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yinses · 3 years

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nanami kento ft. f! reader + lots of praise + soft dom nana + fingering + semi clothed sex + domestic au

rating: 18+ wc: 2.2k a/n: inspired by this fanart that sister yulia blessed me with. nanami supremacy for all.

you take notice in the shift the moment he crosses the threshold. hair tousled and tie askew is nothing new to expect from your husband after a long day at work. he takes his job seriously and his goal to provide even more so, often sacrificing extra hours just to provide for more than what you ask.

he strived for a life of comfort, he’d told you before marriage. it was something he worked hard for prior to you and only doubled his efforts to ensure that future after putting a ring on your finger.

it wore down on him, adding maturity lines earlier than they should present themselves and taking away years he needed to give back to himself. but nanami kento was a man of consistency, even when those boundaries started to fracture.

you could feel the splinters echoing beyond the slam of the door closing shut from the kick of his heel. it rattles straight to your core as you stand there, held hostage by the stormy pools of blue staring down at you. his day had likely been another one of agitation piled on top of another. surely a cup of tea before dinner would help soothe the cracks of frustration.

though neither your lips could form the words nor could your feet cross the distance it took to move in any direction.

this plight was not a fault of your husband who stepped confidently in your direction, a single finger coming up to remove his tie all together.

“is dinner on the stove?”

your mind blanked at the question, frazzled at the sight of him handling his cuffs with practiced care as he set one gifted metal piece aside one after the other. you had a plan set in motion from the moment he kissed your forehead in departure that morning, but everything beyond that suddenly felt trapped.

lips stumbled over answers and your cheeks warmed at the foolish display. what had swept into your household to shift the mood so?

nanami appeared otherwise unaffected as he finished rolling up the last sleeve. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, capturing your fraying attention as he looks around you towards the kitchen. you think you see his nose twitch once before his gaze falls back down.

“i don’t smell anything burning.” his intentions are becoming increasingly clear as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, a single thumb swiping at the fullness of your lips before pressing against the corner. without a second thought, you part them.

it provides a catalyst that gets you pressed against the nearest wall with one wrist pinned near the frame displaying your wedding day.

when his lips lower, you crane your neck in response only to have them stop just short of a whisper. his breath ghosts a trail down the exposed column of your throat, nose edge the line of your jaw. you swear you feel him smile against the shiver of anticipation rattling your form.

“i would like to fuck you in this hallway, if that’s alright, darling?” the thumb still trapped between your teeth, presses down against your tongue as if to prompt an answer yet he doesn’t pause for one.

“i’ve already put in a request for the cleaners to come and groom the rug tomorrow so you’ll need not to worry about that.”

your toes curl against the fine woven carpet at your feet, nerves tingling at the premeditated situation that you’ve found yourself in. your husband, who was now suckling soft blooms under your chin, had taken time out of his day to schedule a clean up for the mess he planned to make out of you. the idea made your knees go weak.

nanami chuckled knowingly as he caught your descent with the sharp line of his hips. “i imagine that’s agreeable with you, wife?”

the hasty nod of your head dislodges his finger, but he’s quick to replace it with his lips. the kiss is all consuming as his tongue slips between the seam, allowing you to taste the moan from his lips.

you may as well have had the script, dressed perfectly for the role as his knee nudges between your thigh and ride up the edge of your summer dress. he tells you all the time that you don’t need to try, that you look pretty in anything. but you like to go the extra mile. painting your lips a nice shade at home just to smear it in the passion of his kisses.

you know he appreciates it too. an inviting contrast to the mundane office view at work.

the same hand falls from the cut of your jaw to drag the hem of your dress up the ascent of your thigh. you’re more proud than embarrassed when his fingers tap against the tacky wet spot at the front of your panties.

his tongue clicks against the top of his mouth, “played with yourself while i was away again?” a firm swipe up followed by a press inward has you keening. “or did you just miss me this much?”

“yes.”

it’s both an answer and a cry for attention. a meaningless wail that meets no need of a man who would fracture the world to build you one better.

“my pretty little angel, it must be so hard when i’m away.”

he follows the panty line, teasing the sensitive skin there. the rumbling laugh you receive when your hips jerk in response makes your heart flutter. you’re still riding the tremors of your excitement when he nudges aside the lace of your panties to push a finger inside.

the intrusion meets minimal resistance as he slides from the first knuckle to the next. he still takes it as slow as your initial night, pumping in and out with care before adding a second. all the while, he peppers your face with kisses and words of adoration. nanami moves his thumb to flick over your nub before pressing down hard until you cry out.

pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, mine, are all formations of adoration that he mutters against your skin while he unravels you thread by thread.

“take it, darling, i’ll give you another.”

he utters a low curse at the sharp keening sound, enthralled by how your body trembled as he worked his fingers deeper. nanami lowered his head back to the junction of your shoulder, where he flicked his tongue against the feverish skin. your high whines and small gasps encouraged him to pick up the pace, hips rocking against yours with the precipice of something more, yet he ignored the growing discomfort in his pants to focus all the different ways your mouth formed his name.

his teeth mark your skin, where they tenderly nipped and sucked, leaving fresh marks while you twisted in his hold. you emit a shuddering cry, nails raking over his skin as your body pulls tight as a bow string. the shaky breath lining your lips forms a mantra of his name, over and over until the tremors ebb away. what remains are shaky legs that nearly slump over, caught by your husband as he follows you to the ground.

still floating down from your high, you could vaguely make out the sounds of nanami sucking off his fingers, removing them with lasciviously loud pops. when your gaze eventually focuses, you find him waiting with an eager, seductive smirk.

“ready for me then?”

swallowing a sharp inhale, you nod.

hands heading down to the zipper of his pants, nanami pulled it down and shrugged the material away to free his cock. one hand grabbing himself and the other reached for your left leg which he threw over his shoulder. you immediately try to grind down, slippery lips colliding with warm flesh.

“thought about you all day while i was at work.” nanami purrs breathily with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight before he would take you to heaven. “thinking about how you would feel around me and mad with pleasure.”

his hand reaches for yours, capturing the digits and bringing them to his lips. he takes his time, allowing his tongue to glide up and down your fingers before kissing your palm, murmuring heated words against them; “thought about our wedding night… those twisted sheets wrung dry”

you feel his hips roll once, probing slightly, before he jerks forward and grunts at the overflowing heat engulfing him. still reeling from your first, your body was pliant and gracious while he chased his. your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm your breathing while lips continued to release indecent moans.

his grip slides down to your wrists, pressing them above your head into the rug as he adjusted over you. there was an unmistakable provocative outline in his lust-darkened blue eyes. the blonde’s lips meshed intricate patterns against your cheeks, moving downward to capture your lips in a tight needy kiss that made nanami twitch even further.

it made his last strand of self-restraint snap before he met you stroke for stroke, grounding down on you deeply. your lips broke apart with a loud cry that milked with a following angled push as he snatched at your other leg to wrap around his waist. his movements were perfectly concise, designed to make you lose control with the potent effect of his affections.

picking up the pace when your high whines turned into full-blown moans, he inhaled sharply and choked out as coherently as he could,”together, darling, meet me there. i know you can.”

then he shifted on his knees slightly, that brought on a new change in the angle as he continued thrusting deeper, watching how your head thrashed from side to side and you repeatedly arched against him, trying to meet his every move. the delectable bead of sweat that ran down your throat was promptly licked up by the blonde as he sucked on your pulse.

his hands were ever so helpful in guiding your hips as he slowed down his speed to a torturous beat, rolling his hips in deeply to tease the edge. he knew where the peak was, hovering just at the horizon as he marched gradually up the hill. nanami was practiced in the art of getting you there, watching as your spine arched to accommodate is languid yet deep drives.

“ ‘m there, kenny-please”

it was silenced with on of his brain-numbing kisses again as he captured your lips. you could feel the slight curve of his mouth as he pulled out almost fully, making you slutter in the middle of your kiss.

“that’s it, “ he hissed, loving how you pant his name with each of his thrust, trying to manage coherency past how tightly you clenched around him. “we’re there baby. take me with you.”

nanami could feel himself losing control with your begging, fitfully aware you were going to tumble over the edge with him right behind. he abruptly accelerated his thrusts once more, bringing you to meet him sharply. each time he struck, he made sure that he prodded that spot that would drive you frenzied and wild, gazing in satisfaction as you squirmed harder under his skilled touches.

“c-come now, love.” he grunted, phishing past all bounds as he rammed into you repeatedly, losing himself to the sensation crawling up his skin. “do it. be good for me, princess.”

your head twisted and turned as your mouth hung open. vision getting lost in the blinding white. body growing weaker. as if determined to break you entirely, his hand traveled down your navel to come between your joined bodies. expert fingers quickly found you clit as he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing you to let go of everything as he whispered lewd thoughts into your ear.

“k-kenny!”

that was all the warning he had when your toes curled and he could feel your walls spasm around him. the flow of sensations ignited his nerves, left to surrender as you became impossible tighter around him, jerking him into his own release as well. a hiss was all he could manage as he slammed into you, shuddering through his climax.

the world exploded into a disarray of hues as he slumped forward, bracing a single arm above your figure while he panted heavily through euphoria.

“bad day at work?” you manage to get out.

he grunts at first, a small sound of misunderstanding before the mutual foggy haze lifts to prompt clarity. a breathy chuckle leaves him.

“never a bad day with you in my life. just missed you is all.” his words are slightly slurred, much unlike your husband but very a keen to a man on the verge of undeniable sleep.

dinner could wait.

“why don’t we take an early evening nap and have dinner in bed later?”

who could deny that?

you get a slow kiss of affirmation in return.

#nanami kento x reader #Nanami x Reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami sins

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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Todd 😺

okay so this is a hatched plot from £ anon in our whispers in the dms. ✨Todd redemption arc✨ finally. I'm sorry this is kind of short and lame. i just needed a fluff-ish break

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋. | 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x reader

warnings: language, Todd, mentions of h3dg3 fund$, filler moment but i hope you guys enjoy!

song recommendation: Sweater by Spencer Sutherland (bc we agreed it was a Todd anthem)

“Todd’s going through it.”

Karl had warned you ahead of time but while you sat on the frat’s back deck watching a handful of them playing croquet, you wondered just what he was going through. He seemed normal enough, greeting you with a snide comment about sneaking off to the pool with him later. The only noticeable difference in his attitude was usually when someone talked back to him.

Before Todd had never backed down from a witty sparring match with one of the guys, especially Karl, but as they teased him now, he just nodded his head and remained quiet for a few moments until the subject changed.

Apparently, his childhood sweetheart sent him a wedding invitation in the mail and the way he reacted was the equivalent of a soldier receiving a Dear John letter. To lighten his mood, you had even volunteered to be his plus one---which Karl begrudgingly agreed to.

You pulled your feet up on one of the steps, eyes focused on Karl as he lined up his mallet and knocked his blue ball into Todd’s, sending the red ball through the last hoop. You knew he did it on purpose as he shrugged. “Looks like you win again. Isn’t this fun?” He stated, forking over another twenty-dollar bill as Todd leaned on his mallet. There was a chorus of supportive agreements that came from the other guys. It was odd for you to see Karl trying to cheer up anyone that wasn’t you, let alone Todd.

Todd nodded, seemingly caught up in a wild thought as Karl punched his arm. “Hey, Romney,” you called, making Todd look up at you. It was almost humorous to see Karl’s tattooed and pierced persona standing beside Todd, who resembled a Great Clips ad. You wanted to smile at the purple nail polish beginning to chip off from his visit where you met his parents. Just because Mrs. Jacobs didn’t like the dark colors, didn’t mean he couldn’t paint his nails with her favorite instead. “I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and I couldn’t for the life of me remember what a hedge fund was… Could you explain it to me again like you did at that party?”

He wet his lips, a small tilt to his head that made you want to roll your eyes. In reality, you had sat through his spiel about the stock market and everything adjacent at least four times, each one taking more than half an hour.

But you needed the little freak to get back to normal so you could finally have Karl back.

Todd swung his mallet to rest on his shoulder. “Okay, so a hedge fund is a huge pool of money and assets that…” you zoned out as he continued, talking with his hands as you nodded attentively. Karl bit back a smug grin, his expression serving as a promise to reward you later. “... Basically like if they sell a big chunk of stock then all their little investor buddies and businesses will also sell. They’re like cult followers. And you know what that means-”

You jumped slightly at the thud beside you, looking down to find a black and white cat with a missing tail that had hopped off of the deck railing to sit beside you. You snorted, scratching his head as Todd stopped talking. “Don’t touch it!” Karl yelped, making you freeze and snap your eyes to him. You relaxed when you remembered he was (ironically) a germaphobe.

“Oh my goodness,” Todd fawned, walking over to you and scooping it into his arms. The cat purred heavily, nuzzling itself against Todd’s neck. You stood up, brushing your pants off as Karl pulled you a step away from the cat and Todd. “I love him. I’m calling him Daniel.”

“Daniel?”

Todd held the cat, now named Daniel, out to Karl. “He’s very cute. Please don’t make me touch him right now,” Karl muttered, hand holding onto your wrist.

You slipped out of Karl’s hold, earning protests to him as you pet the cat's head causing it to lean into your touch as Todd melted. “I wonder if he’s had his shots,” you murmured, Todd nodding as the both of you looked at it.

Karl’s face twisted into pained support, acting like if the cat went anywhere near him, he was sure to die. Todd chatted about taking him to the vet and so on, more to himself and the other frat members that had come to check out Daniel. As you moved to stand beside Karl, he avoided touching you, making you giggle. “Come here, baby! Let me kiss you,” you joshed, making grabby hands at him as he bent out of arm’s reach.

He wheezed. “For the love of God, wash your rabies hands.”

You scoffed, letting your voice drop into a whisper to mask wanting to laugh at him. “So you can spit on me but I touch an outdoor cat and you’re scared of cooties?”

Karl looked at you with scolding eyes. “Sweetheart, we’re not homeless cats. You’re clean. I’m clean,” he justified, sending you a tight-lipped smile as his eyes watched your movements carefully.

A week later, Karl’s arms were folded over you, face pressed against your shoulder blade as he snoozed lightly, legs tangled with yours. You scrolled through your phone, knitting your fingers with one of his.

A small knock at his door made Karl grumble out some kind of acknowledgment against your shirt. Todd peeked in, Daniel on his hip and a juice box in his hand. You raised your eyebrows at him as he peered around you to check on Karl’s state. “Daniel and I are going to the park, I was going to extend the offer,” he whispered.

“Yeah, let me put on my shoes,” you whispered back. He nodded, turning on his heel as he shut the door behind him.

I'm not tagging this one because it doesn't really have substance BUT if you would like to be tagged in future works, the link is at the top of my masterlist :)

#edgy!karl jacobs #edgy!karl #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs fluff #mcyt imagine #karl jacobs imagine #also im basing daniel off of the cat that lives in my barn #we call him meatsnack tbh #cult of todd #daniel the cat

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

sugar sugar - the planning 4.0

Summary: The two of them are coming back from their bachelor/bachelorette parties

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Sex, blowjob, squirting

Wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Their wedding is coming closer!

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter //

April 3rd 1 a.m.

This night seemed never ending, but it was kinda funny nonetheless. Seeing Genevieve live out her Magic Mike fantasy, made me turn into the Regina George’s mom of Mean Girls and film her as two attractive oiled up men were grinding up against her, while Viola kept screeching out of sheer awkwardness.

With a smile on my face, I walk into the apartment, only to discover an absolutely parched Henry on the couch. He takes a sip out of a water bottle, which is a rare sight. When he is drained like this, he usually needs a whiskey to feel better. ‘What happened to you?’ I ask, causing him to look up.

‘They pulled me into a strip club,’ Henry answers, his eyes tired and followed by a deep sigh.

They as in Greg, Noah, Gino and Peter. This must’ve been Genevieve planning the entire thing. ‘Me too,’ I chuckle. ‘Just so you know, your bare ass has my preference.’ I kick off my heels and straddle his thick thighs, before wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘You look like you’ve seen multiple ghosts over the course of the night. It couldn’t possibly be that terrible.’

Henry starts to laugh. ‘It was. I don’t think I have ever been this uncomfortable. I absolutely despised that place.’

‘Why?’ I ask him, undoing his tie a bit.

‘I had no idea they would take me there,’ he says. ‘And don’t get me wrong, those women were beautiful and good at their job, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you. It felt like borderline cheating to me.’

I don’t think I ever have to worry about Henry being unfaithful to me. Such a sweetheart. He continues to talk about the perverted types sitting there and how one guy even started to help himself a little, but because he is so busy talking, he barely notices I’m unbuttoning the top of his shirt, before taking off my thin cardigan, revealing only a light blue crop top.

Only when he finally manages to tear his gaze from the ceiling, he stops talking. ‘Oh,’ he says, leaning forward to press a kiss on my cheek. ‘This I like.’

‘I knew it,’ I say. ‘I’m the only one you want.’

‘Of course,’ he scoffs. ‘Why on earth would I want someone else?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Just be honest with me. Didn’t it turn you on even a little? I mean, you told me yourself they were beautiful.’

‘Yeah, they were, but they didn’t turn me on,’ he says. ‘I mean, years ago it maybe would’ve, but now, you are the only one that can turn me on. Nobody and nothing beats your body, your kisses and your whimpers.’ He kisses my lips. ‘I love you and only you.’

‘Hm,’ I say with a smile. ‘I am probably the luckiest woman on the planet. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you were turned on a little.’

‘Were you?’

I shake my head. ‘Oh no, I barely had time for that. I mean, besides filming Genevieve having the time of her life, I just admired certain dance moves. Damn, do those men know how to move those hips.’ I run my fingers through his hair. ‘And I know I said it before, but I’ll say it again: your ass is my absolute favorite and I prefer your hairy chest over those smooth oiled up ones I saw there.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Good thing your body is my favorite as well. No one can meet up to the standards you set.’

‘You’re so cute,’ I say to him with a chuckle. ‘Especially because you’ve spend an entire night at a strip club and now is the time where you grow a little excited.’

‘Teasing me, baby girl?’ he chuckles darkly, giving me a long kiss.

‘Maybe a little, it’s just that it’s the best way for you to give me a compliment.’ I step off his lap, before I unzip his fly. ‘Just relax, okay?’

‘Oh, sweetheart, I’m already relaxed,’ he says.

I sit on my knees in front of the couch, before I pull down his pants. He leans back, after he holds my hairs in his hand. I let my tongue run over his tip and he groans softly. The grip on my hair tightens and I look up, meeting his eyes, his teeth sunk in his bottom lip.

Deciding I’m not gonna tease him too long (he has had a long night), I slowly take more and more of him in my mouth. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, but thanks to the many secret blowjobs underneath his desk, my gag reflex is becoming less of a reflex now. He softly forces me down a little further and I let out a moan. The vibrations cause him to buck up his hips, leaving me to slightly gag on him.

‘Oh, shit baby, I’m sorry,’ he says.

I look up, drool dripping down my chin. ‘It’s okay, honey.’

‘Oh, it’s honey now?’ he asks cocking his eyebrow. ‘We’re not in public, so you better call me something else.’

I smile. ‘I’m sorry, daddy.’ My thighs are pushed against each other, as the heat gathers in my thong. Hearing him like this, feeling him bucking up his hips and the slight pulling on my hair. It does things to me.

When I release him with a pop, he softly pulls me up by my hair, before he presses a sloppy kiss on my lips. ‘Take off your clothes, baby girl,’ he says.

I quickly shred myself from the blue crop top that didn’t need a bra and the matching short. When my thong hits the floor, Henry grabs me by my waist, squeezing the soft flesh. ‘I love you,’ he whispers. ‘In around three weeks we’re married and you’re officially my wife.’

I can’t stop my faint blush. ‘We’re gonna get married,’ I say. ‘I can’t wait.’

He hoists me up and says: ‘Me neither.’ I expect him to take this to the bedroom, but he is too damn impatient, because he bends me over the back of the couch. Without a lot of preparation, he slides deep inside of me.

I try to gain some sort of stance, but my toes are barely touching the floor. He tightly grabs onto my hips. I push the palms of my hands in the cushions of the couch to hold myself up, as Henry rams himself roughly back inside of me. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning out loud, but it earns me a harsh slap on my butt.

‘I need to hear you, baby girl,’ he grunts.

A strangled moan leaves my lips, before it’s followed by many loud moans that fill the living room. ‘Daddy, I’m close,’ I whine and I really wished I hadn’t said that, because he pulls out, leaving me nearly begging for more.

‘I know you’re gonna make a mess,’ he says, ‘since you always do so.’ He pulls me up and smiles. ‘We don’t want to ruin the couch, right?’

I shake my head. ‘No, we don’t.’

He carries me to the kitchen counter, placing me on the cold granite. He buries his member into my throbbing center, holding my chin in between his fingers. ‘So fucking beautiful,’ he mumbles. His thumb runs over my bottom lip, before he pulls me in a deep kiss. I open my mouth, our tongues so familiar with one another.

As his tip kisses my cervix every single time he thrusts in, it nearly forces a whiney moan out of me. He always goes deep, but it’s different this time. It feels so so different. ‘Daddy, you’re so deep.’

He smiles. ‘I know that, baby girl. You like that, don’t you?’

I nod, feeling myself flutter around him. ‘Can I cum?’ I ask, digging my nails in his shoulders.

‘Of course, baby.’

I throw my head back, as I squirt around him, indeed making such a mess. He knows me too well. As I ride out my high, Henry buries his face in my neck, sucking on the delicate skin there. I cry out, sensitivity taking over and my nails marking his back. He grunts as he paints my velvet walls from the inside, his fingers tips digging deep in my legs.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whimper, as insecurity takes over. ‘Daddy, I’m so sorry.’

‘What’s wrong, baby?’ he asks. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I made such a mess.’ My legs are sticky, I know his legs are too and let’s just not say anything about the walls of the kitchen island.

‘Have I ever complained about that before?’ Henry asks with a cocked eyebrow.

I shake my head. ‘No.’

He cradles my face in his hands and whispers: ‘Then don’t you worry about it, okay?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I chuckle nervously. ‘I’ll try.’

Henry cocks his head, taking in every feature of my face. ‘Something’s bothering you?’ he asks me.

Maybe a little. ‘Not necessarily,’ I whisper.

‘You want to talk about it?’

I bite my lip. ‘It’s stupid.’

‘You could never say something stupid,’ he says. ‘How about a bath?’

‘Sounds good.’

✤ ✤ ✤

With my back against Henry’s chest, I stare at the ceiling in the bathroom. We’re engulfed in warm water and he finally asks: ‘So, what’s going inside your head, baby girl?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘the other day it kinda hit me that… When you and I get married, there is a possibility for a divorce. You can exchange me for anyone you want.’

He wraps his arms around my upper body, pulling me closer to him. ‘And why would I do that?’

‘I don’t know. An opportunity?’

He gives me a kiss on top of my head. ‘I love you and only you, mrs Becky Cavill. I am not spending a lot of money on a wedding I know will fail. Heck, I wouldn’t even proposed to you if I wasn’t this serious about you.’

I sigh deeply, realizing worrying about this was absolutely nonsense. ‘I don’t even know what I was worried about.’

‘Just tell me these things, okay?’ Henry says. ‘I wanna be there for you.’

‘I promise,’ I say with a smile. ‘I promise.’

April 24th 9 p.m.

Tomorrow we’re getting married and these last few weeks have been kinda hectic. My dad is officially divorced, lives in a lovely house downtown and has yet to decorate his place, but with the wedding coming up and him actively wanting to help out, that just has to wait.

Genevieve and Viola never met my parents, but they are sure as hell absolutely mad about my dad. They continue to call him: ‘cute as a button’ and I almost feel like he is our dad, instead of just mine. Without the wedding band and my mom next to him, I realize that my dad is actually such a nice guy. We get along really well and he is dead set on improving our relationship, just like I am.

While I did suggest he’d walk me down the aisle, he found himself not worthy of it and though I told him he was, I still respect that decision.

We’re at our destination for our wedding. We chose Maui, Hawaii for a few reasons. One, the weather is great and two, my friends, Henry’s friends and my dad are gonna stay for a little vacation there, while Henry and I go to our private island to start our honeymoon.

I honestly couldn’t be more excited. Henry and I took all sorts of measurements, checking the venue, seeing if everything is alright and then, tomorrow: we’re gonna be husband and wife.

Henry has been reading his vows for at least fifteen minutes now, when he finally folds the paper and places it on the book that we’re taking with us tomorrow.

Leave it to Henry to book the most expensive room in the entire hotel, with a view to die for. My dad had his eyes on a little place, one he had been eyeing for so long. Henry arranged it for him, even making sure he had access to the pool and a taxi.

‘Baby,’ he whispers, when he wraps his arms around my waist. ‘How about a little love making? Last time before we’re husband and wife.’

‘Henry, we had sex today,’ I chuckle. ‘Aren’t you ever tired of me?’

‘No, never.’

I turn around in his arms and say: ‘I’d like to be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow.’

‘That’s why I said a little love making.’

‘How about you and I enjoy the jacuzzi?’ I suggest. ‘I’ll be naked.’

Within ten minutes we’re all set and done in the jacuzzi and I straddle his lap, before taking a sip of my wine. ‘So, when you and I are back from our honeymoon, what do you want to do?’ I ask.

‘I want to travel to some places with you,’ he says. ‘Go look for a new place for the two of us to live in. Get you pregnant.’

I snort. ‘Oh, how romantic.’

‘What?’ He starts to laugh. ‘I mean, it’s the goal eventually right?’

‘We could adopt a dog from the shelter,’ I say, ‘get a little practice in. I mean, a dog and a baby are not comparable, but still.’

‘I’d love that.’ He pulls me closer to him and gives me a kiss. ‘I’m just gonna say it now, but expect to hear this many many times. I can’t wait for you to be pregnant.’

I smile. ‘And why is that?’ I ask him. ‘So I’m even more helpless and you have to do more for me?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, because we made a baby together and are gonna have a family of our own. I mean, how amazing is it that we’re gonna be the Cavills, right?’

I squeal. ‘Oh my, that is so amazing. I cannot wait for that to happen either. I’m tempted to quit my birth control right now.’

‘What is stopping you?’

‘Well, I want to have a little bit more childless time with you,’ I say. ‘Just you and me, traveling the world.’

‘Sounds good, baby girl.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #henry cavill x becky kim #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #asian ofc #becky kim

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

Text

Our Little Family

Summary: You and Riley start your forever.

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff

Reader: Female Plus Sized Human Cullen Reader

Pairings: Riley Bier x Plus Sized Reader

Word Count: 2,749

A/n: Enjoy! @fyeahtaylorp

Masterlist - Part One (So Much More - Gender Neutral) - Part Two (Yours Forever - Female Reader)

“This place is all yours?” Riley asks following you into the very large house on a secluded part of the beach in California. You grin turning toward him.

“Yep,” You nodded, watching him take in the gorgeous house. He whistles lowly. “It was the one time I managed to outsmart Edward.” Riley arches an eyebrow at you. “He was being an asshole a couple of years ago and I had enough of it. In the end, I got his beloved beach house.”

“And how did you outsmart, Edward?” Riley asks, sauntering over to you. You smirked draping your arms around his shoulders when he reached you.

“I’m a smart cookie,” You wink. “Besides, a magician never reveals her secrets,” You whisper to him.

“You know what I think?” He asks, his hands resting low on your hips. The tips of his fingers getting closer to your ass. You hum stepping closer to him. “I think you have some enchanting power and you bewitch everyone around you.”

“Is that so?” You whisper, playing with the ends of his hair. He nods bumping his nose against yours. “And have I enchanted you, Riley Biers?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Without a doubt,” Riley tells you. “And I’d have it no other way,” You grin connecting your lips with his.

His hands glide over your ass, giving it a tight squeeze, before continuing to your thighs. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist.

“How about we christen the place?” You suggest, moving your lips to his jawline.

“We’ll have to hit everyone, it’ll be back luck to leave one out,” Riley smirks, digging his fingers into your hips.

“Well, then pick a room and let’s get started diamond boy,” Riley tightens his hold on you and flashes into one of the several bedrooms. You gasp when he tosses you onto the bed.

You lick you lips watching him strip his shirt. His arrogance grows as you shamelessly watch him undress in front of you. You enjoyed the show.

When he was done, he beckoned you forward with his finger. Biting your lip, you climb off the bed. His fingers gently grab your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Your turn,” He whispers, giving your lips a light peck before laying on the bed where you had. You turn to face him, your fingers toying with the end of the shirt. “Go on baby girl, nice and slow for me”

A deep blush paints your cheeks. You slowly lift the shirt off your body. Your eyes anxiously meet his. His eyebrows raise and that damn smug smirk stays on his lips.

The next to go are your pants leaving you in your panties and bra. Knowing that something like this was gonna happened you decided to wear you good pair. They’re even a matching set.

You breathe in sharply when Riley appears in front of you. His hands lightly brushing along your curves. They raise and cup your breasts before he looks into your eyes.

“Flawless,” Riley whispers, attaching his lips to yours. His hand squeezes your breast while the other one goes to cup your ass. In a heartbeat, Riley removes your matching set and pins you onto the bed.

“Riley!” You cry out when he thrusts into you without warning. You jaw drops, your head pushing back into the pillows as he drills into you. He growls biting at your neck, careful to not draw blood but enjoying how easily your skin bruises with his touch.

You whimper when he suddenly pulls away and out of you. He has you flipped on your chest before you can blink. You fist the sheets as he thrusts back into you going deep. His thrusts are slower than before but all the more powerful.

His hand grabs a fistful of hair forcing your head to come back. He growls in your ear before suckling on a patch of skin just below. His hand wraps around your stomach and forces you to lean back and reposition your knees. He holds you against his chest and continues his deep thrusts while whispering how well you take his cock and how beautiful you are.

After you christen the first room you and Riley make your way throughout the house. He fucks you everywhere and in every position. He bends your body in ways you didn’t know you could bend. He worships everything you consider a flaw and whispers his love for you while he does it.

It took you a couple of days to finish your christening session. He had a vampire’s stamina while you needed rest like every other human. At some point, you told him about your plans for the wedding as he wore you legs like earmuffs. You would ask for his opinion in between the moans and every time he would assure you that he would like whatever you had planned.

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper, laying on your side facing him. Hs lays on his back, his head turned toward you. He hand lifts and gently brushes your cheek. “I love you,” You declare, climbing on top of him.

“I love you, baby girl,” He replies, kissing you when you lean toward him. Your lips leave his. He lays there as you kiss down his chest and torso. He growls quietly when your hand brushes against your cock.

You smirk, your eyes flickering up to him. His bronze eyes watch you, his jaw ticking when you lightly kiss his shaft. You notice his hands clenching around the sheets the more you tease him.

He groans when your lips encase around his tip. You bob your head taking more of him every time you go down. Your hand grips the base while the other one rubs his abdomen.

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” Riley groans. You lift off of him, your hand moving up and down as you smirk at him.

“Well, I’ve never been good at saying no to food,” You tell him Riley grins but it’s wiped off his face as you attempt to deepthroat him. You gag when his hips snap up.

His hands slither into your hair and forces your hand to stay still as his hips rut into your mouth. He groans words of praise as you continue to let him use you. His hands release your hair when he warns that he’s about to come but you stay where you are and swallow him.

“You’re just as good of a snack as I am,” You wink at him. Riley grins, pulling you up to him.

A couple of days later you get an... interesting call from Carlisle.

“She’s what?” You ask, slowly sitting down in a nearby chair. “How is that possible?”

“We’re not sure,” Carlisle says. “You and Riley should come home.”

“Ye-yeah, of course,” You nod, gripping the phone tightly. “We’ll be home soon,” You assure him before hanging up.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to leave for another week,” You gasp, turning toward Riley. He had been out hunting and you didn’t expect him to be back so soon. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s alright,” You whisper, nipping at your nails. Riley picks up on the anxiety and claims the seat beside you.

“What’s wrong? What did Carlisle want?” He asks. Your eyes flicker from him to your shoes. “Y/n,” Riley says, grabbing your hand. “What’s going on?”

“Bella’s pregnant,” You whisper. Riley tenses. Your eyes look up at him. “Edward got her pregnant and we haven’t exactly been careful.”

“You think...?” His eyes flicker to your stomach.

“We need to go home,” You whisper to him. He slowly nods, his eyes not leaving your stomach. “Riley,” He looks up at you. “We’re going to be ok... Right?”

“We’re going to be ok,” Riley assures you. He caresses the side of your face. “I love you, baby” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

The two of you left immediately. When you got home, Bella and Edward were already home. Carlisle was examining her before insisting on examining you. While he couldn’t tell if you were pregnant at the moment, you had a couple of weeks before you were in the clear.

You were not in the clear. It only took another weeks for your symptoms to show. You were three weeks behind Bella. When Riley found out, he didn’t know how to react just like you.

You were a little older than Bella but still fairly young. While you loved the idea of a family with Riley, the unknown about this baby scared you. Despite not knowing how this would turn out, you loved the baby. Unlike Edward, Riley loved your child as well.

At night, he would talk to the baby. He hoped for a boy and would tell them stories of him growing up. Some stories made you laugh while other stories made you yearn to know his family.

As the baby grew, both you and Bella started to get sickly. Riley felt conflicted. He loved the baby as you did but he loved you more. He’d rather have you than risk you to this baby but you couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to your child.

“Riley,” You whisper. His head snaps to you and he flashes to your side. Your hand caresses your stomach.

“What is it? Are you hurt? Uncomfortable?” He asks, his hand resting on your stomach. You both smile when you feel the baby kick. “Easy little one, you’re mother’s fragile. It’s not nice to hurt her,” He mutters kissing your bump. As if listening to him, the baby stills.

“This baby’s half vampire,” You whisper. Riley hums, his eyes looking at you. “What if he’s thirsty?” Riley perks at the idea.

“Stay here,” He whispers, kissing your forehead. You sigh rubbing your stomach as he goes to fetch you something to drink. “Had to convince Carlisle that this was for you and not me,” Riley teases, bringing you a Styrofoam cup.

“This is a bad idea,” You mutter, holding the cup.

“You’re probably right about your theory though,” Riley says, gently caressing your thigh. “Give it a try... Think of it as trying a new smoothie or a bloody Mary,” He winks at you.

“If it’s a bloody Mary where’s my celery stick?” You ask, tilting your head. Riley chuckles a bit.

“I’ll remember it next time, mama,” Riley promises, winking at you. “Don’t smell it, just drink.” You send him a look but take his advice. “So?”

“Tastes pretty damn good,” You tell him before drinking some more. Riley breathes in relief. He leans toward you and kisses your forehead.

“We’re going to be ok, baby” Riley whispers.

Once you realized that blood was what you and Bella needed to stay nourished, the two of you became healthier. Everything was going smoothly until the wolves found out about your and Bella’s pregnancy.

“I don’t care if those mutts are your friends or if you have some treaty with them, if they come near Y/n I will kill them,” Riley growls protectively. Jake growls back at him warningly.

“It won’t come to that,” Carlisle promises. “We out number them, they won’t attack,”

“No, they’ll wait for the opportune moment and then attack. Why would we wait for them to find the chance?” Riley snapped.

“Because we gave them our word that we wouldn’t break the treaty,” Esme tells him. “You’re apart of this family now and we won’t be the ones to attack first,”

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your mate their aiming to kill,” Riley snaps.

“We’ll protect both Bella and Y/n with our lives, their our daughters.” Carlisle tells him.

“You’ll protect them as long as you don’t have to kill anyone else,” Riley tells him. “I’ll tear the entire reservation to shreds if it means Y/n and our child will be safe,” He turns to Jake. “Tell your precious band of mutts that if they try to harm my family that I will take everything from them,” Riley warns before returning to your room.

“He won’t do anything unless Y/n is hurt,” Edward assures them.

“So, we’re at a standstill,” Esme whispers.

Despite not having that many health concerns to worry about tensions continued to rise as Sam’s pack refused to let the Cullen’s hunt. Riley’s patience was wearing thin. He was ready to get rid of the wolves but knew he couldn’t do it on his own. However, that wouldn’t stop him if he felt you were in immediate danger.

Then Bella went into labor and everything escalated. Riley stayed in the your room with you. He paced across the floor as he listened to Bella screaming and her heart giving away. He looked to you when she died. He imagined you going through the same fate and his fear for your life raised.

“Riley,” You whisper, looking outside to see the wolves coming.

“I won’t let them near you,” He growls joining Edward, Alice and Jasper outside. Unlike the other three, Riley wasn’t worried about hurting them. He didn’t kill the wolves but he certainly broke bones and knocked one unconscious.

When Jake came out claiming to have imprinted on Edward’s daughter, Riley tensed. He growled at the thought of one of those mutts even going near his daughter as he rejoined you in the room.

You were relieved to see Riley wasn’t hurt and even more relieved to hear Bella had survived the transition. Edward kept her close as she adjusted to the newborn life while your grew closer to your due date.

Your baby decided it was time to come out while you were sleeping. The pain was unbearable. You didn’t remember Riley carrying you to Carlisle’s office or anything that followed really. You just remember the pain, then the numbness and then the darkness.

Waking up, you instantly saw the world differently. It didn’t take you long to put two and two together. You were a vampire.

You moved into the mirror. Your ruby red eyes stare back at you through the reflection. You pout slightly at your curves but knew you would have to get on good terms with them seeing as they would truly be with you for the rest of eternity.

“And here I was thinking that you couldn’t get anymore beautiful,” Looking in the reflection you see Riley staring at you. You speed up to him, almost knocking him over. He chuckles steadying you.

“I guess it’s a good thing you liked my curves,” You whisper to him.

“One of my favorite parts about you,” Riley winks before kissing you.

“The baby,” You whisper pulling away.

“A boy,” Riley tells you. “He’s healthy, Esme’s looking after him right now”

“A boy,” You laugh. “Y/s/n,” (You son’s name)

“Y/s/n,” Riley nods, hugging you tightly. “Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

As much as you wanted to hold your son, you were terrified of hurting him. It took a couple of weeks before you held him in your arms. Riley stayed close making sure you were in control.

“He’s so beautiful,” You whisper kissing his forehead. You didn’t want to let him go. You hogged him for days, only ever letting Riley take him for a little while.

“I don’t know why we bought a crib when all he does is sleep in your arms,” Riley teases.

“He’s so precious,” You whisper, kissing his forehead delicately.

“You both are,” Riley whispers, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle into Riley, holding your baby between you both.

Everything was perfect. But you still needed one more thing.

“You look beautiful,” Carlisle whispers. You spun around, twirling in your wedding dress. “Are you ready?”

“Hell yeah,” You nod causing Carlisle to chuckle. He offers his arm and you take it. He leads you outside where a small gathering of your friends and family are. They stand on either side of a makeshift aisle with Riley waiting for you at the end.

Carlisle walks you toward him, your eyes flickering away just for a moment to see your son resting in Esme’s arms. Your two boys. Your small little family. You couldn’t hope for anything more.

Your eyes go back to Riley. Carlisle gives you away to him. Your soon-to-be husband pulls you close.

“Ready to be mine forever?” You ask him.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else n the world,” Riley winks at you.

#Riley Biers #Riley Biers x reader #Riley Biers x Female!Reader #Riley Biers x Y/n #Twilight #Cullens #pregnant #vampire x human #human!reader #Plus sized reader #Vampire!reader #newborn #request #mates #soulmate

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faorism · 3 years

Text

leverage ot3 late spring wedding day looks, as proposed by hardison, refined by parker, and then acquired by eliot and his wide assortment of contacts. (this post got fucking long af so read more to save us all.)

PARKER

our nb prince out here gonna start us fucking strong with a dark grey tits out suit number. the cut of the jacket is inspired by kirk's in search for spock. and by inspired i mean it is the same design only with slightly tighter cuffs and a belt that's more obi style without a buckle. the leather stripes on the sleeves definitely stay. while i fucking adore the gorgeous detailing of kirk's shirt collar, parker out here to kill so she ends up with a simple loose white blouse that has like two pearl buttons that are hidden by the belt.

ankle length pants that do not have kirk's puffs but again, the stitched detailing makes an appearance. these hems greet a pair of white fuck you jimmy choos.

she is parker so she does wear gorgeous (stolen by alec and eliot) waterfalls of pearls and diamonds around her neck and in her ears, but they make sure to include in the ceremony a moment where sophie takes off her (as well as the other two's) jewelry before entering the chuppah. the jewelry is reapplied during the yichud.

she wont wear a kippah exactly but a small cap fitted into her up-do with a veil. neat for symbolism sure but she doesn't get it as the "bride" (which she aint) but because she is very excited to wear one after sophie made them look cool wearing them for her funerals.

her nails are painted black.

nip slips miraculously only happen to be witnessed by the adults who either deserve to see it (maggie), appreciate the tease (tara), thrive off chaos (quinn), need to be made uncomfortable (sterling, who got an invitation with a note from eliot specifically saying he is already listed as nate and sophies plus one so hes gotta show), or all of the above (her intendeds).

ELIOT

alec was very tempted to put him in something absolutely flashy and intricate, but he's on a theme now and so he looks to a variation off mccoy's st: the motion picture semi-retired casual look. eliot's suit is not completely faithful: he aint wearing no onesie. but the jacket does come up short up his waist, but its sleeves are three-quarter to expose his sexy forearms. the pants are truly inspired (thanks parker): since eliot likes his damn pants so loose, they give him those fancy pants that balloon out in the legs and flow like a skirt, and whatever whatever i dont know if it would look good all together and on him, but nb!eliot (even before he realizes that's what he is) requires this, leave me alone. and for the party and dancing, since he is bound to get sweaty in the jacket, hes got kirk's fancy asymmetrical blouse parker couldnt make work for her, but it's now a white sleeveless joint.

eliot's suit is a lighter grey shade than parker's but of the same slightly blue hue, and im thinking it definitely needs to be an airy/flexible fabric like linen or flax. maybe all of theirs are, but i think eliot would def appreciate movement.

his hair is braided into an elaborate crown (thanks again parker, true mvp) with ribbons and silver beads. he has some loose curls at his temple jane austen style to really get hardison hot and bothered. for his kippah, they cheat a bit because it is also ringed with the same lace from parkers veil threaded through with a few diamonds and pearls that cannot be removed but eliot is their bestest score and needs pretty things so shhhh nana approves and that's all that matters.

in addition to the blinged out veiled kippah, eliot has got on diamond studs and his typical random assortment of bracelets plus some lux things parker supplies. there is also a leather wrist cuff he Does Not And Will Not take off, because it's the very special one parker and hardison got for him for their second anniversary, that has an inscription on the inside so it rests against his pulse. WE CHANGE TOGETHER it promises in parker's handwriting, then FOR ALL OUR DAYS in alec's.

eliot is wearing eyeliner.

HARDISON

this man out here after my own damn heart because he is gonna have a second lewk from st:tmp, his being spocks vixen in black look. except hardison shows up like a vision in white. his tight pants hug his long legs. for the top, he got this whole ass cape/vest with bellowing shoulderpads thing spock has on. i dont really know how to describe it other than hardison is totally peacocking in a lot of fabric. tho part of that is likely his clipped in tallit that can be easily removed for prosperity; his tallit gotta be big to shroud his two intendeds. the top (which does not have the vulcan embroidery, which was alecs choice even tho his partners would have been chill with it) is otherwise sleeveless.

i am in love with hardisons hair grown out a bit so that's what hes got up top. for a kippah, he has on the first one nana gave him: a simple blue that is worn threadbare at the edges and familiar and loved and color faded.

he has on a thick ass silver bracelet-cuff thing that is basically art that gives the impression of a solar system or constellation idk geek shit on his wrist. nails are painted white and he's got glittery eyeshadow because he's a fucking whole ass galaxy. he doesnt have dress shoes but like really nice desert boots and sparkly socks that also look like a constellation.

underneath hardison is wearing these gorgeous lacy briefs that feel like a fuckin dream and which, after the honeymoon, becomes the only kind he wears because parker keeps stealing his boxers to sleep in and eliot slowly slips in replacements during laundry days.

ALL THREE

they got their beautiful stolen unadorned rings that they rarely wear (it's a risky to have rings in their line of business, esp for eliot) but during the yichud they add on their private everyday commitments: necklaces one with a lock charm and the other with a key, and a recontextualized pick on a fancy new chain.

and most important of all, they wear their happiness, floating through the world with the most profound joy and love and tenderness embracing their every movement.

#leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker leverage #thiefsome #leverage ot3 #faorism headcanons #of hearth and home and other promises #to make up for yesterdays angst heres some wedding cuteness #pls let me convince you about the beauty of nb dyke eliot pls its right there

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

Text

Javier Peña / Ceasefire

Prompts: “You don’t know me”

Summary: Javier’s been in a bad mood -- and you realize why: you.

Warnings: NSFW, Jealousy (Javi being a jealous idiot), Smut, exhibitionism (why does this keep happening?), dirty talk, swearing, oral (f receiving), i wrote this after watching 2 episodes of narcos help, no y/n

Word Count: 3,004

“What are you two talking about?” You and Steve’s snap up from the file you’re looking at. The file falls closed in Steve’s hands. His eyes flicker between the empty glasses of whiskey, face twisted in a scowl.

Javier is a foul fucking mood, his anger a bitter lime, souring the taste of everyone in the office, or rather now, only, you and Steve. The office is dead and the streets quiet, for once. A temporary ceasefire and a strict curfew bought them some time. But time for what really? They never had enough anyway. Even now. There was only the sound of the low buzz of the flickering lights overhead, dying. But everything seemed less alive when you were surrounded by nothing but death.

And Javier was no different.

A dark cloud had been brewing over his head since the day before, when he found you and Carrillo in his office, pouring over plans that he hadn’t gotten to see. Lightning cracked down on anyone who dared to enter his radius. The entire office had steered clear of him since, including you and Steve.

Steve says nothing, but shoots you a look that says everything, asshole, “Nothing, Javi, didn’t know you were one to take interest in our personal lives.”

“Didn’t know you had all the capital on being a nosy fucking busybody,” he bit back, grabbing the file out of Murphy’s hands, before flipping through it, pausing, “This isn’t work.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, hem of your dress riding up, “We’re off the clock, Peña, not like it’s any of your business,”

“Wedding pictures are how you guys like to spend your off time?” he whistles, his eyes unabashedly raking over your bare legs, “I thought I told you not to go too crazy on the weekends.”

“Not that you asked, but I needed some help with an anniversary gift for my wife,” Steve sighs, crossing his arms, “didn’t think you would be interested.”

“And why would she be?” He jerks his head to you, tilting it, before tossing the file back onto Murphy’s desk past your head, “she doesn’t believe in marriage.”

You snort, rising from your seat. “And how would you know anything I believe in?” you brush by him intentionally, shoulders colliding, you ask, shrugging on your coat, “you don’t even know me.”

His eyes flash dangerously, eyes catching the reflection of the dancing lights — but there was something more than just light — anger. You catch how his fingers flex in place, his lips a tight line, but he says nothing when he spots you leaving. Instead, you see him continue to discuss something quietly with Murphy, as you turn the corner to leave.

You walked to your anger, gritting your teeth as you burst through the double doors of the embassy. You tugged at the collar of your shirt, feeling the sweat already begin to drip down your neck. Out of one suffocating night and into another.

You didn’t know what his fucking problem was, the metal of your keys digging into your fisted fingers. Your steps echoed against the pavement, the streets of Bogota quiet for the first time since you had arrived. But the silence wasn’t a comfort, instead it was only an irritant for your nerves. Maybe it was the same for Javier — the feeling of standing still was worse than always moving — it was easy to ignore problems when the world was constantly shifting under feet. But at a standstill — you unlocked your car — it was easier to get consumed by everything that was wrong.

You had barely opened the door, when you found yourself pressed against it. Breath sucked from your lungs, your hands fumbled for your gun, ready to shoot whoever had chosen to grab at a federal agent, but instead you found a familiar voice whispering to you in Spanish, “I don’t know anything about you, huh?”

Relief washes over you, only to be replaced with white hot anger, “Javier, what the fuck—”

His lips are at your neck, peeling back your all too warm jacket, freeing your skin to the Colombian humidity that clung to the air desperately. Almost as desperately as Javier’s lips were, burning kisses into your already searing skin. Your jacket slid helplessly to the ground, as helpless as you were under his touch. His fingers quickly pull apart your shirt, nearly ripping the buttons from the fabric to expose your neck to his touch.

You felt anger bubble up in your throat again, only to be distracted by his large hands grasping at your hips, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer. Closer. He was quickly stoking a different fire in you — one growing quicker and spreading faster, especially as his knee parted your thighs for him.

“I know that you like this,” he continued, his fingers already between your legs, fingertips pressing against your soaked underwear, as your hips roll against his touch, “You cannot deny it, hermosa — your body certainly isn’t,” his chuckles rumbles against you, making you shudder against him, “does he know how you you feel? Wet, tight, pliable under my touch, my touch,” he sweeps your tied hair to one side before pulling it from its constraint, “Does he know how you sound when you beg for me every night? Beg me to come? Does he?”

“Does who?” You growl.

Of course, you knew who he was talking about. And of course they didn’t know — you both did your damnedest to make sure no one knew. You knew the reputation that Javier carried, bore it proudly on his chest without any shame. Why would he need to feel it? He was a man after all — he wasn’t married, even if he was, there was no shame for a man to fuck around with his informants. Not when it was the name of justice and fairness. But was there anything fair about how his teeth were dragging across your pulse point, sucking and licking at the newly formed bruise, “Steve’s fucking married and Carrillo—”

“Married is another word for trapped, and you don’t see the way Carrillo eyes you when your back is turned,” He hisses, fingers squeezing your ass, his hardness pressed against your thigh, “there’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Just like there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you spit back, “you’re just fucking pissed because I said you don’t know me, because you don’t.”

“I know you,” he whispers against your skin, licking a stripe up your neck, “I know you.”

You rip his fingers from your body, turning to lean against the car, chest heaving, fingers digging into the cheap paint of the car, “Prove it,” His pupils dilate, as he moves closer, panting in your ear, as he fumbles with your back door, but you shut it and lock it, “you want everyone to know that I’m yours, right?” you sit on the back of the car, looking at the empty streets, “it’s a ceasefire. No better time.”

He growls, the noise sending heat straight down your body, as he presses himself against you wholly, as your thighs wrap around his waist to pull him in closer, “I will know every inch of you after tonight. I will drag my body down every single place, until you are begging me to let you come tonight.”

His calloused fingers trail up your soft thigh again, lingering this time, no longer quick or rough. He made good on his promise, as his fingers explored your lower thigh, his lips mapped your collarbone, “Javier,” you breathed, “this isn’t going to make me beg — this is just making me impatient.”

“Now, now, hermosa,” his fingers finally rake across your core, as his eyes flicker with that same dangerous gleam, “Don’t we Americans say, all good things come to those who wait?”

“We’re not in America,” Your fingers pulled at his collar, tugging him closer, fisting the fabric of his shirt, as he presses a kiss to your soaked underwear, “Maybe I should find out if Murphy or Carrillo are available—” and his fingers slid your panties aside, two thick fingers sinking inside you, “Javi— Fuck-”

“Would they be able to fill you like this? To satisfy you?” A derisive laugh cut off by a short groan, his fingers sliding in and out, his thumb brushing against your clit, “look how you’re dripping for me, and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

“Javi,” your hips roll against his fingers, feeling your body begin to crest just as he slides another finger in, “Javi, please,”

His fingers slow and then withdraw completely, and you nearly sob into his shoulder at the absence of his touch, biting back tears. He kisses each cheek, before trailing open mouthed kisses down your body, until he sinks to his knees, “I haven’t even gotten to taste you tonight,” he mutters, thick fingers sliding your underwear down, his mustache now tickling your thigh, “would you like me to, hermosa?”

“Yes, fuck, Javi—” your head brushes against the car, barely holding yourself upright, and his mouth presses a kiss to your weeping warmth, fingers pressing the soft flesh of your thighs apart to keep them from jumping.

“You’re going to have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says, voice thick with desire, your fingers fist in the soft curls of his hair, guiding him to where you wanted him. He clicked his tongue, nearly brushing against your dripping cunt, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours, “because I don’t know you, remember?”

“Taste me,” you demand, the seething anger undermined by the breathy gasps that fall from your lips after his broad tongue takes a quick stripe up the middle of you. Your fingers form fists, pressing him closer to yourself, his head caught between your thighs. His tongue circles you slowly, painfully — barely touching your clit, before falling into the same rhythm again. Your nails dig into his scalp, “Javier—”

“Would you beg for anyone else like this?” he sucks a pretty bruise onto the skin of your inner thigh, soothing it with his tongue, “could anyone else have you like this? In public?” you know he sees your clench at the thought, “tell me, or your pretty pussy will anyway.” He noses your inner thigh, hot breath against your parted thighs.

“No, Javi,” you breathe, and his tongue flicks against you, one of your hands digging into his shoulder, “No one else, just you. Only you. Please, I—”

His tongue slides into that moment, no longer taking his time, mouth twisted around you, allowing your hands and legs to bring him closer and closer. Your hips roll against his mouth, nearly falling backwards, boneless. And his tongue retreats only to be replaced with two fingers. You feel him smile against your sensitive skin before he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Javi, I’m—” A hand is buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder, knowing you’ll crescent indentations all over the crest of his shoulder blade, and he only seems to pump his fingers faster, until you reach that peak. And he groans around you when he hears you moan his name, your throat raw, as you steady yourself with his body. He rides out your orgasm, swallowing your essence with sloppy lips and his broad tongue.

“I will never get sick of how you taste —” he peers up at you with hooded eyes, lips shiny as his tongue darts across the length of his lips, “best pussy I’ve ever had,” He presses butterfly kisses across your inner thighs, hands rubbing up and down the length of them. Groaning, as you pull at his hair, tugging him up your body, as you pull him into a deep kiss.

You groan when you taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, which flicks against your own. Your hands smooth the front of his jeans, before massaging his prominent bulge in the coarse material, fingers toying with the button, “Sweetheart,” he warns, until your fingers tug down his pants and boxers with it, fingers immediately closing around his erection.

Swears spill from his lips as his hips stutter under your touch, tracing the large vein with your pointer finger, before you squeeze, And suddenly his large hands are underneath your thighs, hooking your legs around his waist. The tip rubs against your clit, and you suddenly realize just how hot you are. Sweaty, sticky bodies in Bogota’s impossibly humid night, sweat rolling down your bare shoulder, his head buried in the nape of your neck.

“I need you, Javi,” you admit, shaking your head, as the edge of the car digs into your ass, “please.”

“What do you want, hermosa?” he mutters darkly against your collarbone, lips an inch from yours, “you have to tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, and his cock only brushes your folds, “I want you to fill me, remind me how much you exactly know me. Never let me forget what it feels like to have you inside me—”

He growls, a growl pulled from deep in his chest, “We’ll make sure of that, won’t we, hermosa?” He slides into you, first few inches parting your folds as he grunts, “So fucking tight for me, only for me.”

He bottoms out in you, your muscles contracting around his thick cock as you take him deeper, deeper. His hips rock against you, and your warmth welcomes it, soaking wet and swallowing him. His arm steadies you from behind, wrapped around your back, your chests brushing against each other.

You can’t stop the moans from falling from your lips, echoing in silence of the night. You know he’s unwilling to let stop it, corner of his lip pulling as he watches himself fuck you harder, “I wonder if Steve can hear us, hear how good I fuck you,” you clench around him tighter, another moan pulled from your mouth, “Imagine if he walked out to get to his car, imagine if he saw us, would you like that? To see you all fucked out by me? With my cum slipping down your ankles?”

“Javier—" he lifts you higher, sliding into you deeper at this angle, and you nearly sob at the sensation, "fuck, I—"

"Tell me," he groans, as his hips begin to stutter, "tell me who can only make you feel this way,"

"You, Javi, only you," you nearly scream, as his fingers rub down hard on your clit.

"Cum for me," he grunts in your ear, as you tip over the edge, your walls tightening around him, your back arching as his arm steadies you around him. His hips continue to thrust into you, until finally they stutter, as he cums in you.

He slowly stills inside you, his breath coming in soft pants. He presses your forehead to yours, for a moment, eyes squeezed shut. He slowly eases you down, pulling himself out, as he straightens your underwear and clothes. His fingers linger at the hem of your dress a moment too long. He adjusts himself, as you lean against your own car, eyes never leaving you still.

His gaze darkens when he sees you glance at the embassy doors, "Javier—"

"Let me take you home," he says, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead, "come on. You can leave your car here." You raise a brow, as his arm wraps around your middle, "Or I'll have a buddy drop it off. Let's just go, hermosa."

You don’t argue with him, instead leaning into his touch as he leads you to his car instead, your head buried in the collar of his shirt. The smell of sex mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes is nearly overwhelming, you resist the urge to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

The car ride is silent, your head resting against the cool glass of Javi’s car. His hand grazes your knee innocently, resting there and occasionally squeezing, as if he was reminding himself that you were there — you were with him still.

As you pull up to your small house, your eyes slide over to him, as he puts the car into park. Hand still resting over the gear shifter, his eyes turbulent — but a different storm than before — not one of lightning, but one of rain.

“Javier, I don’t understand what you want—”

“Sweetheart—” You shake your head.

“No, we both agreed to keep this a secret. To just stick to fucking outside of work,” your eyes blink away memories of the first time it happened — his lips still tasted of the whiskey he had drank at the bar, yet somehow tinged with a sadness, a yearning for a distraction from all the death and danger that followed them and that they had followed — “But this — getting jealous of Carrillo? Of Steve?”

A frown twists at his lips, “I’m sorry, okay?” he leans his head back against the headrest, a sigh parts his lip as he pulls a cigarette from his pack, “Look, you’re better off with someone else—”

“I thought tonight was about proving I wasn’t,” you shifted in your seat, still sticky with the proof of that fact. His eyes snap to the movement before rising back to your face, a twitch of his upper lip, “Javier, what are you so afraid of?”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “I’m not scared of a lot of things, hermosa,”

“But you are scared of this,” you say, as his eyes fall to his lap instead, and you let it go, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. There was another time for this conversation. You open the car door, “Are you coming?”

He blinks, tilting his head, “You still want me to come inside?”

You grin, tugging at his collar, before plucking the cigarette from between his fingers, “You know me so well,” you press a kiss to the corner of his lips, hand cupping his cheek, “tell me what you think.”

#javier pena #javier peña #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos imagines #narcos #javier pena smut #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña imagines #Javier Peña x you #i knew i was gonna be in deep for this man #but i didn't realize how badly

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

late night devils | b.b.

summary: bucky gets revenge on his ex with you, the girl he never got over no matter how much he thought he did.

WARNINGS: smut (18+, oral - m receiving), daddy kink, sub/dom elements, y’all out here being nasty and vindictive, drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating pairing: modern!bucky x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: smut with very little plot bc i have no brain for it. enjoy heheheh ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) bucky is PUSSYWHIPPED ngl

Bucky doesn’t expect to get a call asking for him to come over when he’s sitting at the bar counter, but he gets it and if he could, he’d break his phone in his fist.

“I told you, Dot, it’s fucking over.” The music is blasting in the club, bright with life, as Bucky tips back another shot. It’s a busy Thursday night. The dance floor is nearly completely occupied and the bass thrums through the floor as he tries to let his ex down gently as he has been for the past ten minutes.

“You can’t be serious. You think you can just walk out after three years—”

Alright. That’s enough.

“And do you think you can just call me like I’m some fucking booty call three days before your wedding after you dropped me like I was fucking nothing? No. Goodnight.”

Tapping his screen to hang up, Bucky sets down his phone with a hard sigh and gestures to Sam for another line of shots. His hand was burning from how long he held the stupid phone for, and he cools it down by cradling his vodka glass, pushing it back and forth between his hands.

“Dot, again?”

“Yeah.”

“Tough, man. I’ll get you some shots when I get Romanoff off her little blondie’s lap” His friend taps the bar counter in a show of support before heading to the end where Natasha was flirting with one certain blond man. Steve. AKA their resident bouncer currently off duty. Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling for a moment as Natasha turns around. The two give a talk before Natasha ducks underneath the countertop door and slips into the crowd, Steve in hand.

“Hey, Sam!” A sharp, too-sober voice catches Bucky’s hearing and he turns to see a woman wrapped in a leather jacket and tight fucking jeans burst through the crowd. Rain is still glistening along your shoulders and you pull your hair out from underneath your jacket. You wear a hoodie beneath the leather and as you lean against the bar beside him, he catches the words printed onto the chest.

Yes, I’m single. It reads, bright white against the black of your hoodie. Now’s your chance.

His eyebrows rise as you catch Sam’s attention. His friend glances at you but Bucky merely shrugs, looks at you, and thinks, A regular? Fine. I’ll bite.

“What’s the strongest you’ve got?” You tap your fingers impatiently and he watches the strobe lights glint on your black nails as you lean forward on your arms. He shifts back and you send him a glance, eyebrow arched as your eyes rake visibly over his form. Damn, you’re confident, and when you grin, he decides maybe you’ll be an apt distraction from his fucking problems.

“Not the usual?”

“Need something stronger tonight, Sammy,” you sing and he grins.

“I’ll make you something special. Let’s work up to Everclear, yeah?” Sam turns to Bucky, leaning onto his elbows. “Whaddya say, boss? Break out the Everclear for a pretty girl?”

“Now, hold up,” Bucky says, putting up a hand to catch your attention and he smirks as Sam brings out ten shot glasses pinched between his fingers.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicker over his body visibly and he smirks, twisting slightly to look at you fully. His knees part widely and maybe it’s the alcohol he’s already had, but it looks like you glance right between his legs.

“Hey.” The red lights swing their way, blinding him for a moment before it’s gone again. Sam lines up the shot glasses and Bucky watches as he pours them overflowing before glancing at you again. “Wanna? On the house.”

“Are we working up to body shots?” you ask slyly, sliding into the empty stool as he shrugs, grabbing the first one on his end. You take one from the other and throw it back as he does the same. It burns all the way down.

“If you wanna,” he says with a shrug and you laugh. “Hold on the Everclear, Sam. Let’s get to know the pretty lady first.” You snort into your second shot as Sam shakes his head when someone flags him down.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to work,” he says pointedly. “But you kids have fun.”

“Fine by me.” Bucky shrugs. “That just means I get all your attention.”

“Don’t like sharing?”

He half-laughs, pushing down shot three and four in rapid succession before slamming the glasses down on the wood. “Nope. I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Consider me charmed.”

“No name?”

“I’m not looking for names tonight,” you say before you order another line of shots.

Something about you is undeniably charming. You give the air that he’s known you his whole life as you talk and listen and laugh. He gravitates towards you as you speak and talks about everything when you listen because he has this feeling you won’t judge him. It’s something about the confidence, the way you don’t give a fuck about what he thinks of you. It’s so different from Dot.

Dot, who worried about what that girl was thinking about Bucky or what that guy thought about her. And there was nothing wrong with caring, but Bucky couldn’t bear to give a shit about anything anymore.

“So you’re here because of a broken heart?” you point out after he explained his phone call prior to their meeting and he chuckles, the vodka making his head pulse with the beat in the club. The red and blue lights flash and blur in his vision but your face is still clear.

“Nah. I don’t love her,” he says, turning to the mojitos he ordered for the both of them. Yours is half gone, his gone completely. “Just… sick of being some stupid second fucking choice. She leaves me for a millionaire then comes crawling back for one last fuck. Fucking ridiculous,” he spits, grabbing your mojito and sucking it down.

“You’re preaching to a damn choir,” you say scathingly.

“Husband?” he pries and you eye him for a moment knowingly.

“Boyfriend. Left me for some kid in high school. We’re fucking third year college, man. That shit’s so gross and I’m ready to beat the shit out of him. Might as well do it drunk.”

“Hah, I did that once.”

“Get with a highschooler?” you ask, voice tinging with something judgmental and he laughs because it’s such an outrageous notion and he can’t help but agree. Fucking nasty.

“Fuck, no. I had a best friend I was fucking in love with,” he begins, the mint cool against his tongue. “High school. Got creeped on by some older dude and I beat the fuck out of him when he got too close for her liking. Got expelled, never saw her again after her grad when I realized she was probably going to head to uni and go big, but damn if it was worth it, even if it meant she went with someone else to fucking prom. Fucking Brock Rumlow.” His eyes drift to yours as you stare at him and he chews on his straw, explaining in the briefest of sentences. “Resident asshole of our year.”

There’s a quiet where he sets down the mojito again, and his head is swimming with memories. At the last time he saw the girl of his dreams, graduation cap pinned to hair and a sunset burnishing their street gold.

“No fucking way. Bucky?” you say and he looks at you from his—your—drink. “As in James Buchanan Barnes?” you ask with a scoff evident in your voice and he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What—” His insides are on fire, and his eyes fall to your lips as you press them into a frown. “Who?”

“You fucker!” You slug him in the arm and he yelps, clutching the offended bicep as you take him by the shoulders. “You fucking left me!” He is forced to look at you as your eyes search his. They’re dark with something he thinks is bitter love, and his eyebrows knit together. What is his luck with women lately?

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells over the thundering music, but his answer is swallowed up by a pair of searing lips. Fists in the lapel of his suit jacket, he groans into your mouth as his hand darts to your hips. He drags you flush against him and you crash into his body. Hitching a leg over his, he feels up your hoodie and you open up beneath his mouth. Your hips dip against his as you jump into his lap and he holds you there by the thighs, squeezing the flesh through your jeans.

“Fuck, James,” you whisper and he feels it all again in a heartbeat. That intense, selfish love that seized him as he walked away from you. The way he fucked you in the bathroom before the ceremony, gown bunched at your waist, pants barely shoved past his hips. The curious disgust every time he got with someone that wasn’t the girl from the stall. It’s you. “God, don’t you recognize me?”

These past few years dating Dot, feeling like he’d move past a tiny infatuation, obliterated to nothing as your voice tears down his defenses. Tears down everything he’s built, every lie that you’re nothing more than the past.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your desperate lips and you sink into his lap deeper, arms wrapped around his neck. “Fuck. Yes.” He tilts his chin up when you run your teeth along his neck and his eyes close shut. Heat is surging to his cock at the thought of tearing you apart here and his jeans tighten as your hips grind down against his. “Could never fucking forget you. Grown ass woman, now, huh?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper, pulling off of him though it’s more of an order and he nods, standing up with a stagger. Your hand is insistent on his wrist, hand melting through his skin.

“I live five minutes away,” he mumbles, drunk off his ass. When he looks at you, he doesn’t see smokey eyes or mulberry painted lips. You weren’t always so dark, direct, rough around the edges.

No, you were bright eyes and strawberry lip gloss once. Straight A’s, straighter laces. By the books and popular and pretty and innocent until he got you on his bed and ate it out of you.

Maybe he fucked the good girl out of you.

He doesn’t mind. He already knows he likes it when you’re bad.

“Fuck.”

His nails scratch down your back pleasantly and you purr, pressing him deeper into his couch. You’ve managed to slip out of all your clothes on the walk up and his hand digs into your hip, his other hand working against your slick heat. The heel of his hand rubs against your clit as you lift and sink into three fingers. Your walls clench around him and he groans at the tight suction as his phone rings.

“Ignore it,” you mumble, kissing him sloppily and his tongue glides against yours, burning with vodka. His hand runs up your back to grab your hair and he yanks your head back, licking down your neck. “James—”

“Fucking missed this, sweetheart. Fuck. Missed this pussy more than anything else,” he groans. Your pants whisper against his ear as your hands roll into fists against his head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you rock your hips against his hand desperately. “Come on.”

You moan right into his ear when his wrist flicks up and his fingers plunge deeper into you, wet with the first orgasm he’s wrenched from you just like this. It breaks and your whole body shudders. Your walls tightens around his digits and he increases the speed of his fingers. Your legs trembling, you let out a hoarse cry.

Your voice breaks and your nails dig into the nape of his neck as you come on his fingers. Your thighs clench around him as he bends his finger inside you and you choke out a moan. A pulse travels through your body as he lazily plays with your engorged clit and you twitch with every gentle stroke as he pulls you through your high.

His phone lights up. Ding. Ding. Ding. And then, his ringtone blaring in the thick heat of his room.

You’re sweating against him, resting your whole body on him as you kiss along the cord of his neck and he bites his lip, groaning. You nip along his collarbone before soothing it with your tongue, tasting the alcohol he’s beginning to sweat.

Lazy love.

“She’s not gonna stop fucking calling,” Bucky whispers in defeat, hand stalling inside you and you groan in frustration, hips grinding against his heel. Prompting yourself up, you frown. “Fuck. I have to pick up.” He bites into your breast, licking your nipple in passing before leaning over to grab his phone. Your legs widen, and you lower yourself deeper into his lap as he keeps a hand firmly on your ass.

“For fuck’s sake,” you growl, slipping your hand down his cock and he lets out a groan against your shoulder. His cheek pressed against your joint, he stares at the Caller ID in dread. “She treated you like dirt and you’re still picking up her calls? I think you should just put her in her place.” The venom in your tongue makes something inside him twitch, makes him want to just pin you down and put you in your place because you don’t know shit and Dot isn’t worth my time anyway but instead, he slaps your ass and shifts his legs apart.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m picking up that call no matter what, sweetheart.”

“Are you serious?”

“Get on your knees.” You pause and he turns to you, a thrill boiling through his blood as he slaps your ass. “Let’s put that mouth to use.” Your eyes go black with lust as you swallow, sinking to the floor between his legs, and he chuckles, spreading his legs farther apart. Your fingers trail along the line of his hips, lips whispering along his thighs as he clears his throat. The phone is still ringing in his hands as he looks down at you and arches an eyebrow. You’re smirking and he grabs one of your curious hands and wraps it firmly around his dick. “Get to work.”

As soon as he’s in your mouth, he picks up. You run your palm down the base of him as you take him in deeper and he lets out a sigh. You’re warm, wet, and he tilts his head back when you swallow. Eyes closing, he lets out a hoarse breath and tries not to give himself away too quickly.

“Bucky?”

“Who is this?” he asks, toying with her, weaving his free hand in your hair. He ups the volume, just enough so you can catch a hint of a word or two over the wet sounds of your mouth.

“It’s your Dotty, Buck.”

Pressing down on his thighs, you angle your head to take him further as if you’re displeased he’s even talking to her at the moment, jealous, even, but he simply grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs you back right, keeping himself just as deep down your throat. You gag, swallowing again.

“Yeah. What do you want?” His words come out breathless. He raises his head just enough to watch you work, eyes glued to the way your fingers, wrapped around him, move up and down. Your eyes are blown out with lust, already on his face and you smile against his thigh as you seem to take him down further. Wet lips wrapped around his cock, hair a mess around your face, it paints a pretty sight. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his length, and he groans when you slowly pull off. It’s an agonizing ecstasy, the way you seem to swallow him deeper despite drawing away. “Oh, fuck. Just like that, sweetheart. That was good, baby, That was good.”

“‘M I being good, daddy?” you ask, voice muffled, and his hips thrust into your mouth just as his hand forces you down, and he closes his eyes at the heat searing his blood. You’re so fucking good.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t worry ‘bout a thing.” He cradles the phone closer to his face. “Fuck. Dot, what do you want again?” he asks. The line is nearly dead and a flash of satisfaction hits him as you moan quietly against his cock. The vibration shoots up to his stomach and he hisses out a breath. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You bob your head between his thighs, the hand not around him digging into his hip. You hollow out your cheeks, the suction sending his head into the stars as the slick sound of your mouth ceases when you simply keep him in your cheek, blown pupils wide and innocent. Your hips twitch against his foot, seeking friction and he smirks. His needy little girl.

Bucky lets go of your hair, patting your cheek before wiping away the trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. He leans forward, dragging you off his dick with a slight pop and a chill brushes against his length as Bucky pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your panting lips, he doesn’t care if Dot can hear every single fucking sound.

He pulls away before you have a chance to reciprocate and your whine follows him as he sinks back into the couch. His hand finds your hair again, guiding you back down his length and you seem to sink back onto your knees. He plunges endlessly down your throat as he clears his own, nearly forgetting he really is on the phone.

“Sorry, Dot. I’m a little distracted right now,” he says nonchalantly, the smile working onto his face.

“If you’re busy—”

“Nah.” You purr at the lie and he tugs your hair as he stifles a moan—a warning with no merit. He keeps you still despite your impatient wiggle and he opens his eyes, simply admiring your face full of his cock. Your eyes are at half mast as you rest your head against his thigh, and his finger traces down your cheek, along your jawbone, as he adds, “You’ve been blowing up my phone all night. You’ve got my attention now, darling.”

“Bucky,” Dot intones, sounding a bit tense and Bucky can’t help but wonder why, “seriously. It’s fine. You clearly have other company.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My girl over here’s just keeping me warm. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He moves the phone from his ear to your mouth where he taps your cheek and you let out a soft, garbled moan, eyes fluttering shut. Bringing the phone back to his ear, he chuckles. “You tired, baby? You getting tired?” His tone is mocking and you’re subdued by the way he commands the air as you nod. Your jaw must be aching as you hold onto his thighs and lean against his leg. You’re a sprawled mess against him. “She’s getting tired, Dotty. Make it quick so I can take care of her.”

“Bucky, this isn’t you. What are you doing?” Dot exclaims but he doesn’t care as he lets out a long, guttural groan at your tongue running along his length in your mouth. Still trying to earn his graces.

“Finally getting the time of my life after you left me high and dry for a fucking year. I’m moving on just like how you did during our relationship. How’s the wedding planning? Feeling nervous?” he asks tightly as you swallow, teeth grazing along his skin and he looks down at you. Warning you for real this time. “Watch it, sweetheart.”

“It’s going… okay. Bucky, I… I didn’t want you to be doing this while I talked to you, but please, listen to me. I’m still in love with you.”

You pull off his dick with a long stroke of your tongue and he groans, hand tugging at your hair as you climb up his body. You nip at his skin along the way, your whole body stretching languidly against his as you brace a knee on either side of his hips and sit down in his lap.

“Seriously?” You press kiss after kiss around his face, long fingers wrapped around his cock and rubbing it slowly. Your purr rumbles in your chest as you dip your head to suck a mark into the underside of his jaw and he runs a hand down your back, cupping your ass. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late right now?”

“You're not giving me any attention, daddy,” you whine with a pout, his dick against your abdomen, just there and he knows you must be aching for it to speak up. Leaning in close, you place your mouth along the cheek where the phone is, trailing tiny little teasing kisses along his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He tries to snag your lips but you merely pull away and bounce in his lap impatiently. His cock brushes against your stomach, painfully hard, and a groan rips through his throat as you gently settle a hand on his chest.

“I know, baby. Just give daddy a moment, alright?” Bucky murmurs and you pout, your hand pulling at his dick. His hips twitch, jerking into your fist as you lay your head on his chest, slouching against him, kissing his jaw fleetingly. “Be a good girl.”

“Okay,” you mumble as you lazily pump him. Your thumb presses softly against the tip, spreading precum down his shaft and he groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes again. You smile against his collarbone as you speed up the pace of your hand. A tight-lipped groan in his chest, he runs a hand up and down the curve of your back.

“It’s a mistake. This wedding’s a mistake,” Dot pleads as you watch his expression. He can feel your stare burning into his neck as you press quiet kisses against his chest. A knot tightens in his navel. “I know the way I treated you was shitty, and I know you must’ve moved on, but—”

“Dot, you left me, cheated on me, lied to me about everything.” Bucky bites down on his lower lip. “Fuck. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” You hum against his chest. The crash is so close and your palm slows down. Growling, he looks up and pins you with a glare, but you merely look at him innocently and he sighs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I have moved on. It’s been a year since we broke up and I think it’s time you did, too.” You raise your head off his chest, shifting in his lap as you straddle his hips upright. His eyes follow you like a wolf as he tries to calm down from the high that never came. His hips twitch against your legs and he lets out a growl when you move your hand away.

“Bucky, wait—”

The phone is plucked from his hand and a protest builds up in his throat as you rest your other hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, lips parted and you smile, sickly sweet. In the dim light of his room, he sees the way the shadows play dangerously on your face. His hand on your back slides to your hip, and his lips find your left nipple as he sinks his other hand into the flesh of your ass.

“Dot?” you ask sweetly as if you’ve no awareness at all, but by the way your eyes flutter, you’re well aware of his mischief. “Hey. Jamie’s a bit busy at the moment. Can you call him tomorrow?” Your smile sits on your face as it turns smug. “Great. Bye!” You hang up and toss the phone onto the coffee stand before cupping his face and kissing him fiercely. It bruises his mouth, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and he groans as you raise your hips and slide him right in like their bodies were made for each other. His vision explodes in stars as you sink, his cock buried deep inside you.

“Fuck was that?” he mumbles when you part from him for a moment to breathe. Your hips slowly swing against his, taking him in deeper with every move as your hands, still cradling his face, burn through his cheeks. His hands run up and down your sides, your front, and you sigh at the rough palms against your sensitive nipples before he hoists you up more comfortably on his lap. “Jamie? I’m not fucking five.” He thrusts up with his question and your breath hitches.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry..” Your lip caught between your teeth, you rock against him faster and his hips lift to meet your thrusts as you tilt your head back. You arch against him, eyes squeezed shut and he pushes your body forward, teeth running over your breasts. “Fuck, James.”

“Bad girl, hm.” His eyes close and your fingers run through his hair, hug his head to your chest. Your moans are a symphony in his ear and you bounce in his lap, knees digging into the cushions.

“Yes, daddy,” you whine into his ear, gasping and the way your every word becomes high-pitched makes him want to fuck you through the couch. You're complete putty in his hands, warm like fire and malleable to his touch, and he kisses the valley of your breasts, his hands tracing the curve of your spine. “I’ve been so, so bad.”

He digs his fingers into your skin and twists, letting you fall onto the couch as he slides his palms down to grab your legs. Everything he touches is wet, burning, and the squelch of your pussy around his cock sends him into overdrive as he puts your legs up on his shoulders. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth is open in a silent moan when he thrusts deeply into you at this new angle. Your hands find his and fingers interlace as he pins your wrists to the armrests above your head.

Smirking, he pushes deeper into you with no grace or rhythm and you thrash against him, mewling at his slowing pace, begging to go faster with the way your wriggle your hips back against him. “Daddy, I—”

“Shh, sweetheart. Now that I’m not busy anymore, I think daddy’s gonna have to teach you a lesson.” Your eyes barely open at his words and he smirks, making sure your attention doesn’t stray for a moment. “Keep those eyes on me, sweetheart.” You bite down on your lip, trying to stem desperate gasps but he growls a warning as he speeds up to a punishing pace. You’re overstimulated, exhausted, but still you try to push back against him, try to get him as deep as he can get.

You’re so eager to please with those plush, pink lips. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, I’ve been bad.”

“Sorry for what?” he wonders aloud just as your eyes squeeze shut and he feels your peak in the way your abdomen goes taut. Slowing down again, he nearly laughs at your disappointed whines. He pulls out completely, waiting for an answer and you cry out at the loss of fulfillment. Your legs lock around his neck. “I’m waiting.”

“Daddy, please... please, I was so close.”

“Give me an answer.” His tip brushes against your heat and you shove your hips forward. “How’re you gonna apologize when you don’t even know what for? How’m I gonna fix it?”

“Please...”

“I’m waiting, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen, daddy.”

He slowly pushes in again and your mouth drops open in an oh as you welcome him easily. You’re so damn wet that he slides in all the way he can with no problem. You lift your hips, heels digging into his back, and he slowly begins to thrust into you again. The sound of his hips meeting yours punishingly, the wet slap of skin against skin is the only sound in the room besides your panting breaths.

Bucky smiles.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson not to talk out of turn tonight, understood? G’na teach you that when daddy’s on the phone, when daddy’s busy with other things, you behave if you wanna stay around,” he whispers, voice darkening with every word and your breasts heave as he runs a hand down your body. Fingers sneaking between their bodies, he presses a thumb against your clit and you fall apart with a shameless moan that bursts from your heaving chest.

Bucky wonders how he ever moved past you. You with makeup streaking down your pretty pouty face.

He didn’t. He never did.

“Oh, god,” you groan, dreadfully broken, still trying to recover but Bucky’s not finished with you yet. No, he’s going to make up for lost time for the rest of his life he can. “Fuck… James. Oh, god.” Your walls clench around him, dragging at his cock as he pauses inside you and he lets go of your wrists. Your legs slip off his shoulders.

“You miss me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek and you pant, nodding weakly. He turns to ensnare you into a heavy, tongue-filled kiss as he sucks on your bottom lip. “Miss me a lot?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumble, voice warped by his incessant kisses and he smiles, ravishing your mouth with his teeth and tongue. He gives you this small moment because it’s going to be a rough night and he wants to savour every last bit of it. By morning, he won’t hear a single peep out of you with how much your throat burns from screaming his name.

That’s three for him, zero for you, and Bucky’s not sure if it’ll end when morning comes.

He wants to ask if you’ll stay and he has a lot of furniture he needs to break in.

The kitchen counter looks like a wonderful place to start to do both.

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

Photo

Funeral Home Workers Describe The Creepiest Thing They’ve Witnessed On The Job

1. Corpse sits up all by itself

“My neighbor awhile back before I moved was a mortician. One night he had a body he was preparing for a very early morning wake or service (whatever was going on, it was unusual, and it required him to work into the wee hours of the morning on this particular corpse).

So as he’s working on it, he turned his back to grab some tools or supplies, and the angle he was standing at with regard to the corpse left the body visible just out of the corner of his eye.

As he was looking down at whatever tools he was getting, in the corner of his eye he saw the body slowly start to sit up.

His fight/flight instinct immediately kicked in, and he ran to the stairs as fast as he possibly could, but he was so clumsy trying to get up the stairs he tripped and was pretty much crawling and clawing his way to the top.

He was just near the top before his senses finally came back, and he knew it was rigor mortis. He collected himself and started to laugh at how absurd it all was.

He had been doing this for 15 to 20 years at that point, and he had never had a freak out like that before where instinct overtook knowledge and experience.

He actually sheepishly admitted he had to go clean himself because he had soiled his pants in the panic.”

2. Dead man holds on to medical technician

“I used to work in tissue recovery. My least favorite part was prepping a donor for recovery, as it included shaving the arms/legs. Once, we had a donor who was very freshly deceased. I held his hand to shave his arm, and his fingers curled around my hand as rigor mortis set in.

That was exceptionally creepy.”

3. They groan as they are moved

“If the deceased have a lungful of air, then moving them causes it to release. When the air travels through their throat, you get some minor vocalization, but it’s usually just a liquidy gurgle. It still gets me sometimes, though, if I’m working alone.”

4. Lights flicker every time a new body is brought in

“I’m a nurse, and the only place I’ve ever seen the lights flicker is just outside the morgue. They are fine almost all of the time but when we bring a body down the lights always flicker. Really creeps me out.”

5. A body shivers in the presence of a living one

“I was filling out paperwork over one of the bodies while working late when it shuddered. Never saw that before or after, no explanation.”

6. Funeral home lights go on and off by themselves

“I’ve only experienced something one time and that was around 10PM, after two years with no activity at the location. I had turned all the lights off in the chapel, and when I went to check the casket door, the lights turned back on. I was nowhere near the switch.”

7. Ceremonial doves are devoured by hawks

“I’m a funeral director/embalmer and I have seen… just so many bad funerals. One that really stood out was the time that a family released doves in a rural cemetery, after being told not to, and a hawk ripped one to pieces.”

8. A woman with a glass eye requested it be left open for her service

“I was a part-time funeral director’s assistant. We once had an elderly woman with a glass eye who requested it be kept wide open for the service. Gave me a hell of a fright when I saw her in her casket.”

9. Man has his dead dog waiting for him at funeral home

“My mother worked in a funeral home. One day, she was asked to go up in the attic to look for some old records, and came across a baby coffin. She went to move it with her foot, and could tell it wasn’t empty. Immediately went back downstairs and asked the director about it.

Apparently it’s a client’s embalmed dog that’s being stored until he dies, so that they can be buried together upon his death.”

10. Identical twin shows up to funeral in the same outfit as his deceased brother

“My mom works in the funeral business. Sometimes I would come to work with her and help her set up the chapel for a service.

One service in particular was of a little boy who drowned. His parents dressed his identical twin brother in the same outfit as him for the funeral.”

11. Funeral workers dress as clowns for a funeral

“We had a clown one time. This person was buried in full clown costume with makeup and all.

At the family’s request, the funeral directors were clowns too. They supplied costume and did our makeup. Family and friends had one teardrop painted on near the eye.”

12. Funeral tech is asked to clean eyes that aren’t there

“One of the creepiest for me was having to clean a gentleman up…I was supposed to clean his eyes, as well.

Opened those up only to see two empty sockets. No eyes. Apparently, it was a post-autopsy embalming.”

13. A man punches a corpse while paying his last respects

“I worked at a funeral home for a while when I was a teenager. After an open casket viewing a man came in saying he wanted to pay his respects privately. No big deal, that is fairly common.

We led him into the viewing room, opened up the casket and told him to take his time.

A couple of minutes later we’re sitting in the office and hear a really loud popping sound, followed by running and the door slamming.

We ran into the viewing room and the deceased’s mouth was hanging open and the skin was odd looking. The best we can figure is that he punched the guy and took off”

14. Woman tries to steal her child’s body during the funeral

“I have a sad one from a funeral director’s perspective. Separated parents were mourning the loss of their toddler at the visitation before the funeral. The mom was grieving unlike any mother I’ve seen grieve over the loss of a child – almost fake.

She proceeded to pick up the deceased child, “hide” him in her coat, and walked out the door when no one was looking.

The other funeral director I work with found the mom running to her car where he stopped her and grabbed the kid. We found out two months later that the mother and her new boyfriend had physically abused the kid.”

15. Decomposition so bad, that cremation was only viable option

“A man was brought into us after lying dead in his garage for 3 weeks in the summertime. He was covered in bugs, his skin was black and green, and the skin sloshed right off the bone. I couldn’t do anything for that case, he was cremated.”

16. Woman’s hair and nails keep falling out

“We were prepping and washing the body of a 90 year old woman. One of her toenails fell off, and the hair on her head kept falling out. It took a good 3 hours to get her hair put back in one strand of hair at a time to make it look acceptable.”

17. A man brings his new girlfriend to his wife’s funeral

“Both my parents are funeral directors. At one service, the wife of an older gentleman had passed away. The widower showed up to the funeral with his new girlfriend who was much younger and was wearing a very revealing outfit.

Whenever the husband would begin to cry, the girlfriend would bring his head to her bosom to comfort him while stroking his hair.

Shortly after the ceremony ended, the husband asked one of the funeral directors about the flowers from the funeral.

He wanted to know if he could take them with him for the wedding he was having that weekend with his new fiancé.”

#Funeral Home Workers Describe The Creepiest Thing They’ve Witnessed On The Job #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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tirednotflirting · 3 years

Text

i could do without a tan on my left hand where my fourth finger meets my knuckle

hello again i was here approx ten min ago and now i am back. kinda. also jesus that title looks LONG wow

this is not new! this was posted to ao3 a touch under a month ago for my darling @clumsyclifford‘s birthday and i’m just a dummy and never posted it to tumblr. so here i am sdlkfjsdl

i got very VERY emo over my love for bella in the a/n on ao3 so you can read my love letter there hehe. bella, babes, i love you so crazy much and i feel so lucky to know you and to call you a friend. thank you for teaching me how to love the things i create and encourage me to really actually grow as a writer. it’s been a lot of fun and a great deal of the confidence i have in myself now is thanks to the early support i got from people like yourself. hope you have a happy wednesday filled with many cups of tea <3

here this is on ao3 if that’s more ur jam

Love is a mug of tea.

2020, Maryland

Alex loves his kitchen.

He loves the big island right in the center of it and the windows over the sink facing out toward the barn. He loves the random assortment of tea towels his mom gave him when he first moved out, and how they’ve traveled with him to each new home over the years. He loves the fridge with lots of space for pictures of friends and family that greet him each time he walks into the room.

The sun is just rising over the top of the barn. He’s been awake for a little over an hour now. Starting his days in the barn is something he’s grown to love, the early mornings for feeding and greeting his animal friends being the only way he can manage being up before the sun. Once he made it back to the house, he quickly showered before throwing his pajamas back on. There was nowhere else they needed to be today so he figured it appropriate.

He fills and sets his kettle to boil in the corner. The clock on the microwave tells Alex it’s 7AM and he hears the familiar click of the coffee machine starting up. (He had been particularly proud of himself when he figured out how to use that setting.) Alex grabs a couple mugs and drops a tea bag into the one he’s claimed for himself for the morning just as the kettle clicks off. He pours water into the mug and hops up onto the island to wait for the tea to steep.

Alex is scrolling down his Twitter feed a couple minutes later when he hears human footsteps followed by the tapping of the dogs’ nails against the tile. He locks his phone and sets it beside him just in time for Jack to step between Alex’s legs and wrap his arms around his waist. Alex laughs quietly as Jack drops his head to rest against his chest. “Good morning, my love,” Alex greets him in a scratchy voice and runs his fingers through Jack’s bedhead.

Jack hums at the feeling and leans his head back against Alex’s hand. “Hello,” he replies. He sighs and moves to stand straight before leaning in to press a quick kiss to Alex’s lips. Jack smiles lazily and turns to the counter where the coffee machine sits. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Was up later than I wanted to be on that call with Mark trying to figure out the plan for next week.”

“You two are always chatty,” Jack says with a smile in his voice while he stirs sugar and milk into his mug. “What time is our flight out tomorrow again?”

Alex slides off the counter to the floor and takes the spot beside Jack, taking the milk carton from him when it’s offered to add to his tea. “Not until the evening. We can probably sleep in a bit, if you want to.”

“I like the way you think,” Jack responds, accepting the milk again when Alex holds it in his direction. He wraps an arm around Alex’s middle to pull him back against chest and presses his lips to Alex’s temple before stepping away to the fridge. Alex feels something pull at the leg of his pajama pants and when he looks down, both of the dogs sit at his feet. He laughs and abandons his mug on the counter to head out of the kitchen towards the back door. Tiny paws click against the wood floor behind him. They race out the door when he finally gets it open.

When he returns to the kitchen, a gentle smile pulls at his lips and he leans against the doorframe for a moment to admire the view. Jack sits in his regular seat at the kitchen island. He’s put his glasses on sometime in the last minute or so since Alex left the room. One hand holds the handle of his coffee mug while the other holds open a novel his mom had sent home with him after he visited her earlier in the week. The sunrise shines through the window over the sink, painting the room in yellow-orange light. It’s a view Alex knows he’s never going to get tired of.

He loves mornings with Jack. When they’re spending their time like this, with their shared early morning routines or deciding who will do what chores around the house that day, it’s easy to imagine spending the rest of his life like this. He can see them, years from now, hosting holiday parties on the farm or arguing over why they should or shouldn’t watch National Treasure 2 for the twelfth time that month, and it takes everything in him not to race back upstairs to grab the ring box he’s got hiding in the back of his closet.

Alex loves his kitchen. Though, as he watches Jack smile down at his novel before pausing to sip from his mug, Alex realizes that the thought of sharing the space with the person he loves has made him love it infinitely more.

“Hey, Jack?”

Jack hums in acknowledgement without looking up from his book.

“Do you want to move in?”

Jack looks up to meet his gaze from across the counter. His brows raise in what is probably surprise and a tiny smile forms across his lips. “Sure.”

“Really?”

Jack folds the corner of the page he’s on before closing it shut. “What? Did you think I’d say no?”

Alex shakes his head with a laugh. “No, I just wasn’t really sure what else to say,” he explains. “I’m just, I don’t know, excited? This is gonna be fun.”

Alex shuffles around the counter into Jack’s open arms that settle around his waist. “It is,” Jack agrees. “Though, I will say, if I’m going to help around the farm more, we’re gonna have to give Milk a talk.”

Alex rolls his eyes and lifts his arms to rest on Jack’s shoulders. “I already told you, the goat is not flirting with you. He bites everyone’s ass.”

“Your goat is trying to steal me away from you.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you.” Jack says, sincerely. A moment later, he cracks and laughs as he tugs Alex in closer. He presses another kiss against his lips. “You realize our mothers are going to start their wedding planning thing again once we tell them about this though, right?”

“Maybe I’ll join them for their brunches this time around,” Alex suggests and lets his forehead rest against Jack’s.

“Sure. Just make sure they’ve got next June blocked off since we’ll be on tour,” Jack replies jokingly before squeezing Alex’s waist to move him aside so he can stand to get more coffee. Alex steals his seat and watches him go through the motions of making his second mug. Without asking, Jack sets the kettle to boil again and pulls the box of Alex’s tea out of the cupboard. The sun has risen more and casts a golden glow on Jack through the window while he rinses his mug. Jack’s always looked his best in the morning, Alex thinks. He considers pulling his phone out to snap a picture, but then he remembers that this exact image isn’t going to be one that’s limited by whatever things might be keeping them stuck in their own homes on opposite sides of the country. That home isn’t going to be a plural for them anymore.

He thinks back to the ring box. Maybe it’s going to need a better hiding spot now.

Jack turns back to Alex, a puzzled look on his face, likely in response to Alex’s lack of a response to his question. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they know.”

“Good,” Jack says with a wink. He reaches across the counter for his book. “Gonna go finish this chapter on the porch. Care to join?”

Alex smiles. “Let me make my tea first, I’ll be out in a few.”

Jack nods. “Good plan. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jack presses a kiss to his hair when he passes him, and Alex watches him head for the front door from his spot at the island. Even more sunshine greets Jack as he opens the door, the windchime out front twinkling a good morning.

It’s going to be a good day.

Love is hotel sheets and a cup of coffee.

2018, New York, New York

The first time Jack wakes up it’s because he feels a dip in the mattress behind him and a warm arm wrapping back around his middle.

Without opening his eyes, he smiles at the feeling of Alex’s lips pressing against the back of his neck. “Flight was canceled because of the storm,” Alex explains, his voice scratchy with sleep. They were meant to have an early flight off to the next city but it’s an off day anyway so the delay in travel shouldn’t really matter. “We’re booked for another one at like, ten tonight or something.”

He turns in Alex’s arms and lets his eyes flutter open. It’s still really early and the curtains are pulled shut, leaving the room dark like the middle of the night. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust before he can really make out any of his boy’s features. Alex settles onto his back and pulls Jack halfway onto his chest. Jack lifts a hand to hold Alex’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the darker circles below his eyes. They’re only a few days away from a break for a couple weeks, and the little sleep he knows Alex has been allowing himself is starting to show. Jack is looking forward to getting them both back to his place to just sleep for a day or five.

“Sounds like the weather in New York wants you to sleep for a few more hours with your handsome boyfriend, then.”

Jack feels Alex laugh from where his cheek rests against his chest. “The storm knows you're handsome?”

“Of course,” Jack sighs. “It’s a universally known fact.”

“Guess we have to keep sleeping.”

“We do, yes,” Jack agrees. He lifts himself up for a moment to press a kiss to Alex’s jaw, smiling at the feeling of his lashes brushing against Alex’s stubbly cheek. Jack cuddles back against his chest and lets his eyes fall shut as their legs tangle below the sheets. He’s asleep again a moment later.

The next time Jack wakes up, the room is still mostly dark but he’s alone.

A thin stream of light shining through a spot in the curtains and the smell of coffee somewhere in the room tells him that enough time has passed that it’s likely a normal morning hour now. It also tells him that Alex is awake somewhere. Jack sits up slowly in bed and looks around the room, expecting to find Alex sitting in the chair in the corner scrolling through Twitter on his phone or writing at the desk. He frowns when he finds the room empty of his boyfriend until then he hears a sneeze on the other side of the curtain. Laughing quietly to himself, Jack rubs the sleep from his eyes. He turns to get out of the bed and, after spotting the pot of coffee, pours himself a mug.

Growing up, Jack has always hated staying in hotels. The rooms were always too cold, the air conditioner too noisy, the pillows just a bit too fluffy. He often found himself jealous of kids who found hotel rooms to be like a magic place to be because he was always miserable until he could crawl back into his own bed back home.

It was better once they started traveling for band stuff. He started bringing his own pillow (the firmness and familiar scent both providing a sense of comfort). And if he ever forgot it on the bus, Alex's chest was a decent substitute. A bed would never feel cold with Alex the Human Furnace pressed against his back below the sheets. The sound of the air conditioning was easily drowned out when he had the gentle, steady puffs of Alex’s breath against his neck to count instead of sheep.

He crosses the room, pausing for a moment to grab a hoodie and his new book from his carry-on, and pulls away the curtain to step out onto the balcony. Alex turns up from his journal and smiles up at him. He’s still in pajama pants and a long sleeve he likely pulled from Jack’s bag. “Good morning, love.”

Jack leans down to press a kiss to the top of Alex’s head before moving to lean against the railing. “Is it still morning?”

“Well, no,” Alex laughs. “But we’re on tour, so it can be morning if we want it to be.”

Jack looks down onto the street, to all of the tiny people moving from place to place. Everyone in New York always moves quickly, Jack thinks. With purpose. He admires that. “Well, good morning to you too,” he replies. “Why are we out of bed if we don’t have to be in an airport for several more hours?”

“I wanted to watch the city,” Alex explains. He lifts his mug to take another sip before continuing. “We move so fast these days. I miss getting to explore.”

“Hard to explore from this balcony.”

“Rian found some restaurant a few blocks away he wants to do an early dinner at,” Alex says, with a wave of his hand. “We can explore then. We’re resting right now.”

“City does still look pretty from here,” Jack observes. Autumn looks nice on New York, he thinks. The winters are too cold and the summers are too hot. Mid-October, when it’s cool but not cold, when the trees are all a rainbow of oranges and reds, that’s his favorite time to be in the city. From where they sit right now, with the sun shining down to warm them and a cool breeze blowing around the steam rising from his mug, it’s easy to say this might be his favorite morning in the city to date.

“Exactly,” Alex smiles while he watches Jack look out over the railing at the buildings and sky.

“What are you working on?” Jack asks. He takes the seat beside Alex and props his feet up on the chair opposite him.

“Feels like lyrics but I might just be journaling,” Alex replies. “I can’t really tell.”

“What are you writing about?”

“You,” Alex responds without hesitation. A decade ago, if Jack had asked that question, Alex likely would have looked up at him with a blush painted across his cheeks and quickly shut the book closed before saying nothing, just songwriter stuff. They’ve come a long way since then.

“Gonna be our next big hit?” Jack jokes.

“Oh, absolutely,” Alex says with a wink. Alex reaches for Jack’s hand after he sets his mug back down and lifts it to press a kiss against his knuckles. He holds onto Jack’s fingers for a moment longer as he takes a deep breath, the early afternoon sun shining on his face, before he lets go to pick up his pen again.

Jack loves touring. He wants them to keep touring until they’re old and gray and even Zack struggles to run and jump across the stage. He loves traveling and finding new undiscovered corners of the world. He loves how it always feels fresh and new in every place they land. He loves not knowing exactly what’s going to come next.

He spent a long time wondering if he should want to settle down. To find a place to really build a more permanent life for himself at some point. But then he looks across the table at Alex and watches the way he bites at the end of his pen. He watches his eyes light up in joy before the pen falls back to the paper in his journal, the lyrics or story or notes about something scratching their way into the page. Alex reaches again for his mug and pauses his scribbling to take a sip. His eyes meet Jack's gaze and he smiles in his direction before returning to the task at hand.

Maybe settling down doesn’t have to be a place. It can be sharing a bed with the same person even if that bed is a new one each night. It can be a pair of dark brown eyes that for the last 20 years can always find his own, even in the most crowded rooms.

Hotel day or not, Jack knows he can’t spend the whole day throwing heart eyes across the table while Alex works. Over the years, Jack has noticed that Alex is always too nice to ask for alone time while he writes despite everyone knowing he likes it sometimes. He takes the last sip of his coffee and moves to stand.

“Gonna go bug Zack while he works out for awhile,” Jack says, pushing the sliding glass door open. “I’ll come find you in a few hours.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Alex laughs, his eyes squinting up at Jack against the sunlight. “Have fun.”

Jack blows him a kiss before stepping back inside. He digs his slides out of his bag and grabs a key card before wandering out of the room and in the direction of the elevators.

On his trip down to the ground floor, he starts thinking about it again, what settling down would look like for him. He's starting to realize that the struggle there is that he can’t picture a settled future for himself because the only future he sees is about a them rather than a him. No matter where they go, Alex is and always has been home.

And maybe, Jack thinks, it’s as simple as that.

Love is a sweater and sky full of stars.

2012, Middle of Nowhere, Southwest USA

The first time Alex steals a hoodie from Jack is February during their sophomore year of high school. Jack’s parents were out of town visiting his sister so they ended up at his place after band practice. They nicked a couple of beers from the fridge in the garage and spent fifteen minutes debating if they had reorganized the remaining bottles in a way that made it less obvious there might be a couple missing.

It was another fifteen or so minutes of drinking and complaining about algebra exams before Alex shivered in the deck chair he had claimed. Alex never said a word, but Jack must have noticed the goosebumps on his bare arms and wordlessly got up to go inside. A couple minutes later, the confused look on Alex’s face was answered with a navy blue hoodie thrown in his face.

He laughed and thanked Jack before he pulled it over his head. It was soft and warm from being inside. When he pulled the hood up over his hair, he was met with the scent of lavender laundry detergent and the body spray Jack had taken a liking to that winter. Alex would never admit to how he started hating the smell of it a little less when Jack started wearing it.

Alex pulled the sleeves over his hands and shoved them into the hoodie pocket. When he looked back up across the metal patio table, a small smile pulled at Jack’s lips. Alex wasn’t given the time to ask what the look had been for before Jack launched into another story about something that had happened in his chemistry lab earlier that week.

(It’s not until they’re on tour the summer after they graduate that Alex really understands what the look was for. He doesn’t really get it until Jack is kissing him against the bunks, his hands sliding underneath a sweatshirt Alex had pulled from Jack’s suitcase. Though it’s impossible for the meaning to be more obvious when You look cute in my clothes is whispered between their lips. Alex only laughs in response and trips over his own feet dragging Jack towards the back lounge.)

Nearly ten years since that night at Jack’s parents’ place, Alex still finds himself thankful that Jack’s sweaters fit loosely on him and smell like the mixture of fragrances that make up his boy. It’s still the same laundry detergent his mom used in the early 2000s, but the cologne Jack wears now is much nicer than the stuff he used to douse himself in every morning before school. He’s pretty sure it’s the one that Rian bought Jack for Christmas last year. Alex will have to ask him in the morning.

The A/C kicks on above where he sits on the tour bus couch, and Alex pulls the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’d stolen out of Jack’s bunk over his hands. He’s having a tea, one of those calming, nighttime ones, in a desperate attempt to settle his mind so he can get some sleep before they’re parked at a new venue in a new city in the morning. The show earlier that night had felt electric, Alex had been more in tune with this crowd than he had in a while. It was a glorious feeling to walk off stage with, but it also meant that the buzz was still tingling a bit just below his skin hours later.

Tea and his journal were his typical go-to choices to relax on a night like this, but unfortunately, his normal methods were failing him. He takes a deep breath, wondering for a moment if he should try out some of those meditation techniques Zack had taught him, and then he feels the bus come to a stop.

He pulls aside one of the curtains to check out where they’re at. Some kind of gas station, it appears. No obvious signs of that much civilization around it, very typical middle of nowhere Arizona (or maybe New Mexico?). He watches their bus driver wander out in front of the bus and shake hands with one of the guys driving the bus some of the other crew are on. Everyone is just stretching their legs, it looks like.

He reaches for his mug to take another sip and frowns down at the ceramic when he realizes it’s empty. Alex considers digging the box of tea out of the crowded kitchen storage for a moment before glancing toward the front of the bus. With a nod to himself, he leaves the mug in the sink and heads up for the door.

They’re in basically the desert and it’s the middle of the night in November, so Alex really has no reason to be surprised by the chill in the air he’s greeted with after stepping out into the lot. He pulls his sleeves back over his palms and walks out further into the lot. Alex hears someone call his name. Across the lot he sees their driver waving. “We’re leaving in thirty. Be back on the bus by then.”

“Got it,” he yells back. And then it’s silent.

That’s always been one of the best things about traveling at night like this. He finds it exciting to really truly be in the middle of nowhere, where he can step out of the bus into stillness, the only sounds being the tiny chirping of bugs or tree branches blowing in the wind. That’s not even his favorite part though. He tips his face up toward the night sky and squeezes his eyes shut to get them more accustomed to the darkness.

No, his favorite part is the stars.

Alex is endlessly grateful for the opportunities they’ve had the last few years to live and work in big, important cities, but he misses the skies he got to call his own out in the suburbs of Baltimore. The light pollution in LA is so bad he can’t see a single star. After about a month out there, he sadly resigned himself to looking up into the sky for the blinking lights of airplanes and just playing pretend.

There’s no need for that out here. The sky above his head here is filled with glittery lights millions of miles away, with giant stars so big he can’t really comprehend their size. It makes him feel kind of small. Alex likes that feeling sometimes. Puts things into perspective, he thinks.

He’s too busy gazing up above his head, trying to find constellations and planets he knows should be visible at this time in the year, that he doesn’t notice the footsteps approaching from behind him. A pair of arms wrap around his waist and he jumps only for a moment before he looks down and recognizes the hands folded over his middle. Jack drops his head to rest on Alex’s shoulder. “Why the fuck are you still awake?” Jack mumbles sleepily against Alex’s neck.

Alex leans back into his chest. “I couldn’t sleep and I felt us stop,” he explains. “I came out to say hello to my friends.”

“You mean the stars?” Jack asks.

“The planets, too. Oh, and the moon.”

“You’ve got quite the posse,” Jack laughs, his lips pressing against the tattoo behind Alex’s ear. “Can I join you?”

“Always,” Alex smiles.

They take a seat on the hard ground and start recapping their day quietly to each other as they face up toward the sky. Despite both of them knowing Alex runs warmer between the two of them, Alex doesn’t say a word when Jack drops an arm around his waist to pull him in closer to his side. Jack starts recounting a dream he was having before he woke up and draws patterns with his fingertip against Alex’s knee. Eventually they grow quiet for a few moments. Before the silence can settle around them too heavily, Jack starts calling out the names of different constellations he can see.

The universe works in funny ways, Alex has always thought. It can spin together new galaxies and expand on and on forever and build up a bright and brilliant sky like the one they’re looking up at right now. But it also made Jack choose to sit at Alex’s lunch table back in the eighth grade and shoved all four of them together on this wild journey and let Jack and Alex fall in love. It’s crazy to Alex that something capable of making and doing such big things would focus any energy on a couple of suburban boys sitting in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere on a punk band tour.

And suddenly, as Alex sits pressed against Jack, watching the person he loves most in the world gaze up at the clear night sky in wonder, his free hand pointing up at all of the constellations Alex had taught him over the years, words start circling around his head. Bits and pieces of lyrics about love and galaxies forming, warm sweaters and cool nights. He blinks away all the words though to let his vision clear. He can write the song another day. Right now, he’d rather focus on the smile pulling across Jack’s cheeks and the way he squeezes Alex’s hand every time he remembers the name of another star in the Little Dipper.

“Alex, was that right?” Jack asks and pulls Alex out of the love drunk headspace he’d been caught up in.

“I love you,” he sighs in response, his mind not able to process any other words. Alex lifts his hand from his lap to cup around Jack’s neck to bring their lips together for a moment. When he pulls away, Alex catches the pale blush on Jack’s cheeks in the light from the parking lot.

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Jack teases with a laugh. “But I love you, too.”

“You were distracting me so I missed whatever you said, but you were probably right. You’ve gotten pretty good at this.”

Jack flashes him a proud smile. “I have a good teacher.”

“Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a show to get to,” a voice says down to them. Alex looks up at their driver, who laughs at their blushed cheeks before continuing on to the front of the bus.

Jack gets up first and helps Alex to his feet. Their fingers tangle together as they make a sleepy walk back to the bus. “Stay with me tonight?” Jack asks in a whisper once they’re back inside and the ground starts to rumble gently below their feet.

Alex nods and lets Jack guide them toward the bunks. He hits the light switch as he passes it. “You know, if you keep getting taller, one day it’s going to be physically impossible to fit both of us in there.”

“I like a challenge,” Jack whispers back in the dark before dropping into the bunk. Alex follows after and tucks himself into Jack’s side, his head falling to rest in its typical spot on his chest. Alex knows he’ll get too warm in the night and should probably lose the sweatshirt, but the extra layer of Jack relaxes him better than any cup of tea could ever dream of.

“Thanks for stargazing with me,” Alex sighs, the lateness of the hour finally hitting him. Jack reaches down and pulls a blanket over them both.

“Always,” Jack assures him, his arm wrapping around Alex’s waist.

All night long Alex dreams of bright, clear skies full of stars and Jack holding his hand while naming them all.

Love is a thin gold band sitting in a dish beside the sink.

2032, Maryland

They had received the little blue bowl as a fifth anniversary gift from Rian after he had received a call from the two of them at 2AM tipsy and nearly crying because Alex’s wedding band had slipped off while doing the dishes. Rian had been staying at his parents’ place at the time and showed up an hour later, toolbox in hand, to help them find the ring. It’s been another five years since then but it’s still Rian’s favorite story to tell whenever he’s in town and Jack and Alex are hosting a party.

Jack had never had an issue with his ring trying to slip past his knuckle while cleaning up after dinner. But after the scare with Alex’s, he figures there’s no use in testing chance. So after turning on the hot water tap, he places the band into the dish. He sticks his hand under the water and waits for it to warm, knowing it might be a minute or two since he’s pretty sure he heard Alex running the shower a few minutes earlier after returning from the barn.

Married life isn’t what Jack expected it to be. He kind of assumed they would bicker over random tiny things in the way that his parents did. There was a part of him that thought maybe this would be the thing that made him start feeling like an actual grown up, that a ring on his left hand might be the missing piece to the puzzle of feeling like a put together adult. But nothing really changed. They had both been living on the farm during breaks from tour for a couple years by the time Alex finally asked while on a trip to the cabin. So there was no moving around and there really wasn’t a shift in any other part of their lives to work with either. It was like Rian had said during his best man speech: “I mean come on, guys, you’ve basically been married since we graduated high school.”

He had been worried he would be bad at it. Alex had always been better at sitting still than he was. It had been the original reason Jack gravitated toward Alex. No one else had ever known how to calm Jack enough to stop the constant motion in his world for a minute. Guiding words or a hand against his back from Alex had always been the one thing to ground him, whether they were on a long flight or on a stage in front of twenty thousand people. Alex was always the answer.

It doesn’t take long to finish up the dishes. They had cleaned as they went while cooking so it was just a few plates to clear away. After Alex had carried the stack of them to the sink, Jack waved him away in the direction of the living room. Reluctantly, Alex had rolled his eyes and said a quiet thank you before he refilled his wine glass from the bottle in the fridge and wandered out of the room.

Now, Jack turns off the tap and grabs the towel to dry his hands before slipping his ring back. He retrieves his own glass from the dining room and fills it with the white that Alex had picked up for them to try and steps across the hall to join him.

Alex sits curled up in his usual corner of the couch, his glasses slipping toward the end of his nose as he taps against the screen of the tablet in his lap. He scratches at his head in thought and his beanie falls to the cushion behind him. He doesn’t bother reaching for it again. As Jack takes the spot beside him, he smiles at the touch of gray in Alex’s roots that show through the faded purple he’s had for a while. Jack’s been trying to get him to embrace his graceful aging for ages, but he admires Alex’s very punk insistence on hiding the silver hairs below blues and pinks.

“What are you working on?” Jack asks. He lets his head fall to rest against Alex’s shoulder after setting his glass on the coffee table.

“Mark said the Sunday puzzle was fun this week so I’m giving it a shot,” Alex replies without looking up from the screen. “I forget ‘fun’ in his words means really fucking hard, though.”

“He’s a very smart boy,” Jack says, thoughtfully.

“The smartest.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes while Alex tries out different options for 16 across. Eventually, he sighs and hits the button to lock the screen. He replaces the tablet with his glass of wine, and they adjust so Jack sits between Alex’s legs with his head resting against Alex’s chest. Most evenings end like this these days when they’re not out on tour. It’s Jack’s favorite part of the day. Sometimes they both sit and work through a couple chapters of whatever book they each picked up recently. Sometimes they watch a movie. But they’re always together in this room as the sunset turns to twilight, and it’s something Jack is grateful for.

The dim room lights up bright as lightning flashes outside and a low roll of thunder follows a few moments later. Jack closes his eyes and focuses on the sound of the rain hitting the porch just beyond the window. “Everybody all closed up out of the storm out there?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex says, pausing to take a sip from his glass. “They went in without any complaint. They must have sensed it coming.”

Jack hums in agreement. Alex grabs Jack’s free hand and brings them up to rest against Jack’s chest. It’s strange, Jack thinks sometimes, how much he’s grown to love the moments of silence with Alex. Growing up, their world had been so loud and busy. He thinks maybe that’s what taught them to so easily find moments of peace with one another. Short moments in venue dressing rooms before they took the stage all around the world and the tour bus back lounge were all they really had. And the buzz of tour never really stops ringing in their ears when they’re out on the road. It’s been a good change though here, that they don’t have so much noise to fight to find moments where they can sit with only the sound of a late summer storm and their own breathing.

It’s nice, Jack thinks, that they’ve really gotten the best of both worlds in that sense. They’re settled down enough that their mothers both still find casual ways to ask about grandchildren at Sunday brunch. But they also still get to go out on the road with Rian and Zack and play loud rock shows to seas of jumping, singing fans. Jack had worried for a while about those two sides coexisting. He’s thankful they’ve managed it so well.

Outside the storm rages on, the wind changing direction and slapping more rain against the window. Every so often, storms like this still set Jack on edge, despite how he’s lived through probably hundreds of them at this point in his life. If the thunder is just a little bit too loud or the lightning too bright, sometimes he swears he can feel the wind shaking the windows. It’s in those moments that Alex will grab his hand like he’s doing now and tap his fingers back and forth against Jack’s knuckles. It’s the same thing he’s done since they were out on Warped Tour at twenty years old, weathering out storms from the bus somewhere in Florida or Chicago. Some things never really change, Jack’s learned over the years.

“We still need to get up early to stop by the farmer’s market for flowers for my parents’ anniversary and that honey your mom wanted,” Alex says as he sits up, signalling for Jack to do the same. He moves to stand and reaches a hand out to Jack. “Want to call it an early night?”

“You read my mind,” Jack says with a yawn as he accepts Alex’s hand.

They wander through the house, hitting light switches as they go and checking to make sure they locked all the doors. The walls they pass are lined with plaques from band things and family photos and art collected over the years. Jack’s always liked how much they have hanging on the walls. He likes that their home tells their story.

They part ways when they make it upstairs to their bedroom, Alex heading for the bathroom and Jack for the closet. Jack changes quickly from the t-shirt he’s been wearing all day into something a bit more soft and worn to sleep in. He wanders back across the room and leans against the doorframe, just watching Alex place his ring into a dish that matches the one downstairs in the kitchen (Rian had bought a matching set because he’s always been the smart one among them) before reaching for his face wash.

Married life isn’t what Jack expected it to be. For most of his life, given the whirlwind that it’s been since they hit the road as teenagers, Jack has never known what to expect with anything. He stopped trying to set expectations for most things a long time ago. He thinks he likes it that way though. He likes not really knowing what comes next. He knows he’ll be happy and he’ll never have to do it alone.

And, as he watches Alex examine the band on his fourth finger missing the rest of the glowy summer tan he gets from hours outside with the horses, he’s pretty sure that’s all that really matters.

#jalex #jalex fic #this is longer for me btw #like 6.5k #so not long compared to most of u dudes but i'm proud of this one lol #again i'm sorry for two back to back fic posts lol #just rlly wanted to update my masterlist #lol

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lady-of-the-lotus · 3 years

Text

WHASTA DAT TONGUE DO?: Jiang Cheng x Jar Jar Wedding Night

There are some stories the world needs told.

This is not one of those stories.

Here it is anyway.

Jar Jar removes his inner robe, and Jiang Cheng inhales sharply.

He’s beautiful.

Every inch of the tall, stately Gungan is pure perfection.

Jarcheng - E - Read on AO3!!! 1st Fic - 1st Fic podfic

* * * * * NSFW * * * * *

The sun sinks beneath the distant mountains, painting the sky with a riot of pink and gold as the river settles in for the night.

The moon rises slowly as the sky darkens. The brilliant silver disc fills the star-studded sky, faintly illuminating the room with silver radiance and infusing everything it touches with a sense of peace.

A night bird hoots in the distance.

The breeze rustles through the treetops.

Lying in bed, Jiang Cheng closes his eyes, savoring the stillness even as his heart pounds in delicious anticipation.

“HEYO! MEESA SHU JIANGA CHENGI! DID YOUSA MISS MEESA?” Jar Jar Binks stands in the doorway of the bridal suite, arms filled with wildflowers. “LOOKY WHAT MEESA BROUGHT MEESA BOOTIFUL HUBBY!”

He locks the door and strides across the room to where Jiang Cheng is lying in bed. As always while watching his husband, Jiang Cheng is struck by the Gungan’s effortless grace, by the grandeur of his noble bearing, by the majestic flapping of his vast ears as his entire body bobs up and down like a tall, handsome stork.

“HAIR, JIANGA CHENGI! A LOB FOR MEESA MELLI SHU!”

“Thank you, A-Jar.” Jiang Cheng accepts the bouquet with a bashful smile, marveling again at what a captivating creature his husband is. He buries his face in the flowers, inhaling their sweet aroma. “They’re very beautiful.” Almost as beautiful as you are, he wants to add, but he’s still shy about saying things like that. Instead, he plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it under one of Jar Jar’s impressively fan-like ears.

Jar Jar giggles, coyly batting his bulbous yellow eyes. “OH, JIANGA CHENGI, YOUSA SO CUTE! LIKE DHA ITTY-BITTY FROGS IN LAKE PAONGA!” Leaning forward, he kisses Jiang Cheng, the tip of his long pink tongue just brushing Jiang Cheng’s.

A sudden rush of heat turns Jiang Cheng’s body into a blazing inferno of desire.

“Are you ready, A-Jar?” he asks, almost pants.

“AM YOUSA READY, MEESA BEAUTIFUL JIANGA CHENGI?” Jar Jar responds seductively. “MEESA’VE BEEN READY SINCE DHA MOMENT MEESA SAW YOUSA! MEESA JUST WANT TO MAKEN SHU TO YOUSA AND MAKEN YOUSA SMILIN AND TAKEN CARE OF YOUSA DHA GUNGAN WAY!”

Dha Gungan way. Jiang Cheng shivers with anticipation at the words. Dha Gungan way…

With teasing slowness, Jar Jar removes his red and gold wedding robes, one layer at a time. Jiang Cheng is in an agony of suspense as he watches, arousal burgeoning with greater and greater urgency as each layer reveals another enticing glimpse of moist orange skin.

“Faster!” Jiang Cheng begs. “Please!”

“WELL EXSQUEEZE MEESA!” Jar Jar wags a playful finger at him. “HOW WUDE! JUST FOR DAT, MEESA’LL GOS SLOWER!”

Jiang Cheng groans to himself, his mouth suddenly dry. He’s been waiting for this moment for months.

Months of anticipation, of fantasizing, of dreaming of the moment when A-Jar would fully be his—

Jar Jar removes his inner robe, and Jiang Cheng inhales sharply.

He’s beautiful.

Every inch of the tall, stately Gungan is pure perfection.

His narrow shoulders.

His muscular orange legs with their thick, meaty ankles.

The saggy yellow-white skin on his chest and inner thighs.

The blue nails of his saucer-like feet.

His buttocks, like two large, firm oranges wedged tightly together.

The meaty flesh dangling between his legs, like an awe-inspiring carrot.

He’s truly breathtaking.

Jiang Cheng only hopes he can live up to Jar Jar’s expectations in return.

Trying to hide his shyness, Jiang Cheng pulls invitingly at the bedcovers beside him.

“OHO, JIANGA CHENGI! MEESA BEAUTIFUL HUBBY!” Jar Jar climbs in beside him. “CAN YOUSA BELIEVE IT? WEESA HERE!”

Jiang Cheng reaches out and traces Jar Jar’s delicately-ridged neck with his finger, trailing his fingertips up over Jar Jar’s delicately curved throat and along his jaw.

Jar Jar trembles with pleasure as Jiang Cheng touches his ear.

“You like that, A-Jar?” Jiang Cheng whispers.

“MEESA LIKEN DAT BERRY MUI! A GUNGAN’S EARS ARE BOMBAD SENSITIVE!” As if unable to contain himself any longer, Jar Jar rips Jiang Cheng’s inner robe off, tearing the delicate red silk. He slides his large orange hand over Jiang Cheng’s chest, and Jiang Cheng swallows hard at the feel of the cool, clammy skin, at the sight of the beautiful blue nails against his own pale skin. “DO IT AGAIN, MEESA SHU!”

Jiang Cheng slips a hand around Jar Jar’s long narrow face and licks his ear.

Jar Jar releases a shuddering sigh. “PLEASE DON’T BE STOPPIN! YOUSA TONGUEY FEELEN LIKE AN ITTY-BITTY WORMY MAKIN SHU TO MEESA EAR!"

Paying back Jar Jar’s excruciating slowness in undressing, Jiang Cheng slowly runs his tongue along the length of Jar Jar’s ear, relishing how scaly the skin feels, the batwing-like ridges, the moans of pleasure Jar Jar releases with each teasing swipe.

Jiang Cheng’s own pleasure pump rises higher and higher with each toe-curling moan, until it stands tall and straight like the mast of a proud ship ready to set sail.

Jar Jar, ever attentive to his husband, notices right away.

“OHO, MOOLE MOOLE! LOOKY LIKE LITTLE JIANGA CHENGI IS COM OUT TO PLAY WITH MEESA PADDLEWOMPER!” He grins at Jiang Cheng, the moonlight glinting off his tombstone-like teeth and making his yellow eyes shine like opals. “MEBBE NOT SO LITTLE, HUR HUR! DHA THIRD PRIDE OF YUNMENG, INDEEDY!"

"You're not too bad yourself," Jiang Cheng mumbles, blushing.

“ISA OUR NEW FRIEND READY FOR SPLISHY-SPLASHY, AS WEESA CALLS IT ON NABOO?”

Jiang Cheng nods, blushing harder, and Jar Jar’s tongue shoots out, wrapping itself around the Third Pride of Yunmeng.

Jiang Cheng gasps as Jar Jar’s thick, pliant tongue wraps itself around the most sensitive part of him, the slippery wetness squeezing tighter and tighter, jerking up and down until he comes with a cry. As he comes, every inch of his body alight with pleasure, he reflexively bites down on Jar Jar’s thick, rubbery ear.

Jar Jar releases a long, resonant, and utterly titillating honking noise.

As soon as Jiang Cheng is spent, spluttering out onto A-Jar’s tongue, he starts to apologize, only to be stopped when something sticky squirts up at him.

Jar Jar’s cum is thick and yellow, with a fragment smell reminiscent of delicately-rotting fish. The precious fluid is splattered over Jiang Cheng’s face, dripping from his upper lip and into his mouth. Jiang Cheng licks his lips, trying to catch as much of the delicious liquid as possible.

“OHO MEESA SHU, MEESA BOMBAD SHAMED! MEESA DIDN’T MEAN FOR DAT TO BE HAPPENEN!” Jar Jar looks down at himself, eyes wide. “ITSA JUST BEEN A LONGO TIME, THAT'S ALL!” The sweet fishy liquid is still dribbling down A-Jar’s glorious “Paddlewomper,” and, seized by a sudden fit of desire even greater than the fiery passion he’d already burned with, Jiang Cheng leans down and licks Paddlewomper’s long orange side, then slides the enormous girth into his mouth and sucks hard, straining to extract every last drop of the delectable liquid from the hot slick tube of erotic delights.

“OIE BOIE! DAT FEELS SO BERRY GOOD, MEESA SHU! DON’TEN BE STOPPIN!”

Jiang Cheng raises his head. His cheeks are pink, eyes hot. “I feel—I feel—” He pounces on Jar Jar, peppering his face with kisses as he grinds his groin into the ravishing Gungan’s shapely leg. “What is this, A-Jar? What’s happening to me?”

“OHO! MEESA THINK MEESA KNOW!” Jar Jar’s opalescent yellow eyes are wide. “DERE’S AN OLD GUNGAN TELLO DAT GUNGAN SQUEEZLE IS MAKEN BOMBAD DESIRE FOR HUMANS, BUT MEESA NOSA BELIEVED IT! AND NOW IT SEEM LIKEN IT BE WORKEN DHA OTHER WAY ROUND TOO!”

Jiang Cheng’s response comes in the form of a whimpering moan. “A-Jar—A-Jar—I need more, A-Jar—I need more—”

In a flash, Jiang Cheng is flipped over onto his stomach. Jar Jar’s strong hands raise him up onto all fours, one hand around the Third Pride of Yunmeng, his other hand firmly around Jiang Cheng’s chest, holding him in place. A squelching sound, and one of Jar Jar’s thick fingers enters Jiang Cheng’s love canal, preparing him for the entrance of Jar Jar’s meaty paddlewomper.

“DISA OIL SMELLEN GOOD! ONLY DHA BEST FOR MEESA SHU! SPECIAL LOTUS SEED OIL TO HELPEN DHA WAY!”

Jiang Cheng grips the silken bed sheets as Jar Jar’s thick finger grazes the pleasure pod nestled deep within his secret place. “A-Jar—oh, A-Jar—“

Jar Jar’s paddlewomper enters him with a single quick thrust, stretching Jiang Cheng around its enormous girth. Jiang Cheng cries out at the delightful intrusion, spreading his legs slightly to allow his husband's powerful Gunganhood to enter him more fully. Jar Jar thrusts forward, sliding his thick paddlewhomper in and out of Jiang Cheng, faster and faster as the flame of their fiery passion grows into an erotic inferno of desire.

“OHO, JIANGA CHENGI, MEESA NEVER WANTS TO LETTEN YOUSA GOS!!”

Desperate for more friction, Jiang Cheng rocks his hips, grinding down into Jar Jar's hand. “Harder, A-Jar, harder—”

Jiang Cheng is cut off by a hot slick something sliding inside his open mouth, filling his throat with wet, slippery heat.

A-Jar’s tongue. A-Jar’s muscular, alluringly prehensile tongue, pink as a lotus flower, warm as honey on a summer day, wet as the morning grasses bejeweled with warm dew.

Jiang Cheng almost comes on the spot.

Frenzied with desire, Jar Jar thrusts into Jiang Cheng from both ends, the sloppy wet sounds of their lovemaking filling the room like a symphony dedicated to their passion. Jiang Cheng moans around Jar Jar’s mouth-filling tongue as Jar Jar's paddlewhomper plunges deeper and deeper into the very core of his being, activating the tender love button throbbing hotly in his depths.

Jar Jar spills himself inside Jiang Cheng, marking the innermost recesses of Jiang Cheng’s being with proof of his passion. At the feel of the wet heat inside him, Jiang Cheng comes too, his erotic instrument shuddering desperately in Jar Jar’s hand and spurting its liquidy cargo over the red silk sheets.

Jar Jar pulls free of Jiang Cheng with a loud wet pop.

“ARE YOUSA OKEY-DOKEY, MEESA SHU?” He peers down into Jiang Cheng’s flushed face. A-Jar’s beautiful yellow eyes are bright, his orange face dark with pleasure and exertion. He is the very symbol of virility, radiating potency and strength. “YOUSA NEEDEN MORE LOTUS SEED OIL OR ISA MEESA SQUEEZLE ENUFF?”

“More?” Jiang Cheng gasps.

“IF YOUSA’RE UP FOR MORE SPLISHY-SPLASHY, MEESA IS TOO!” Jar Jar glances down at his husband. Little Jiang Cheng is already back in firing position, the Gungan aphrodisiac pumping through its master's veins. “Paddlewomper” is standing up too, glistening enticingly in the moonlight and casting a long shadow on the wall.

“Yes, please, please, anything you want—"

“JUST SPAKE ‘DOPWOPEE’ IF YOUSA NOSA LIKEN, OKEEDAY, AND MEESA BE STOPPEN!” And Jar Jar’s tongue shoots out, wrapping itself around Jiang Cheng’s hands and binding his wrists to the bedframe above his head. “YOUSHA LIKEN DISH, MEESHA SHU?” Jar Jar asks around his stretched tongue. "ISHA OKEY-DOKEY?"

“Yes, yes, please—”

“AHA, MEESHA ITTY-BITTY LOTUSH FLOWER ISHA EAGER! MEESHA LIKEN TO SHEE IT!” With a coquettish toss of his ears, Jar Jar raises one of Jiang Cheng’s legs onto his shoulder and, coating his magnificent paddlewomper with more fragrant lotus seed oil, thrusts deep inside his husband with a juicy squelching sound.

Back arching, Jiang Cheng strains at his slippery pink bonds. “Don’t stop, A-Jar, never stop—”

It’s almost dawn before either of them are satisfied. The bed broke somewhere between their fifth and sixth rounds, and now they lie in the sticky tangle of sheets on the floor, hand in hand.

“YOUSA HAPPY, MEESA SHU?” Jar Jar asks Jiang Cheng, smoothing his sweaty hair away from his face. “ALL BEING GOOD? NOSA OUCHIES?”

Jiang Cheng laughs. His throat is sore from hours of screaming in the throes of carnal ecstasy, his feet are cramping from all the toe-curling, his back hurts from when the bed collapsed, he’s dehydrated, chafed inside and out, and limp as a wet rag, but despite that he’s filled with a sense of bone-deep peace.

“Nosa ouchies, A-Jar,” he says.

And there never will be, not ever again. Not ones that truly matter.

Not so long as he has A-Jar beside him.

Snuggling up against his husband, Jiang Cheng falls asleep.

* * * *

TANKEN FOR READING!! COMMENTS MAKEN MEESA BERRY SMILIN! DON'T BE SHY!!

#jiang cheng #jarcheng #jar jar binks #jar jar #I did tell you you could block the tag so you have no one but yourself to blame here #lotus after dark

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beyondcanon · 3 years

Text

fanfic: a family wedding

wow. what a wild ride. how much i missed writing and didn’t even realize.

wynonna earp/wayhaught. Waverly and Nicole’s wedding turns everyone into a bridezilla. Complete. Read on AO3.

Read Chapter One

ii.

Jeremy is wearing all black, with an earpiece and clippings, fussing over a gigantic ice swan being carried by four large men/demons.

The statue wobbles and he squirms. "Careful!"

"You are not going to ruin this marriage, people! C'mon!"

The same old, beat-up blue pickup truck arrives, boxes and more boxes perched on top. Wynonna opens the door, leather jacket glistening in the cold autumn sun. The wind blows her hair like a L'oreal ad and she takes off her sunglasses in slow motion.

"Nothing can go wrong with this amount of booze, Jeremy." She smiles, licking her upper lip and tapping the pickup's ceiling three times. "Trust me."

"I'll believe it when I see it and complete a thorough inventory."

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but there's no bite to it, much like getting used to your family's quirks as a destiny. She sips from her flask. "As long as I get quality control duty."

The bright sun wakes Nicole, stretching over her skin. She grunts and turns to find the other side of the bed... empty? Cold?

"Waverly?" Eyes darting open and reaching for her gun under her bed, she sits up in a rush.

Her soon-to-be-wife is sitting on the armchair, painting her toenails. The sun creates a halo across her hair; she smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "Morning, baby."

Nicole lets out a shaky breath and hides her gun again. "Sorry, I-" She scoots closer to the edge of the bed. "I got scared for a moment."

Waverly offers her a soft, soft look. The soft pink robe reaches the floor as she walks the few steps between them. "I woke at the crack of dawn and couldn't sleep, thinking about marrying my best girl."

Hands on Waverly's hips, Nicole pulls her closer to stand between her legs. "Excited?"

"I painted my nails and did my eyebrows and my hair was such a mess," Waverly straddles Nicole's lap, "I had to do something about it, and then I re-wrote my vows twice, first in my head and then on a piece of paper, which I hid it from your curious eyes." She chuckles when Nicole hides her face in the crook of her neck and takes a deep breath.

"And here I was, thinking someone would wake up with a hangover."

"Never." Waverly huffs, squeezing Nicole's shoulders. "Then I started thinking about you, pretty face and great butt, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. You looked so cute and I want to marry you already," she whines.

Nicole pulls back and takes a long moment to look at Waverly's face, hand placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What are you thinking?" Waverly tries to read her expression and fails. "Are you having second thoughts?" Her eyes widen and Nicole blinks three times. The words stalling falling from her mouth in quick succession, barely a shred of a second to think, "Because that's totally normal for the bride or groom to get really nervous with such a big decision, and we decided to spend the night together so there's no one to calm you down besides me, which isn't going to help much, because I'm the girl that got you stuck here with a big responsibility and a ring on your hand and I-"

She's so cute. Nicole smiles and kisses her, gentle and sweet, one hand cupping Waverly's cheek. It does get her to stop babbling.

"I love you." She joins their foreheads and Waverly takes a deep breath, still a pout on her lower lip. She licks and kisses the pout away, scratching the back of Waverly's neck until she lets out the little sigh Nicole knows so well. "Wherever you go, I go. This is it, baby. You and me."

A loud knock startles them both. "Are you decent?"

Nicole grunts and throws her body back on the bed.

"And Wynonna." Waverly laughs. "Come in!"

Bottle in hand and reeking of whiskey, Wynonna stumbles in.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. "It's 10 am."

Wynonna waves and scoff. "I have something important to say." She stops in the middle of the room and looks at Waverly and Nicole.

"I don't want you to move out." She takes a deep breath. "I like having both of you around. It's... better. Safer. We haven't talked about it, but I know you're probably planning to move to Nicole's-"

"Hey," Waverly answers like she's trying not to scare a kitten. She gets up and gets closer to her sister. "You're not losing me."

"Us." Nicole sits up on the bed.

Wynonna takes a gulp and winces. "We can fix the house, get you more room, better locks, soundproof the entire place, anything you want."

"Wynonna," Waverly whispers, a hand on her sister's arm and eyes watering.

"We built something good, baby girl." Wynonna sighs. "All of us. Together."

Nicole looks at Waverly and they have an entire conversation between them.

She gets up to stand in front of Wynonna. "We'll always fight by your side." She grabs the bottle as Wynonna tries to take another sip. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

Wynonna takes the bottle back and shrugs. "Whatever. Just... think about it. It's not like I'm charging you rent or anything."

Waverly goes in for a hug, but Wynona scurries away without closing the door.

"That was..." Nicole breathes out. "Unexpected."

Wynonna peaks her head on the door. "I'm dealing with a lot of shit." She drinks from her bottle and leaves again.

The kitchen is a mess of pans, pots, and seasonings.

Rachel points at the table. "I've made you breakfast. Doc said you both need a full stomach to start the day." She shrugs like she doesn't even care. "He also said he expects you for Best Cowboy duties in 30min."

Waverly claps and does a little jump. "What are we having?"

"Vegan chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled tofu, tea, and a green smoothie for you." She places on the table a procession of dishes. "Real eggs with bacon, a cappuccino, and french toast for Nicole because she doesn't need to suffer the indignity of eating vegan on her wedding day."

They take a seat. "It looks amazing." Nicole smiles. "Thank you, Rachel."

"Yeah." Rachel grunts, taking powdered sugar and finishing the pancakes. "I figured I was your best shot at eating something edible."

It tastes every bit as good as it looks.

Nicole pulls Waverly by the waist until they are flush against one another. "Good luck with the best ladies." She steals a kiss, and then another.

"Good luck with the Best Cowboy." Waverly smiles, coy, messing with the lapel of Nicole's jacket. "Don't do anything too crazy."

Nicole could kiss the daylights out of her. "Can't wait to see you in a wedding dress."

"Oh, you're going to love it." Waverly's voice drops two octaves too low and Nicole shivers. "Later, gator." She pushes Nicole out the door and enters the house giggling.

Nicole looks around the front yard filled with people coming and going. Doc arrives from a distance.

She jumps when Mercedes screeches, further terrorizing the catering crew. "Unacceptable! Don't you people know how to fold a cloth napkin properly?"

She demonstrates three times and makes them prepare and place each one to perfection. A young boy tires and folds the wrong way.

Mercedes hisses. "I will kill you and your whole family."

The boy gets it right the second time.

Nicole mouths an apologetic "She doesn't mean it," even though she knows Mercedes does very much mean it.

Doc arrives, thankfully. "Let me take you away from the madness, Sheriff." He opens Charlene's door for Nicole.

"Not a moment too soon." Nicole jumps in.

Nedley, clean-shaven and dressed in a handsome wool suit, is waiting for them at Shorty's. "I took the liberty of getting the first round started." He points to the drinks on the counter.

"You know how to please a man," Doc sighs and takes his hat off, downing his whiskey in one gulp.

If that man isn't Wynonna's soulmate, no one is.

"How are you feeling?" Nedley helps Nicole out of her coat. "Getting the jitters?"

"Not really." Nicole walks with him towards the booze. "I wish the wedding started already. I can't wait."

"Young love." Nedley gives her a knowing smile. "Just a couple more hours, darling."

Nicole smiles back and grabs her drink.

The phone rings across the room.

Nicole rushes to it. "Is everything okay?"

"No demon, Sheriff." Wynonna scoffs. "With Peacemaker and Rosita, we're more than covered. Your girl, however, is having a little freak-out."

Waverly can be heard in the background. "I am perfectly reasonable!"

"Could you tell your woman you still want to marry her?"

Nicole bites back a smile. "Sure."

A moment later: "Hi, sweetie."

"I heard my best girl is having a little freakout."

"Am not."

Nicole can hear the adorable pout in her voice. "I can't wait to be married to your beautiful face, you know." She hums. "Watching you walk down the aisle. Having that ring on your finger."

Waverly sniffs. "Really?"

She overhears Wynonna's fake puking and Waverly's whispered "stop it".

"Mhmm. Celebrating with our family. Carrying you inside the bedroom and having my way with my wife."

Waverly sighs. "It feels so good when you say that."

"Wife. Partner. Love of my life." Nicole's voice is pure honey. "My wife, and no one else's."

Waverly purrs. "I can't wait, too. I bet you look so sharp."

Nicole smiles because she does: brown pants and vest, crisp white shirt, hair down in delicate waves. "I bet you look drop-dead gorgeous."

"Can we get married already?"

"Just one more hour, baby."

No trace of chaos and confusion when Nicole arrives:

Decoration in place, flowers everywhere, ginormous ice swan, blue sky smiling at her.

Jeremy greets them in a dark grey suit, earpiece still in place. "Welcome to your wedding, Nicole."

Arms locked with Doc, she smiles and allows Jeremy to lead them.

The guests stand up — the whole town, in their best Sunday attire.

Doc's firm hand over hers keeps hers from trembling. "One foot in front of the other. That's all there is to it."

The music begins: it’s Ella and Louis' Tenderly.

They walk slow and sure, locking eyes with the crowd as they pass.

The altar they made themselves over two laborious weeks looks perfect.

Nicole takes her place, Doc right behind her.

Heart thumping, mouth dry, she has no idea how much time passes before the music changes to Cheek to Cheek.

Waverly and Wynonna appear, arm in arm.

Waverly waves with a nervous smile, and they lock eyes. This is it.

Yes, Louis, her heart beats so she can hardly speak.

Her dress is so pretty. She's everything Nicole has ever dreamed of.

She dries a stubborn tear or two, breath caught.

Wynonna clears her throat. "Make an honest woman out of my sister, will you?" They take their time in their hug; this time it's not awkward. "I will skin you alive if you do anything to her and I will enjoy it."

"Noted." Nicole chuckles, squeezing Wynonna one last time before stepping back.

She offers a hand to Waverly, who takes it to climb the one step to stand in front of Nicole. "Gorgeous," she mouthes.

Waverly's brown eyes sparkle. "You're here."

She takes Waverly's hands. "I am."

Nedley begins his speech. He talks about union, love, and dedication. All Nicole sees is how Waverly's hair catches the light, the smell of lavender and honey, and the cool autumn breeze against her skin.

The silence falls thick, the air pregnant with expectation.

"Nicole, you turned me inside out since I first met you. Thank God Shorty didn't fix that tap." She gives a bright smile, squeezing Nicole's hand. "I never thought someone so generous, so loving, could exist, and yet here you are, standing in front of me. You give me more than I could ever hope to get out of this life. You see me." She makes a long pause. "I love every part of you. I promise you everything I am."

"Waverly..." She takes a deep breath. "You have the most kind, beautiful soul I have ever met. I'd be crazy if I didn't fall for you, if I didn't fight for us. Every time you look at me, my heart flutters with how much love I carry for you in my whole body." Her voice trembles. "I'll follow you wherever you go. I'll choose you, again and again, and again, as long as you'll have me. You are my destiny."

She slides the ring on Waverly's finger with trembling hands.

Waverly draws a sharp breath before taking the other ring and doing the same.

Nedley declares them officially married.

"Finally," Nicole sighs. She pulls Waverly close, turning and bending her backward before giving her a deep kiss.

The crowd cheers, fireworks exploding in the sky.

The food looks amazing, but Nicole wouldn't know.

It's a flurry of movement: greeting guests, shaking hands, Jeremy taking hundreds of photos.

Wynonna grabs the microphone and announces: "Let's get this party started!"

Rachel presses play and I Put a Spell on You comes on.

With a mischievous look, Waverly rips her dress to reveal a cooler, shorter dress underneath.

Nicole takes off her vest, throws it on Wynonna's face, and opens three buttons on her white shirt.

Waverly takes a few steps back, hips moving to the beat and finger calling Nicole forward.

She pretends to be busy rolling her sleeves up, eyes never leaving her wife.

Shoulders moving, steps in quick succession, Nicole follows. They circle each other, smiles broad and malicious.

One, two, three slow steps. Nicole pulls Waverly flush against her.

Waverly pushes her away and turns, only to be pulled back again.

That perfect ass grinds against Nicole, hand reaching to the back of her neck, "Just wait until I'm alone with you," she whispers in Waverly's ear and feels her shiver.

She grabs the hand on her neck and uses it to turn Waverly back to her again, bodies moving together in perfect sync.

"When you do," Waverly tells her, hungry eyes and lips parted, "you'll find I'm not wearing any panties."

Nicole almost misses a step.

The party roars, booze flowing. Rachel's impeccable setlist keeps everyone high, horny, and in the mood.

Soaked in whiskey and sweat, Nicole dances with her wife. A hand holds her glass up, a firm palm spread on Waverly's lower back, hips moving together.

She's everything Nicole can see, smell, feel.

Foreheads together, Waverly mouths the music against Nicole's lips, breaths mingling. Arms around Nicole's neck, she leans back, exposing that sexy neck and a dirty smile.

Nicole wastes no time kissing her pulse point, teasing with her teeth. Waverly grabs her hair, pulling her closer, whimpering.

"Baby," Nicole soothes the skin with her tongue. "I need to have you."

She gets a breathy moan. "And how are we going to make that happen?"

In the middle of her haze, Nicole assesses their surroundings. The house is filled with people to the brim, the front yard is full of people making out...

The music thumps on, muffled in the background.

Waverly jumps on Nicole, who promptly grabs her thighs and pushes her against the barn door. "My wife," she groans over and over again between kisses, biting Waverly's lower lip.

Waverly wraps her legs even tighter around Nicole's waist, grabbing her hair. "Baby, please." They moan in each other's mouths when their tongues meet, and it's not enough. "I need you three fingers deep, right now."

Nicole grunts, throbbing with want, taking Waverly to a pile of hay and settling on top of her. "Anything my girl wants," she pulls the dress down to kiss those perfect breasts, "she will get it." Her mouth latches on a nipple, sucking and biting and pulling just how Waverly likes it.

Waverly whines, nails sinking on Nicole's back. She spreads her legs further, so willing, dress riding up her thighs.

"You're so wet." Nicole sighs, running a slow finger through Waverly's folds. "Is that all for me?"

Waverly gasps and pulls Nicole closer. "All for you, baby. Just for you."

Nicole can't deny her any longer, two fingers slipping inside.

"Yes yes yes-", Waverly moans, hips canting when Nicole picks up the pace. "More, baby, more."

Gasping for air, Nicole adds a third finger. "So good," she mumbles, "So tight." Her voice strained, watching Waverly biting her lower lip in pure bliss.

She gets faster, rougher, taking it almost all out before thrusting inside again, feeling her wife pulsing around her fingers.

"You fuck me so good, baby," Waverly gasps, holding on to Nicole's shirt for dear life. "Only you," she moans, again and again.

"All mine." Nicole curls her fingers, hard kisses on Waverly's neck, as her wife gets even tighter, wetter, more desperate.

Waves comes with a sharp cry, tears falling, back arching.

Nicole stays inside her, kissing her earlobe softly as she whimpers.

"So good." Waverly kisses her lazy and slow, whimpering when Nicole takes her fingers away. "So good." She sighs, taking Nicole's hands and dutifully licking her fingers.

Nicole groans when Waverly starts sucking. "Don't make me fuck you again."

Waverly smiles. "Counting on that, baby."

Nicole leans in for another kiss.

Wynonna barges into the barn with a big, big smile. "Told you so!"

Waverly and Nicole scramble to cover themselves, behind some wooden boxes.

"Couldn't get past midnight, could you lovebirds?" She wiggles her eyebrows before leaving. "Pay up, losers!"

"Man, couldn't they wait another hour?" She hears Rosita. "I was counting on the money."

"Tell me about it. Could have been one hour earlier." Is that Doc? "Take it."

Nicole rolls her eyes, a grin on the corner of her mouth.

Waverly bumps shoulders with Nicole. "That's the life you chose." She starts getting dressed.

Nicole watches, everything else fading to the background. "It's the life I chose," she agrees, admiring the lean back of her wife and how her tousled hair moves.

Waverly reads her eyes and giggles, offering her hand. "C'mon, there's a whole party waiting for us."

Nicole closes the buttons on her shirt and lets Waverly pull her up.

She cups her wife's face for a long moment, basking in how she leans into the touch and closes her eyes.

Waverly wraps her arms around her, their breaths in sync.

#wynonna earp #waverly x nicole #wayhaught #nicole haught #fanfic: a family wedding #smut #they can't keep their hands off each other #i will give my babies everything they deserve #you can't stop me

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