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the-californicationist · 5 months

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The Fourth of July

Another gift fic for another awesome friend of mine! Stockings are getting stuffed left and right this year. <3 <3

Alex/FReader - foreign reader, blowjob/Facefuck, spit kink, soft!Alex

You are celebrating your first July 4th with Alex and his friends at your brother's lake house. Seeing the booming fireworks, eating hotdogs, and drinking out of those red solo cups - just like the movies - has been so much fun. But, you and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.

MDNI/18+

AO3 Link

When he picked you up for the party, Alex looked like he was Mr. USA. His fluorescent blue swim trunks were short, the hem sitting high on his huge, muscular thighs, showing off his carbon fiber leg. The arms of his old Army tee shirt were sliced open, giving you a view of his endless, tanned skin. His ribs and abs rippled beneath the surface as he parked the Silverado in the road and hopped out of it to greet you.

You’d never wanted to run your hands through a shock of hair so badly in your life, buried under a bright red trucker cap with the bill turned backwards. He was smacking his gum loudly, and he was already sunburnt across his nose.

“Hey, there. You ready for some freedom?”

You smiled, enjoying his American accent,

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”

“C’mon. Your brother’s waitin’ for us at the house. Got about fifty pounds of barbeque workin’ on the pit, I’ll bet.”

He grabbed your bag and threw it into the back of his truck before grabbing your arm and helping you into the lifted cab of the vehicle. Your swimsuit coverup billowed in the wind, and he gently gathered it up for you, moving it away so it wouldn’t get caught in the heavy door.

Alex pulled himself into the driver’s seat, flexing his tattooed forearms as he settled into position, gripping the wheel tightly. As you looked closer, you started to notice little scars, nothing major. But, you were always quick to forget what his day job was: CIA war machine. He threw on a pair of hot-pink sunglasses with a floater neck strap attached, and handed you his spare pair. You slipped them on, feeling much cooler than you thought you should. As you pulled onto the road, he cranked up the music until you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

You took the opportunity of being bathed in sound to study him from across the center console of the truck. The landscape of America - strip centers and wooded fields - rushed by you unadmired, and you were trapped by him. You thought you’d gotten away with a long, delicious appraisal, but he flipped his glasses down his nose and peeked over them at you. The look in his eye made you blush.

He turned the music down and stared at you while the huge truck idled at a red light. His voice was nice and even as he asked,

“What are you lookin’ at, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” you tried to be dismissive, playing coy but doing it badly.

An enormous, rough hand grabbed you around your knee,

“Nothin’? Like what you were wearin’ in that snap you sent me last week, nothin’?”

You blushed pink. The light turned green. Alex stayed staring at you, squeezing your leg, until someone behind him honked, and even then he took his sweet time.

“Mmhm,” you said, waiting for his next move as he drove onward, revving the truck’s angry engine.

“Did you tell him yet?” Alex asked, threading his fingers through yours as you captured it from your lap..

“No,” you laughed under your breath, “I think you’d have known by now if I had.”

He laughed with you, readjusting his cap,

“I think I’d have a black eye by now.”

You grimaced in reply, knowing your brother’s temper. He wouldn’t be thrilled to see you flirting with his best friend from when he was enlisted. Alex saw you frown, and he held your hand a little tighter, saying,

“Worth it.”

You drew in a tight breath and looked over at him. His gaze stayed on the road this time, pushing the speed limit, taking the exit to the lake.

You’d known Alex Keller ever since your brother moved to Clearwater. Your brother, Charlie, had studied at university and he had fallen in love with a man who was in Alex’s old regiment. They’d gotten married, and now, Charlie had his green card and everything. All of Alex’s friends and army buddies had brought Charlie into the fold. He was even driving a Ford F-150 these days. If it wasn’t for his Kiwi accent, he could’ve passed as a true American.

You tried to come over to see Charlie and his husband, Greg, every summer. But, with the restrictions in place, it had been a few years. This would be a happy reunion as long as he didn’t discover the relationship blooming between you and his best friend, Alex.

It had been an accident, really. Charlie had lost his phone, and Alex had called you by accident, trying to find it. Then, you had just…kept calling. They were late night talks for you, and early morning talks for him, but you and Alex just seemed to have so much to say to each other. When he flew out to Urzikstan for dangerous missions, or over to Russia to do God knows what, he would always send you back some little trinkets from his trip.

You knew it was a lie. You knew, in your heart, that he had been over there killing people and saving the world from whatever horrors were terrorizing those deep, dark places. But, when you got a little glass camel figurine in the mail, its box covered in a million stamps, you put it on your window sill and watched the light dance through it like it hadn’t been shipped from some sort of master of war. But, if you were truly honest with yourself, you didn't give a shit.

You’d been talking for about six months now, and the build up to your trip was intense. The anticipation was killing you both. Seeing him now, feeling the bones of his hand in yours as you massaged the tiny muscles inside of his palm, it was all too much. You needed Charlie to understand that you had fallen madly in love with his best friend.

“I think we should tell him,” Alex said, interrupting your thoughts.

“Shit,” you scoffed, “He’s gonna lose it.”

“I don’t want to keep hiding you away. And maybe…” you heard the familiar tones of doubt in his throat, “Maybe I’m not the kind of man your brother wants for you. But, I can be.”

You kissed the back of his hand, letting the tiny hairs tickle your skin. The lake house wasn’t far, but you wanted to reassure him more than just chaste affection.

“I’m eager to see the kind of man you can be,” you turned the seduction up to eleven, hoping he wouldn’t immediately laugh at you.

He didn’t laugh. If anything, other than a flash of panic in his eyes, he didn’t move. He allowed you to flip his hand over, its wide palm facing the sky as you planted kiss after kiss onto his skin. You felt his breathing quicken, rippling through his limbs. Finally, you took his forefinger into your mouth and began to gently suck on its tip. It was salty, and probably unclean, but you didn’t care. You kept going, moving your mouth up and down his thick digit as if it were his cock. And goddamn did you want it to be his cock.

The phone calls had turned flirtatious, and then downright lascivious, in the last few months. Once, while he was hiding in a bunker somewhere in Ukraine, he’d called you, desperate. You listened to him as he pulled hungrily on his cock, letting you listen to the wet slipping sounds of his fist pounding into his skin, searching for release. He’d begged for your mouth. He said it was all he could think about, and the gorgeous little whimpering noises he made had set it in your mind. You dreamed about blowing him for weeks. You thought about how his come would taste when you had been sitting in the terminal and waiting on your plane. You were going to suck the life out of Alex Keller at this fucking party tonight if it was the last thing you ever did.

“Oh,” his voice was shaking and quiet, “Fuuuuuck.”

One more strong suck on his finger and you let him loose, wiping away the wetness with your hand, lacing your fingers back through his as if nothing had happened.

His breathing was ragged, and his hand was trembling. The lake house was just up ahead, and as Alex pulled into the drive, he took his hand back from your grip to adjust his growing cock. It looked heavy, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Holy shit,” he sighed, “Charles is gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let him,” you smiled.

“That mouth…” he was still turned on, and his voice was deepened by his arousal.

“Wait til you see what else it can do,” you grinned and popped open your door to greet Charlie.

Your brother was in a black apron and carrying a set of tongs. He was at least six and a half feet tall and built like an ox. The back of his neck was red from the sun, and he wore his hair up in a poorly coiffed bun. You shut the truck door and he turned around. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he shouted your name across the yard.

“Kia ora, sister. Look at you! How’s the Air B&B?”

Charlie held you close to his body, hugging you so tight that it hurt. You let it hurt.

“Fine. I’m starving.”

“It’s coming. Where’s Alex?”

“Grabbing the bags, I think.”

You turned back around and watched as Alex bent into the truck bed and pulled your bag out along with his. He’d let his sunglasses fall around his neck and walked over to you and Charlie.

“Charles,” Alex smiled, dropping a bag to shake your brother’s hand.

“Alex, thanks for picking her up. Greg and the boys are down at the dock.”

You spent the day jet skiing and swimming with Alex and all of your brother’s friends. The girlfriends and wives and husbands all introduced themselves, or reintroduced themselves if they had met you before, and Alex stuck by your side through it all. He could have easily abandoned you to go on the fishing trip that most of the other men were keen to take, or he could have hung around Charlie all day since it had been months since they’d seen each other, too. But, he didn’t. He seemed to know that you didn’t want to be alone, and he held you to him in as much as he dared.

It would be a lie, though, if you two didn’t admit to sharing a stray touch or even a kiss every now and then. You kept finding excuses to be alone together.

Finally, it was nearly fireworks time, and Greg was setting up the array of them. The purple dusk was just settling on the horizon, and you and Alex had front-row seats. He had brought you another icy beer from the cooler, and a towel from inside the house to sit on. You’d positioned yourselves right next to the small pool house, a little away from the crowd.

The pool house was little more than a small bedroom and a toilet, but it was big enough to block anyone from seeing you two from behind. That way, if someone was looking at you, you’d know it. The excitement of hiding your affection from everyone was exhilarating.

You had worn your bright pink triangle bikini, and Alex had spent most of the day staring at it. You’d even made him retie the bows a few times, just to torture him. Once, he’d even managed to swipe a finger over your nipple, so you knew that once everyone’s eyes were focused on the exploding sky, it was on.

Other houses on the lake were popping their own fireworks, and there was a man who was famous for his end-of-the-night show. As Charlie lit more and more of the small ones, you noticed the other houses following suit. It was pretty, and every time a mortar cracked in the sky, you could feel it in your chest.

Once it became dark enough, you started to rub your hand up and down Alex’s bare thigh. He scooted closer and closer to you like a dog begging for more pets. You obliged him, running your fingers higher and higher until you were disturbing the hem of his shorts. Then, you went for it.

He felt you move your hand to the warm flesh between his legs, and he whispered,

"No, no, wait...oh, fuck..."

You put your hand through the stretchy leg of the nylon trunks and searched for his heavy cock and balls. You ignored his dick at first, rubbing his balls gently, moving them around in your hand, massaging them and feeling his dick fighting for attention above your wrist.

“Holy fucking shit, woman,” he hissed, fidgeting in his seat, his eyes turned skyward as he gasped as quietly as he could.

“You enjoying the show?” You asked, acting very casual.

“Enjoying…Jesus Christ,” Alex furrowed his brow at you and wiped a hand down his face. His eyes shone blue and then green and then red as the colors burst above you.

Finally, you wrapped your fingers around his swollen rod, nearly three times as large as it had been soft, and started to pump up and down slowly and deliberately. He let out a trembling breath.

“Baby, baby, baby, please…ah, please.”

“What do you need, Alex?” You whispered, kissing his neck, “Tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“I need your mouth, baby. Please, I’ll do anything,” he kissed you back, his mustache and beard tickling your skin, sending chills down your arms.

You looked over your shoulder at the pool house, and he followed your gaze. Then, you looked back down at the dock and saw Charlie and Greg untangling a huge fireworks display. You had time.

“C’mon,” you stood up quietly and opened up the door to the pool house.

The two of you snuck in and shut it behind you, still able to see through the small skylight as the fireworks were going off outside. You didn’t wait for him to get settled. In fact, you grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him into the small room, sinking to your knees on the well-worn rug. You looped your fingers in the waistband of his shorts, and pulled them down. His cock flagged free, bobbing up and down, and he was as hard as a stone.

“Holy fuck! Wait, wait…oh, fuck!” He tried to catch his balance, and set his hands on your shoulders.

You stared at his hard length, admiring the velvety smoothness of his skin, looking at his bare, pink head. You could see the scar from his circumcision, and you ran your tongue along the dark line of skin, licking him up and onto his plump, uncovered head. The sound he made from your first contact would be burned into your brain forever. It was a low, dark growl mixed with a sigh that seemed like he had just been relieved from carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Maybe he had.

You took him into your mouth achingly slowly, looking up at him the entire time you did so, watching his face contort into different stages of blissful agony. He had one hand in his hair, pulling on it at the roots, his hat knocked back, looking like he was in shock. You swallowed him deeper, opening and closing your throat with swallow after swallow, making more and more drool pool in your mouth as you did until it was running out of your lips and down onto your chest.

Then, you began to bob your head back and forth along as much of his length as you could take, choking yourself with it until it hurt just a little. You tried to relax. You wanted to show him that you could take it all, that you could be his relief.

You focused on his head, running your tongue over its crest, tasting his salty precome as you lapped over his hole, rubbing the slick back and bumpy front of your tongue across it over and over and over. You used your hand to pump him up and down as you did, shaking him vigorously while he was sucked into your mouth.

Then, just as you were finding a steady, beating rhythm, he took your head in his hands and pulled you off of him. He was panting and ferocious when he whispered to you,

“Oh, my fucking God, baby. You don’t have to —”

“I want to,” you insisted, wrapping your hands behind your thighs and pulling his cock into your lips again. You kissed his head like it was his mouth, making out with his cock, covering him in your spit.

You felt him take one of the strings of your bikini in his hands and tug. Your top fluttered down, exposing your breasts to the dark room. You moaned.

When you did, he stumbled forward, losing his balance,

“Shit. Baby, I can't...” he begged, catching himself on the side of the end table, his knuckles white and straining to hold up his weight.

“I’ll let you sit,” you said cheekily, “If you hold my hair for me.”

“Oh, God,” he sank to the bed and laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing the back of your skull.

You sucked him harder, moaning as you did so, playing with your nipples and feeling your drool run down your chin.

Alex’s hand was only loosely connected, and you wanted more from him. You pulled away again and looked up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster,

“Alex,” you had his attention like a bright fire, “Fuck my face. Please.”

A snarl came out of his mouth, and he had to put himself back together before he answered you. He used his big hands to pet your hair out of your face, running a thumb across your wet bottom lip with tender care,

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. This feels so good. I don’t need you to -”

“I need you to. I wanna feel you in my throat.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Only a little,” you smiled and licked the tip of him again, teasing him.

“If I hurt you, pinch me. Hard.”

You nodded, taking him as deep as you could. Then, when you reached your limit, you felt his hands get tight, shoving you down past your mouth and into your throat. He was still so gentle with you as he moved himself inside of you, fucking you ever so slowly, waiting for your pinch. So, you started to moan and lick and pull him closer with your hands, pushing yourself to the point of gagging.

He yanked you off of him in a hurry, thinking you were injured. A long, frothy line of drool came out with him, and you spit the rest onto his shaft and returned him to your mouth. Now that you knew that you could go that deep with help, you tried to do it without, and you nearly succeeded.

Alex was a complete mess above you, and his moans had become high, whining whimpers. With every swallow, with every lick, you earned a new noise. A gasp, a curse, a shaking cry. You played him like an instrument. Loudly.

Finally, you took him all the way in, past even where he had dared to push you, and you buried your nose in his crotch, smelling his hair and sweat and skin.

“Oh, fucking shit! Fuck that’s deep. Oh, God. Oh, God! Baby!”

He was unraveled like a ball of string, spilling out everywhere. His body betrayed his politeness, and he thrust himself into you once, twice. You watched as the rockets and cannons and mortars all exploded around you in a fiery, rainbow crescendo, he came down your throat, crying for you, whimpering your name, gasping through gritted teeth.

You counted to ten, trying not to gag, feeling his cock pulsing in your mouth, beating like a heart. Then, you started to get light-headed. So, you pulled back, releasing him in a slobbery, wet mess of come and spit.

You leaned forward into his lap and began to lick him clean. He shuddered as you did so, shaking and moaning as your tongue touched all of his sensitive places. You saved his head for last. Licking up and down his shaft, cleaning his come from him, tasting his body’s sweet, sticky release. Until finally, you looked up at him with a sly smile.

He looked down at you in dumb shock as you sucked all the fluid away from his swollen head, and he gasped as you finished the job. You released him with a pop from your lips and smiled, sitting back on your heels and playing with your tits.

Alex lay on the bed for a while, and you joined him, rubbing his skin under his cutoff tee. He rolled onto his side and greedily suckled on your nipples, kissing your mouth and neck affectionately, fondling you a little more aggressively than you expected. Then, he looked up at the door and back down at you,

“Will you still want me after your brother breaks my nose?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes,

“Sure, I will.”

“Then, wait here, baby. I’ll be right back.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller smut #alex keller cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod

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sgiandubh · 8 months

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Anatomy of a lie: the French connection

With a very short day in sight at the office, I exceptionally go back to the whole Rash sightings colossal bullshit, for the sake of science. By now, we know *urv denied sending the submittal to Deux Moi: something I also expected to happen, in the context of her current feud with Miss Marple (way more reasonable and probably also way better informed).

Going back on memory lane, let's remember how the Rash Innuendo started. With this, conveniently kept under covers and then brought to light when Rash's name was out on the market:

I have one very important thing to comment: no one, no woman in her right mind, no matter if she is an art gallery owner, a lawyer, a teacher, a pop star on drugs or a fashionista wannabe (like Rash) would ever wear a baseball cap inside a French restaurant that is not: a) a trucker's pit stop joint on l'Autoroute du Soleil (the Sun Highway, A6/A7, relays Paris to Marseille) or b) a Burger King franchise in Seine-Saint-Denis (the infamous Neuf-Trois, or 93, after the INSEE's topographical code number for car plates and counties: in short, Paris's metropolitan area Bronx, if you wish, where all the riots start). Especially "a bougie" one: you do not have the slightest clue about real, living and breathing bourgeois French women (madame Mère's friends and also my own uni mates), quite a different species from the Californian one. Rash is anything but bourgeois, Canadian or not (yet a Canadian who lived in Paris and as such must be familiar with that code). I am talking string of pearls and tailleur Chanel/ petite robe noire and Vuitton bag and Louboutins. On a daily basis and even on the subway. Not baseball caps and scattered shopping bags at the Hôtel Costes.

No client of that restaurant (I forgot to mention yesterday) would ever take pictures with their phones. This informed me about the fact (FACT) you have never been to France, let alone ever set foot in a French high-end joint. French people prefer living their social life outside of their homes. When invited at someone's place for dinner, you can be sure you are, by now: a) intimate; b) a very close, trusted and valued friend; c) someone to be absolutely included in their social circle, for various reasons (high level networking dinners in Paris come to mind: something I know very well). So, restaurant it is for everything like: bantering, flirting, getting to know each other, spending quality time with witty and hysterically funny people, looking for a new job, getting a new job, looking for a new investor in your projects, the possibilities are endless. That being said, conversation at that table is sacred: your full attention must be there at all times, repartee and consistency are expected. No one, literally no one will spend their time scanning the room for a B-list actor kissing a blonde trophy woman in public, nonetheless. Read my lips: not a soul - they would be all engrossed in whatever the talk is about at their table.

The game shifted to a superior gear with this French speaking Anon:

Someone saw something louche/amiss in all this and reacted:

The French is NOT 'too good'. That French is semi-vulgar and provincial, as in the crude and pauper ils étaient l'un sur l'autre (I was expecting a je te jure/ I swear to you that never came and it usually does). And what to say about elle semble beaucoup plus réelle que les autres filles? It's Google Translate all the way. A real, walking talking French person would have said something along the lines of: elle semble beaucoup plus crédible/vraisemblable que les autres filles (she looks way more credible than the other girls), simply because réel(le), in spoken and written nowadays French, always applies to concepts, never to people: un réel plaisir (very contrived), for instance. C'est quelqu'un de réel means absolutely nothing and I would laugh like a drain if I heard someone telling me something like this. Last but not least, despite insisting it was a different Anon, they all seem to use the same words: they had lots of fun/ils s'amusaient vraiment. Something you use all the time, too. Of course.

Keep your hands off France, madam. Très facile de s'y prendre les pieds dans le tapis. And for once, I am not going to translate, since you speak it so well and I am sure you got the message.

PS: The closest to a real French bourgeois woman (last pics included) is C. And FYI, that is not my style: I dress like a preppy since I was 15 and I am very happy with it.

#fandom

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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hi kittie!!

i literally love the way u write ellie, and i have some questions abt for u abt her.. just outta curiosity 👐🫶

what do u think her phone case would look like? if it’s clear, what would be in it 🧐

what kinda bathing suite would she wear?? like shorts and a tee?? 🤤

what do u think her closet would look like? 👕

what do you think her top 5 favorite movies would be? 🎥

thank you so much !!

1. she’s a clear phone case warrior for sure. but, she’s a sentimental lil sap so wedged in the phone case would be a photo booth column you guys took together on one of your first dates !!

2. i feel like she is a shorts and a tee kinda gal. and if you guys are at a beach, she’ll go to the gift shop and buy the wackiest hat she can find to protect her head. either a cheap cowboy hat or a truckers cap that says something like “women love me fish fear me” on it, sometimes she’ll even buy a dumb tshirt too that says something obnoxious like “ I ❤️ BAD BITCHES” on it and just wear it around 😭

3. i feel like a lot of neutrals, muted colours, foresty tones. majority of her clothes are black and grey, especially if it’s just basics, sweatpants, hoodies etc. she has a couple of khaki items, like jackets and pants, and some dark reds maybe in the shoe department with her converse and t-shirts, and probably some faded dark blues too — sweatshirts, sweatpants, waterproof jackets, sneakers. she thinks her wardrobe is pretty boring but you love it bc it’s so her.

4. she’s a star wars girl til she dies i know that for sure, probably favouring the original trilogy bc she’s nerdy like that. i’d say that’s number 1, then of course not to be cliche but the jurassic park / world series at number 2. i think number 3 would be something more niche, gritty and gory like Nightcrawler. at number 4, i’d say it would have to be her sexual awakening movie which she watched on a tape she found at her uncle Tommys when she was younger, Wild Things (1999) — probably rewinding the pool scene one hundred times. at number 5 i think she’s a spiderman fan for sure — most likely toby maguires spiderman specifically. i think she’d like spiderman 3 the most !!

#anon #ellie williams x reader #modern!ellie

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dc418writes · 7 months

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✨Pairing✨: firefighter!Curtis Everettxblack!nanny!reader

Summary🪄: You witness Curtis’ jealous side for the first time (Dipped in Guilt addition)

⚠️: age gap (reader is in late twenties, Curtis is in late 30s to early 40s), sprinkle of possessiveness, insinuation to happy adult fun times, pretty much all fluff

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of photos used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“Looks like Jensen went all out with this huh?,” Curtis speaks. His son happily sitting in his thick, tattooed arms as you both walk up the concrete walkway

A decorated archway hangs overhead the entire short walk to the front door made to look like a cave full of spiders in their elaborate web. Finn couldn’t be less impressed though, deciding the grey mouse ears on his head - removing them for the fourth time now - were more intriguing than what was around him

“I like it,” you smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Jakey.”

“Of course you’d say that,” he thought. Ever the kind, supportive one, it’s like you were Jensen’s biggest fan

You’d always actively listen when he was going on about one of his nerdy interests. Nodding along and giving your input every now and then about some character or theory you had

You were like that with everyone at the station really. Listening with awe to Ari’s stories of traveling in foreign countries and truly interested in the latest book Cap was reading

You even had a little book club of sorts, which had a small smile creeping along his lips when he’d overhear you on the phone excitedly discussing a part you couldn’t get over

Although Curtis did feel a way about you being on the phone with his station captain so late

And now that he thought about it, why the hell were you calling Jensen “Jakey”?

It didn’t take long for the door to swing open after ringing the melodic bell. Jake smiling on the other side in some outfit that looked like a blue ninja and matching mask as music and giggles could be heard from deeper in the house.

“Hey, come in! Glad you guys could make it!”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Curtis replies stepping in the highly decorated home. There were orange and black streamers along the walls and ceiling along with fake cobwebs and bats. Paper skeletons were along the walls in various goofy poses while a couple larger, plastic ones sat on some of the tables in addition to a mini fake caldron and Halloween themed confetti

Overall, it reminded Curtis of a less cluttered version of a Halloween store the longer you walked through

Clearly the kids loved it how they ran around ogling and enjoying themselves in their costumes

“Very nice Sub Zero!,” you spoke. “Is that the one you found on the site you told me?”

“Yea! And thank you for being the only person here to appreciate an iconic character,” he emphasizes specifically towards a group of kids - including his niece in her ghostface costume - walking past

“Whatever bluey.”

Jensen just shakes his head. “That’s the problem with this generation, no respect. Also very adorable cat and mouse costume you two.”

Tickling under Finn’s chin, the one year old giggles in his grey onesie before reaching for Jake’s glasses - as he usually did whenever they’d see each other.

“And let me guess, Curtis is a…grumpy old trucker?”

Although fitting from the black flannel over his arms, dark jeans that covered the laces of his boots, and ash grey beanie, Curtis just glared in his typical sour puss fashion cutting Jensen’s chuckles short. His once joking mood replaced with a slight look of fear as he nervously cleared his throat.

“S-Sorry, just jokes I swear.”

“Hey, more big people!”

Hearing that familiar deep, soothing drawl, you instantly turn around to find Ari with a beer in hand and in his usual jeans and simple white tee waving from the kitchen.

“So we got adults in the kitchen/dining room, and kids mostly in the living room. Food is in both, but let me know if you guys need anything,” Jensen quickly explains before jogging off at his sister’s call.

“Aww how cute, cat and mouse,” Ari smiles giving you one of his famous bear hugs before gently tickling Finn in his side. “And what about you Curtis?”

“A tired, responsible adult.” Ari chuckles at his friend - expecting nothing less than that response - as you playfully roll your eyes taking a babbling Finn from his arms.

“Well on that note, I’ll leave you adults to it. Cmon baby boy, we’ll have fun for the both of em.”

Curtis’ eyes naturally follow as you stride into the living room while cooing at his son. Ari’s daughter, Maya, excitedly squeals your name once you step foot on the large rug protecting the dark hardwood below. Having babysat her a few times now, she already loved you as if you were her best friend. She also loved Finn, saying how he was the cutest baby she’d ever seen.

“He’s like a babydoll!,” she whispered in awe while holding him that first time. Since then, you, Curtis, and Ari suspected that Maya might look at Finn as her own real life babydoll watching as she took care of him while he played on his mat and would occasionally try to rock him. She even tried to feed him his bottle, but that usually didn’t go well since Finn liked to hold his own.

Seeing you interact with the kids - complimenting their costumes and goofily dancing right beside them - a fraction of a smile tilts the corner of Curtis’ mouth replacing his usual stoic gaze.

There’s also a hint of something waking inside of him every time you hold his son or help him toddle about the room being careful that he doesn’t fall or hurt himself

It’s almost primal or possessive as he feels a low twitch and a warmth bloom along his skin

And he knows it’s bound to get him in trouble

“Stare any harder, and I’m gonna start getting jealous,” Ari smirks handing Curtis a chilled beer from the fridge behind him. Clearly caught, he can only shake his head as the two lightly clink their dark bottles together before taking respective sips.

“So I take it everything’s going well?”

“Yea, she loves Finn and he loves her back. Sometimes I think he might like her more than me.”

“Understandable. I mean she’s prettier, so kind, an amazing cook, funny, gorgeous-,”

“Are you done?,” Curtis glowered lowering the beer bottle from his lips. “Want me to call her back in here so you can find more ways to compliment her?”

He knew Curtis liked you, but he didn’t realize his friend was this deeply smitten. “Relax cowboy, no one’s trying to take your girl.”

Although Ari had to admit, if they weren’t friends he’d be doing any and everything to make you his.

“Whoa, Curtis has a girl?!,” Jake pauses as soon as he steps into the kitchen. A dopey grin on his face much to Curtis’ dismay.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh he does,” Ari adds only making him more annoyed.

“I’m happy for you man! Finally getting back out there and opening yourself up for love.” Curtis instantly shrugs Jake’s arm from around his shoulder, but the giddy dork only puts it back making Curtis glare at his frosted tipped station mate. “You should’ve invited her.”

“He did. You’ve seen her a few times,” Ari chuckles with a wink before taking another swig from his nearly empty bottle. At first, Jake doesn’t seem to get it quirking his brow in confusion. When things finally click, Jake’s face morphs into surprised realization then excitement looking back and forth between a grumpy Curtis and sweet you in your makeshift cat costume bouncing Finn in your arms.

Curtis knew he should’ve stayed home.

Finally back home, Curtis lounged on his couch with arms crossed over his chest as some old, black and white horror movie playing on the screen mounted on the wall. The younger looking woman screaming in horror as some alien species cornered her in an alley

He couldn’t really pay attention though, with you currently in your room getting dressed to go out with your friends

“It’s our Halloween tradition! Since freshman year, we’ve always dressed up and hung out downtown.”

Selfishly Curtis wanted you home with him. You curled on the couch with your snowman blanket - as you tended to do - only a mere arms length away from him as you both watched a movie or one of your shows

He especially liked Love is Blind, but he’d never openly admit that

As if hearing his thoughts of you, the thick heels of your black booties click down the hall eventually stopping in front of him giving a little twirl and your heart melting grin

“And enter the wicked witch!”

Wicked was the word alright, but not in the traditional since of how the character looked when he was little

He could see your black thong through your lacy, wide legged black pants with spiderweb detailing. Your sleeveless top - lacy and see through as well - showing your black bustier underneath. To top everything off, a purple pointed hat on your head with black cats scattered all around in various poses

He could only stare as you excitedly grabbed your purse from the coatrack and shuffled through its contents making sure you had everything

“If Finn wakes up before I’m back, there’s two bottles in the fridge I made earlier, and the bottle warmer is already plugged in,” you state walking towards the front door as you begin typing on your phone. “Oh and-,”

Not paying attention, you don’t hear or feel Curtis get up closing the distance between you with hands stuffed in his front pockets. Turning to suddenly see his broad body startles you, making you slightly jump and a breathy giggle slip past your soft lips

“You can be very nimble for a guy your size,” you joke, but Curtis just peers down at you looking stoic as usual. “Well, I uh guess I’ll see you later then. Were you gonna lock up behind me or-,”

He simply stays silent looking stoic as usual causing your once good mood to slightly dim

“Um okay..g-goodnight then,” you weakly smile with hand twisting the doorknob. Once you have it open by just a crack, Curtis’ larger hand is pushing it closed again and leaving it there to block you from going out

Effectively confusing and startling you; making your brows slightly knit

“…Is something wrong?,” you ask.

“You want me to start being open?,” he begins still trapping you between him and the door. Not that you were particularly complaining. “Okay then, I don’t like - no, I despise the fact that a bunch of men, let alone one, are gonna have their eyes on you. Wanting something that’s not theirs.”

You can only stand there waiting for him to finish. Your back eventually pressing against the door as you step back trying to move away from his intense gaze

“Now I’m gonna give you an option. You can leave; go have fun with your friends and I drag you back here in an hour not caring if you’re ready to go or not, nor if you’re kicking or screaming when I do it. Or you can rightfully stay here.”

The way he spoke with authority as if he was your father stunned you into near silence, unable to clearly get your response out. “S-Stay?”

“Yes..with me,” he states leaning close enough that you could feel the air from his nostrils skate across your skin. “And I promise to make you forget about whatever grimy place you wanted to go and whoever you were planning to go with.”

You feel your core spasm at such a promise reflexively clenching your thighs together as your tongue peeks to wet your lips and you gently nod in approval. It should be shameful how easily you drop your purse into his waiting hand almost like you’re in a trance, but you could care less letting him lead you to his bedroom. In the morning, you’ll just text a quick apology to your friends about standing them up.

Not that they’d know what you were talking about since there weren’t any plans in the first place

#curtis everett #curtis everett au #curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett x reader #Curtis Everett x black!reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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lazybakerart · 2 years

Note

I stumbled across your account while in the Billy tag. I have to say I am genuinely so happy that someone out there loves him as much as I do. I am so freaking tired of defending him and justifying my love for him. And being told it’s only because I find him attractive. It makes me want to pull all of my hair out. Keep fighting the good fight! I’m not on here a lot, but if you’d like someone to talk to about him or any character. I’m here. I’m always looking for more friends, especially Billy stans. My question for you is, which outfit of Billy’s is your favorite?

my dearest. my darling. thank you.

first up, the Honorary Mention, since it's in a bit of a grey area. billy did wear this, but it was only in a photo.

the one and only crop-top

in a show that purportedly loves the 80s, the lack of crop tops was felt, deeply, and some say may have impacted the show's realism and its commitment to deepthroating nostalgia, but we got our crumbs and if anyone was going to strut around in an itty-bitty shirt, thankfully it was billy because it could only be billy. no one else could pull it off. don’t even argue. don’t even start. you know i’m right. shh.

now, let's get into it.

TOP FIVE BILLIAM OUTFITS

metalhead-tastic

we don't see billy in black all that much and i am on the floor in love with this style of shirt for him because it's such a contrast to our go-to tits-out billiam that we adore. it's a crew neck + sleeveless to show off his arms. billy is all about putting his best assets out first: tits, face, ass, and - you know it - arms. he's a metalhead and he should be in more black! but i'll take what i can get.

niagara baby

the most insane outfit ever. i firmly believe he stole every bit of it from the lost & found at the pool/from his coworkers. it's bonkers. it goes against everything billy believes in style wise. a cap that covers his gorgeous hair he always makes sure is Perfection. a long sleeve shirt that covers his chest and abs AND ARMS? it is iconic. it is trucker-chic. it proves billy can wear absolutely anything and still be damn hawt.

gym rat

this shirt and his gym shorts? honey. let’s not even get into the one curl that is so exact and so perfectly captures a goldilocks curl straight out of the woods that it could have only been brought into existence with precision and purpose - we know two things about billy hargrove: he does not fuck around with his hair or girls. back to the outfit, which is really about the shirt. i love it. once again the crew neck collar, but it’s the sleeves that bumps this outfit up the list. wide open. to show off not just his beefy arms, but to give us a peek of side-boob and those wonderful abdominal muscles. this shirt says, ‘yeah, you can look, but you ain’t getting the whole show for free.’ he wants dinner first. he wants to be romanced. he wants a guy to squeeze his bicep and say ‘wow, you’re really strong.’

nice and toit

season three was a hot mess, but it did give us some A++ looks and this one cannot be overlooked. it’s simple. it’s elegant. it’s rough. this is what a metalhead who drives a camaro wears. tight white tank top and a pair of tight-tight jeans. [insert that one gif of dacre and joe talking about those jeans/dacre’s ass here] you cannot go wrong with this look. it encapsulates who billy is - the irony being, of course, technically this is not currently billy wearing it, but let’s not drown in the details, lets gag on the aesthetic - it’s summer. it’s hot. it shows off everything billy wants to show off. he’s a guy who pumps iron while smoking and drinking, he is not working out to get healthy, he’s putting on mass to get that dick. it shows off his chest. his abs. his shoulders. his arms. those jeans show off every damn thing going on down there and it is nothing but good for miles. tight shirt. tight jeans. you know it. you know.

the classic

when i think of billy, well, i think of a lot of things, but that denim jacket is front and center with billy hargrove. no other character quite embraces denim like billy and this jacket is like another limb for him. the cuffed sleeves. the pack of smokes in the pocket. the kiss mark on the sleeve that gives a person ideas and thoughts not exactly pertinent to this post. the cherry on top that pushes this ensemble to number one is the unbuttoned shirt. that’s billy. that’s dacre giving us a piece of himself. it’s that slip of rebellion added to the water. a white buttoned shirt half-undone to drive the population of hawkins wild + the denim jacket and those tight-tight jeans to make sure no one who looks billy’s way will think he’s someone to mess with. he’s a bad boy. he’s trouble. he’s no good. he’s looking to get his neck chomped on. he’s strutting in jeans he can barely sit down in looking to get dicked down. the classic. the original. the best. done. perfect. god i love him.

+ ★★★★★

sexy time

billy and his date night shirt. we have the iconic tight jeans telegraphing the speed at which a man could bounce a quarter off billy’s ass + THE red shirt. this is not any ordinary red shirt. this is the red shirt billy has chosen to wear to whatever date he’s been cockblocked from attending (likely with a few boys from the football team, canon was never very specific, but the subtext tells us everything we need to know on billy’s love life - dudes and a lot of them when steve still refuses to give him his number). it’s one of the only shirts we see on him with a pattern - outside of this, it’s plain colored shirts with a variety of sleeve lengths. this is his nice shirt. this is the quality shirt. this is the shirt a guy will touch and think, yeah, he’s gonna touch billy a little more. add in that it’s barely buttoned with billy’s best assets in the spotlight - eye catching + easy access - you can’t go wrong. and neither can billy. this is his fuck-me shirt. his fight-me shirt. violence and love married in red.

#replies #billy hargrove #harringrove #this is so long omgafkjghdsf #i have many thoughts and feelings as you can see when it comes to mr billiam

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leighlew3 · 3 months

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Had a blast with my nephew at MEOW WOLF! Wrapped up by getting me a trucker cap and Jace this freaky plush creature he liked. 😂💜

P.S. I went face first down a short slide built into a washing machine so there was also that… 💀

#meow wolf #grapevine #fun #nephew #art

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sadnessisavegetable · 1 year

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My Takes on Depicting Humanformers(art included!!) part 1:

You might not agree with me, this is just a collection of how I like doing things with characters, starting from where I'm most confident with the TFP lineup of Autobots.

The format goes 1) what is worn 2) what could be on their person at any given moment and 3) how they sleep, which would help determine how much they would be seen in the common areas at home base.

Optimus:

Trucker look (wears a lot of comfy layers, work boots, and trucker caps—this is a man who has been behind the wheel for days at a time to get places)

Has a collection of thermoses and coffee tumblers (my favorite of which to throw in being one that's shaped like a red crayon) and guns. It's anyone's guess which combo it is that day.

Can sleep on command, but needs to get comfortable first (it's something he learned with how often he started sleeping at truck stops or in Wal-Mart parking lots in his cab) but he doesn't overuse this ability of his. He also snores, avoid sleeping near him.

(two looks because of my AU where Orion is given his body back after basically being a ghost that wants to bitch-slap Optimus out of his body, and we will address Orion in a separate part.)

Ratchet:

Wears scrubs with flannels and lab coats layered over them and like...crocs or slides of some sort over patterned or fun socks. (PNW doctor, I guess?)

Has A Mug. Must be this One Particular Mug.(he's stubborn about his favorite mug) Because it can fit half the pot of coffee in it with a Redbull and is not overflowed. (My version is a gift from Wheeljack as an apology for smashing something and says "Doctors Have Got It Going On" in Barbie font. Miko helped pick it out.) He also has a baseball bat that he takes with him out of base.

Does not sleep unless his body decides to shut down or he's cuffed to the bed somehow. He's pretty much Pavlov'd himself for the cuff thing though, which is funny in a different way. Sleeps probably the quietest.

Bulkhead:

This big guy has basically a lot of t-shirts, battered jeans, work boots, and jean jackets(without the sleeves). Bandanas go with each outfit. He looks like a construction worker who finally retired and decided to go clubbing.

Is the most likely to have a random tool of destruction on him—but never outright weapons. Crowbars, hammers, etc. and it seems like he pulls them out of only Primus knows where. Other than that, he is often seen holding drumsticks(he can lay down a beat so well) or maybe art supplies.

Likes napping. A lot. But will also stay up randomly to do something or go somewhere. He snores, but nowhere near as loud as Optimus does.

Arcee:

Function over fashion. Men's jeans, combat-issue boots with steel toes, thicker shirts, and jackets. (However, this does not mean that she hasn't bedazzled her clothes to some capacity. She has painted, ironed-on, stitched, and accessorized enough that she is still feminine.)

She has knives on her. You tell her to put all her weapons on a table and you'll be standing there for about fifteen minutes as she pulls them out of places that are increasingly less obvious and more disturbing to know about. She also carries a book checked out from the library or bought with her for when she waits for Jack to get off work.

The only one with a completely normal sleeping schedule. She sleeps the best and is always the first up to make coffee. Comes from still obeying the schedule she adhered to prior to the war in my AU when she was a gladiator.

Bumblebee:

This one is a tossup with me. He'll wear anything comfortable that makes no noise when he walks. Anything. He's shown up to battle in a unicorn onesie and kicked mad Decepticon butt. However, he does gravitate to band shirts and shorts.

He has fidgets. Endless fidgets. Some are also weapons, but...this boy is a little hyperactive and would like it to not put him in jeopardy. He shares with Miko and Smokescreen sometimes.

He is an insomniac. He stays up late, enjoying the quiet working or gaming time staying up grants him. But he's an insomniac for a more depressing reason in my AU.

Wheeljack:

Comfy combat wear. Often wears crop tops too, when casual. This man has not an ounce of shame in his body. He looks like a slut a lot, but a functional one who can deliver an ass-whooping quickly.

We've already seen him and his bombs and swords. But also, he keeps little things to tinker with on him too.

He sleeps when he's certain he's safe. He'll lounge and pretend all day to convince people, but he doesn't quite sleep.

Cliffjumper:

It's giving rodeo, or at least someone who goes to watch. He wears jeans, he wears t-shirts, maybe flannel shirts, chaps are a maybe, and cowboy boots. He might also have a septum piercing shaped like bull horns.

He keeps a case of beers in his car, but doesn't usually drink. On his person, he keeps a long, sturdy rope for wrangling things(sticking with cowboy aesthetic) and a small sketchbook.

He sleeps whenever, honestly. He's carefree, and that leads to him sleeping easily. It's like playing roulette when you're trying to talk to him and he's randomly asleep.

Smokescreen:

This boy prefers to wear things as close to Cybertronian traditional clothing as he can find. Poor guy was thrown for a loop when Ratchet took him to get clothes at the store. Ends up wearing a lot of loose sweatpants and tank tops with flipflops.

He keeps a notepad on him for comfort sake and you can usually ask him for a pen and he will offer you seven different types. He prefers tasers as weapons.

Can't sleep without ambience that feels like the archives during the night. Optimus ends up fixing the problem by setting up a dinged-up fan in Smokescreen's area(the dings in the blades are what make it sound like the archives).

Ultra Magnus:

Insistent on using a uniform of some kind. The army ended up dyeing one so it wasn't one they could mistake for their own. Ultra Magnus had to make his own patches, they were hesitant on issuing any.

The one most likely to have anything needed on him. He is like your token mom friend, except more like he has a stick up his aft that makes him insistent on controlling things.

He sleeps like he is laying in a coffin. I hate him for it.

Tailgate (he's only mentioned briefly, but I know how he looks):

Little man wears cargo shorts with a big hoodie and sneakers. He's like...maybe Miko's height, he is so small as a "humanformer". He tends to wear visors and masks too, with a beanie of some sort and fingerless gloves. He also wears knee pads and elbow pads(he has a skateboard sort of thing)

He has a gameboy in his pocket with a pocket knife and fidgets and just a bit of everything. Knickknacks are his favorite, little ones, and hot wheel cars.

He sleeps in the weirdest places and positions. It's like a magical ability to fall asleep anywhere.

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kingmakerpod · 11 months

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Other clothes that weren't around in 1910 that Eisen would've absolutely owned if he could've:

t-shirts that say things like "I'm big in Japan"

trucker cap

socks with a Duff beer can pattern on them

denim cutoff shorts

#the constraints of 1910 fashion sensibility stop him from reaching the heights of tackiness that live in his soul #shitposts

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fancyfade · 2 years

Photo

NTT characters in the mid 2000s by Fade31415

[image: a DC fanart with a simple shading style (like cell shading) featuring characters from new teen titans, each wearing civilian clothing that was popular in the 2000s. Raven is wearing a floor-length jean skirt and a spaghetti strap top, and she is crossing her arms and looking down at tara disapprovingly. Tara is wearing loose cargo pants (with zip at the knee to transform into shorts) and a brown T shirt, and she is sticking her tongue out at raven and flipping her off. Victor is wearing denim capris and an orange turtle neck shirt with a knit grey hat, and he has one arm around Tara and one around Kory and is looking down at tara while smiling slightly but also trying to pull her a bit away from raven. Kory is wearing a skin tight tube top rainbow striped dress and pink platform heels, and she has one arm behind vic and is smiling widely. dick and donna are clustered together. Donna is wearing very low cut boot cut jeans with a wide belt and a crop top red shirt and a pink cap, and dick is wearing skinny jeans, red shoes, a vest and a white t shirt. garfield logan is wearing khaki cargo pants and a white hoodie that has his face on it and says “we love gar” and a black trucker hat with a purple visor, and wally is wearing jeans and a yellow polo.end image]

So I am a huge DC nerd and keep a continuously updating timeline to try to figure out when comics "would" have happened if now is the present.

According to my timeline, NTT should be 2007/2008 ish when it just starts.

So... I had to draw them in 2000s era fashion obviously! Since I am extremely Un Fashionable, I had to google what people wore back then even tho I was alive. I can remember the cargo pants. I was so into cargo pants. I think I had some that were just like Terra's

further decisions:

@raven-harlot wound up pickng out raven’s outfit when i was posting potential ref pics in discord XD

Tara is dressed how I would like to dress back then, but she has the feathered hair i didn’t have. she’s flipping off raven b/c she doesn’t like her. vic is telling her to be nice b/c he likes tara AND raven

raven knitting vic’s knit hat. but not his turtle neck, he bought that.

i wound up changing how i draw kory’s hair b/c i have a hard time drawing it in the perez style.

gar has a fanshirt of himself.

wally just wound up in a polo and jeans b/c i cannot imagine him keeping up on fashion trneds sorry wally. i also reffed a long distance runner for his body type and he looks so scrawny now XD

#my art #dc fanart #the new teen titans #ntt #dc comics #raven #tara markov #victor stone #koriandr #donna troy #dick grayson #garfield logan #wally west #teen titans

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flannelepicurean · 5 months

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Redneck Raditz: The Locals

There are so many OCs in this it's just a whole entire goddamn Situation, but you literally cannot write about somebody moving into a Southern town without there being a fuckin' town. Anyway, here are some of the most well-developed peeps:

Debra (Miss Debra) is the diner waitress. Yes, there are other waitresses at the diner. But she is THE diner waitress. Nothing fazes her, and she is very sweet, but you better bring your manners. She doesn't really get mad, but you will feel ashamed of yourself in the worst way if you disappoint Miss Debra with your behavior. She's got that classic Southern hospitality that's actually genuine, and she will not steer you wrong on a menu recommendation. She's from the same manufactory that spun out Dolly Parton, but she's not as glamorous on the outside. She and Miss Dolly would get along great, though, and Dolly would recognize a kindred soul.

"The Guys" consist of Wayne, Kevin, Ryan, and Derrick. They're the crew Raditz hangs out with when he's not working at the hardware store or haunting the diner. They smoke weed and play Playstation and do other hanging-out type shit, and they're still friends with Raditz even though his ass be cheatin' at Tekken.

Wayne is a real chunky guy who doesn't wear enough sunscreen even though he really should, and gets that "sun-bleached blonde, sunburnt edges" look in the 71% of the year that's pretty damn warm. Favors flannel shirts (lighter fabric, unbuttoned, ripped-off sleeves over a white tee or a tank in the warmer months) trucker hats with truck-related stuff on 'em. He's got the thickest accent, or at least the most animated one (there's a difference). Tends to talk at a spirited canter. He's frequently the first moral compass of the group, and tries to get Kevin to act like he's got some goddamn sense. Wayne will get vocal about when someone "ought not to've done that," if they're acting like a real asshole, even if he's not physically enforcing it.

Kevin is a Cory, of Cory and Trevor, of Trailer Park Boys, type of guy. 😂 Basically the same edition of dude, but not a physical copy. He's a little low-key on his energy, but extremely goofy, and often off-target on shit. He lives in sweatpants and jerseys and mildly obnoxious tee shirts and hoodies. Not a full-time hat wearer, but will put on an Adidas logo snapback every now and again.

Ryan is a mechanic. He's not terribly tall, and pretty wiry, but he has a presence. His hands are always a little grungy-looking, and his nails are always kinda black under the edges. His eyes are a little deep-set, and light green, and his hair and his sorta-whatever mustache situation are that kind of easily-overlooked light brown that like...wild rabbits have in their coats. He hangs out in his shop shirts and jeans and boots and that baseball cap that's kinda ???-colored because he's worn it at the shop for so many years. Ryan doesn't say much. But when he does, it's to the point. Ryan is a sage.

Derrick is "Derrick With the Truck." Not that nobody else has a truck; there are a LOT of trucks around. Derrick has a Truck, one of those pickup trucks with the fat ass and the extra tires and a big enough truckbed that all of The Guys, and Raditz, and maybe a couple other people, can get down to someplace to have a good time, and they can guaranteed lay Raditz's drunk ass in the back and still have room to drive everybody home after. Derrick is a Black guy with some height and some heft on him. He wears jeans a lot, but he goes for a little nicer shirts than the other guys. Short-sleeved button-downs in the warmer months; V-neck sweater with a white tee or a casual button-down under it in the cooler months. Derrick also doesn't say much, but he's got a sense of humor. He's a practical guy, and he likes to be helpful, but he's got good boundaries.

There are some other folks who fill out the roster in this thing, but I don't have as much about them yet. :)

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total-killer-brainrot · 5 months

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Pit Stop

“What can I get you today, sir?” You cooed. Jumping and going tense when you felt a rough hand sliding up the back of your thigh, under your skirt. Before you could move away from it he gripped harder and tilted his head up slightly so you could see his mouth. That familiar smile. That perfect low voice teasing your ears as his hand slid higher.

“Coffee… and the usual, sugar.”

---

Rusty comes to visit you. The fact that your working doesn't bother him.

---

All my fics are also on AO3

Not Beta Read. Rating: Explicit. Length: 2,086. Ship: Rusty Nail x You. Fem!Reader. Tags: Groping, Established Relationship, Voice Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Dubious Consent, Grinding, Vaginal Fingering, Public Humiliation, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Dacryphilia, Breeding Kink, Degradation, Creampie, Come Eating

---

It was too damn hot. Your uniform clung to your body. Not even the shitty fan on the counter top was keeping you cool. You ran a hand through your hair as you fanned yourself with a menu. It was a slow day at the diner. Though every day was slow when you were in the middle of nowhere. You let out a low sigh as you leaned against the counter. As close to your little fan as you could. Letting it loosen and blow the hairs out of your ponytail. You heard the door ding as a new customer entered. Without looking up you straightened and adjusted your dress. Grabbing your notebook and calling out to your new customer cheerily.

“Be with you in a moment!”

The teens clustered in the booth near you cackled and flicked straws in your direction as you moved towards your new customer. You shot them a mean look and grinned inwardly when they shut up. The man sitting in the booth in the corner had his head low. Face almost completely hidden by his cap. Another trucker no doubt. Stopping for a meal before heading back on the road. It was your main clientele so you weren’t surprised. Stopping at the end of his booth you gave your best customer service smile and greeted him. As chipper as ever despite the miserable heat.

“Coffee… and the usual, sugar.”

You grabbed his wrist quickly before it reached anywhere indecent. Flushing a deep red as that damned voice sent shivers down your spine and straight to your panties.

“Rusty…” You mumbled breathlessly. Lost for a moment before you realised you were in full view of the rest of the diner and quickly snapped out of it. “Hey hey!” You whispered as you stepped away from his reach. “Not here!” You looked around to see if anyone had spotted him feeling you up. Luckily the diner was near empty. Only the kids by the door and one old trucker fast asleep at his booth, coffee long gone cold.

“No one here, darling…” He stood slowly. Tipping his cap lower before turning to the bathrooms. “You have two minutes.”

He didn’t wait to see if you would agree. He already knew you would. Already knew you were dying to get your hands on him. Usually he came by once or twice a month. Stopping at this shitty diner just for you on his way across the country. But it had been three whole months since you had seen him. And you were aching for it.

You shook yourself out of your stupor once again. Smoothing your hair and hurrying back to the register. Dumping your apron and notepad and calling out to the cook out the back. “Going on break!”

You heard a short grunt from the kitchen before you speedwalked for the bathrooms. Typically you weren’t this eager. But typically you hadn’t been left desperate and needy for three whole months.

When you entered the bathrooms it was eerily quiet. For such a big guy Rusty was terrifyingly quiet. You cleared your throat nervously, hoping he would reveal himself. Before stepping deeper into the grimy bathroom. Suddenly there was a hand on your waist and you were pulled into one of the stalls. Pressed up against the door as you heard him latch it. Your hands shook slightly as you held the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. You felt his cap bump your forehead but it didn’t bother you. He pressed a knee between your legs and you didn’t hesitate to moan against his lips as you rubbed against him. Already soaked. When he pulled off you he chuckled lowly.

“Damn, girlie. What’s got you all worked up?”

You tilted your head back against the stall door as you ground down on him. Eyes fluttering at the much needed friction.

“Three. Fucking. Months. Rusty…” You half spoke, half moaned. Which only made him chuckle harder. One large hand coming up to cup your cheek. It was sweet for a moment until his thumb caught your bottom lip, then forced its way into your mouth. Holding your mouth open as he gazed down at you.

“You missed me, sugar?” He rumbled. Smirking when you nodded around his thumb. Two fingers replaced it and he ordered. “Suck.” And you more than happily obliged. Any other guy and the salty sweat taste would put you off. But Rusty definitely wasn’t any other guy. It was ambrosia to your lips. All too quickly the fingers and leg between yours disappeared and he backed off you. “Panties.”

You shimmied them off and handed them over. Hoping you would get some kind of praise for your initiative. Of course not. When Rusty gestured for you to turn you did obediently. Placing two hands on the door and leaning over for him. Clenching in anticipation. He hiked up your dress and groaned softly.

“Oh baby… you’re this wet already? I’ve barely touched you…” He dragged his fingers up your core and you whined pathetically. Letting your head hang as two fingers slipped inside and his thumb found your clit. Even after all this time he knew your body so well. Those perfect long fingers grazing the most wonderful spots inside you. You did try to keep your moans quiet but it was so hard when he was just so damn good. Your thighs trembled. You had been so pent up the last few months that your orgasm was rushing closer much faster than usual. It even surprised Rusty. A short scoff escaping him as you gasped and clenched down hard. Barely able to keep yourself upright. “Damn girl! You did miss me…” You clenched around nothing as his finger pulled out. Patting your ass and ordering you to turn. Waiting until he knew you were watching before sucking the slick off his fingers. You whimpered weakly. The sight alone almost enough to get you going all over again. In one easy sweep he picked you up, pressing you against the door again and capturing you in a deep kiss. He tasted of cigarettes and coffee. And of course, you. He kept you hoisted with your legs around his waist. From this position you could barely even struggle to escape. You knew he loved it when he had you trapped.

You were reluctant to pull away from the kiss but you knew where it was headed. “Rusty… I don’t know if I can go again… let me just like… suck you off instead.”

He barked out a short laugh and leaned back to look at you. Already a flushed mess just from his fingers.

“No way, doll. I missed this pussy.” Through his jeans you could feel him pressing against you. You whimpered as the rough fabric rubbed against your bare centre. Eyes fluttering back at the feeling. There was no backing out once he had made up his mind. Besides, fucking you was only half the fun. Sending you back to work, legs shaky and hair a mess was more than enough motivation for him to follow through.

His jeans were undone and shoved halfway down his thighs in no time and he gave you no warning before slamming balls deep inside you in one quick thrust. Your breath left your body and you arched your back. Pressing your chest against him. His fingers hadn’t been enough to prepare you. His cock stretching you in the best way. The minor discomfort far outweighed by the relief of finally being filled again by your favourite trucker. He groaned low. Head bent low so you couldn’t see his face. His breath tickling your neck. You knew he wouldn’t give you any time to adjust, but it still surprised you when he pulled back and thrust inside again. Drawing a long, high pitched keen from the back of your throat.

The stall door rattled as his pace picked up. You were so sensitive still that the fast rhythm was making you lose your mind. When his thumb found your clit again you lost it. Fluttering around him as your second orgasm washed over you. A choked sob left your lips as the pleasure rush quickly turned to overstimulation. His thumb was still working over your aching clit as he pounded into you. You tried to push his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge. Your thighs squeezed around his hips as you whined.

“Too much! Rusty please!” You could feel tears welling in your eyes. Clit throbbing and pussy aching as he continued on with no care. Chasing his own pleasure and taking joy in torturing you with yours. You felt his lips press against your neck before that deep voice whispered right in your ear.

“You start taking those pills like I asked you to?”

You had to slog through the fog of arousal in your brain to figure out what he was really asking. When you realised your eyes widened. You had forgotten. It had been so long since you had last met with him that his instruction had completely left your mind. He tutted softly. Reading your expression for your answer before you even spoke. One particularly rough thrust sent you reeling.

“It’s almost like you want me to knock you up…” He grinned as you shook your head weakly. The smallest of groans escaping him before he continued. “You walk around in that little uniform… just begging for me to come in here and pump you full of babies…” He laughed softly when that drew another moan from you.

He wasn’t touching your clit anymore. Entirely focused on his own finish now. Speaking through soft grunts as his thrusts turned sloppy. “Bet you let every damned trucker come in here and fuck you silly…” You shook your head quickly. Struggling to get the words out.

“No! Just… you, Rusty. Just you. Only you…”

“Damn right, sugar…” he practically growled in your ear. “Just me. You’re mine.” You felt one of his hands in your hair, tugging harshly as he stilled. Hips shuddering to a stop as he came deep inside you. For the millionth time he left you breathless. Eyes rolling back as you felt his cum fill you up. Oozing out around his cock and making a mess down your thighs. You whimpered at the feeling. Making a mental note to go out and buy birth control. Knowing it was pointless and you would forget as soon as he pulled out of you.

He pulled out of you and you let out a shaky breath as he let you back down onto your feet. Your knees buckled but you felt his hand on your shoulder, helping you stay steady. No, he was pushing you down. Making you kneel in front of him. He didn’t even have to instruct you to start before you were lazily dragging your tongue up his length. Cleaning both your orgasms off him. You fidgeted below him as you worked. Feeling his cum cooling as it dripped out of you. Making an embarrassing mess on the floor between your legs. If you stayed still and didn’t stand once you finished maybe he wouldn’t notice and make you clean that with your tongue too. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Lucky for you he seemed pretty out of it as well. Absentmindedly guiding your head down on him. Not seeking another finish, just enjoying the view. When he got bored he pushed you off and tucked himself back in his jeans. Giving you the barest grunt of approval before leaving you in the stall. Before he left the bathroom he called back to you.

“Get me that coffee then I’m off.”

Leaving you to clean yourself up. You grimaced as you stood and more cum oozed out. How was there so much? You groaned as you realised he hadn’t given you back your panties. So now you would spend the rest of the day hoping you didn’t have jizz dripping down your thighs while you served customers. He definitely did it on purpose.

#joy ride #rusty nail #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail x you #TKB Fics

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