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angelwithdemonictendencies · 6 months

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every love i've ever known has been drenched in blood; teach me how to unfurl these fists, show me where to put down this knife.

ax72 x reader: the fireman feels like something special.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, oral sex (f on m), biting (briefly, okay?), crying, dirty talk (tasteful but serious. i'm not kidding), just all my typical stuff (and all my usual ax72 stuff - so legs and limbs and size and the like). don't read if you're not 100% sure).

(a/n: my favorites! thank you for being patient with me. for your reading pleasure, may i present to you a ax72 fic in which he is a volunteer fireman and you are plagued with fear and self-doubt! i'm joking, but not really. i couldn't not write something for him after the insane start to the season he's had - penalty minutes leader darling deserves a treat. obviously none of the details make sense, none of the dialogue is realistic, there are way too many dramatic speeches and angsty confessions, but you guys know that at this point. to anyone who may relate to what this main character is going through, please know you are not alone. it is very easy to push good things away because they scare you. but to be scared is to care about something. follow your fear, stalk it, don't let up on it until it leads you to something lovely, something real. pretty please tell me what you think. i think jh86 may be next but i'm still storyboarding. for now, i'm sending you and your snakes every single bit of courage and love i've got. go canucks. until next time).

that first night was cold like an absent mother. cruel and unforgiving, unavoidable.

the cold was weathered, however, but the hushed laughter and bickering amongst your housemates as you all exited the front door, smoke alarms blaring, loud and relentless.

"do we actually have to evacuate if we know there's not a fire?" your roommate asked, covering her ears with her hands.

another housemate sighed. "maybe we wouldn't have to if you hadn't left your curling iron on for three fucking hours."

your roommate grimaced. "my bad, guys. this one is on me."

you couldn't help a laugh as you threw an arm around her shoulders. "we know, sweetness. live and learn."

someone groaned. "it's frigid out here, jesus."

you nodded in agreement. the alarm had begun to sound at just after two in the morning, meaning everyone in the house was dressed for bed, all thin sleep shorts and fleecy sweatshirts, no where near enough to combat the brisk air, which was already starting to make your teeth chatter.

"great. here comes the government," one of your friends said, eye roll evident in her voice as the sound of the siren began to overtake the tamer sound of the smoke alarm.

you and your roommate giggled at her comment as you huddled together. as a polysci major, she had an opinion on everything, including all facets of the public sector. for example, the fire department, who pulled up to the curb at that moment in their truck.

"who's going to do the talking?" your roommate whispered to you.

"you?" you proposed, raising a brow. "it's your iron, hm?"

she groaned, but nodded. "this should be good."

three firefighters hopped down from their massive rig, looking even more menacing in their heavy fireproof gear.

"hello, officers," your roommate began, stepping forward and away from you to speak. your shoulders shook in a laugh.

"they're not officers," you whispered to her.

"hello, gentlemen," she corrected. "i speak on behalf of our entire house when i say we appreciate your punctuality."

one of your housemates hung her head in her hands. another one groaned.

"i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say there is no real danger?" one of the firemen said, his tone steady.

your polysci friend nodded. "correct, sir. your services are no longer required."

the three men now stood just in front of you, allowing you to get a true look at them.

the one who had spoken was older, probably thirty five, shorter than his coworkers but obviously the chief. he continued to speak with your roommate about the situation as the rest of you watched on.

the next in line was taller, lankier, with a goofy face and a goofier presence. he appeared unsure of his limbs, how to keep them still.

when your gaze drifted to the third, however, your breath caught, that familiar but long-forgotten whirlwind in your stomach. your eyes drank him in greedily, the way a child gulps down a soda at a friend's house. so similar, someone in your mind whispered don't tell mom.

he was the tallest of the three, and the broadest, too, his chest a wide expanse, arms and legs practically tree-like in his canvas uniform. it was his face that really had you, though. he was beautiful in a way you had never seen before, in a surreal sort of way. the kind of face that saved you in a dream, that you tried to conjure when you woke up but never could.

sharp jaw, sharper nose, the kind of cheekbones you had seen before only in a museum. full, pink, upturned lips, downwards sloping eyes that made him appear drowsy, like the personification of a midday nap. cheeks made rosy by the cold. even under his helmet you could see his thick, dark hair, so soft-looking. that was it, you thought. he just looked so soft, even though he appeared to be made of stone.

his presence made you shiver, which was only deepened when you met his eyes, dark and clear, found them already looking at you.

something in your gaze made him smirk, made your stomach drop. you crossed your arms closer around yourself, suddenly insecure under his scrutiny.

you hated the not-knowing, wished you could see yourself from his eyes, from the outside, so that you may correct yourself, angle and present yourself in some better way.

but his eyes only sparked with danger, not disappointment. cold? he mouthed to you, so as not to interrupt the conversation. his mouth formed the words slowly, deliberately, deliciously.

yes, you thought, half stunned he was communicating with you, the cold is why i'm shivering. definitely not you. definitely not your eyes.

so you only nodded slowly, felt your eyes widen as he walked towards you, shrugging off his jacket.

you stood, frozen in place, as he held it out to you in one huge hand. he offered it to you, someone he didn't know, someone who he owed nothing to, someone from whom he knew he could possibly receive nothing in return. and yet he offered it to you, regardless.

he was so close to you, now, just a step away. you tilted your head up to look at him. "don't you need it?" you asked, willing any squeak out of your voice. surely he would realize his mistake soon, realize you weren't worth it.

his chest shook in a low laugh. "what i need is for you to not freeze," he said, his voice much deeper, rougher, than you could have imagined. "just take it, darling, yeah?"

something in your mind screamed what do you want? at him in a voice dreary with fear, raspy with experience and expectation. what's the catch?

had you met him before? surely he couldn't be this sweet to you upon just seeing you, upon not even knowing your name. had you lent him notes in one of your classes, maybe spotted him a drink at a bar? you searched for an explanation that never came.

but at that point you probably would have done anything he asked, which you knew was not good. which you knew was very, very dangerous.

which was bad, but true, so you shouldered his jacket on, found it almost oppressive in warmth. "thank you," you told him, little more then a whisper, letting your voice trail off like a question.

"arber," he finished for you.

"arber," you repeated, knowing as soon as the name died on your tongue your mouth would feel empty, would long to form the word again.

he didn't walk back to his former place, either, instead electing to stay just next to you. just close enough to make you feel almost faint. one of your housemates wolf-whistled. you imagined the image looked fairly comical, a massive oak tree of a fireman with an 80's mullet and mustache combo next to a university pre-dentistry junior in pajamas, swimming in his coat.

but you couldn't think too much about that as you gave him your name, tried to keep your eyes trained on his face. a tough task, considering the way his arms looked unobstructed by his jacket.

everything about him was distracting. your heart was racing. how were you going to be able to get back to sleep after this?

"well, ladies, i hope you've learned your lesson," the chief said, appearing to finish a speech you had missed entirely.

"sure have, officer," your roommate said stoically.

"not an officer, miss," he corrected. the shake in his head was telling, made your housemates snicker.

"apologies, sir," she finished, giving him a salute.

"sorry you guys had to come all the way out here," one of your other housemates said.

"no trouble at all," arber said, his first time speaking to everyone. he was looking only at you. melting you like snow in the morning.

"until next time," your roommate said with a little bow, turning to go back into the house, now silent.

"there won't be a next time, sweetness," you amended, forcing your gaze away from arber. she waved you off.

reluctantly, you made to shrug off arber's jacket, hand it back to him as the other two firemen got back into their truck, your housemates walking back inside, leaving just the two of you.

"sure you don't need it?" he asked, the roughness in his voice somehow gentle. his words coming out in exactly the shape of the hole in your chest.

you gave a light laugh. "think i'll survive the trek back," you said, referring to the several steps between you and the front door. "thanks again, arber."

"my pleasure, darling," he said, and your cheeks flushed at the term. this brutal cold, you thought, making my face pink.

his lips quirked in a way that made your stomach flip. a way that made you so suddenly sure he knew exactly what effect he had on you. exactly how little the cold had to do with it.

"well," you said, your hands laced behind you, your voice taking on a melodic sort of cadence. "i guess i'll see you around, hm?"

"hope so," he hummed, something amusing in his tone. something careful. "sweet dreams, darling."

"good night, arber," you answered, dazed and blushy. like saying goodnight to an old friend, to a middle school boyfriend, to someone who knew you too personally to be real.

but somehow, it was saying goodbye to someone whom you had known for only moments.

the truck pulled away, you shut the front door behind you.

"should i just leave my iron on 24/7?" your roommate asked immediately, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. "maybe throw some rocks in the microwave?"

you rolled your eyes at her. "oh, please," you said.

"don't worry," she finished, an impish smile on her pretty, round face. "i'll wait until you're in the shower, next time."

you playfully slapped her arm as you made your way back into your room, not bothering to stifle both of your giggles.

you went to sleep that night with mirages of dark brown eyes and corded shoulders in your head. you swore you could smell smoke, could feel flame, could sense danger.

the feeling stayed with you, settled like ash in your bones. a heat, a skepticism, a want, a worry. you halfway hoped you would never see him again, because when had one person ever had such an effect on you? when had you let them?

you halfway hoped you would never see him again, but as soon as you did see him again, you knew that hope had been a complete and utter lie.

it was only a few days later, in the middle of your serving shift at the pub close to campus. only a wednesday, so nothing too busy, just a regular shift. your regular black uniform, long braid down your back with black ribbon, everything the same as always.

and then he was in a booth, practically taking up the whole bench, his deep laugh at something one of his friends had said making you dizzy.

surely it's not him, you thought as you took out your guest check pad, it couldn't be him. how could you have gone twenty one years without seeing him once, then see him twice in a week?

what trickster god was toying with you, now?

and then you were standing in front of his table, and it couldn't be him, but it was. of course it was.

but you didn't know if he would recognize you without your pajamas on, couldn't fathom that he could have dreamed of you with the vigor you had him, so you went on, business as usual.

"hi, guys," you said, your customer service voice ringing through the air like a bell. muscle memory had you placing napkin coasters down in front of each person. "can i get some drinks started for you?"

you took the orders of the others before finally locking eyes with arber. it wasn't any easier than you remembered. it wasn't any cooler, didn't feel any less like being engulfed in flame. "and for you?" you asked, hating how you couldn't just admit to recognizing him. hating how your mind preferred crafting protective plans to just being honest.

but he upended you, as you should have perhaps expected. his smirk was subtle. "am i that forgettable, darling?" he asked, like it was just the two of you.

the answer was so obvious you could have rolled your eyes, but you just cleared your throat and choked on a laugh, happy to have an excuse to show your delight. the insecurity in your head sighed in relief.

"arber!" you exclaimed, clicking your pen nervously, "thought that was you."

he nodded towards your general figure. "good to see you warm," he said with that rough voice you could feel in your chest like a bullet.

you hummed. "good to see you," you said, not bothering to add a condition.

something he noticed, something that made him smile, therefore something so, so worth the risk. your grin overtook your face all at once, toothy and real.

it appeared to shock him as much as you, his expression suddenly one of wonder, of awe.

you cleared your throat again, rediscovered the other people at the table, went to get everyone's drinks and then ran their food orders to the kitchen.

and you tried not to dwell on the way his hand looked around a glass, like it was kid's toy in a play kitchen, tried not to zone out on his lips as they formed words, not to blush whenever he looked at you.

you only laughed, mumbled a thank you when he joking said this was the best service he had ever had.

when he asked how you day had been, you had just blushed, muttered something affirmative, tried not to drop the glass you were holding, hated how anyone's attention, never mind a man's, could render you so helpless.

it was a whole lot of trying, a whole lot of awareness and controlling your own limbs, your own reactions like a marionette puppet. this way, you guided your arms, lined with plates of food. that way, you led your legs. these words, no, not those ones. no, no blushing, no not like that.

your marionette puppet appeared defective in many ways, many frustrating ways.

it was the slowest shift of your life. you felt oh so tired by the time arber's table asked for the check, felt oh so embarrassed by how hard you had been trying all night, hated how it was impossible for you to hide your effort.

it was all over you. it was in the slight sheen of sweat on your upper lip, in the strands of hair that had come free from your braid, in the way your voice shook when he spoke to you, the wobble in your knees when your eyes met.

you were trying so devastatingly hard, and you knew he could see, that everyone could see. was it terrible, was it so naive of you to hope maybe he wouldn't mind? that maybe the effort would flatter him instead of scare him away?

when you came to give back the card and receipt, his friends had gone. it was only him, taking up all that space in the booth.

he smiled when he saw you. it was soft. he was soft, this marble man.

you placed the check on the table. "there you are," you said, threading your empty hands together behind your back, part of you scared their idleness would lead to reaching for him. "thanks for coming," you added, then physically cringed.

thanks for coming? what, like this was some party you'd thrown?

he laughed, low and gentle, at your expression. of course, he was laughing at you. how could he not, with how you were acting? your head dropped like it was full of bricks as you flushed, as hot shame began to pull at the edges of your face.

but then you felt him take your chin in one of his large, rough hands, tilt your head back up high to meet his gaze. there was nothing but softness in his hands, in his eyes. no judgement, nothing of the sort.

his touch felt like drowning in flame, even in this small dosage, and you knew immediately it was too dangerously good. you swallowed.

when was the last time someone had touched you like this and you hadn't secretly wished they would only just leave you alone?

"thanks for inviting me," he said, playing along with your words so mercifully. "think maybe you'll have me again?"

you nodded, couldn't stop your shy smile. "maybe," you said, your voice a breath.

too soon, his hand was gone, leaving your face cold, lacking.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, quiet and hopeful.

"'course," he said, like he would never deny you such a request.

"i sort of feel like i've met you before," you said.

"i don't know," arber said thoughtfully, "think i'd remember someone like you."

your mouth ticked. "someone like me?"

he tilted his head, just looked at you for a moment, his gaze comfortable in its greed, its genuine appreciation. "why do you think we've met?"

you shook your head. "something about you," you said, trying to figure it out yourself. like i dreamed you up, you thought, are you real? are you sure?

his smile was subtle. "hope it's something good, eh? something like you?" too soon, he was signing his receipt, and then he was up, walking towards the door, to his waiting friends. "sweet dreams, darling," he said, like there was no one else in the pub, in this universe.

if he had told you as much, you would have believed him.

after a moment to catch your breath, you took the receipt from the table, found not only a generous tip but a phone number and a child-like scrawl that read coffee?

your head bowed in delight. when was the last time someone had asked you out? had not texted you deep into the night, at the time when the parties were ending and something much more terrifying was just beginning?

when was the last time you were nervous for a date, but the innocent kind of nervous?

you were that innocent kind of nervous when you approached the agreed-upon coffee shop several days later, at the middle of the day, between your classes.

there he was, standing in front of the cafe, hard to miss in stature and presence.

you had spent a scary amount of time deciding what to wear, eventually landing on what you wore everyday. you gave him a timid wave, were met with a confident wave back.

do i shake his hand? you thought. no, i've worn his jacket. maybe a high five?

your overthinking was quickly overwhelmed by the realization that he was pulling you in close for a hug.

you froze for a moment, your mind short-circuiting, your body uneasy, unused to such casual gentleness, ease.

your head against his chest, his arms all the way around you, you probably could have passed out. your mind mumbled something about cardiac arrest as you slowly hugged him back.

he smelled like the forest, like dull smoke and wooden fog.

"swear you get prettier every time i see you, darling," he said as you both pulled away, his eyes full of sweetness.

you had to close your eyes as you breathed out a laugh, already turning pink. "you sure know how to embarrass me," you said, teasing, trying to recover.

he held the door open for you as you both entered the cafe. "it's too tempting," he argued, smiling. "that blush you get..." he trailed off as if lost in his mind. sparks, smoke, flame, ash.

you knew the feeling.

he ordered some kind of sugar-bomb, practically a coffee milkshake, you ordered your usual flat white with soy milk.

and you were out of practice when it came to first dates, but it didn't seem to matter. he didn't seem to notice the pauses you took to think about your words, or if he did, he didn't say anything.

you learned that he was on the hockey team, that he was a volunteer fire-fighter for the school, about where he was from and his family.

he asked about your family, about your studies, about your job, what you did for fun.

and when you told him how much you loved your pre-dentistry classes, he made a joke and popped his fake tooth in and out, which made your laugh come so easy.

you told him how much you looked forward to seeing your sister, how funny your shift the day before had been, how much you loved your house's movie nights.

he asked about you, and it dawned on you that your last boyfriend had never truly asked you simple questions like that, and he certainly had never cared about the answers.

you had sudden flashbacks, you and your ex in bed, you asking him about his week, him giving you some dismissive response as if you had asked him if you could take out some of his teeth sans anesthesia.

how, towards the end, it had felt as if you were engaged in some kind of corrupt exchange, sex for tolerance of your curiosity, sex for tolerance of you.

the memory sent a shiver down your spine, a wave of shame. you could not go through that again. you refused to put yourself through that again.

through the relentless begging for something, for attention? no, begging to be treated like a person? like a girlfriend? begging for him to just be a little more gentle. yes, that's it. you had gone months feeling like nothing but a burdensome bag of stones he had reluctantly agreed to carry around, and you refused to feel that way again.

you just wanted gentle. you just wanted soft, and when arber waved a hand in front of your face to break you from your trance, you realized it might not be crazy to think you were close.

"you okay, darling?" he asked, concern lacing his expression. "lost you, hm?"

"'m okay," you said, shaking your head. "sorry, just thinking."

"'bout what?" he asked.

your heart jumped at the intimacy of being asked such. of someone wanting to know what was going on in your head.

so, you decided to be honest, to an extent. "'bout how 'm very happy to be here, with you," you said, looking him in the eye. feeling no desire to look away.

his face was so utterly pleased. he looked so beautiful then, the sun drenching the side of his face, lighting him up. "makin' me blush, now, darling," he said, and his tone made you swoon.

"sorry," you said, an instinct that made you want to smack yourself.

"don't apologize," he said immediately, "i know i'll get you back."

talking with him felt just so easy that you were again struck with a disbelief that you had only known him for a few days, had only spoken with him a couple of times. you felt like he was inside of your head, like he always had been. something you had never felt before, something that had you saying yes much too quickly when he asked if you wanted to come skating with him that weekend.

you had never skated before, but you were sure if he had asked you to watch paint dry, you would have said yes, because it would have been with him.

but the rational part of your brain was currently overwhelmed by fear, by insecurity, by the terror that you would lose this great thing before you had ever really had it.

"what was i thinking?" you said to your roommate as you struggled to find something to wear. "i have no idea how to skate! i'm going to look like an idiot!"

she waved you off. "you won't, you know you won't. deep breath."

you both took a breath together, tried to exhale some of your nerves.

the quiet that followed felt like another friend. you sighed, sat down on the edge of your bed, held your head in your hands.

"i can't keep thinking like this," you said to her and yourself. "i can't be so fucking scared all the time."

"c'mon, love," she said, sitting next to you and holding you tight. "what will feel better, do you think? coming home after avoiding rejection, walls intact?" she squeezed you. "or maybe coming home with another person to lean on?"

you both knew the answer. you wanted so badly to act accordingly, hoped your overactive mind would let you.

so, when you showed up at the rink, you made the ittiest-bittiest promise to yourself that you wouldn't let your fear get in the way.

if only you knew he would never have let you. that he could never be so easily scared.

he greeted you with a hug once again, and you held him tighter than you had the first time. "thanks for coming," he said, a spark of a shared inside joke in his eye.

"thanks for having me," you replied immediately, a mirroring smile on your face. "'m gonna be honest with you-"

"please do," he said immediately, and you could have melted.

"i have no idea how to skate," you rushed, "so i'm going to be very slow and probably fall and it's probably gonna get ugly."

he let you finish, an amused sort of smirk overtaking his mouth.

"what's so funny?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

"i think you're funny," he said, simply.

you scrunched up your face. "you makin' fun of me, arber?"

he laughed, then, low and rough and grumbly as he reached his hands around you and settled them on the small of your back. "oh, pretty baby, promise 'm not, yeah?"

you pouted, but rested your palms on his chest nonetheless.

his gaze cut through you. "don't expect you to be good at everything, okay? i'll help you," he explained. "just think it's funny you think anything you do could be ugly. imperfect isn't ugly."

"i'll prove you wrong," you said immediately, although you were flushed already, could feel yourself soften, your walls crumble just a bit.

his shoulders shook again. "promise you'll stick around long enough to?"

you had nothing to say to that. what could you ever say?

and then you were out on the ice, more off-balance than you had ever been, and not just because of the skates.

he held your gloved hands in his, tight but not restrictive, keeping his eyes on yours. you willed some of the steadiness in his gaze into your body, found stability in him and let it flow into you like water. he was basically pulling you, but you were moving, and you weren't falling, so you took it as a win.

"'atta girl," he said when you made a turn, soft, proud, and you could have laughed. surely he knew what he was doing, no?

your eyes darted up to his, found a lazy smirk, found your answer.

you shook your head, continued to push with your legs, gaining confidence, gaining balance. "turn off the dream boy for a second, would you?" his smirk deepened. "'m tryna focus, here."

"my fault, darling," he said, false apology saturating his voice as he suddenly dropped your hands. "by all means."

you stumbled forward into him immediately, your body unused to the ice without him to ground you.

you narrowed your eyes at him, looking up at his face, your palms against his chest, his arms around your waist. "not funny," you said, giving him a playful slap. "i could have broken something."

he shot you a look. "you honestly think i'd let that happen?"

your gaze dropped for a second. "no," you sighed. "no, i don't." a revelation in itself.

he pulled you closer, pressed his lips to your hair in a kiss that singed. so quick, you could have missed it. maybe you would have, if you hadn't been so unconditionally in tune to him, to everything he did, to every breath that shook his chest, to every quirk of his mouth and glint of his eye.

your heart sang at the affection you had been so lacking, had somehow missed even though you had never really had it.

so, of course it was a no-brainer when he asked you to come to his next home game.

"i'd really like if you were there," he said as he untied your skates for you, bent on one knee in front of you.

"then i'll be there," you said, flushed, because it was the easiest answer you had ever given. when he gave you that big smile in return, so genuine and goofy, you knew you would have a hard time saying no to anything he asked. just keep smiling at me, your mind begged him. that's all i ask.

the game came quickly, suddenly, after a busy week of shifts and school and everyday things. before you knew it, the day was here, and then you were in the stands, watching him skate like it was second nature, like it came easier than walking.

you had been able to tell at your rink date that he was steady on his feet, but this was different entirely. this was like seeing him at home, like watching him fall asleep.

and it beautiful, it was lovely, it was so intimate until two players started to fight and you realized one of them was him.

one of the people throwing punches that looked lethal, taking fists to the ribs, to the jaw, one of the people with a bleeding nose, a gashed lip, one of the people with blood running down his knuckles - that was your arber. your dream boy.

it wasn't, but it was you - you were the one throwing the right hook, you were the one doubled over, you were the one spitting out blood. you were equally the one punching and being punched. you had set the flame, you were burning.

was it terrible that you felt a little sick to your stomach? you clutched at the edge of your seat, exhaled a short breath, immediately decided you would rather leave than watch blood run down his face on the jumbotron.

as you left the arena, got into your car, drove back to your house, someone in your head was screaming at you, someone with a shrill, panicked voice was screamed scared, scared, scared, scared, scared and you didn't know how to get them to stop.

why are we running? you asked the voice in your head, what are we so afraid of?

what are you so afraid of?

because it wasn't him, you explained to your roommate at some later time, maybe the next day, after the desire to bathe in silence had been overcome by the desire to tell just about anyone.

you were not afraid of arber, knew there had never been anyone in the world more gentle with you. no, there had never been someone who had treasured your heart so truly, who had wanted to understand you to an almost scientific extent, who had dropped into your life like an asteroid and blown it apart just as similarly.

if not him, then what is there to fear?

what is there to fear, if not placing your beat-up heart in his bloodied hands? what is there to fear, if not the desire to press your lips to each of his cracked knuckles, the urge to know him to the point of no return, the want to feel his teeth on your neck, his fingers in your mouth?

sirens went off in your mind. scared, scared, scared.

scared of you, yourself, of offering yourself up to him, to being devastated by him. scared of being so completely vulnerable, of taking all your armor off, finally.

in the end, you were terrified of how scared seeing him hurt made you, because that meant you cared much more than you thought, perhaps much more than you had ever before.

how come no one told you that as much as being scared for yourself hurt, being scared for someone else, that was real fear, pure and undiluted.

a fear captivating enough that you decided to just not deal with it for days, to ignore his texts even though it hurt like a dagger to the chest.

he'll lose interest eventually, you thought, he'll leave me alone eventually. then, finally, i won't have to be scared.

so why did that admission feel like being burned at the stake? why was some small part of you screaming at you to stop?

regardless, you held fast for three days.

and then your roommate put rocks in the microwave.

so you and your housemates stood in the front yard, the air deja-vu-inspiringly cold, the situation almost exactly the same as that first night.

"what's wrong with you?" you whispered-yelled at her. "how do you accidentally almost blow up our house?"

she waved you off, pouted for a moment. "you know how forgetful i get."

"yeah, i don't know if forgetful is the adequate descriptor here," one of the other girls said. "i have a few more specific words in mind."

"oh, come on," you roommate said to the group as the fire truck siren began to yet again overwhelm the smoke alarm. "god forbid a girl make a mistake around here."

you didn't hear the rest of the bickering, too busy sending up a silent prayer, begging some god, any god to listen. please, don't be him. please, if there is anything good in this world, it won't be him.

but, of course, as soon as you saw the massive figure climb down from the truck, you paled.

there might not be anything good, some voice told you then, but perhaps there is something right.

"long time no see, ladies," the same older fireman said, and that was the last thing you heard. the last thing that any of your senses consumed before all of them were so brutally and totally overwhelmed by arber.

because what was he, if not overwhelming? especially now, after having deprived yourself of him for days? how had you managed that?

seeing him here, in front of you, you had no idea.

because he was here, in front of you, this beautiful oaken man, and his hair was messy under his helmet, and his face was flushed from the cold, and his five-o'clock shadow made his jaw sharper, and you could feel his warmth from here.

because he was here, walking to you, right in front of you, dropping his giant jacket onto your shoulders silently, somehow, somehow he was still that kind, and then he was whispering to you.

"alive, are you?" he murmured, as if he almost couldn't believe it.

and you felt so selfish then, the guilt growing like poison ivy in your veins, up your throat, until you couldn't open your mouth for fear that only three-pronged leaves would come out.

you looked up at him, met his eyes, found them burning but unreadable.

a pause that felt infinite deflated as you struggled for words. "listen, arber-"

but he shook his head, almost looked sorry. "don't think i will, darling," he whispered, the name making your stomach sink. someone screamed in your head. "don't care much for hearing why 'm not worth a phone call."

you were shaking your head before he even finished. "no, no, arber, please, that's not it-" your voice was so close to cracking, splitting apart like brittle wood.

"what is it, then?" he said, and you noticed a quiver in his voice too, a warning, "because i've been trying to come up with something for days, and every option i've got hurts."

oh, good god, you had made him hurt? that alone was dizzying.

dizzying and so, so sobering, enough for you to mutter something aloud about arber helping you turn the smoke alarms off, pull him into your house, up into your room.

you barely noticed the alarms subsiding, him hitting all of the necessary buttons wordlessly on his way up the stairs.

and then he was in your room, and you two were alone, and he was sitting on the edge of your bed, taking his helmet and boots off, crossing his arms across his chest.

"by all means," he prompted. "tell me i'm crazy, darling, please, please tell me i've got something wrong."

you took a breath, set the marionette puppets strings down, finally. there was no leading your limbs anywhere, no running words over one million time in your head until you had the right ones.

it was finally time to set aside the fear, to unfurl your forever clenched fists.

your exhale was liberating as you approached him, not touching him, not yet, but close enough so that you could see his eyes, so that he could see the revelation in yours.

"you're not crazy," you said, the softness in your voice surprising you. "i've been trying so, so hard to make you think i don't care."

he scoffed, ran a hand through his messy hair, mercifully waited for you to finish.

"and i'm so, so sorry that i didn't call, and that i left during your game, and that i treated you like you were anything but special, arber."

he looked up at you then, and you saw a soft spark of hope in his eyes that spurred you on.

it was silent for a beat, and then he reached for your hand, held it in his grip, warm and consuming.

"i thought i scared you away," he said, vulnerable, completely honest.

you squeezed his hand, stepped closer, cupped his jaw in your other palm. "i was afraid," you admitted, and that alone felt like salvation. "but not of you." you swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb. "never of you."

with a single swift motion he tugged you onto his lap, both of his hand on your hips. there might not be anything good, that voice whispered like a gossipy teen, but perhaps there is something right. perhaps this is it.

"tell me," he said, not an order but a request.

you would have told him anything, then, as you reached up to loop one arm around his neck, use the other hand to twist one of his curls around your finger. "i hated seeing you hurt," you confessed, moving your fingers down to trace lightly over the greenish bruise next to his eye, the healing gash on his lip. "you give me so much more to lose, baby."

he was silent, still, so close you could feel his shaky exhales on your hand. you willed yourself to finish your thoughts, refused to leave him anything but completely certain, even if it was hard to focus with him under you, against you, all around you. even under the exceptional spotlight of his undivided attention.

"i was lying when i acted like i didn't want you," you said, your tone every bit as ultimate as you felt. "and i understand if you don't forgive me, and i won't hold it against you, but i promise i won't lie to you again, okay?"

you held his face like it was made of glass. his grip on your hips tightened, eyes bursting further into flame.

"let me convince you," you pleaded, willing every genuine thing from your bones into your words. "you have to believe me, baby, i care so, so much. a scary amount."

and something in you sighed, swooned, when you saw that amusement you had missed creep back into his gaze like a fog on the ocean.

his thumbs rubbed circles into the flesh of your hips as you relaxed further into him. "scary, hm?"

you nodded, peered up at him through your lashes.

"how about this, darling?" he offered, voice a tired rasp. "i'll believe you if you do one thing for me, yeah?"

"anything," you said, meaning it more completely than anything before.

the glint in his eye was dangerous as his grip turned firmer. he gave a hum of approval. "tell me something true."

after trying just so deliriously, terrifyingly hard for so long, nothing had ever come easier. with him, now, the truth was easy as breathing. "i want you," you breathed, running your nails lightly down his neck, relishing in his stifled groan. "so, so bad, arber. need you, please." your chest rose and fell in a hurried breath. had you ever been so free of fear? so buoyant with hope, with courage?

he hoisted you up on his lap, pulled you against his chest until it felt as if there was barely enough air to share between the two of you. "good girl," he said, a rough, low, rasp, and he caught your whimper in his teeth as your lips met his.

his kiss felt like molten iron, like forest fire smoke, like initials carved into a heart on an ancient oak tree. he felt like sun on your face and like drowning, drowning, drowning, this kind of torture one you would happily submit to over and over again.

you tangled your hands in his hair as he groaned into your mouth, pulling you up on his lap until you could feel him, so big and hard under you that you let out a gasp.

he smiled against your lips at your reaction, and you knew there would never be anything so glutted with bliss.

you kissed him harder, with the urgency of a thousand missed chances as he rocked you back and forth across his lap, slipping his hands under the waistband of your sleep shorts, his hands now scorching your bare skin.

"look so good in my jacket, darling," he rasped, "let me take it off, hm? want to see you."

you shrugged it off in obedience, placed both your hands on his chest and looked him in the eye, pleading.

one of his hands brushed your hair away from your face, gentle, soft, as you had always known him to be. he dragged his thumb down to your swollen lip, let it rest there for a moment.

"'f you want something, just ask," he grumbled, transfixed by your mouth. "know i'll give you anything you want 'f you ask for it, darling."

you pulled at his shirt, willed any oncoming flush or fear away. "please can i suck you off, arber?"

his smirk was devastating, delicious. "pretty baby wants me in her mouth?"

you nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips.

"course you can, darling, askin' so pretty for me, too."

you glowed at his praise, sunk down to your knees, admired him as he pulled away at his layers of clothes until finally you could reach for him, hold him in your hand, hot and heavy and just so big, so much so that you couldn't help your eyes widening, your mouth watering.

he groaned at your touch, tilted his head back and scrunched his eyes shut at the sensation of your soft palms on his cock.

you hid your grin, spit into your hands and pumped him up and down a few times before taking him in your mouth, making him moan, almost growl as he gathered all of your hair, wrapped it around his fist, the other hand bracing him against your bed.

"fuck, darling," he rasped, watching you bob your head up and down, "feels so good, so good for me, hm?"

you would have nodded, but instead you were overcome with a desire to take more of him, as much as you could. so you sunk your head down further, until your eyes watered, until air came in short spurts, until you gagged, felt him grow impossibly harder in your mouth.

he gripped your hair tighter, making you moan on his cock. "oh, darling, you want more, hm?"

you hummed, looked up at him through watery lashes, reddening eyes.

"want to take it all, do you?" he asked, "just want me to feel good, is that it?"

you moaned in affirmation, sunk your head down on him again, as far as you could go, relished in his groan, the way his thighs tensed, the way his forearms flexed.

already, your jaw was growing stiff, your shoulders strained, your knees warm from the carpet. too soon, though, he was pulling you up off of him, up from your knees back on top of him, wiping the spit from the sides of your mouth with his thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to your tired lips.

you pouted, wanting more still, and his shoulders shook in a low laugh. "not done, darling?"

you shook your head, ran your nails across his shoulders, down to his biceps, loved the way you could feel shivers erupt under your fingertips.

"i'll give it to you if you ask," he reminded you, simply, because of course it was that simple, that gentle.

you pressed your lips to his chest, his neck, his jaw, bit down softly on his collarbone. "please fuck me," you begged against his skin, "been wanting it forever, arber, need you to fuck me, need you to stretch me out."

in a moment he flipped you so that your hips were angled up to him, your chest against your bed, your cheek to your sheets.

"been waiting, have you, darling?"

you whined, nodded.

"no more waiting," he said, running his fingers through your folds, already so wet, "promise, no more waiting, pretty baby, okay?"

"please," you mustered, the end of the word becoming strangled as he began to push into you. it was altogether too much - every possible voice inside of you screaming too much and not enough in some cacophonous harmony.

his groan was raw, full of relief, release, confirmation. he held onto your hip tightly with one hand, the other wrapping around your stomach to keep you grounded, keep you here as you felt like you were floating away.

the pressure was dizzying, staggering, enough that your breathing was choked, your mind completely clouded, your already watery eyes just barely holding back tears.

you reached a hand back to grasp at his forearm as he pushed further, almost all the way inside of you. you whimpered as the stretch reached a peak, as he stilled, making the stray, warm tears finally fall down your cheeks, hang on your jaw before collecting on the sheets under you.

"so pretty when you cry, darling," he breathed, tight and short as you adjusted to him, and he to you.

"please, arber, just move, hm?" you pleaded. "need it, please."

his embrace around your middle tightened as he began to move in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, almost undetectable.

"so whiny, hm?" he bit out. "pretty baby knows what she wants?"

you nodded feverishly. "just give it to me, baby, please, just let me take it."

"don't know if you can," he said, and you pouted. "don't want to hurt you, hm?"

you clutched at his forearm, began to fuck back onto him, determined to get the motion and pace you needed so desperately.

"want it to hurt, arber, please, please give me all of it," you spoke with all of the greed of a sinner seeking salvation. "need all of it."

he abandoned any qualms about hurting you, immediately adopting a brutal pace, so hard and deep you swore your teeth began to chatter. you bit out a choked moan, grabbed at your sheets with your fist, scrunched your eyes shut at the pressure building inside of you.

his grunts grew rhythmic in time with his thrusts. "feel so good, know that, darling?" he rasped. "being so fuckin' perfect for me."

you hummed in response, gasped when he ran a hand across your clit, making you clench tighter around him.

he cursed at the sensation, continued to tease you as he thrusted deeper.

"like that," you breathed, growing dangerously close, "fuck, just like that baby, right there."

"gonna make me cum, darling," he warned, pressing his palm flat against your clit, the friction maddening. "feel too good."

"please cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice raw, "need it so bad, arber, need all of you." you moaned. "fuck, give me all of it."

he groaned as he came, triggering your own orgasm, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed you utterly and entirely. you felt him collapse on top of you, barely registered him pulling you into his side as you both caught your breath in comfortable silence.

moments passed slowly, thick like aged honey, fragrant, sweet.

he lazily traced his thumb across your cheekbone, down your jaw, your collarbone. eventually, you looked up at him, found his eyes full of something homely.

you thought briefly about how you looked in that moment, what he was seeing - spit on your face, skin probably splotchy and red in places from wear, hair fussed and skin sparkling with sweat.

notably, though, the thought evoked no fear, not even for a moment. because you were beautiful like this, like always.

you exhaled a breath, soft, gentle, and buried some ancient curse with it.

the silence was blissful. eventually you heard loud footsteps on the wooden hallway steps, eye widening as you realized there were other people that lived in this house, in this room.

you pressed a hand to his chest to prepare him. "sweetness!" you called out. "do not come in here!"

"why?" came your roommate's voice through the door. "is there a fire?"

you exchanged a look with arber.

"kidding!" she added, her voice growing more distant. "i'll be in the kitchen. big guy, chief left without you!"

your shoulders shook in a pleased, peaceful laugh. he smiled at you, then, a warm, soft smile with teeth, and what was there left to do but smile right back? "what'm i supposed to do, darling?" he asked.

you got up, slowly, reluctantly, tied your robe from the bathroom around yourself, handed him his clothes. "c'mon," you said, "i'll show you the kitchen."

he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to your lips before tugging on his clothes, grabbing his helmet.

i'll show you everything went unsaid by you, but not misunderstood by him.

he held your bedroom door open, holding your gaze with a goofy grin. "after you," he rasped.

you bowed past him and wordlessly told the picture frames in the hallway to behave, we have guests.

fin.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months

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We’ve Got Tonight || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader Summary: When you catch your boyfriend cheating you get your sweet revenge and a handsome stranger who steps in to protect you. Warnings: being cheated on, angst, injury

Songs: Shania Twain - Man! I feel like a woman Garth Brooks - Friends in low places Carrie Underwood - Before he cheats Kenny Rogers & Sheena Easton - We’ve got tonight

Lando couldn’t believe he had let Daniel drag him out to the Texan bar. It was completely polar opposite to anything he was used to, but Danny fit right in with his Stetson hat and cowboy boots.

Lando winced into his glass as the latest woman to take the corner stage butchered a Shania Twain song but it didn’t seem to bother his drinking buddy as he left to join the rows of people line dancing. Lando was grateful when the song came to an end but it was short lived as he heard a familiar Australian accent on the mic talking the band into playing Friends in Low Places. Spinning around on his stool at the bar, the McLaren driver found his old teammate on the small stage grinning like a fool as the music started.

Lando watched the older driver and envied the confidence he had to sing terribly to a bar full of strangers. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t hold a note or match the key - Daniel had presence and was always entertaining. The song was almost over when a change of light caught Lando’s eye and he swivelled back to see the saloon doors swing shut behind you.

Lando nearly fell off his chair. The sight of your smile was dazzling and he swore the colours in the room were brighter because of it. He hardly remembered to breathe as you cast your eyes around the bar, searching for something he suddenly hoped he had. Disappointment landed heavy on his chest as your pretty eyes settled on the pool tables and he wondered which one of the handsome men was lucky enough to have you.

He started to turn away and wash the bitter taste of jealousy from his mouth with his drink when he saw the smile dim. It was like a cloud had come and blocked the sun, shadows curving your lips down until they pressed to a hard line and your eyes narrowed on a man. Lando swallowed at the change thinking you was even more beautiful, like lightning in a thunderstorm. Beautiful, dangerous, deadly.

Then you were gone, the tassels on your boots swaying quickly as you disappeared out the door as quickly as you came.

“Whatcha looking for?” Daniel asked as he dropped back into his seat. Lando hadn’t even noticed the song had ended while he watched the empty space in the doorway, another singer taking the stage.

“N-nothing,” he stammered quickly as he turned back to the bar and raised his glass to his dry lips.

“Whatever you say, mate,” Daniel chuckled as he clapped Lando on the back. “She was hot though, right?”

Lando coughed and sputtered on his drink as Daniel laughed knowingly. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but I’m not blind. And since you’re single, you should get off your ass and lasso yourself a lady friend. You know what they say: save a horse, ride a cowgir-” Lando clamped a hand over Daniel’s mouth as his cheeks turned pink.

“You can’t say that, dude! You are totally going to get cancelled one day.”

Daniel shrugged and sent him a lopsided grin as he looked over Lando’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

—

White hot rage left your hands shaking as you dropped the baseball bat and walked away, the metal clanking loudly on the asphalt of the parking lot. You didn’t even notice the trickle of blood running down your fingertips from cutting your palm with Damon’s hunting knife when you slashed the tyres of his Ford Raptor. You couldn’t feel anything except the burning need for revenge.

All the joy you had felt on the drive to the bar had been forgotten. The phone call with the news seemed like a lifetime ago and you hated him all the more for ruining what should have been the best day of your life so far.

After years of hard work you were finally catching a break and had been signed to Big Loud and would soon be recording your own country music. You had been so excited you had left work early and driven across town to surprise Damon. What a surprise he would get.

You looked ahead at the bar you had left, still seeing the way he curled himself around her, the pretense of pretending to teach her how to play pool - the same trick he had used to get close to you the night you met. Rotten bastard. It made you question the last two years together and how many other women he pulled the same moves on. You were going to teach him a lesson, and maybe save her from the same fate.

You swaggered into the bar and felt eyes on you, but the only pair that didn’t turn were his. Damon was too enraptured by the woman dancing against him, a dainty cocktail spilling over her glass.

“Mind if I butt in next, Jimmy?” you asked the old man who loved to sing a bit of Kenny Rogers after a few drafts of beer.

“Not at all, pumpkin, been a while since you joined us.” The song was just finishing and Jimmy jutted his chin at Damon as he poured two shots of whiskey, offering one to you. “Say, ain’t that your old man?”

“Not any more.” You downed the shot and inhaled the burn before taking the stage and telling the band what to play.

—

Lando stepped off his stool as the song started and his feet carried him closer to the stage with Daniel right at his side, not that he noticed. You hadn’t even parted your lips but he knew, somehow he just knew, you would sound perfect. The song was one he recognised, maybe from a movie or just on the radio, but it hit differently when he saw your eyes boring holes into the couple still dancing together by the pool tables.

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky. Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whiskey. Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know…

Lando couldn’t breathe as he watched the realisation dawn on the stranger who looked up from the blonde woman he had been grinding on. The man’s jaw went slack and he half shoved the woman from his lap as he straightened up, a small shake of his head when he met the eyes on the stage. He could almost hear the whispered ‘oh no’ fall from his lips and he felt a smug satisfaction on your behalf.

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats.

Your smile was dark and you watched Damon blanch at the sight, only making you feel even better for what you had done.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, 'cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know it won't be on me. No, not on me.

“No, no, baby, no,” Damon whined as he tugged the short strands of his hair and rushed out of the bar, leaving his date in a state of confusion until her brain caught up and her hands shot to cover her mouth in shock.

“Yeah, he played us both, honey,” you said as you shoved the mic back in the stand and crossed your arms as the doors burst open.

“You crazy bitch!” Damon tried to rush the stage only to find himself shoved back by a handsome stranger who was apparently a lot stronger than he looked. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

“Not gonna happen, mate,” he said with a chuckle, his British accent sweet on the ears. “I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?”

“She ruined my fucking truck! Do you know how much that cost?”

You scoffed and stepped up behind the stranger, feeling bolder as you saw his arms flex ready to protect you. “Too much, but I guess you had to overcompensate for something small,” you said as your eyes darted to his trousers and the taller companion barely contained his laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Lando. She’s got fire.”

“Just give me my house key and leave, it’s over.” You held out your palm waiting until he fisted his keys from his pocket and cursed your name as he pulled it off the keyring.

“Where the fuck am I meant to live?”

You looked over at the woman and asked, “Do you want to take him home, honey?” She shook her head now that she knew he was a no good cheater and your smile widened as you turned back to Damon. “You’ll be nice and cozy in your pickup.”

He stepped forward but Lando’s friend joined him shoulder to shoulder and Damon quickly realised he was not going to win whatever went down. With his tail between his legs, he turned and grumbled his way out the door before the band started up and Jimmy kicked off with We’ve Got Tonight.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you said as the two strangers finally deemed it safe to turn their backs on the door and face you. A pair of stormy blue eyes met yours and you blinked twice before you managed to look away, scanning a quick glance over the messy styled curls on his head to the slim black t-shirt that fitted perfectly. Your lips dried as you realised you were staring and he cleared his throat when he caught himself doing the same.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You bit your lip at the offer and tipped your head to the side. “I think I should be the one buying you a drink, your friend too. It’s the least I can do.”

“Daniel,” the taller man said with a grin and held his hand out to shake.

“Y/N.”

“Enchanté.”

“Uh, bless you.”

Lando laughed and the sound brought a smile to your face. “I know how you can thank me,” he said as he nodded to Jimmy who was grabbing a second microphone and pointing it your way. “I’m fairly sure this song is a duet. Know it?”

You smirked as you stepped back and gave him a wink before taking the stage, his eyes never leaving yours and you sang just for him.

We've got tonight, Who needs tomorrow? Let's make it last, Let's find a way Turn out the light, Come take my hand now We've got tonight, babe, Why don't we stay?

His nod was almost imperceptible and you weren’t sure if you imagined it as you let the question hang in the air while the music faded out. In two long, self-certain steps, he closed the distance and offered his hand to help you down the steps and you grinned at the warmth of his palm as he laced your fingers with his.

Suddenly he froze and looked down, concern etching his features as he pulled his hand back and found it stained red. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”

You blinked at the cut on your palm, only noticing the ache after your attention was drawn to it. “Huh, guess that’s what I get for slashing his tyres,” you murmured with a weak laugh.

“He deserved more than that,” Lando growled as he led you to the bar and asked for a first aid kit. “But he definitely didn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t know me, I could be a terrible person.” You winced as he cleaned the cut before pressing a bandage to stem the bleeding.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character, Y/N.” He pinned the bandage into place before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing the top softly. “I knew it from your smile when you arrived, and everything after just proves you’re strong.”

Your chin dipped as you felt your face flush and you couldn’t remember the last time someone was so sweet. “You really know how to make a girl feel special. So how long are you in town for?”

His lips turned down slightly as he sighed and reluctantly admitted. “We fly back to London tomorrow.”

You felt the same disappointment but chased it away and squeezed his hand that still held yours, your eyes meeting with the same idea flitting past. “We’ve got tonight?”

His smile returned and grew until his eyes wrinkled with how wide it was, brightening up his whole face and sparking yours to match. “Yeah, we’ve got tonight.”

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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cherryheartssblog · 1 month

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SWEET LIKE CHERRY COLA

Summary: Inspired by Cola by Lana Del Rey. The countryside had always been home to Y/N and Joel. Joel became her neighbor a couple of years ago, catching her attention. One day, when the fair came to town, Joel decided to take Y/N out on a date to the town fair and out for a refreshing drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC (3rd POV)

Warnings: 18+, smut, smoking weed!, southern Joel!, cursing!, mentions of oral sex!, rough sex!, reader had a southern accent!, age gap relationship (reader age is not mentioned, Joel is in his 40s), reader is a graduate from college!, major summer vibes!- I know it's March, fluff!, smoking!, drinking!, reader wears dresses!, sharing drinks!, country vibes!, cute date!, mentions of divorce, mentions of Sarah death!- not mentioned how!, neighborjoel x reader!, thigh riding!, Joel calls reader a slut- a few times!, girlyreader!, praise kink!, cursing!, shower sex!, dom! Joel, jealous tendencies!, choking!, pet names!, dirty talk!, sub reader!, fluff!, and not fully edited.

A/N: I have been writing a lot of summer inspired stories, I'm honestly ready for it. Here something I threw together, I hope you enjoy💕 -they are so cute in this I swear! Please let me know if I missed any warnings!

“I got a taste for men who are older, it's Always been, so it's no surprise.” - Lana del rey

She honestly couldn't believe it. She honestly couldn't fucking believe anything right now.

Joel Miller asked her out on a date.

Joel fucking Miller. Her neighbor of all people, her father’s buddy.

She understood somethings have happened between them yes.. But a date?

Y/N and her family have lived in the same house for as long as she can remember. The family home is located in a quiet little town in the heart of Texas. The house is situated down a long gravel driveway, which stretches for about 5 to 8 miles and by two other farmhouses. The houses were once all part of the same property, but were eventually sold off by the town. Y/N's parents purchased the main house, which is located at the very end of the driveway. Her father, a skilled handyman, took on the task of renovating the house from top to bottom to make it a comfortable and welcoming home for his family.

Y/N had a deep attachment to her southern roots and cherished every moment spent in her home. However, when she left for college, everything changed. The swarming city life was a stark contrast to what she was used to, and Y/N found herself struggling with homesickness. As Y/N returned home for the first time after starting college, she couldn't help but notice a new neighbor who immediately caught her attention. Her eyes were drawn to this mysterious man, and she found herself intrigued by him.

Joel Miller.

Throughout her entire life, Y/N's neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, who lived in a charming farmhouse two miles down. The Johnsons had maintained the property well over the years, but as they grew older, it began to fall into disrepair. Y/N had fond memories of her father frequently lending a hand to Mr. Johnson with yard and house work. However, when both Mr. and Mrs. Johnson passed away, the house was eventually sold when Y/N turned 20 years old. One summer day, Y/N's mother, a sociable and kind-hearted person, made a casserole to welcome the new neighbors, and Y/N decided to join her in making the introduction to Joel, whom she was meeting for the very first time.

As soon as Y/N's father met the older mechanic, he knew they would get along. The two men bonded over their shared love of cars, and before long, the mechanic - Joel - became a regular visitor to their home. Y/N, who was attending college at the time, would sometimes be home when Joel visited. She found herself enjoying their conversations, and Joel had a way of making her laugh and smile.

As she got to know him better, Y/N discovered Joel's southern charm and gentle demeanor. She had always been drawn to older men, although she couldn't quite explain why. Despite the fact that her relationship with her father was not particularly close, she knew that he was a good man who loved his family.

Joel, a charming young man, had moved to the town a couple of years ago and had quickly become friends with Y/N. Over time, Y/N's initial crush had grown into a deep bond that she found herself craving more and more. Whenever Joel was around, she felt a palpable tension that made her heart race. He would often come to help her father around the farm, and every moment spent with him felt like an opportunity to get closer.

One night just a few months ago before spring break was over, Y/N and Joel had their first hook up. The tension finally broke, Y/N knew she would have guilt so did Joel- this was his friends daughter. But she was so irresistible. He had to have her, not just that one time after her father invited him over for a basebball game that weekend. But many time after that Joel kept crawling back to her. He never imagined falling for her though.

Y/N had just returned home from college, having graduated recently, and was now trying to start a life for herself. Despite her ambitions, she was thrilled to be back home with her parents, who welcomed their only child with open arms. She had taken up a job at a boutique that her mother's friend owned, which was a perfect fit for her as she was also trying to start a business of her own.

Y/N had spent the entire morning in the barn, surrounded by the sweet scent of hay and the gentle neighs of the horses. She was dressed in comfortable clothes, a pair of faded jeans and an old t-shirt, and was helping her father with the daily chores. Her parents were both at work, leaving her alone at the family home. It was a peaceful summer day, with the sun shining bright and the sky a clear blue.

Suddenly, she saw a familiar truck pull up outside the barn. It was Joel's truck, the one he had been fixing up for months. She could see that the vehicle was still half-painted with a reddish color, and it looked like he had put a lot of effort into it. As Joel stepped out of the truck, she couldn't help but notice how rough he looked. His clothes were dirty and sweaty, and he seemed nervous, though he tried to hide it by casually talking to her and helping her with the hay. Despite his appearance, Y/N still found him attatrive and still happy to see him and welcomed his company.

When Joel took his shirt off that had Y/N's throat tightened. Her eyes couldn’t help but shift to his bare chest. His jeans hung loosely around his waist, and the belt hugging them wasn’t working much with him moving around. Y/N shouldn’t think about this man this way; it had been too long though. She had not seen him since the couple weeks she had been home from school. Y/N had no idea if Joel was here to start something up again, maybe throw her on the tractor and fuck her.

Oh she shouldn't think that..

Just when she thought that, that’s when Joel asked her. Both were resting, sitting on the tractor parked inside the barn. Y/N could have fucked him on that tractor and not think twice about it.

“How’d ya feel bout going to the fair this weekend?”

Y/N was taken aback momentarily when Joel asked her out on a date - she had not even considered the possibility of him asking. They seemed to keep their relationship a Secert. She struggled to recall how she reacted at that moment, but she could feel her face getting warm. She felt like a silly middle schooler, stumbling over her words and thoughts. "Wait, like a real date with you?" Y/N blurted out, laughing nervously. Joel chuckled at her reaction, finding it endearing as he watched her cheeks turn rosy and her attempt to conceal her smile.

Joel's smile widened as he shrugged his shoulders. "Yes honey, like a date with me," he said, half-jokingly. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, but she quickly agreed, excited at the prospect of spending time alone with Joel. However, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension at her father finding out. They both decided to keep it a secret since Y/N's parents would be out of town for the weekend and didn't want to risk getting caught.

Joel gave her a deep kiss, and before Y/N could carry it on more than she wanted to, Joel pulled back. “I have to be at work, suga’,” Joel could tell she was pouting, poking her bottom lip out, and sitting on his lap. "Just a minute, Joel, please." Y/N pleaded against his lips, biting her own and looking up at him between her lashes. His smirk was dark, and his eyes even grew darker. She was grinding against him a little, causing a little friction on her clit. Y/N whimpered a little on his thigh as Joel balanced them on the tractor.

"You're just a little slut aren't ya, baby?" Joel teased her, chuckling in her ear that sent goosebumps down her neck, "Grinding on daddy's thigh, naughty girl." Y/N giggled, moaning as her hips moved against his thigh quickly. Joel chuckled at her; she was a mess already, even with her jean shorts still on.

"You're something else, baby; I want you to come in your little shorts," Joel told her, gripping her thighs tighter. She could barely form words, holding onto his sweaty bare shoulders. "I'm gonna come, daddy." She whimpered, her head throwing back, placing kisses on her neck.

Y/N felt herself cum in her underwear through her shorts, moaning out, feeling Joel's fingers through her hair. "I have to go to work, baby." Y/N whined as Joel laughed at her reaction, “I promise, baby, I'll make it up to you.” Joel placed multiple kisses on her lips that made her giggle and squeal. Her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His kiss deepened before breaking away, helping her up from the tractor.

Y/N was still shocked, watching Joel’s truck drive from the barn. She squealed, running out of the barn, jumping up and down, giggling like a schoolgirl to herself. She had this adrenaline, this rush that washed over her and made her feel good. Maybe a sort of type of confidence.

But he had just asked her on a date, But she had known him for years now.. they had been hooking up for months now.. maybe that helped her guilty conscience. What did not help her guilty conscience was the cum still sitting in her underwear.

Y/N felt like she changed a thousand times.

She finally picked out a dress that was flattering for the fair. The State Fair was usually filled with rides and games, and the food was the best part. A bunch of Southerners getting together cooking food and fair foods- it was honestly heaven.

Y/N had fond memories of visiting the fair with her friends and family when she was younger. However, this time was different. She was going on a date and knew people in her small, quiet town would talk about her. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious and anxious about the attention they would receive. Y/N hoped she could speak to her parents before the gossip got to her mother and created unnecessary drama.

Despite the potential consequences of their actions, the pair appeared unfazed and unconcerned about the possibility of being caught and facing judgment.

Y/N's ears perked up as she heard the familiar sound of Joel's truck approaching from outside. She grabbed her small purse and headed out to the driveway, where she saw that his car was now fully painted and looking as good as new. It had only been a couple of days since he had asked her out, and already he had taken the time to get his vehicle fixed up for their date. Joel quickly jumped out of the truck when he parked, rushing over to open the door for her like a true gentleman.

As Joel helped Y/N into his two-seated truck for their date, he couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. It had been a while since he had been on a date, and he wanted everything to go smoothly. Y/N giggled at his nervousness, finding it endearing that he was the one feeling anxious.

“You’ve never been this nervous around me,” Y/N giggled, Joel blushing at her comment, shrugging, “It's been a while since I dated, sweetheart. I don't wanna fuck this up.” His hand rested on her thigh, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I know been distant this past week; congrats on graduation, by the way, darlin’.” Y/N smiled, placing a hand where he rested.

“I want things to work out with you, sweetheart; I have just been nervous with my past relationships and the loss of Sarah,” Joel started to trail off; Y/N had heard it before she knew Joel's story. She wasn't going to make him have to say anything else. “Joel, I understand. I think it's cute you tryin’ to be slow.” Joel chuckled at her comment.

But as they drove to their destination, Y/N's curiosity got the best of her. She wondered how Joel felt about introducing him to her parents as a dating couple. After all, he was younger than her parents, but only by a few years. Would her parents approve of their relationship? Y/N couldn't help but wonder.

Y/N's lips curled with a hint of nervousness as she spoke, "You're not worried at all ‘bout my parents?" Her parents had always been rather strict, with her father being more strict than her mother. Y/N and her mother had a few secrets from her father, especially the time her mother caught her smoking with a boy down in the fields.

And the time drinking with Becca down at the school.

And the time she got caught with a boy home.

And the time.. Y/N might have gone through a phase of rebellion, where she engaged in activities that were perhaps not in line with her usual behavior.

However, she was fortunate enough that her mother was the one to catch her during the times she was caught.

Also fortunate her mother never caught her with Joel- that might have made her have a heart attack. Seeing Joel fucking her. There were many times she and Joel could have gotten caught, the time he snuck into her window and ate her pussy out with her parents just down stairs.

There was also a time back at Joel's house she slept over, and her father came looking for her; she never ran so fast across the fields back home. But in a way, it was fun; the adrenaline was exciting. Y/N, however, knew the truth of their relationship was about to surface.

Y/N seemed fully aware of how this town worked and knew that people would start talking about her and Joel, whom she was perhaps involved with. As her parents returned home on Sunday and prepared to return to work on Monday, they were sure to hear about the rumors and gossip surrounding their daughter.

Y/N just hoped it all could work out for now. She just was happy to be going on a date with Joel Miller.

Joel turned to Y/N with a look of concern etched on his face, his eyes softening as he gazed at her. "I think it might be best to focus on the present moment, honey," he sounded in a gentle voice, his hand reassuringly resting on her thigh giving it a gentle squeeze as he continued to drive. "We can talk to them when they come back. I wouldn't make you do it by yourself." He added, his finger gently massaging her thigh to provide solace. The atmosphere inside the truck was serene and calm, save for the soft, soothing tunes of 80s country music playing in the background. The music seemed to fill the air, creating a peaceful ambiance as they drove down the road.

Y/N felt a sort of comfort, she felt safe. She always did with Joel.

Y/N was feeling anxious and nervously fidgeting with the ends of her nails. She whispered, "They are gonna freak out, aren't they?" Joel noticed her anxiety and placed his hand on top of hers, stopping her from playing with her nails and squeezing them tightly to reassure her. He leaned in and whispered, "I told you not to worry, baby." His voice was soothing and comforting to her. He then took one of her hands into his and gently kissed her knuckles, trying to alleviate her worries.

“Now sweetheart, what's your favorite fair food?”

"And we have a winner!”

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement as Joel aimed and popped the final balloon, winning her the grand prize. It was a massive stuffed bear, and Y/N had never been so thrilled for a teddy bear before. "Thank you so much, Joel," Y/N exclaimed with a beaming smile, as they walked through the bustling crowd of the fair.

The sun had finally set, and the day's oppressive heat had given way to a refreshing coolness. Joel had them an old-fashioned bottle of cherry cola. The fair always shared them. Many people even collected the bottles. Both passed it forth, sharing it as they made their way through the colorful carnival booths and rides; Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for this unforgettable moment.

“It's so much sweeter in the bottle,” Y/N sipped the fizzed cold drink, handing the glass bottle to Joel, the bear still in her other hand. “Not as sweet as you, darlin’.” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at him.

Joel had gone out of his way to make the day memorable for his Y/N. He had purchased tickets for a few rides, treated her to a delicious funnel cake, and now had her engaged in some fun games. As she basked in the moment, Joel tenderly kissed her and held her face in his hands. "I'll do anything to make you happy, my love," he whispered. "Would you like to ride the Ferris wheel before we leave?"

Y/N and Joel stood in line for the Ferris wheel, her arm holding a bear and her other arm locked with Joel's. She said, "As long as you promise to kiss me at the top," with a happy expression. They had been at the fair for a while, and Y/N had noticed a few eyes on them. Some stares were curious, but the ones that struck Y/N the most were the disgusting stares. She felt a sting of discomfort when she saw people whispering about them. However, Joel seemed oblivious to all this, keeping his eyes on his woman, not noticing anyone else around them.

Y/N couldn't help it, though. She knew that others might judge her for what she was about to do. Joel, who was standing beside her, would probably tell her that those people were just jealous. After all, jealousy was usually the answer to such situations. The line moved quickly, and soon, they were both seated in a cart with Joel's hands wrapped around her waist. As the wheel moved slowly, they were lifted to the top, anticipation building up. Finally, the wheel stopped, leaving them to enjoy the breathtaking view from the top.

The lights were an awe to her, so many colored lights. The night sky was filled with stars; the air was just right not to be cold. Y/N felt like nothing could make this more perfect. Joel just let the younger woman be in awe for a moment, being in awe himself.

The way the dress was hugging her waist, the way her smile was lighting up her whole face. She was beautiful in every way. Joel placed his fingers on her chin to turn him towards his direction, placing a kiss on her lips. She still tasted the cherry from the coke on her lips mixed with even the cherry lipstick she had on. Their lips moved in sync, both hands cupping her cheeks, squeezing them tightly. The wheel started moving again, startling her a little, grabbing onto Jeol, who laughed at her. “It ain't funny.” Y/N slapped his chest playfully.

“Don't worry, I'll keep my girl safe.”

Joel got Y/N out of the pickup truck once pulling into his home. His house was always so cozy and calming when Y/N was over. The floor creaked when his boots hit the wooden floor; taking off his flannel and hanging it by the door.

"You need anythin' to drink, baby?" Joel asked her, his eyes scanning over her. She looked so cute in that dress; she always looked good no matter what she was in. "Beer would be fine," Y/N suggested, following him to his kitchen. His kitchen was bare. She noticed a few photos on his fridge of him and a little girl. She'd never been in his kitchen before, yet she had not seen many pictures of Sarah, only older ones. Y/N smiled, glancing over the photos, handing her a beer and having one for himself.

"I have some smoke if you want to head to the back porch with me?" Joel suggested, pulling out a silver box underneath his drawer. Y/N gave him a smug smirk, sipping her fizzed beer. "Lead the way, Miller." Y/N watched his lips curl, gesturing him to follow out back.

Popping his screen door open, crickets filled her ears. The night was getting later; the air was still warm and cozy outside. Joel recently fixed the porch swing, offering her a seat. Joel had a blunt in his hand, lighting the end of the blunt, pulling the first hit. The sizzling sound of the blunt filled their ears, and Joel puffed out smoke, handing it over to Y/N. "You smoked 'fore, doll?" The older male wondered, watching her bring the blunt to her lips.

"Few times, mostly out of bongs in college." Y/N coughed, passing it by to Joel, "Can't believe an old man like you smokes." Joel laughed, letting out a puff of smoke, keeping the blunt in rotation. "What makes you wanna be with an old man like me, huh?" Joel wondered, holding in the smoke for a moment.

"All boys at my college wanted one thing; some were nice. But.." Y/N paused momentarily, taking a hit and letting out a dry cough. Joel chuckled at her momentarily, listening to her, waiting for her response. "I like you, Joel. You're different; you treat me better than anyone I'd ever been with." Joel loved that; he wanted her to treat her like a queen.

Both finished the blunt, and Joel ashed it out, leaving the 'roach' in the smoking tray. "Do you wanna go shower now, sweetheart?" Joel held his hand out, hips lips curled in a smirk. "I know what your showers consist of, Miller." Y/N pointed her finger at him playfully, taking his hand. "And you love a good Joel Miller pamper shower." He winked at her playfully, grabbing her sides and picking her up, which made her sequel. Joel's hands trailed up her dress, tightening her thighs.

Joel took Y/N upstairs to shower, getting it started. It took a minute to get warm. He turned to the younger woman, watching her remove her dress; she did not have a bra on, which made his breath drawl in, watching the dress fall to the ground. Her panties fit her like a glove, which made him want her more. The color fits her so well. His hands touched her bare sides, his eyes closed, breathing in her scent.

His touch sent chills down her spine, laying her head on his bare chest. "The water should be a warm doll." Joel let Y/N in the shower first; through the glass, she could see Joel's figure remove his jeans. Her head underneath the water, she kept her eyes on him, watching his every move. She could hear his belt hit the floor, her eyes closed, letting her head hit the water behind her.

The shower door was pulled open; she could feel Joel's presence enter, wrapping his arms around her and placing small kisses on her neck. Y/N felt like she was in her safe zone; the water and Joel's touch were relaxing. She quickly turned around on her feet, pulling him close to her lips. The kiss was hungry, and she ached for him. Her nails dug into the back of his neck, that made him growl.

Joel had her against the wall, one leg held up; she could feel his hardened cock against her. His lips kept moving with his; she was entirely making out with Joel against the cold shower wall. “God, you're so fuckin’ hot, babe, ain't ya?” Joel moaned into their kiss, his tongue moving with hers, “Moan for daddy, baby.”

Y/N had her neck fully access to him placing rougher kisses down her neck. He growled in her ear turning over having her against the wall her back arching. With a whimper, she felt Joel grab a hold of her hips to pull them where he needed them before she felt the warmth of him moving in behind her. Joel grabbed her hips in his and led her back toward him. When she rubbed up against the solidness of his flesh, moaning out. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the way that Joel teased her.

The way he traced the tip of his hard cock through her folds made her want everything all the more. It made her ache and want him more than he could ever imagine. When the tip pushed at her entrance, she bit onto her bottom lip whimpering out, her head rested on the shower wall.

Joel’s had his hand wrapped in her wet hair. With ease, he thrust into her filling her completely that made her gasp. The pleased sound he made showed her that was loving this.

“Your dad would be throwing a fit right now seeing his little girl like this” Joel growled against the back of her ear making her jaw clench. The warmth of his breath drew chills down her spine and she tried to keep it together.

“Can we not talk about my dad while you’re balls deep inside of me?” she begged, panting clearly out of breath. Whichmade Joel laugh out, his thrust making her ass jiggle. The water was starting to get cold not even bothering the two.

An occasional heavy breath or moan escaped the both of them while he took his time with her. Joel’s palm slid from her hips so he could caress at her cilt. She threw her head back moaning out, the water still trailing down their skin getting colder by the minute.

With Joel’s kissing over the side of her neck, she knew that everything inside of her wanted to cry out. She was a whimpering and moaning hog mess. Even with him, he was grunting and moaning against the side of her neck. “I’m going to come.”

“Me too, just hold tight baby,” Joel commanded, she heard his deep winces filling the air and she rocked her hips against his thrusts making a wet smacking sound fill the shower. Falling forward, she could feel her body shaking against his and Joel quickened the thrusts his dick made inside of her chasing that orgasm himself.

“Stay the night, baby,” Joel kissed her shoulders riding out the orgasm. He had the shower turned off wrapping a towel around her body before wraoping one around his waist. Joel even carried Y/N to the bed placing her down in his room, giving his a kiss on the cheek.

“You're the sweetest, Joel.” Y/N told him giving him a warm smile. His eyebrows rose, teasing the younger woman. “Sweet like cherry cola?” Y/N snorted at his comment relating to earlier that night.

“Sweeter baby.”

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 3 months

Text

Linger

Sirius Black x rockstar! f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, like pretty rough guys he bites you till you bleed, underage drinking, underage smoking, a lot of smoking tbh, drunkish sex, kinda has a plot so yeah lmk if i missed anything

summary: you and your band mates decide to go out to a pub, where you end up meeting the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys i’m so bad at these summaries holy. this is probably my favorite fic i’ve written. the flirting and the tension like omg. trust me. also, let’s pretend The Runaways are british and let’s pretend everything id accurate hahaha. enjoy ;)

~~~

“Do you think we’ll be recognized tonight?”

You turn to your bandmate, Joan, and shrug. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

“What pub are we going to again?” She asks.

“The one where they let underage people in, of course, you’re still the only one who’s twenty-one in the band you know,” you reply.

The other two members of your band, Sandy and Lita, are ahead of you, engulfed in their own conversation. You slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket and try to keep up. You’ve been in the band for a few months as the new lead singer. Their old one left to start her own band, claiming it to be more successful. Yet your band is the one that’s gotten sold-out shows, interviews on television, and pictures in magazines. Sometimes you like to think it was fate that she left, and you just so happened to be in town the night they were holding auditions. The fans surely enjoy your voice more, they make you out to be the leader even though you’re only seventeen and the newest member. You don’t mind though, and neither do your bandmates.

It’s almost ten when you arrive at the pub and thankfully no one has recognized you yet, or they have and simply haven’t said anything. There’s no one at the door to check IDs just like Sandy had said. The four of you enter fast and find a table. The music is loud, the lights are low, and people are dancing all over. You like it, a lot.

“Drinks?” Lita questions a few seconds after you sit.

“You know it!” Joan replies.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Sandy takes out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for one?”

“Obviously,” you answer, holding your hand out. She hands you one, you’re quick to light it and stick it between your lips, inhaling a deep breath of smoke. “How come the police haven’t found this place?”

Joan rolls her eyes. “They have.”

“And? Why don’t they shut it down?”

“They have people who come here, of course, sons, daughters, you know that sort of thing. It may be illegal but it’s trustworthy,” she explains. “Why do you care anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious I suppose.”

Lita arrives back at the table, four glasses held in her arms. You take yours fast, eager to taste whatever liquor she got for you. It’s bitter, with a hint of sweetness in it. Based on the color as well, your guess is some sort of vodka mix. You drink it despite the awful aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. The cigarette between your fingers helps a bit. The four of you talk for a while and enjoy the peace of having no fans around.

“You should go to the bar y/n,” Lita says after some time. “Or well it might be too late now, but when I was there, I saw a boy your age, remarkably handsome.”

Sandy laughs. “You’re trying to send her home with someone already?”

Lita nudges the other girl with her shoulder. “No, I’m only trying to get some new song material.”

“We’ll see if there’s any potential,” you say, taking the last sip of your drink and getting up. You brush down your hair. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re always beautiful,” Joan answers, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“Wish me luck.” You chuckle before heading to the bar.

With every step you take, you feel eyes on you. Most belong to older men who shouldn’t even be paying you any mind. You’re used to the feeling of being watched, with all the fans and paparazzi that corner you before and after gigs. So, you move through the pub without a second thought about it.

In the back of your head, you curse yourself for not asking Lita what the guy looks like. For a moment you question how you’re supposed to find him, but then your curious eyes find one guy who stands out. He’s leaning on the wall, a glass in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. Based on his face, you figure he can’t be more than nineteen. And oh, how right Lita was. His hair is dark and long, almost reaching his shoulders. He’s dressed in a simple white tee shirt and baggy jeans. Despite the distance, you swear you can make out a sliver of a tattoo on his shoulder. He’s gorgeous, almost too gorgeous.

You approach him carefully, thinking of different opening lines in your head. Would it be wrong to use your fame to get him to take you home? Probably. But you’ve seen Joan do it plenty of times. She always says it’s simply a tool and that you should use it to your advantage. You’ve never done it though. Perhaps it’s your little amount of consciousness that remains that tells you it’s wrong. You don’t know and the alcohol in your system doesn’t help. So, when you reach him, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hi.”

He looks at you, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hello.”

“How old are you?” You ask, immediately feeling stupid for such a question.

“What are you a cop?” He chuckles.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No uh... sorry.”

“It’s fine love, just not a very good pick-up line,” he replies. He takes his cigarette out, his eyes locked on yours. “Especially since you look like you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen actually.” You correct him.

“Ah, well there’s something we share then.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you comforts you. There’s no recognition in his eyes at all. You can tell. To him, you are just another girl. Not the lead singer of The Runaways. Just a simple girl.

“You can try again if you’d like,” he says. You look at him, confused. “Try another pick-up line.”

You gently smile and think for a few seconds. Nothing better comes to mind.

“Come here often?”

He laughs. “Somehow I think that was worse than the first one.”

“Sorry. Usually, I’m better at this sort of thing,” you reply. You put your hands back in your pockets, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment of silence. He takes a sip of his drink; you stare at his hand. The way it looks wrapped around the glass makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You hate how much you want him to take you home. You don’t even know his name. But he’s handsome, so much so it makes you unable to think straight. You need to know more.

“Are you from around here?”

He nods. “Born and raised in London. You?”

For a split second you wonder, if he’s from London how come he doesn’t know who you are? Sure, your band isn’t on the same level of success as Queen or ACDC but you’re also not underground. You push the thought away.

“Originally from Westchester but now I’m here in London for... work,” you answer.

“Work? I thought you were seventeen.”

“Yes but, eighteen next month. I already finished school.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Wish I could say the same, I still have another year left. Though, I rather enjoy school, gets me away from my dear parents.”

“Oh, where do you go?”

You notice the way he shifts his posture. “Out of the country, you wouldn’t know of it.”

“Like a boarding school?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

You look around the pub, a slight feeling of awkwardness blooming within you. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve done this before. You decide to blame it on the cheap vodka because really, you’re better than this.

“So, what’s your name then?” You ask after a few more minutes.

“Does it really matter?” He replies, catching you a bit off guard. He flicks the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes on yours. “All of it’s the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb love, I know this isn’t your first time. I’m sure you’ve chatted up many other lads and had them take you home.” There’s something about the tone in which he speaks that has your knees almost wobble.

“Why would you think that?”

He sighs, leaning over to a small table discards his cigarette in an ashtray, and leaves his glass. When he leans back on the wall, now with both of his hands-free, he buries them in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He looks down at you with an expression that could send your morals far out of mind. You want him, terribly. And you think he knows this.

“Besides the fact that you said you’re usually better at this, you’re also possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he eventually answers.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, but nevertheless thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. Most girls I see still wear those long skirts and sweaters, but you, you’re dressed like you could pass as a rock star.”

Your face heats up once again. You know he’s right. With your leather jacket, flared jeans, high-heeled boots, and small tight top you know it’s clear what kind of person you are. Your makeup only adds to it, black smudged eyeliner and glitter on your eyes. It’s a toned-down version of what you wear on stage. He doesn’t need to know that though.

You give him a smile and shrug. “Rock is my favorite genre, what can I say? You sort of got that look too though, not quite as intense.”

“Not a gentleman?” He chuckles.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. “At least I hope not.”

“I see. You don’t fancy the good boys. Well fortunately for you, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. At least, that’s what my schoolmates and family say,” he mentions. “What’s wrong with the good boys anyway? They could treat you like a lady.”

“Too gentle, I’m not a fan of it,” you answer honestly.

He smirks, sending warmth straight to your core. “So is your intention to get me out of here and treat you... not gently?”

“My intention is simply to buy you another drink, maybe enjoy a dance or two. What happens at the end of the night is not particularly on my mind right now. I’m more focused on learning your name. Why? Is that what you’d fancy?” You counter, looking up at him through your long lashes.

It has the effect you hoped for because he stands up straight, his back finally off the wall. He offers his hand to you, and you take it softly in yours. It’s so much bigger, so much warmer. You try your hardest to kill all the thoughts of where else you’d like him to touch you with his hand.

“Sirius Black,” he introduces himself.

“Like the star?” You question without thinking.

“Yes, like the star. Now what’s your name.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” you say.

“Charmed. So, how about that drink?”

You smile. It’s going to be a good night, you know it.

The next few hours go by in a flash. You and Sirius drink more than you probably should and dance to the many different songs that play on the jut box. A few different times throughout the night you find the eyes of your bandmates, each of them giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they watch you with Sirius. At one point Joan makes a lewd hand gesture, and you barely get a chance to see Lita smack her. It’s past twelve when you find yourself outside the pub with Sirius sitting on a curb sharing a cigarette.

“I hate these bloody shoes,” you mumble as you dig your heel into the pavement. “They make my feet sore.”

“Then why do you wear them?” Sirius asks, amusement evident in his tone.

You exhale a long breath of smoke, passing the half-burnt cigarette back to him. “I dunno. Beauty is pain.”

“For some, but I’m sure even without those things you’re just as pretty. Actually, I would bet pounds on that being true,” he replies.

“I think I’m rather plain without all this. Would you think the same of me without my makeup and outfit?”

You watch him smirk. “I should think you look even prettier without all of that on. Especially the clothes.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies for the thousandth time tonight. Your shyness left hours ago when you took your first shot. So, instead of simply blushing and looking away, you stand and look down at him with your own smirk.

“Quite the charmer. How about you find come back to mine and find out for yourself?”

He takes one last drag of the cigarette before standing, flicking it to the pavement, and crushing it beneath his sneaker. You watch helplessly as he releases a cloud of smoke, his hand now held out to you.

“I’d quite like that. Lead the way.”

~~~

You don’t know how you keep your composure the whole way home, especially with Sirius’s hand handing yours the entire time. On the train, as you sit, your head on his shoulder, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. It’s a gesture that makes you glad you aren’t standing because your legs feel like jelly. And on the walk up to your apartment, he lets go of your hand and instead places it on the small of your back. You almost fall down the stairs at the contact.

Once you’re inside you immediately take off your boots, leaving them somewhere by the front door. Your jacket follows, only it’s hung on one of your kitchen chairs. When you turn to look at Sirius you find his eyes wandering all over your apartment, examining the details you assume. His sneakers are off, his hands are in his pockets.

“You must have a special job, this place is wonderful,” he says.

“My mates help me with the money, it’s not all mine,” you reply. It’s true, they do help you earn money from performing. You step closer to him, your hands behind your back. “And it’s really not that big. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one very tiny living room combined with the kitchen. But it’s more than enough for me. Would you like the tour?”

“Of course, if the tour starts in your bedroom.”

You can’t help the blush that takes over your face. “Follow me.”

The walk is fast, with every step you feel your heart rate increase. You’ve done this a few times, but for some reason, this time feels different. Perhaps it’s because all the other guys can’t compare to Sirius’s beauty in the slightest. Or perhaps it’s because you already like him a bit more than you should for a one-nighter. You don’t know. And you don’t care to know because you’re about to reach your door.

You open the door fast, letting him in first, and closing it behind you. It’s dark, the only lights coming from outside your small window. You don’t reach for the lights though. Instead, you step closer to the boy, the sound of your breathing suddenly far too loud for your liking. His silhouette moves closer to you as well. It’s almost like there’s an invisible force pushing the two of you together, and you find yourself liking it.

He touches you first. One of his hands finds your waist, he guides you to him faster. Soon enough, you’re practically pressed against him. You can barely breathe from the proximity. You’ve never felt something this intense. You look up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Still want me to not be gentle?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to ruin me,” you say, pressing one of your hands to his chest. You’re happy to find his heart is racing just like yours. “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright.”

Before you can even think of another thought, his lips are on yours. You kiss back instantaneously, your hand moving up into his hair. It’s soft, like you expected. He’s far from gentle with his kissing, and you’re glad. His lips move fast on yours, his teeth scraping your tongue. He bites down on your lip so hard you whimper, and the metallic taste of your blood clouds your senses.

Still, despite the pain, when he pulls back you almost whine from the loss of contact. But his hands move fast to pull your shirt up. You help him get it off, then move to his. Through the darkness, you can see the few tattoos he has on his chest and shoulder. They’re dark, they’re beautiful. You run your fingertips over them as he leans back down and connects your lips once again. You begin to guide the two of you towards your bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. Sirius doesn’t follow you though. Instead, he stands between your legs at the foot of the bed and begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. You watch in awe, lifting your hips to help him drag them down your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties. You sit up, your eyes on him, as you start undoing his belt.

After his jeans are on the floor he pushes you back down on the mattress, climbing over you this time. You kiss him deeply, dragging one of your hands down his warm back, and weaving the other through his hair. That warmth deep inside you has grown, consuming you entirely. You can feel the wetness between your legs, surely staining your panties. You’ve never been so turned on by a guy in your life.

He suddenly parts your kiss, his lips beginning to move down your jaw and neck. You moan, throwing your head back to give him more access. When he bites down on you, so hard you can feel a stinging from it breaking skin, you pull at his hair, sounds of pleasure escaping your swollen lips.

Eventually, after leaving many hickeys and bite marks on your neck, he pulls back entirely and flips you over onto your stomach. You smirk against the mattress as you feel him unclip your bra. To help get it off, you lift yourself on your hands, and the straps quickly fall. You throw it off without even thinking about it. You’re about to turn back but Sirius presses a hand between your shoulder blades, silently telling you to stay as you are. You don’t hesitate to comply.

You feel him move and instinctively you lift your hips in the air. He places a kiss on your back, it almost makes you shiver. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your last piece of clothing off. You normally would feel some sense of vulnerability at this point. Completely naked with your ass in the air. But the alcohol mixed with the utter need you have for Sirius takes control. You feel him shift.

“Do you have a rubber?” The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your legs together.

“Unless you have a disease, you don’t need one. I’m on birth control,” you answer, looking over your shoulder at him.

“No diseases I swear,” he says.

“Then proceed.”

You get up properly on all fours, the anticipation killing you. When he positions his tip at your entrance, you inhale sharply. He rubs his cock through your wet folds for a few seconds, brushing against your clit ever so slightly, before thrusting inside you in one quick, hard motion. You can’t help the moan that leaves you. He’s big, stretching you in a way that’s on the brink of being painful. It’s perfect.

He fucks you hard, very hard. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. At one point, your arms give out and your face presses against the mattress. Your hands twist in the sheets, your moans muffled by the bed. Sirius doesn’t like this. He twists one of his hands in your hair and pulls you up, the pain only adding to the building of your orgasm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. “Fuck Sirius.”

He’s relentless. He fucks you through your first orgasm, not faltering for even a second. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, pulling out and flipping you onto your back. You scratch your nails down his back as he begins to fuck you in missionary, your lips on his.

You don’t know how long passes by the time he tells you he’s close. What you do know is that your second orgasm is not far either. With tears in your eyes, you let him switch positions once again, this time you’re on top of him. Your muscles are weak and sore, but that doesn’t stop you from riding him as well as you can. Sweat covers your body, and incoherent words drip off your lips. You can barely take it anymore.

“I-I’m almost there,” you mumble.

“Me too love,” Sirius replies, his breath ragged. “Finish us both off.”

You struggle to hold yourself up, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, just a few more minutes,” he assures you, running one of his hands through your hair.

Much to his word, in a few minutes, he finishes. Hard. He moans your name in an indescribable tone, and his cock pulses inside you so intently, it causes your second orgasm to occur. As this happens, you lie on his chest, both of your breathing very uneven. He holds you tight against him.

Eventually, you roll off him and stare at your ceiling. You try to comprehend what just happened. Never in your life have you experienced something so intense. Most of the time when you told guys to be rough with you, they’d be turned off. But Sirius... You turn to your side to face him.

“Want a smoke?”

“Certainly.”

~~~

It’s safe to say, you don’t let him go all summer. You spend every second you can with him. Most of the time in your sheets, but a good amount doing other things. You paint his nails black, teach him how to wear eyeliner, and how to dress more like yourself. You enjoy every second you get with him.

He never does discover your fame, at least he never says so. You think he would know. Each time you go out you try your hardest to be unnoticeable and you always hide away magazines and switch the channel whenever something about your band is shown. But he never does say anything. Sometimes at night, you sing to him softly and you always laugh when he tells you that you should take it professionally.

You learn how much he hates his family, except for his little brother. You learn he loves Queen and David Bowie. You learn his favorite color is ironically black. You learn as much about him as you can and with each fact you do learn, you only fall more for him. But you never speak of it. You know the inevitable ending.

On the night before he goes back to school, the two of you lay in your bed, a thick silence between you. As usual, you pass a cigarette back and forth. Only this time, there are no words accompanying. Until he speaks.

“For once, I’m not looking forward to going back.”

You turn to your stomach and look at him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me either,” he agrees. He holds the cigarette to you; you take it fast. “I can phone you if you want. You know, while I’m there. Or send letters.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You question.

“I think I really fancy you, and I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

You give him a weak smile and press a kiss on his bare shoulder. “Oh, Sirius.”

~~~

A few months later...

“Five minutes till show time,” an assistant tells you.

You’re sitting in your dressing room backstage. Joan, Sandy, and Lita all have their own space now. You find it funny how much The Runaways have blown up since the summer. Now, everywhere you turn you see yourself in a magazine or a news article. You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, or without the paparazzi showing up.

As you look in the mirror your mind travels back to Sirius. This happens a lot. Right before a concert, you think of him. Sometimes you wonder if maybe he’s out there listening. You haven’t heard from him since he went to school. You aren’t angry, only a bit sad. You’re mostly grateful though. He inspired most of the songs in your number-one album that got the band all the new attention.

You stand from the vanity and sigh. Tonight, your performance is being televised worldwide. Beside the door is your guitar, you pick it up as you begin your journey out to the stage. You’ve got a good lineup, even a small intermission for a happy birthday song. You hope wherever he is he hears it.

After all, it is November 3rd.

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milfism-blog · 2 months

Text

Bar of Destiny

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem Reader

Summary: You are going through a confusing path of self identity. Will your views on life change when you meet an Italian redhead in the old sports bar?

Warnings: Inner homophobia, comphet, alcohol consumption, mentions of hetero relationship, little angst, fluff, Smut.

Word count: 6.3k

Author`s note: I hope you'll like it, trust the process. My requests are open for your suggestions\ideas. Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy the story!

On a boring Friday evening, you found yourself in a cheap old bar where men were watching tv and talking shit about their wives. How did you end up there? Well, let's start from the beginning then…

You heard a lot about the self identity crisis but as far as you knew it was mainly common for men in their late 40s. But you certainly were not a man and not that old. To reconsider your life choices and the most calming and thinking spot you could master became this decrepit bar. Growing up in a conservative household with a single mom and being an older sister certainly gave you a hard time. So you mustered a plan to leave this lifestyle and never get back. But some principles, morals and negative attitudes towards the lgbtq+ community stayed. But again you also knew the saying “The gayest people are the homophobes”. And to be completely honest just one little thought about being or trying something with a woman was scaring you to death. And you came here to show yourself that you are a straight woman who can be in a relationship with a man.

You accepted this challenge from yourself, but if you at least like men a little bit you probably would not call it a challenge. To ease your anxiety, you are sipping your beer carefully while sitting alone close to the bar counter. The bar is supposed to close in 3 hours and you still haven't found a good looking man. To put it mildly, all of them looked strange or not to your taste. So far no more than sharing a gaze with a bartender. He was the most normal? Out of all…?

After a while, you sensed an intense stare. And surely it was not from the bartender he had enough work to keep him busy. You looked around yourself to catch the observer but nothing. But the uneasy feeling of being watched is still present in your mind. Your lateral vision caught some movement on the other side of the bar. You tried your best not to interact or make any eye contact. Again you came there to find a guy or try to. However, even a single conversation or hint is uncomfortable, to put it mildly, now back to the incognito viewer. He revealed himself by sitting beside you. The first thing that got your attention about the mysterious man was his perfume which hit your tender senses. You never were a fan of the men's cologne… It was so strong yet you could detect notes of floral-musky fragrance. That could be sweet notes from the female perfume. The idea provided you with little comfort.

Compared to the others at this establishment, he didn't seem as scary. His hazel eyes were on you, seemingly surveying your evening attire. You did the same scanning his choice of clothes for the lonely Philly bar. Taking a close look at his face, brows turned upwards, eyes bloodshot leaving the expression of sadness perhaps sorrow. Dirty uniform and strong smell of mixed vodka with beer. Which is known for being a hell of a hangover. The red handprint on his right cheek. All this has been telling you that this man has been dumped by a woman, the strong one apparently who does not hold back.

The man got the courage to start a conversation with you. His words were slurred a bit mixed with a rough Philadelphian accent. His voice is smoked with raspiness. You usually loved raspy voices but if they belonged to women, not to men. Once more your mind still wanders to women. Anyway, returning to the subject in question, the forced conversation, you couldn't call it a conversation, it was more of a monologue, you were answering from politeness.

“What's a girl like you doin here? Aren't ya scared ya gonna receive unwanted attention with this dress of yours?” He questioned with little teasing in the last sentence while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Already got that.” Rolling your eyes you mumbled so he would not hear the words leveling your lips.

“Don't ya be scared I am a good guy, I`m Gar by the way.” He smiled, giving you his hand for a shake. You were thinking about turning him down but you had a task to accomplish, make sure that you would find a man.

“Nice to meet you.” You forced out.

“It's not that I'm prying but why are you here?'' You made an attempt to shift the topic from you to him. You would rather listen than talk about your business and share it with a random man.

By asking this question you opened the whole pandora box of problems. The guy has been sharing with you like you were his therapist. However, to be fair, he started talking about his job. Most of the time people don't remember his name, only the fact that he is some “vending machine guy”. Women don't like him. You almost chuckled at that. “Gosh men are so dramatic” - you thought to yourself.

“Ya are a woman, why don't they like me? I have the body of a young man, I work out regularly, I buy them gifts and all I'm left with is a broken heart.” He complained. Signing sadly.

“If I am a woman that doesn't mean I can answer this question. There might be a lot of factors, maybe you are just not their type. Things happen.” You don't even know why you were answering his rhetorical question.

“Yeah but, I thought that I had found my woman, for real now, I thought that she was the one. Everything was fine, amazing even. I planned a dream proposal for her. I knew that she was a huge Eagles fan and I was going my way to make a deal with Jalen Hurts himself to play our song. He read my words that I had put on the paper for her. And you know what she did? –”

There was a long pause. He took a big gulp of vodka. Hissing as the burning liquid traveled down his throat.

“She said: "No "! Can you imagine, I made all this for nothing, she burned down three years of my life! She is the wrong one. I was perfect. I bought her gifts, her favorite snack from the vending machine, and asked her out to the cafes. One time I even saved MY money up so I could pay for our special cruise. And all this for nothing, for the rejection, best years spent on this bitch!”

He was whining and complaining like a fifth year old boy who did not get his way on the toy that he wanted to buy. “Gosh respect, come on!” - You thought. You tried so hard not to laugh at his face. He is so miserable as a person by himself. A man in his late 50s calling a bitch a woman who turned him down. “Just learn to accept rejection, hadn't he had half of his life to learn it?”. When your mind was lost in thought your ears peaked at the description of his ex.

“But her beauty, ohhh, her body to die for. The tight fitting outfits were showing off all of her gorgeous body. Her eyes are emerald green, red looks of voluminous hair, make-up was done flawlessly, always put together…” He sighed in the memory of his past lover.

Yes, you kind of liked his description but the sad part was that he cared the most was her looks. He said nothing about her qualities as a human. Is she kind? Outgoing? Extrovert or introvert? Does she like to hang out in bars or is she more like a stay at home person? You were having all these questions even though you never saw her. She might be cool if she pissed him off this hard.

__________________________________________Life works as the most humorous TV show that you can only imagine. Garry the man you met at a bar a couple of months ago. Now you were dating? Or so you called it. More like friends with benefits or relationships without any responsibilities. Well to briefly describe your dynamics as a couple. He was working, you were working, nothing cool was happening. To be fair he tried to organize some dates but they were horrible. You two would always end up at the oldest, rastest bar in the whole town. Just so he can “legally” watch football during your date. If you are completely honest you did not mind, every time he was occupied it felt like a breath of fresh air. Some free time? You were not only “dating” but also sharing a flat. First it was chipper for you to save some money and secondly he was never there.

Why were you with him in the first place? Experiment..? Or this one of many excuses. Nonetheless, you set boundaries with him. He was too lazy to work on gaining your trust or any sort of effort in these so-called relationships. But the lack of effort simply led him to spend time with his dudes watching football and all that boring men stuff. It didn't matter if he was occupied with work or if he was having fun with women, you simply couldn't care less.

The main point was that you chose him, and you were living with him so that equals you are attracted to him. If you are finding him attractive that matters that you are attracted to men…? Right?

Despite this miserably boring lifestyle you got yourself into. You went to the bar again. If he can “cheat” or have fun with other women. Maybe you could try to find someone better than him? It was like your tradition at this point to get to that bar to drink beer or something stronger and that usually helped you to forget about your non boyfriend? Or what should you call him? But instead of seeing men there you saw her…

The beautiful stranger was sitting near you at the poorly lit bar. You were curious how she ended up here? Was she sinking her sorrows into the poisoned liquid or was it just a hard week? Did she break up with her boyfriend? Who in their right mind would not treat her right? This time you enjoyed the company of a captivating stranger. Maybe she did not know you liked her calming aura. But she doesn't need this information or she would think you are a creep. She probably has a lot of men beneath her feet. Ready to do anything for her.

Using your side vision desperately trying not to stare you noticed her brightly red locks. Her hair was like a halo reflecting the red in her hair. Her green eyes were shining with sadness. You started to wonder who had hurt such a beautiful flower. Her delicate fingers firmly held onto the glass with cognac the courage liquid. Index finger playing with the rim of the glass. Debating whether or not she should talk with you.

“Are ya alone here hun?” - Thick Philly accent had brushed over your sensitive ears.

Your gaze was so fixated on her beauty that you missed what she said or asked, you were not sure. It felt like a dream. Like she was not real. You thought you had too many beers to process the situation you are in. Woman simply cannot be this magnifying and most importantly real… In flesh and blood sitting near you.

“You were talking to me?” You answered nervously. Playing with the rings on your fingers. Why were you nervous?

“Yes, we’re the only one’s here.” She gestured around the bar counter. As if it is the most obvious thing in the world. But you did not care if there were people or not, she was the one that took your interest.

Yes, yes you're right sorry.” You suddenly felt so embarrassed in front of this attractive woman.

“You don't have to be sorry about anything hun. I was wondering why ya would be in a place like this? Why would such a fragile young pretty girl be here?” She asked with curiosity and concern evident in her voice.

Your mind stopped in its tracks when she called you “fragile”. For some reason you liked it. You were a fight girl. You did not need anyone’s protection. But the word “fragile” tenderly slipped from her lips with care made you want something more. Oh here goes this feeling again —

“You want an honest answer?” You asked with a chuckle.

“If you’d share” She simply answered, shrugging her shoulders.

“I was gonna look for a man but so far they all are disgusting…” you shared your truth.

This answer made a redhead laugh out loud. The good, sincere happy laugh. When she was giggling her face was hit by the sunlight. Highlighting all of her smile lines and freckles. Her eyes finally lit up with joy. You felt a pleasant warm feeling in your chest. You liked that you could add more smiles to her peach colored lips.

“I was expecting’ anything but that answer–” her laugh betrayed her.

“Ya are funny, ya know that?” Her eyes sparkled with contentment. And for some reason you wanted to make her smile and giggle more… gosh her laugh sounded like the most melodic sound you ever heard in your life.

“Well thank you, I guess.'' You were unsure of what to say. It's more like being stuck in wonder. Her beauty was so captivating it was challenging you to stay focused on her words rather than on her looks.

“I’m gonna buy yа a drink, we need to chat and that’s on me.” She leaned closer to you. Trying to appear dangerous so there will be no room for argument. But it had a completely opposite effect on you could smell her sweet perfume, it was making you more drunk than you actually were. Of course, you said “Yes” to this offer!

That night gave you a new friend and companion during lonely nights. You could always call her and share whatever is bothering your soul. She has a guy for every single problem. The closer you got with Melissa the more tension you got in your household with Gerry. He did not like the idea that you were spending a lot of time with another person. Woman to be specific. He did not know her name or her appearance. But when you brought up all the women he has been with while you were at home he would get defensive trying to find insults. Which you found funny, a grown man doesn't know how to talk with you. He never understands you in the first place.

It didn't matter how open you were with Melissa or how close your friendship was getting. You try to hide that private part of your life. It does not feel right. For some strange reason it felt like betrayal. Initially because she shared with you intimate details of her failed marriage and engagement. You were there with every step of her healing journey. When she was angry, sad, lost, depressed. You started to wonder if all men were like this. Clumsy and ignorant to understand what their woman really wants. Maybe dating a woman is better?

You felt obligated to share with her but the guilt was too much to be fully sincere. Especially with every passing month, it was enough time for you to gain her trust but you were terrified to admit it out loud that you were taken and saying this to her.. would be the point of no return. So your answer to her curiosity was that your life is boring and you simply don't have a partner. Even if she questioned your honesty with her, it was none of her business. First and foremost she was a friend and not a police officer to question you.

But this particular evening in the Italian's house you felt at peace. You loved to be with her. You felt so content. You have everything you'll need, even wine. She was so sweet to share some clothes with you. To be honest you didn’t bring some of Melissa`s items right back to her until her perfume would vanish away. That’s how much you loved her scent? Her—?

If you believed in God you would have thought that the guy was tempting you today. Melissa wore a short pink pj… That was a strong start to the evening. You could not focus on a single thing. Your mind and body were on fire. Your brain was working one hundred miles per hour. It was too much. But she was acting as if nothing was going on. Of course, all this was in your head. She simply was clueless about the effect this item of clothes was having on you. If you were more engaged in gay culture you would know that what you had at that specific moment called “A gay panic…”.

Your eyes started shamelessly to roam her body in the tight pink pajamas. You could not control it. She looked so delicious. The garment showed more creamy skin than you are used to. Of a year of your friendship you TAUGHT YOURSELF NOT TO REACT at all. Be cool about her tight, sometimes revealing outfits. But this – this was way out of line of your control. Your mind was just screaming how incredibly hot she was. If you didn't know better you would assume that she was seducing you. But gosh those hips and tights. Looked so soft it seemed to you that they were begging for your attention. To touch to explore the new flesh that was open for your eyes to see. And your fatal mistake was to move your gaze up to her chest. Now you were trapped, her breasts were one of the most attractive things. First you thought you were just jealous of her size and how confidently open she was with them. But now, it all felt in place, you got it. How full, squishy and tender they really are. To add to this almost see-through top of her pjs. That was a killer. You honestly don't know how men could be so stupid to miss on this real life goddess. The soft skin and nipples peeking out. You thought you were hallucinating, the buds were calling your name “Touch me” the words were echoing in your overstimulated brain.

Next final thing was her bare face, it was a privilege to see her without a brave mask which included her makeup. She was a little bit insecure about how she looked without it. But all you could think of was kissing her face every part of it, her nose, eyes, temple. To show your adoration not only with words but with actions. Her skin looked absolutely flawless for you. Hell her body was absolutely fire. The other day she was complaining to you that she ate too much pasta and now she has added weight. But goodness gracious all you could see was the healthy curved body of your favorite woman. You loved her butt the second thing after her breasts and face of course. Even though you were absolutely drooling over her body and sexyness. You were better than a man. At least you respected her more and loved listening to her stories. Back to the subject, her kooley as people in Philly say is a work of art. All natural and seizable. You could only dream of putting your hands there and outrageously roam, pinch, caress all sorts of things. To feel it closer to you to get a better feeling.

Her hair was put down, all that was left of her styling was a slight wave at the ends of auburn hair. She might not like how she looked like this but god you loved to see her like this. Bare face, less clothes (obviously), and natural hair structure. It was giving you an allusion to the ability to fantasize and experience domestic life with her. Where she is just your Mel and not that tough woman you know. She might appear as a lion but in reality under all these layers of makeup, clothes and hair she is just an orange silly little cat. Who is touchy and clingy to attention and hugs.

“Hun are ya with me??” Her raspy voice was ticketing your ears pleasantly.

“Huh? Yes yes.” You tried to sound convincing. Miserably failing with nervousness in your voice. You were caught red handed. She knew that you saw.. more like stared at her body.

You never could fool her. She saw right through you. The sly smirk on her lips was the evidence that you were completely awful at lying. At least to her.

“I asked if ya are okay?? You’ve been silent for this whole time.” She said either teasing or worrying, probably both. Slightly nudging your shoulder.

“Ohhh , right I was just thinking about my home stuff you know? Domestic life.” You cringed at your bad choice of words. Stupid lie that you made up on the spot. Without even thinking about it though. You rolled your eyes at the last sentence, which was nonsense.

When she finally got your attention for the hundredth time. You two began watching the movie which was the main plan for the sleepover. Since you were much younger you would show her some new movies or TV shows that you loved. The biggest secret that you didn't know was that all the shows that you showed to her. Became her comfort movies and series. Calming her down after a stressful day at Abbott. Even though you weren't there with her but when she opened the streaming service to dive into the made up universe and characters it felt like you were right there with her, the whole time. It appeared as if the sun was shining on her during a rainy day. You were her sun.

The movie that she picked today was no help. It was a romantic line between characters who were friends but denied feelings for each other. Kind of reminded you of your situation with Melissa. But even if you would be brave enough to admit it to yourself. You couldn't even imagine what she was thinking about you. Were you her friend? Best friend? A distraction or a good company?

Melissa patted her lap as a sign for you to get comfortable between her plushingly seducing thighs to lay of course nothing more .“What a loss” You considered, but once again you were getting closer and closer with every passing hour. When you back touched her front it was challenging for Melissa to hold down a whimper that was willing to escape her mouth. The warmth of her body was too much, sending all kinds of sensations down to your core. Suddenly you are a hot, nervous mess but in the second she looks at you and pecks your temple you are a putty puddle in her hands. You don't care at this point. You wanted her to decide what will come next. You were just too insecure to make a move on a smoking hot redhead. Sure, she was intimidating but also she had her boundaries that you were too scared to overstep. Because you knew that one little childish mistake will lead you to lose the only person you care about in this town.

The movie was progressing and a lot of things were happening but you were not focused at all. You tried to steal some glances at relaxed cute and real Melissa Schemmenti. It was such a rare sight for your eyes, but again boundaries. You were unaware how much she thought it was adorable. Oh, how you tried to respect her but also like a cutely clumsy school girl looking at her crush. You were admiring her beauty. Memorizing every small detail of her beautiful features.

For some reason you skipped the moment in the annotation to the film which was describing the possible sex scenes. And that is certainly something that you would not like to watch together. Firstly it is hella awkward. Secondly you would be left with an uncomfortably wet spot in your panties specilly with Melissa by your side. But here you were with the main characters finally confessing their feelings and passionately kissing. “What dumbasses” you thought. To have all these feelings and not share them with the person you find attractive. (That was currently your situation that you were so stubbornly ignoring).

One blink of your eye and the older woman is pressing you down on her coach. Mumbling something under her breath. Her hands were passionately roaming your already overstimulated body. Her long sharp freshly manicured nails draw shapes over the fabric above your hips. These actions elicit a moan from your rosey lips. She fakely paunted at your moan playing innocence herself. Her sly smile and shiny with lust eyes were telling you another story. There was fire behind the emerald forest of greens in her eyes. She was more than ready to overstep, even ruin those stupid boundaries. Redhead was so tired of looking at the lips she could not kiss. It was a pure torture to the unpatient woman. But you were more worked up than she was. Which led you to yank her fiery locks of hair to make her meet your lips finally. You were so tired of this game for being a year long. Your lips were desperate to taste hers. Sloppy movements of tender flesh against each other. Smearing her cherry red lipstick all over your faces. Slightly biting on her sensitive bottom lip pulling it. The curiosity and excitement is rising in your body, making you buzz.

But Melissa wasn't planning on holding back. She liked the way you tried to take the lead, but she will teach you manners later by edging you. While she was in thoughts the animalistic instincts took over you and the fact that she was sitting on top of you was just adding fuel to the flame. Her breasts are free from her usually tight bra, all free for you to see. Your hands were faster than you thoughts, you ripped the poor flap of her night t-shirt. And her breasts fall right to your face. Too blissed out to care, your palms squashed the desired flesh of her silky breasts. Nails teasing the very sensitive areolas making her chocolaty nipples stand in anticipation. Silently begging for any sort of attention.

“Yesss… ah– like dis.” she whimpered out. Her eyes are rolling in pleasure.

Her accent is getting thicker with a mix of arousal and desire. Her raspy voice is like a natural aphrodisiac for you, making you more eager to please. Pushing stubborn redhead on shoulder blades, taking her by surprise, making Mel open her mouth and sneaking your tongue into her warm welcoming lips. She tasted so sweet her perfume was intoxicating your senses, making you addicted to a mix of musky and flowery scent. Her whines were getting louder with passing kisses. Suking on her tongue, your strong hands traveling over her tiny waist. Willing to see all of her you asked permission to tore down the seducingly tight pajama shorts she gave you an assuring nod.

“No, no, I need your words.” Shaking your head in disapproval. Eyes shining with want.

You whispered in her ear, slightly biting the earlobe. Sending shivers all over her neck and making small hairs on her nape to stand up. You absolutely enjoyed the effect your actions and words were having on her body and state in general. Where is the lion everyone was so afraid of? Right now she appears incredibly lustful. Completely lost in the fog of want, desire, sexual longing.

“Yes, yes please huunnn” She cried out. Bucking her exquisite hips to ease the job for you.

Ripping down the last garment of clothes seemed like a gift. She was your present to unpack and find the most sensitive buttons to tease and push. Carefully rather agonizingly slowly taking off the light pink, cotton shorts slowly revealing the glistening pussy. It was a view to see. Sexually frustrated Schimmenti trying so hard to suppress her frantic cries. But the ruined garment was the shameful evidence of her desire. You were admiring her long legs and lustrous hips. Now on full display only for your eyes to see. Her thighs seemed immensely empty, lacking any potential markings. Getting under your desire you felt like a predator eating its prey. You carefully started to explore the exposed flesh to your eyes, so hungry for more. Leaving slight love marks here and there initially provoking a sweet melody from the object of your admiration. Finally squeeze her deliciously seducing butt. Electrifying a nasty groan.

Mel had a naughty idea to catch you off guard. Abruptly grabbing your hands makes your gaze meet. Her pupils were delayed, absolutely fogged out. You looked at her questingly, but she had her own plan, the lion was back and now you were the cat. Pressing tightly her body against your sweat mixing. She boldly licked your earlobe, slightly pulling on it.

“Look who`s gon` all shy right now, let me be the boss.” She made accent on the last word clearly showing you your place.

Just the slight dominance from her was sending you to another orbit of fantasy and possible pleasure. Her boobs were again in your face but instead of focusing on pleasuring the Italian beauty you felt how she was tearing your clothes off. Slowly, teasingly to make you taste the same treatment you made for her. She could smell your fluids in the air as she got closer. Sultry sweet, sweat, skin, wine. All in one, that's how she likes you and to add the cherry on top, you were completely at her mercy. Looking at your chest rising up and down, your heart is jumping straight out of your rib cage. To ease the beating she left the hickey right above your heart, leaving a purple and pink mark from the smeared lipstick. Your breasts were tantalizing her. Aroused nipples screaming for any sort of relief from the teasing partner. She took the hint and licked the stripe over the right nipple, her hand playing slowly with the left one. You are crying out at the wet sensation. Melissa`s hands continue shamelessly to crumpling your sensitive tits. Licking, sucking, blowing at the wet aroused skin. Making you surrender completely.

The redhead smiles at your relaxed face but now it is time to give you two a sweet well deserved release. She's been fantasizing about it, how you will come, how she will pleasure you, what faces you would make and how you would sound. Would she use her mouth on you or her sharp fingernails? Or maybe you would enjoy a bit of pain and pleasure together? Would you scream, cry, fight? She often was getting off on these fantasies. Now she was getting desperate and her inner monologue was turning her on even more. (If it was even physically possible).

But the idea of cumming together and feeling each other's bodies was the one for tonight. So full of delight Melissa has stopped her assault on your reddened breasts. She had a look of concern and excitement written on her face.

“Baby are ya willin` to try somethin`out with me? Do you trust me enough?”

She asked in a gentle voice. Mel broke her dominant attire for this minute, she needed you to understand her intentions were nothing but good.

“Yes fully. I am all yours.” You whined out in a weakened voice.

Your mind was clouded with all sorts of feelings. Love, arousal, overstimulation? Everything at once. But the concern in her voice and love in her gaze was warming your heart. Even if she wanted to destroy you, you would say “yes” in a heartbeat.

She carefully parted your legs with warm hands of hers sending shivers to your sentave thighs. The sight of your glossy cunt was making her mouth salivating, just one thought about the exquisite taste was making her hips buck unconsciously. The action made you slip a tiny moan. Melissa put her legs over your hips making your cunts millimeters apart. Heavy breathings, chest rising in anticipation of the pleasure you two gonna share together. You broke the teasing it was too much at this point it felt like hours of torture. (You liked little bit of torture, but now its not about it, now is about connection).

You palmed her hips, focusing the main attention on her kooley. Slightly pressing your pussies together, clits throbbing against each other. You both moaned at the pleasant contact. The wetness pressed to wetness. You could sense the surprised look from Melissa, she never thought she'd be this wet, and certainly that she could make you this wet. As Schemmenti is, she took the lead. Plush hips riding yours, sending electricity through both of you. Soaked clits touching, making you whine both shuddering at the aching feeling.

“Agh– like this please Mel.” You begged.

If only you knew the effect begging had on Melissa. She liked every single sounds you made together whether it's a moan or watery sounds from your cunts. You cupped her rosy cheeks, making Italiano look you right in the eyes. The light banging of hips and the wet sounds filled the room. It felt like it was only you two in that room. Just you, just your feelings, pleasure. The heated kisses shared in the tender moment. Tugging at fiery red hair just added to the general bliss. Her soft skin, full puffy lips from all shared kisses between the steamy sessions, dark green eyes completely blown by lust. Melissa swirled her hips again making your clits in contact bringing the sweet pleasure from wonderful frequstion. It almost made you see stars. You were close and so was she. Breasts closely pressed together, nipples brushing, cunts closer than ever.

“Mel baby I`m closeee.” You cried out, with tears in your eyes.

“Don't come yet, hun I want us to do it together.” Melissa breathed out with drops of sweat running down her face.

You eagerly nodded, you didn't want to disappoint your lover. Bodies knit together, sweat, skin, smell of sex, and perfume overflowing the room. Melissa`s movements became increasingly stiff and steady making it her mission to make you cum. Putting all her body weight on your pelvis, humping her hips on your clit providing each step closer to the finish. She had her concentrated face which looked hot as hell. At this point anything could make you blow up with pleasure, but as a good girl you waited for your lover. Fiery Italian was getting closer and closer. Her first instinct was to press your head tightly to her deliciously full breasts.

“Yeah I'm almost there, suck on my nipple, hun please! I'm almost there!” She cried out while moving her thighs faster.

Melisa`s fist was in your soft locks pushing you impossibly close to her sensitive breasts. Sucking, nibbling, licking it later to smooth the reddened flesh. To provide the redhead release faster you bucked in the unison. Clits caressing against each other, hips riding the last straw to send you both into pure bliss. On the pick of your best orgasm you said:

“I LOVEE YOUU MEL aghhh!!”

“LOVE YOUU HUN ughh!!”

No awkwardness, just all the feelings that were bubbled inside were finally sent free by the sex, no it was lovemaking. Two souls tied together by love. Finally the ability to share and be honest with yourself ended up in a warm embrace with Melissa. She looked incredibly charming, her face a little red, sweat on her forehead but the smile and eye she was giving you. That was worth all the self doubt, battle and toxic thoughts of fixing yourself. You knew for sure you would never find another person who would fit your soul like Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmeni can.

__________________________________________

And what about Garry? You got the message from him during the night you were too busy to respond. Simply he wanted to know where you were “Where the fuck are you?” But why would it matter if you are laying in the arms of the most beautiful woman you ever saw. You were done with him. He was fucking around and still expected of you to be faithful? Delusional.

Thanks to Melissa and a lot of self analysis you get to the conclusion that men are probably not for you. No, they were surely not for you. You were lying to yourself for so long and now you were free. You just needed to find the right person and Melissa certainly was the one for you and you were the one for her. She just happened to be a woman and there is nothing wrong with it. There are more benefits than disadvantages.

Happy end!

The moral of the story is gays, love women and only women. Girls don’t want men, they want Melissa Schemmenti.

tags: @janeyseymour @springwitch26 @pinkthrone445 @melagnes @iamnotoriginalphil @spoilmesweetieforficssake @realwitchieshit @fadingdaggerr @schemmentisbranzino @milfandh0ney @aspirationalpeony @agnessharknes @mandy-asimp @milfjuulpod @cosmichahn @schemmentigfs @daddy-heather-dunbar @spooky-holtz @the-bad-batch @beshbarmak1

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