you were done, he looked at you with a soft smile.
"you've always been so helpful," he smiled, "i appreciate it."
"it's no problem." you say back, watching him lean against the counter.
he doesn't respond, but instead just looks at you under the dim kitchen lighting, and his baby blue eyes pierce right through you.
"do you have a boyfriend? remind me, i forgot." he asked suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heating up at his rather...innocent question.
"n-no, i don't." you say with a nervous laugh.
"c'mere." he said and for a second, you thought you'd misheard him.
"what?" you asked quietly.
"come here." he repeated.
hesitantly, you make your way closer to him and look up at his blue eyes. he glances down at you, still leaning against the counter with his hands gripping the edge.
okay - if you were being totally honest right now, you had always found your best friends dad to be really attractive. but he was married for the longest time and he was also the father of your lifelong best friend! it was wrong on so many levels, but it appeared that neither of you seemed to cared.
suddenly, his hand was making it's way onto your waist, and you almost felt the need to pinch yourself in case this was all just a very vivid dream you were having.
"the walls are thin, you know," he said softly, rubbing circles into your waist with his thumb, "i heard you last week, on the phone to your friend or whoever while cassie was picking milo up from the vet."
your heart dropped. last week, cassie had to pick her dog up from the vet, and you were home alone with jim for around half an hour. within that half hour, another friend of yours called and somehow, the topic landed on jim. well, more like you'd told your friend you were staying at cassie's for the evening, which led to the friend asking about her parents divorce, which then led you to say some interesting things about jim.
"if he wasn't cassie's dad, i'd be all over that." you said to your friend as the both of you giggled over the phone.
"yeah, i've seen him. like, damn." your friend said, making you laugh once more.
"you have no idea what it's like when i come over, i literally have to force myself to focus on something - anything else." you tell her, but then you heard the front door open. "mhm, yeah. okay, i gotta go. bye."
with that, you ended your phone call - not realizing jim had been grabbing the laundry from the washer out in the hall. he heard everything, and he couldn't lie; it really turned him on. he always knew it was wrong, but he was definitely attracted to you. it started out innocent, like for example, it started when you had turned nineteen. he would think you looked really pretty when you wore a certain outfit, or when you did your hair a certain way.
then, as the next year or two went by, he found himself noticing other things about you. like how perky your tits looked in a certain shirt, or how badly he wanted to see you bend over when you wore a specific skirt. he tried to shake the thoughts of out his head - but it was no use.
"i-i didn't-" you stammered.
"shh," he assured you, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. honestly, i wish you'd said something sooner."
"...you do?" you asked, a little taken aback by his words.
"i do," he said softly, "so why don't we both stop pretending like this isn't bound to happen."
his hands trailed along your waist and your hips, before his grip on them became tighter. pulling you close, he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face. the both of you leaned in - but you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him.
"jim, wait," you say, looking up at the older man in front of you, "i-i can't- i don't do casual hookups. their just not-"
"your thing, i know. i wasn't trying to imply that this was just going to be that," he assures you once more, "i want you in more than just that way."
"o-okay," you almost whisper, "me too."
he doesn't offer a verbal response, but rather gives your ass a tight squeeze whilst his lips came crashing down on yours. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck as he backs you up into the kitchen counter. recklessly, his lips still locked with yours, he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island. for a moment, both of you break away from the kiss with pink-tinted cheeks.
the thrill of kissing a man so much older than you (who also happened to be your best friends dad) was getting you worked up, and judging by the tent in his pants; it was getting him worked up, too. gently, he helped you out of your hoodie and sweats. you felt a shiver go up your spine as your ass rested on the cold granite of the counter, and he bit down on his lip at sight. with all your clothes discarded, you sat pretty for his taking on the counter with your pink, lacy bra and matching pink thong.
"look at you," he groaned, "so pretty, princess."
clearly, neither of you could even wait to take it to the bedroom. so, with adrenaline running through your veins, you help him out of his sweater and he reaches for his belt buckle. he pulls you into another heated kiss, this time one of his hands coming up to your throat to give it a soft squeeze. as he choked you gently, you moaned into his mouth, the action driving him insane.
he pulled away from the kiss and you felt his tip poke at your folds. you look down for a moment, and you could see him stroking himself with one hand as he lined his cock up with your entrance while the other hand rested gently around your throat.
before he put it in, he looked at you to make sure that this was okay, though he didn't say a word. you gave him a small, affirming nod and he rubbed the head of his cock against your wetness before plunging his cock in, taking you on the kitchen counter.
you let out a gasp as his veiny cock filled you, and he groaned at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. his hand quickly came off of your neck and down to your waist, his other hand doing the same. as his hands found purchase on your waist, he started to move in and out slowly, letting you adjust.
"j-jim," you moaned, throwing your head back, "ugh, feels so good."
"yeah?" he groaned, thrusting in and out much faster now, "d'you hear how wet you are, princess?"
when he mentioned it, your cheeks burned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from his cock pounding your cunt. you could hear it - your pussy was dripping, and it was evident by the squelching sounds in the quiet kitchen.
"s-so wet, just for you- fuuuuck-" you whimper as his cock hit all the right spots inside of you.
one of jim's hands snaked up to your breasts, roughly kneading it and making you moan. you drooling hole started to squeeze down onto his fat cock, making him lose his breath. the both of you were chasing your highs and getting closer by the second.
"f-fuck, you're so tight, m'gonna fill this tight little pussy up." he decided, fucking into you deeply as he took you on his kitchen countertop.
"so close, jim, s-so mmph, close!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure consumed you and the coil inside of your stomach snapped.
"thaaaats it," he praised, "keep squeezing me like that, princess."
you bit your lip and moaned at the way he was talking, and he felt himself tip over the edge as he spilled into you with a groan. his hips continued to buck into you for a few more moments, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your aching cunt.
after you both came down from your highs, he pulled his softening cock out of you. he watched with a sigh at the sight your pretty pussy which was now dripping with his cum. swiftly, he got a towel and started to wipe it up for you. he was taking his time and making sure you were taken care of afterwards, of course.
"how are you feeling?" he asked softly, wiping his seed that was dripping out from your cunt.
"a little sleepy," you admitted with a half-lidded smile, "and a little hungry."
"how about i run you a bath?" he suggested, laughing softly, "and then i'll order us some takeout from that italian place you like down on 47th and main."
"you know my favourite takeout place?" you giggle.
"obviously i do," he admits with a chuckle, "you told me a few months ago, remember?"
"well, yeah. i just didn't expect you to actually remember." you say with a sigh, and he pulls you into a chaste kiss.
"of course i remember, how could i forget?" he smiles after giving you a small peck, "so, does that sound good? a bath and your favourite takeout? then you can sleep in my bed tonight with me."
"first of all, that sounds wonderful, baby," you say, casually throwing the pet name in, "and secondly, can you join me in the bath, pretty please?"
he smiled as you called him baby, "i can't say no to that, princess."
"good." you say, beaming up at him.
true to his word, he did run you two a hot bath which you both enjoyed. after your steamy bath, he ordered your favourite food and the two of you laughed and cuddled on the couch whilst sharing a bottle of your favourite wine. after the two of you finished, you were both sleepy. as you and jim slipped into bed, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, giving you a kiss on the head before you both fell asleep.
the next morning, the two of you were still tangled in the sheets together, cuddled up in the blankets all cozy. cassie had returned sometime in the early hours just before sunrise, and as she made her way up the stairs, she noticed her dads bedroom door was cracked open slightly. she paid no mind to it - until she caught a glimpse of you in his bed with him.
doing a double take, she poked her head into his bedroom to find the both of you peacefully asleep. your head was resting on his chest as his arms were draped over you, the both of you looking so content.
cassie smiled and shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she made her way back to her own room. contrary to what most peoples reactions would be; she wasn't mad. in fact, she kind of saw it coming in hindsight and hey, if you made him happy and he was good to you, then so be it.
though the both of you seemed oblivious to it, everyone else could see that you were perfect for him, and he was perfect for you.
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ceilidho · 9 months
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Earlier this week I was hooked on possessive best friend Soap and today I'm hooked onto ex-husband Price, I didn't even consider myself a Price girl up until now but the thought of him "spending the night" after the game and tiring out his poor ex wife so much that she ends up sleeping in and waking up to her ex husband making toast for the kids, the kids will run up and say how happy they are that dad stayed the night and helped make breakfast for them and Price turns around and hands her a cup of coffee just how she likes it with the most cockiest smrik even IM SO HOOKED! 😫
It ruins your mood every single time because you keep trying to establish rules to make the divorce work and it's not even fully Price's fault that they keep getting torn down because you're just letting it happen.
You let him stay the night because the two of you had accompanied the boys to a birthday party turned sleepover (but you never let the boys sleep over at someone else's house, so you just let them stay over until later than usual) and the two of you were just exhausted. Even John looked beat, and you know he's used to going days and weeks without sleeping properly in the military.
And maybe you felt something ache in you when you thought about him going back to his apartment, all alone in the middle of the night. Quiet except for the sounds of the city outside. Sometimes it does keep you up at night, that he let you stay in the house with the boys and he was the one that got an apartment after you separated. He could've easily insisted on selling the house, but he knew how much you loved this house.
So you let him stay the night. And he looked exhausted before you extended the offer, but that only lasted until he had the two of you tucked away in the master bedroom (your old bedroom, where the two of you used to sleep together when he lived here) after putting the boys to bed. He must not have gotten that the invitation to sleepover meant that he would take the couch.
John seems to remember your old bedtime routine quite well. You're still so sleepy, so you let him turn you onto your belly and hoist your hips up. He opens you up on a couple thick fingers that have you gripping the bedsheets and muffling your moans into the mattress lest the boys hear. When he finally sinks into your heat, it makes your vision go white. It's been so long. It's only ever been John, but it's been a while since you last did this and the stretch is as decadent as ever. He says he's going to make a mess inside of you; that this is his job, where he's meant to be, that he'll give you another baby if that's what it takes.
You can't even find the words to answer him. Even if you could, he presses you down against the bed with a hand flat on your head.
You're all ruffled and sleep-addled the next morning. Fuzzy around the edges, like you usually are after sex. It only agitates you a little to find your ex in top spirits in the kitchen, fussing over the boys and handing you your coffee, reeling you in with a hand on the back of your nape to press a kiss to the top of your head.
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
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lost in the fire - e.b
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summary: when visiting the home of a newly divorced couple in their high-security home, things get very heated for y/n and buck.
evan buckley x reader
a/n: based on one of my fav s19 episodes 🤭 also sorry for typos i’m tired and i wanna go to sleep 😁
“damn it, oliver! you called the cops?” the woman yells when she sees the red and blue lights and blaring sirens.
“audrey, there is a fire if you didn’t notice! i called the fire department!” he argues back, then turning to the 118. “my wife was just burning all of our belongings together, and the fireplace just started sparking.”
“ex-wife.” audrey grumbles.
“ok, ma’am. we need to get in there, so why don’t you, sir, come get checked out.” bobby says, leading the husband to henrietta. “we heard there were some difficulties getting in so buck, y/l/n, go see if you can get those doors open and start hitting this thing from the middle.”
“on it, cap.” buck says and the two follow the wife back into the house.
“alright so, i created this whole system to keep this house in line and it’s all programmed a certain way,” she informs the firefighters beside her. she continues to ramble on about how long it took her and how she formed it all.
“ok, well why don’t we open it?” y/n asks, politely but with a little force as well. the woman places her hand on the buzzer of the door, and it buzzes a bright red color. “huh, that’s weird. i’ll try it again.” the second time she places her finger on it, the same thing happens but another warning comes up talking about the attempts left. she pulls her hand back and observes her thumb.
“looks like you blistered it trying to burn all that stuff, it probably won’t work even if you do it a few times.” buck says to her, giving her something to wrap around her blistered thumb.
“well, here, i’ll just try it again.” buck and y/n exchange a look of confusion and doubt that it’ll work, but they wait around for her to try and get the fire revealed to them. “ugh! shit!” they all turn around and look at the door of the garage sliding down into the locked mode.
“no, no!” y/n runs over and hits on the door, realizing she was too late to try and prevent it from closing. “well, that didn’t work. do you happen to have another way to get in?”
“i have a code,” they sigh out of relief because they can already feel the intense heat filling up the garage. “but it’s getting fixed right now. of course, i mean perfect timing for my house to burn down.”
“hey, your house will be ok, we just have to try and figure out how to get through this door.” buck reassures audrey, even though he also isn’t sure how to make it out of here. “when will the system reset?”
she mumbles quietly, looking down at her shoes and taking off her sweater. “maybe a few hours, at least.” buck groans out and looks over to y/n who has a face filled with disbelief. she pulls out her radio and speaks into it.
“cap, it might be a while before we get into the actual house. looks like we’re stuck in here.”
“we gotta get you guys out of there quickly, it is way too hot to be in there for too long.” bobby says, light panic fading through his voice.
“chim! eddie! go grab the jaws and try to pry this door open before our friends get cooked alive. get at the weakest parts of the door and try to break this code.”
————————————————————————
after what felt like days inside that garage, the temperature rises to 110°. they were practically baking inside, with thick beads of sweat falling down their faces. with no water or air, they were already dehydrated and could suffocate in this garage if they could not open it.
the clatter from outside becomes distant as the heat begins to get heavier on their bodies. they are already on the cool cement floor of the room, but even with that, their clothes are soaked. audrey sits over in one of the corners and y/n and buck sit in the other.
“if we ever get married, don’t burn our stuff.” buck says.
“you think i’d burn your stuff?”
“well you never know, that guy clearly didn’t see it coming.”
“we’re firefighters, buck. i think we’d know better.” she smiles at him through the feeling of the sun touching the earth's crust. “at least we’re in here together though.”
buck blushes like he has a middle school crush on her, even though they’ve been dating for a while. “me too, just wish it wasn’t as hot as the devil's ass in here.”
“i wish i had the keys, maybe crank the AC of the car,” audrey says from the corner, eyeing her car.
“AC sounds heavenly, but we won’t have AC again if we get carbon monoxide poisoning from the engine.” y/n tells her, leaning back. it seems like every option they have just get shut down immediately, placing them in more danger.
“buck, y/n/n, how’s it going in there?” bobby’s voice comes in through the radio again.
“pretty good for being in an oven, but uh, get us out please.” buck says. “temps hit 115°”
————————————————————————
heavy breaths and panting have become the only noise in the room. the heat was becoming unbearable, and faith was shrinking as the fire grew. the bangs and hits from outside became almost irrelevant to the heating thoughts in their thumping heads.
“this was not on my bingo card for this year.” buck tries joking around, but neither feels like it anymore.
“save your oxygen, honey.”
“just tell me to shut up, y/n.”
“alright, shut up buck.” she forces out a little smile while slumped against the wall. audrey was their concern, but she seemed to be in the same condition and there was nothing they could do. “i’m getting tired, that’s bad, huh?”
“hey, no, you have to stay awake. we have to get out of here, everyone’s working on it, right?”
“there’s no way they gave up.”
after a few more minutes, feeling like lightyears, they hear several loud hits to the weakest parts of the door. they see something wedge the door, but it’s almost like the heat and stress of the room have closed out their senses to get up and check. with several buttons of their tops undone to try and cope with the heat, they stay still in their spots, losing more and more energy.
the door busts up, and the garage door is thrown up, dents on the outside from the smashing and banging. the vision of the couple fades as they see eddie and chimney walking toward them, helping them both stand up and carry them out. two more paramedics help audrey, removing her from the garage and placing her in an excellent ambulance.
everyone from 118 and even the cops on the scene watch with amazement as the pair comes out in almost full gear, decked with sweat and taking short, slow breaths.
“severe dehydration and heat exhaustion, get them in the ambulance and crank the air conditioning. get them fluids and oxygen masks now!” chimney leads people to each other and y/n and buck sit in their own ambulances.
the relief in their bodies takes a few minutes, but eventually, the moisture evaporates and their heads clear out of the smokey heat. y/n, placed with hen in the truck, asks, “is buck ok? he was really hot, hen. he was so hot in that garage and audrey! is she doing ok, she didn’t look too bad in there, she had fewer layers but still-“
“they’re all okay, y/n. you did well in there. that’s a pretty badass story, too, stuck in an oven basically.” y/n looks out the doors to the ambulance and sees the contained fire, no longer roaring at the garage doors and the ceiling.
“can i see ev?” was her last question. and work from eddie is the same thing happened in his aid car.
“audrey’s good right?” buck asks eddie, pulling the mask away from his mouth.
“she’s fine buck, just relax.”
“where’s y/n? she was sweating a lot in there, barely heard me in there, is she alright?”
being able to stand up strong enough, y/n sneaks her way over to buck. she steps up into the ambulance. “sup, eddie.”
“sup, lava girl.” he teases. “i’ll leave you guys, keep that mask on, buck, or i swear to god-“
“bye eddie!” buck waves to him, smiling and putting the mask back around his mouth.
“pretty bad day, huh?”
“no, not at all.” buck says, surprising y/n. “you were in there with me.”
y/n lets out a cheeky grin at buck and sits closer to him. “you know i love you right?”
“of course, i know that, we just got cooked like hot dogs in there together,” she laughs and he looks into her shining eyes and red face. “and i love you, and i really hope you know that.”
“oh i know,” she says, leaning in to land a light kiss on his lips. he leans more into the kiss as it transforms into a far more passionate one than intended.
“hey!” hen yells from outside. “i left you alone for one minute and you’re already making out where i did not leave you!”
“i’d say sorry but…”
“save it, does eddie know you’re in here too?”
“yeah? he was here when i came in.”
“oh, ok then. diaz!” hen yells and walks away.
“someone’s in trouble with mama hen.” buck jokes and he brings her in for another kiss. “i heard someone say i was pretty hot in there, you didn’t have to flatter me like that.”
y/n slaps his shoulder and chuckles at his sly comments about himself. “i guess you did look pretty hot, but not as hot as that garage, baby.” she caresses the side of his face.
“oh i know somewhere else that gets hotte-“
“buck!” eddie’s voice echoes through the street, looking at buck with his hands thrown in the air. “really? what did i tell you? mask!”
buck shakes his head and then eddie points at y/n. “and you! you made me get in trouble with hen.” he starts walking toward the two of them.
“ok, maybe i should leave for my own ambulance.” she pecks his lips again and skips out of his truck.
“dirty fools, you two.” buck shakes his head and eddie smirks at the two, admiring the relationship they have together.
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outlanderskin · 6 months
Text
The Thing About Rationality and Logic
Someone who was stopping shipping once told me that she was doing it because she was a very realistic and rational person and her life was based on logic. So I asked her if by that she meant that people like me live in fantasy or are irrational. So, I patiently explained that what made me a shipper was exactly logic, more than imagination or fantasy. Because the logical explanation for many events in S&C's trajectory would be that they are together, but they don't want the outside world to know that they are.
I'll cite some examples: when you have a best friend and someone in that person's family dies, what logically do you do? You see, we're talking about best friends, very close people who publicly say how much they value each other and are close. The logical thing would be for you to show solidarity, post condolences and behave publicly in a discreet manner, in solidarity with the loss of that person you love so much, especially because you (by logic) probably have known the deceased relative. The logic would be stay by your best friend's side, support the family. But what we saw in that sad august days, (showed ostensibly for us to believe) was something that no logical answer about "best friends/siblings" could explain. The only way to explain the narrative created in those days would be that they are two people with a cordial, but superficial, relationship and I believe that from what has been stated by the two all these years, not even the Antis deep down believe that they are not close. . Again I ask: what is the need to hide that you were supporting your best friend in an extremely painful moment in anyone's life? Many people (famous or not) do this publicly, because after all it is not a crime, it is the expected logical behavior. So... Why hide it? We know what really happened because this a logical thing, but the others believe firmly he was not there for her.
Let's move on to another point: the man of the year award (or something like that); How can you logically explain that you chose your mother, your best friend and your co-worker to thank, as the most important women in your life? You who apparently had many "girlfriends", who still gets along well with your discreet ex-girlfriend who lives on another continent, who has others close female friends, but didn't mention any of them along with your co-worker. I've seen several men receiving tributes and the Acknowledgments always include the mother, another older woman of reference and the wives, girlfriends, fiancées. The only time I saw a co-worker mentioned (and that was after his mother, grandmother and wife), was when the achievement was due to his work at the company, so it was logical to mention the department secretary. What would then be the logical explanation for that speech?
Something that also defies logic: if I have a best friend and that person is in a relationship, I will obviously include that person's boyfriend/girlfriend on my list of people with whom I am always cordial. I'm not going to publicly act like the person doesn't exist in my best friend's life. We have a wonderful example of how CD & LL treat each other's boyfriends/girlfriends and they don't hide it. This is how it is when we think logically.
Another little point where logic calls us: your male best friend might talk about a female artist with admiration...you don't need to tell him "behave", after all he's not your husband. The most you can do in the case of friendship is admire her or say you don't like her, never act like you're jealous.
Maybe it's just me, but I never went on my best friend's social media to complain because everyone in the photo was wearing a suit and he wasn't. I also never apologized or justified why he didn't wear a tie. I do this normally with my husband. Because it's logical for wives to do this.
These are just small points, where thinking logically justifies what we believe. So anyone who thinks that we are not rational, live outside of reality or do not have logical reasoning is mistaken, or has not yet stopped to think logically.🙃🙃
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billthedrake · 7 months
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I was inspired by the latest hot story by @maturedadsandmen. He gave me the blessing to write a riff on the premise. It started out as a prequel but became something else. Thanks to him for the inspiration and for the permission to let me adapt his idea.
WHAT HAPPENS IN FRANKFURT
"So, Trent..." I said as we settled into the business-class seats on the transatlantic leg of our flight. "Whadya have to promise Becky to get to come for a week?"
My friend and golf buddy shrugged. He's a big guy, 6'5", real muscular with a good deal of middle aged padding on his thick, ex-jock beef. Good thing I had scored the plush seats with my miles, because I couldn't imagine the poor guy squeezing into economy. Even now in his jeans and button-down shirt, the sight of him got me going. From the twinkle in his eyes, I could tell he was maybe feeling the same about me.
"It's not a week," he corrected.
"Pretty close," I smiled. We were flying to Frankfurt for the Chiefs-Dolphins game, but tacking on a few days in Bavaria for the typical guy-trip stuff. Beer halls and outdoors time. Stuff our wives had no interest in.
"I didn't have to promise Becky anything... what, is that something Heather expects?" he asked with genuine surprise.
I nodded. "Fuck yeah, that's something she expects," I said. "She's already planning the Napa wine trip."
Trent smiled. He had a personality that was laid back almost to the point of being taciturn, so I always found him especially handsome when he smiled.
Yeah, me and Trent have a thing. A sexual connection, an affair, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes we talk about it, sometimes we sweep the complications under the rug. But it had been a solid six months since our last time having sex and with the prospect of this trip together for six days, there was just this unspoken sexual tension between us. SOMETHING was gonna happen, all right.
"Didn't she just do that for one of her girls trips?" my friend chuckled.
Our wives got along OK but weren't close friends outside of my and Trent's bond. I was always surprised that Trent was able to keep up with my wife's doings.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Only she wants to go back with just me. You know, do something romantic. I don't even wanna know how much the cases of wine are gonna set me back."
That got a belly laugh out of my buddy. It was a running joke between us. He was the hunky ex-football player who ran his own construction company. I was the number-crunching corporate exec who admittedly had the MUCH deeper bisexual streak, to the point I carried around a lot of what-ifs in my middle age. But I was the one who was more bro-ish. Maybe I wasn't quite the sexist asshole I played up, but Trent gave me some real eye rolls from time to time.
"You can afford it, buddy," he chastised me. "And a lot fucking more."
I started to reply but he held up a finger in warning. "Don't you even pull that 'happy wife, happy life' BS." He was smirking.
"Dude... you gonna bust my balls this whole trip?"
I saw a naughty look sweep across my buddys masculine, handsome face as he leaned. "Whaddya think, Josh?"
I bit my lip and did as casual a crotch adjustment as I could. Trent had given me a full-on boner.
I knew Trent was chubbed too. It had been THAT long since we'd fooled around. Sometimes it was lack of opportunity, but my buddy likes to put the breaks on a lot. Probably for the best, since I had zero self-control, around him or in general. When I was 35 I had to vow never to go to Vegas again. This affair had a different kind of high stakes, but it felt like an extension of my addictive personality.
But my hunky buddy was pulling back now, putting in his earbud and pulling up his iPad to watch some shows he'd downloaded.
I had a book. Some stupid spy novel that let me get my mind off of work. Trent teased me for bringing the office with me, and on the first leg I'd caught up on a bunch of emails. I'd have more stuff to do in Germany, but I'd worry about that later. Trent told me I should set boundaries with my company, but hell it was my work travel that was getting us these business class seats and the hotel rooms on points and I'd probably cover the majority of our meals, too...
I took a breath and paused. I had this dickish thing where I'd enjoy treating people in my life - spoiling my wife or picking up the tab with my buddies - then I'd get resentful or controlling. I was lucky to have a travel buddy like Trent. Even if we didn't suck or fuck at all this next week. Though God knows I hope we did.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones and picked up my book.
****
"You gentlemen here for the game?" the concierge asked.
I'd booked us at a chain hotel in the old city. The guy at the desk was in the typical hotel uniform - vest and tie - and I was immediately attracted to him. Early 30s I'd guess, light brown hair, almost boyish in his handsome looks, though he had the kind of athletic build that comes with doing sports, maybe soccer, or rock climbing or something. I had a soft spot for German guys, I'll admit. They always seemed to have that boy next door thing going on, with a naughty side beneath.
Or maybe it was just the slightly clipped, more formal accent.
"Yes, sir," Trent said. "You got a lot of folks in town for it, I suppose." It was a trip to see my not-so-chatty buddy get all Midwest now that he was abroad.
I couldn't tell if the desk man was trying to humor us, but he replied back to Trent's small talk with a smile. "It seems so, yes."
I felt like I had to pull Trent away. He was asking for restaurant and bar recommendations, asking for the guy's first name, the whole works.
"What?" he asked, not quite annoyed as I shook my head in the elevator.
"Dude, you don't know how much I'm looking forward to a hot shower. Wash some of that jet lag off."
He seemed contrite. "You should have told me buddy. I honestly didn't think we'd get into the room early." It was nearly noon, but we were ahead of check-in time a little.
"I guess it'll be good to stretch the legs some this afternoon, get in some sun and fresh air?"
He nodded. "Looks like a nice day."
We rolled our luggage down to our rooms and entered the clean but soulless business hotel room.
"You go first," he said. "I'm gonna call Becky and let her know we're here." I knew from Trent's account that his wife was an early riser, a yoga devotee who got an early start on her day. I'd text Heather in a bit and call her later.
"Yep," I said, already pulling off my sweatshirt and kicking off my sneakers.
The shower felt good. No, it felt great. I could have stood under for much longer, but I didn't want to hold things up. I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and turned off the water. I was just as quick drying off and putting product in my hair. I took one look in the mirror. Not so bad for 46, I thought. I'd gotten into Crossfit lately and tried to eat clean, saving beer and junk food for game days or the nineteenth hole with the guys. I was shorter than Trent, 5'9" and some, even if I rounded up to 5'10" when I told people my height. Everything was looking pretty sculpted and hard and compact, and the thick blond fur on my torso was groomed and trimmed.
"You fucking narcissist," I thought. I wrapped the towel around my waist and opened the door, letting the steam out.
"Damn, that felt nice," I said to Trent. He was waiting for me, stripped down to his boxer briefs. It took me a second to realize what was in his hand, but it was a portable enema kit.
"I know you wanna hit the sights, buddy... but maybe I can clean out for you, first?" he asked. An excited glint in his eye but also some embarrassment. It had taken some convincing to get my hunky friend to bottom for me and even more sweet talking to get him to do a deeper prep. But it turns out Trent loved getting his ass eaten out, and he knew I'd go at it more freely and fervently if he was squeaky clean.
"God yes," I said. "I guess vacation starts for real, huh?" I said. Already I was chubbing beneath the towel.
He nodded with a grin, clearly excited by how easily I got turned on.
I let him do his thing while I texted Heather and answered a couple of work emails. I set down my phone and took off my towel, hanging it up in the closet. I pulled down the sheets on one of the double beds. My dick wasn't hard at first but as I lay down naked, I thought of Trent's hunky ass and meaty body. I thought of the reception guy and what it would be like to watch him and Trent go at it before I came in and fucked that German stud hard and fast from behind.
I was rock hard now. I thought of picking my phone back up and scrolling through some porn but decided I'd enjoy the more purely mental excitement I was filling. Just enjoy the moment of being in a hotel room with my good buddy and sometimes fuck buddy. For a whole week. I shut my eyes and let my sexual fantasies visualize themselves.
"Dang," I heard, snapping my eyes open. Maybe I'd been dozing some, but apparently my prick wasn't. "I never get sick of seeing that cock of yours."
I'm not huge, but I'm big, and my endowment looks bigger on my frame. I smiled and spread my legs, showing my meat off to Trent.
"OK if I suck it first?" he said, stepping up. In the big mitt of his right hand he had a small bottle of lube, which he set on the night stand.
"When have I ever said no to that?" I asked.
"Bro," Trent retorted, "You're such an ass-man... you can have a one-track mind sometimes." I felt defensive and I was gonna say something, but Trent got on all fours and crawled toward me. He was such a big guy, tall and beefy, that it was never anything short of mind-blowing to see him in such a posture. Already his hand was on my quad muscle, rubbing it in a way that sent electricity right to my boner. "It's OK bud. It's a good look on you," he said in a hushed, sexy voice.
Then he leaned forward to get a closer look at my crotch. Inches away close, and I could feel his breath on my dong. Trent's brown eyes were on my dick, only flitting up to my face occasionally.
"What happens in Frankfurt, right?" he growled.
"Fuck yeah," I hissed. When I started up with my buddy, I just thought I was scratching that bisexual itch. And yeah it was naughty fun. Clearly I fantasized about other men, too. But I was coming face to face with the reality that no one turned me on so much or so effortlessly like my 52 year old friend.
His first licks were a get-reacquainted approach. It had been a while since he'd taken care of me. I sucked him too, and on a blue moon bottomed for the stud. But this is what we did the first time we fooled around, and it felt like our own private anniversary ritual.
"That's it, buddy," I hissed. Trent had that combo of not-quite-skilled and very enthusiastic that appealed to me more than I realized. Outside of my times with Trent, I'd only had dude sex a couple times behind Heather's back, and those guys were better cocksuckers. But not better, you know? They weren't Trent Grayson.
My buddy coughed some on my dick as he swallowed more. Not a gag, but a grunt that said he was fighting back that initial reflex. Instantly my fingers went to the back of his neck. "Easy, bro... you got this."
He did, too. After that initial shock, he was working more of me into his gullet, over and over, faster and faster.
"FUCK!" I gasped, my eyes wide as I watched my best bud deep throat me with silky steady mouth strokes. "Buddy... if you don't let up," I warned, my breath ragged. I normally wasn't this quick at the draw, but I hadn't gotten off the last couple of days. My balls were drawn up tight.
Trent spit me out, a satisfied smile on his face. He knew he'd done a great job.
"You been practicing?" I asked. "You haven't done THAT before," I said.
"I may have gotten a toy to work on," he admitted with a wink.
"Yeah?" I asked, my chest heaving in excitement. My dick was twitching in time with my heartbeat. "When was that, bud?"
Those brown eyes were hungry and playful and sexy as fuck. "When we booked this trip."
"And here I was worried I was gonna push up against some boundaries with you this week," I said.
Trent nodded and leaned up. He was excited all right, his medium-sized tool rock hard and wet at the tip. My buddy had a beefy build that was something shy of a dad bod, but he was real and muscled head to toe, and his size meant he carried the mid-section girth well. "You probably will," he answered honestly. "Hell, I know you well, Josh," he added.
"Yeah," I admitted. Chastised some. I was the one of us who got carried away. But this man was so incredible, body and soul.
Trent didn't seem too fazed. Or maybe the sexual heat was winning out. He turned to face away from me so I could see that broad back, that short hair cut with the gray fringe and the balding spot on top, that round daddy ass fitting a tall, athletic man.
That ass was backing up toward, the buns getting closer. Trent didn't shave down there, he somehow naturally had a smooth ass, except for deep in the crack.
"You gonna...?" I asked. Or started to ask. Already the big guy was leaning forward and spreading his legs, opening that crevice right up for my gaze. Softly furry with that neglected crinkled pucker in the center, freshly cleaned for me.
My hands were already on his butt doing the rest of the work to part the cheeks as I dove in.
"Oh god yes," Trent hissed. "I've been thinking about this... so much."
I licked softly at first. Giving some gentle kisses beween a more exploratory approach to his hole and trench. Then I gripped his ass more tightly and started drilling in. I couldn't even say I was an expert at rimming. I just loved it and went at it, hard. Slurping and sucking. Munching and tonguing. Alternating my moves in part because I just fricking loved it all.
Trent loved it too. I still think he had hang ups when it came to anal. I know I did. We were two men unwilling to relinquish what we considered the more masculine role. I'd probably put up with his misgivings this week, and he might try to break down my hesitation to bottom. We'd see. For now, though, it was clear that I was even more into eating out a male cunt than actual pussy, and Trent enjoyed the oral treatment to his hole.
Finally, I pulled back, practically growling into his spit wet trench. "Dude, I gotta be in you. Now."
I expected some pushback, but instead Trent was scrambling his big body. Moving forward and pivoting around. His prick was outright dripping now, a thin strand of clear sap swayed from his tip. I wondered how many days he'd held off from sex or jerking off.
Hurriedly he reached over and got some lube in his palm, eagerly reaching back behind. "Let me ride," he said. "It's been a while."
I nodded and rode out a deep couple of breaths while he lined my prick up to his wet buns and settled back on me.
The initial penetration stung some for him, but quickly he relaxed.
"That's nice," he muttered as he sank down a couple more inches. He got a grin on his face. "I love how hard you get, Josh."
"Jesus buddy," I hissed. I'd had to sweet talk him into barebacking a little over a year ago. Now, every time I entered him was pure bliss. Silky, warm, and drum-tight. "I'm like that everytime I'm with you."
"I know," Trent replied. "I fucking love it." He settled further back and my cock popped past the last bit of tightness. Suddenly, Trent was sitting all the way in my lap and his guts were gripping my boner in spasms.
"You good?" I asked with concern. But a little hesitant to ask, because this was all VERY good for me.
"Yep," he said. He reached down and wrapped his lubey fist around his hard on, smearing this own sap to add to the slickness. His initial strokes made his ass clench down tighter on me, then the self pleasuring helped his body relax into it.
Within a minute of settling down on me, Trent began to lift his burly body up off my dick a couple of inches, only to swivel back down.
This was the almost feminine part of our mating that Trent felt self conscious about. Working my bone with a slutty hip motion. But I'd told him that starting slower is much better for me, and it turned out to be better for Trent, letting him build up the stimulation of his prostate as we locked eyes.
Our fuck was silent now, other than the sloshy slick sounds where his ass connected to my dick and the soft bounce of the bed. Trent's a heavy man, in the mid 200s on the scale, and my dense muscle added to it, too.
I watched him get into it, watch the pleasure grow on his face. This is what surprised me with Trent. I thought sex with dudes was simply about getting my rocks off, but I loved giving this man pleasure. Giving him an orgasm. I was about to give him one now.
"You're getting close," he said in his deep gravely voice. Not a question. Trent could read it on my face, register my impending cum before I did.
"Oh yeah," I hissed. It was arriving fast now, that crest of pleasure, like an ocean swell that breaks right in front of you. My fingers gripped his hard quads, maybe a little too hard, just seconds before I felt his hot spray of semen jet onto my bare chest muscle. Then another, then another. All heavy wads of bleachy-floral seed raining onto me. I was pounding out a mammoth load from this beautiful man.
My own cock was firing now, matching Trent's in its heaviness. "Fuck!" I whimpered. Trent sometimes teased me for the way my voice would get higher pitched when I came. But our nearly simultaneous O meant we were synched in our lust and deep connection.
Finally Trent's hips slowed and he eased off. Some semen came out on the dismount but he clenched up to stop the rest as he plopped down on the spare side of the bed. The double mattress didn't hold out two big bodies easily, Trent's especially but he kind of snuggled up to me in an uncharacteristic intimacy and rested his face on my shoulder. Lazily his hands ran along my torso, smearing his own cum into my chest fur.
"You have an incredible body, Josh," he said.
My dick hadn't gone down. I was drained and not ready to fuck again or anything, but I was still pretty keyed up. I kissed his forehead. I didn't want to push the guy too far but figured he'd initiated this closeness. "Yeah?" I asked. I knew we enjoyed a physical chemistry, but Trent had never complimented me like this, even though I sometimes gushed over his body.
He ran his hand down my ripped abs. I didn't have the body of a 26 year old, but I kept my core tight and knotted.
"I've been afraid to tell you," he said.
"Really?" I asked. Trent didn't seem to be afraid of things.
"You can get a little conceited," he said, brusquely.
This was the Trent-and-Josh thing. Teasing each other. Humble guy and the corporate exec. But something about his words seemed to cut deeper. "I don't know what to say," I said softly.
He patted my stomach. "You're you, Josh. I understand ya, buddy. And I know I'm not easy to get along with." His hand drifted lower and wrapped around my cock, which was still rigid as just a minute earlier. "In all fairness, you have good reason to be conceited."
I wanted to kiss this guy, so bad, but that was against our bro code. "If I get to be too much, buddy..." I started. "Well, I just don't want this week to be weird."
Trent looked up. "It's not gonna be weird, Josh. Football... beer... hot steamy hotel sex... what more can you want?"
"Nothing, man," I growled. I enjoyed the soft touch of his hand as he explored my dick. Finally with a sigh, I spoke up, "I will absolutely fall asleep if we keep lying here... maybe get out for a bit?"
Trent didn't answer but just scooted away from our tight embrace, edging his big tall body off the bed. I watched him walk to the bathroom to clean off.
Somehow, the spell had been broken.
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fadingdaggerr · 1 year
Text
from miles away
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: melissa’s ex husband pays you a visit after you move in
warnings: joe, protective r, a couple gross innuendos, author is a proud man hater and it shows
translation: sfigato means loser
note: haven’t written for melissa before but i had the idea for the argument for something else and thought i’d try something new. let me know how y’all feel about this and if you’d like more melissa stuff or not :)
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three years ago, she would cover your eyes when you came over for dinner, now you’re here. for the last five months, you’d woken up every morning morning with melissa laying across your back as she lightly snored in your ear. her light breath passing over the shell of your ear, mixed with the smell of her honey shampoo, it was almost enough to lull you back to sleep every time.
getting dressed was more about watching melissa while you tried not to drool. getting ready was more staring at her while she applied her lipstick, her taunting you with winks in the mirror when she caught you. leaving always consisted of you running ahead of her to open the car door, kissing her knuckles as she sat down. mornings were precious with melissa schemmenti.
smack… smack… smacksmacksmack. thunk.
you heard melissa snicker behind you as she watched you fight the vending machine for a kitkat stuck on the edge of a bag of doritos. you playfully glared back as you dropped more quarters in to get her raspberry iced tea. she’s lucky she’s cute.
you offer the iced tea to her with a sweet smile, but pull it out of her reach at the last second, “making fun of me, schemmenti?”
“i wouldn’t dream of it,” she answers with fluttering lashes and a pitched voice, loving the laugh it drew out from you. she extends her hand, speaking normally, “now hand it over, hot stuff.”
lunch was the best period of the day. no students for half an hour, and then for another half hour when fourth graders went to gym. pure peace for the whole hour. granted, half of that got to spent admiring melissa from across the table instead of listening to anything anyone says.
your eyes drink in the site of her with a ponytail, bangs pushed back by her glasses, and wearing your sweater, the very one she had given back to you two weeks ago because it ‘didn’t smell like you anymore.’ barbara side-eyed you with a chuckle, simply amused by the adoration for her best friend that was practically seeping from your pores. the heart-eyes directed melissa’s way were rudely interrupted by the phone behind the coffee maker ringing.
teacher lee reaches for it first before stretching an arm out to you, “front desk for you.”
never once has someone shown up in the middle of the day for you. you grab the phone from lee, “hello?”
“it’s ahmed. i got a guy up here saying he wants to talk to you about his wife,” he speaks quietly and unsure into the phone.
you’re silent for a second, scanning the room before saying quickly, “conference room two, i’ll be there in a minute.”
hanging up the phone, you gather yourself together. melissa and barbara stare at you for a second, then look at each other. you think quickly to avoid a certain someone from following you.
“got a parent up front, i guess. i’ll see you in a bit,” you don’t spare a glance to melissa before nearly running out the door. please be anyone else, please be literally anyone else.
you pass ahmed, only asking him, “he got a green cap on?”
“yeah, why?” he asks without looking up from his phone.
“mental preparation.”
melissa stared at the door for a moment before looking at barbara with nothing but confusion on her face, “what kind of parent stops by in the middle of the day?”
barbara shrugs, “maybe one of the parents works at the hospital, they have got schedules going each and every direction.”
melissa hummed in agreement, but still was weary about your departure. she leaves the lounge early to ‘touch up her makeup,’ and heads towards conference room two. three equally curious ducklings, janine, jacob, and barbara, follow behind her.
two familiar voices argue on the other side of the door, and melissa is frozen in place listening for a moment. she opens the door quietly, seeing you shove her ex-husband back before getting in his face.
the conference room door felt as if it weighed ten thousand pounds, your muscles tensing as you stepped in. closing the door behind you, you crossed your arms and spoke.
“what do you want, joe?”
“annette mentioned something about you moving into my house,” he stated with a disgruntled tone.
you sharply exhale through your nose, “it’s not your house. and that doesn’t answer my question. why are you here?”
“you’re living in my house,” he says again.
you exhale with annoyance, “your name isn’t on the deed anymore and you don’t pay for it. you haven’t since before you two got divorced. it’s melissa’s house, not yours.”
he stepped forward in attempts to intimidate you, “i want you out of my house and away from my wife.”
“what wife?” you retort quickly, “surely you don’t mean melissa? she divorced you, if you remember correctly.”
he stepped even closer, only about a foot of room between you, “god you two deserve each other. you’re just as arrogant, and she’s just as stupid,” his finger poked into your shoulder, “let me give you a little advice on handling that cu-”
red.
your palm goes to his own shoulder and shoved him back, “speak about her like that again and i promise they’ll never find you,” deep breath in, deep breath out, “and don’t touch me, ever. or give me your advice or anything else, as a matter of fact.” getting into joe’s face, you continue, “i don’t need to ‘handle’ melissa,” you exaggerate the quotations marks around his wording, “you and i both know, very fucking well, that she can handle herself perfectly fine.”
joe doesn’t back down, so you continue, “and why would i advice from you? she. left. you. why would i want advice from the man who fumbled that hard,” you’re nearly laughing in his face at this point, “but if i want advice on how to become greatly acquainted with my own hand, i’ll give you a shout.”
“you’re a disgusting bitch,” he seethes.
“all that and more,” you say walking towards the door, “you can walk down this hall and walk out the front doors,” you gesture with your thumb, “i’m sure there’s a bathroom stall wall with a nice, comfy hole in it just calling your name.”
joe’s front crumples with the last of your words, anger and defeat written across his face in permanent marker. you obnoxiously wave at him as he leaves, muttering under his breath as he stares at his feet. you hear ahmed laughing to himself, before looking at him, “not a word ahmed. not. one. word.”
“dude…” he laughs, “should i put him on the no-entry list?”
you shrug, “if he comes back, call me, no matter who he asks for. only call me.”
“aye-aye captain. i’m not messing with you, not even a little bit,” ahmed jokes as you walk back to the lounge.
melissa was standing wide-eyed in the hall. she was taken back by every part of the conversation she’d heard. she’d never seen you that angry, and come to think of it. she’d seen you upset, annoyed, even pissed. she still recalls the violent yell of ‘WHAT?!’ when you watched the game of thrones finale together, she swears it echoes in the living room still. but she had never seen you speak with such pure anger and hatred.
“melissa…” barbara cautiously starts.
“later. very later,” melissa replies, still collecting her thoughts.
when they heard your voice in the hallway, the group quickly made their way back to the lounge. melissa and barbara pretend to look interested in their phones, not looking at you as you came in. janine and jacob were sitting looking at each other, both nearly in shock over what they had heard you say. you’d never said anything that grotesque in the three years they’d been at abbott, but damn.
taking your spot across from melissa, and instead of resuming your not-so-subtle staring, you stare at the table. a few minutes go by before you feel someone’s foot tap against yours. you look up from the table to see melissa staring at you, nodding towards to door, a silent request to talk.
with a short nod, you get up and start to walk towards your classroom, melissa follows after she packs up her things.
you hear her heels click against the tile floors of the classroom and just say, “eavesdropping isn’t very polite, mel.”
“so is not telling me joe was here,” she replies. she’s right, and you know she is. you knew it was him, or at least you were pretty sure.
“he asked to speak to me,” you lean against your desk and grab her hand, “and it was just some sad uber-masculine way to try and intimidate me.” you play with her rings as your explanation quickly turns into a rant, “but he insulted you, melissa. to my face! he can say whatever he wants about me, i don’t care. but you? you? no way in h- why are you smiling?”
she yanks your arm and pulls you into a hug before speaking, “you threatened to kill that sfigato all because he called me a bitch?”
you shake your head the best you can with her vice grip around your neck, “not a bitch, worse. and he kept saying it’s his house and you’re his wife, like he doesn’t live above that gyro spot, lonely and alone.”
you feel melissa’s laughter more than you hear it, and it makes your arms tighten around her waist once more before letting her go. she’s so lovely, simply lovely. how anyone could let her go was beyond your comprehension. you’re just thankful that she trusts you, enough to let you befriend her, and then enough to love her completely.
“you don’t need to protect me. i’ve got four bats hidden around the house and two in the car. and one under my desk,” you watch her count again in her head, “and the one in your car.”
“i know you don’t need me to,” you fix the chains of her necklaces as you continue, “but i love you, and that means i’m sticking up for you, no matter what, no matter who.”
melissa is nearly certain that if you two weren’t at school, she’d be a puddle of tears. the gentle fixing of her necklaces, your soft voice and oh-so-sweet words, she just wanted to kiss your face all over. workplace rules have her settle for a lingering kiss to your cheek, i love you too mumbled into your skin.
you cupped her cheek, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. in the most loving tone you say to her, “if he shows up again i’m gonna use the damn car bat on him.”
melissa laughs heartily, “maybe he’ll just find the hole in stall wall and get too busy to come back.”
a mix of a groan and laugh leaves you, you’d entirely forgotten your earlier words. melissa stays in the classroom until the end of lunch bell rings, before she quickly kisses you goodbye.
you watch her walk away, then watch her run back in, “how did he find out you moved in?”
“i don’t know how, all i know is annette had something to do with it,” you answer with a little shrug.
you see her face immediately go into planning mode for what to say to annette when she inevitably chews her out. she spins to leave your classroom for real this time, but just as she’s about to head out the door, you pull her back in and press another kiss to her lips, for good measure.
feedback appreciated as always <3
title is from passionfruit by drake
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