â[You all]Â make me want to burn my notebook...â*
*aka* âa round of applauseâ or âwhen the fan-fic writers have earned their own fangirl.â
just the other day, i was telling one of my mentors that i wish that i could find a writing group like queen toniâs sisterhood.Â
but as i scrolled tumblr, i was once again reminded that so many black women writers on this app are KILLING it & have been doing so for years! yâall already have a virtual writing group going.Â
maybe one day become a contributor rather than just a consumer. iâm way more comfy w/creative nonfiction and essays, but iâm still trying to be like you when i grow up.Â
good writing is good writing. and you amazing storytellers deserve your flowers!Â
Note: this is part 1 b/c iâve read so many wonderful words on here that i canât possibly remember it all in one fell swoop.Â
 so, in no particular order:Â
@kumkaniudakuâ the adventures of chad and coco your writing is beautiful and the love b/t the characters feels almost tangible. the daddy-daughter love is especially heartwarming w/chad & his twin. and the whole âneighborâ series is the shit dreams are made of. you are just. everything! i laughed, i cried, i was on the edge of my seat. (i even created a playlist of the song recommendations LOL)
@sheabuttahwrites the fearlessness and candor of ever make her one of my favorite characters--ever. (pun intended LMAO) you wrote the hell out of âfine print.â the twists, turns and angst had me perched and clutching my imaginary pearls. and the humor in âfirst flowâ is top notch (i donât know how you knew witty banter is like, my favorite thing ever. but thanks, sis!)
@eerythingisshaka i told you how i feel about âwish grantedâ but i just loved that almost-love story. your dialogue made me laugh out loud @ so many points. and i didnât want the story to end. i just need me one good trip to the right fountain! iâma make pennies and nickels rain till i hit the right one. lol.Â
@ghostfacekill-monger everything iâve read of yours has been immaculate. but cowboy stunna is that dude. and while nora (granny is the queen of shade and set ups! and dahlia was sooo sweet) and zipporah are lovely, bailey byrd is my boo. idc idc! âmaggie & the ferocious beastâ was such an unexpected treat. and whitney rose & mâbaku make me swoon just thinking about them. i still have that playlist saved to my spotify.Â
@berberriescornerâ anyone who writes yahya fics is a friend in my head. but you also allow me to indulge in manny montana at his finest--RIO! your fics almost make having 50-11 kids w/the love of your life sound appealing. and yâall know me and my childfree household donât play that. LOL!Â
there are so many other works iâve come across i canât name all the tumblr handles & blogs at one time.Â
please donât feel any type of way if i havenât shown you love yet. there are so many of you who influence and inspire me that this post is just the beginning.Â
*shout out to everyone old/weird enough to get the love jones reference.Â
âI gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. Each night I breathe you and become high.â
I was discussing with some fandom friends how fanfic culture seems to have shifted from mostly comments to silent reading (though I'm very blessed with ya'll on TRT, thank you). And that makes me wonder what the reason is - I've seen a lot of theories and people asking that question but I figured I'd poke ya'll and see what I find.
This question is mostly directed towards those that never comment on a fanfic or rarely comment on a fanfic. If you usually comment or always comment (thank you!), you're totally good on this one.
To fanfic readers who do not comment, why don't you comment?
Commenting makes me anxious/stressed
I'm too tired to comment
I'm afraid of someone judging me for what I read if they find my comment
I don't like being tracked/leaving a trail
I don't think fanfic writers should expect comments
If I don't have time to leave a big long comment I don't like commenting at all
I don't want to bother the author
Nuance/Other (feel free to explain in the comments or tags)
I always or almost always comment
Voting ended onMay 25
Please reblog for a large sample size, I'm legitimately curious
Children enjoying a pit-cooked barbeque meal, Braswell Plantation near Rocky Mount, NC, September 1944. From Conservation and Development Department, Travel and Tourism Photo Files, North Carolina State Archives, Raleigh, NC. (SOURCE)
Manny saw you arrive but remained seated at the bar, letting you come to him. Angling himself in his seat to face you, he enjoyed watching you navigate around all the bodies squeezed into the clubhouse. His eyes went over your outfit with appreciation. Tracking your movements had him tucking his bottom lip behind his teeth and slowly releasing it, tilting his head as his fingers traced the shape of the beer bottle he held. Every time someone stopped you to say hello, you could catch a glimpse of him over their shoulder and the slow curling of the corner of his mouth made your lips twitch, pressing down on a secret smile of your own.
When you finally got to him, he stood up, taking your hands to pull you into him. âHey, mamas,â he rasped out.
You never got a chance to say a word in return. The kiss he greeted you with was smooth but possessive. Longer and deeper than his normal kiss hello, especially considering you were in a packed-out room filled with his brothers and party people. As he ended the kiss, he held you close, his hand still cupping your neck and ear.
Aware of the crush of bodies around you, you darted your eyes to the crowd and back to him. With an embarrassed smile, you pressed your hand into his chest, washed in both a self-conscious heat and a sensual one.
âManny--â, you started.
âWhat?â he murmured, his face just centimeters from yours.
The look in his eyes and the gravel in his voice snatched the words from your throat and he was kissing you again. Shamelessly, seductively - releasing a quiet groan into your mouth that made your fingers curl, crumpling his cut in your fists. Cupping your jaw so you could not escape him again, he asked you how you were and if you missed him, as if you could formulate a coherent thought between the soft nudges of his tongue to your lips. You had missed him terribly while you had been visiting your family and his hands trailing up and down your back was making it far worse.
âLetâs go,â you whispered, falling further into his dark eyes.
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth while he traced your lip with his thumb. âCanât, Reina. We got a visiting charter in the house tonight. Itâs gonna be a while before I can just disappear.â His Adamâs apple dipped in a silent chuckle, seeing the disappointment on your face. âMmmâŠI know, Bella. Weâre gonna have to wait, but listenâŠâ Leaning near your ear, he let his heated rasp slide down the side of your neck, as his hands slid down to lift you up tighter to him by your butt cheeks. âI got you though. I promise you that.â Â
Your knees went weak from his dark vow. But across the room, someone chose that moment to call out Mannyâs name, and just like that, the spell was broken.
âBe back,â he said, stroking your cheek and pressing another warm kiss on your lips.
When he returned to your side, it only got worse. Or was it better? Truth was, Manny was handsy with you on any given day. But not seeing you for almost a week turned him into an octopus. There was no escaping his touch - teasing, possessive, needy. As the night went on, he held conversations while tracing your waist, playing with your hair, and laying his long ass arm around your shoulders so he could trail his fingers over the tops of your breasts. Â
Every time you playfully pushed him away, he tugged you right back to him. His hands took up permanent residence on your ass, occasionally following the seam of your jeans between your butt cheeks. His errant fingertips dipping as low as he could get away with without having you pinch him to remind him you were still in public. At one point, he had turned your body just enough to hide how he was palming your breast and toying with your nipple from the room, while silencing your protesting lips with an innocent-looking kiss.
âManny, stooooop,â you whined, trying to peel his wandering hand off of you once again. Your core was beginning to ache from his constant teasing attention.
Letting loose a rumbling chuckle, he dipped his knees, grazing his lips and stubble up your neck to your ear. âWhat, mamas? Thought you said you missed me.âÂ
Oh my God, you thought, shrinking away, ducking your chin down to suppress the spray of tingles his move released all over your body. âYou know I didâŠbut youâre being mean.â
Looking down at you, he wet his lips, giving you three slow blinks. âIon know what youâre talkinâ about.â
Frowning, you wanted to fuss at him but the smoky look he was giving you had you melting instead and he knew it. Sucking your teeth at him, you flopped your head into his chest, whining, âYes, you doooo.â
His deep laugh made you smile, too, and he wrapped his arms around you again, wiggling you to make you look up at him. âCâmon, now. I ainât mean. Since when is it âmeanâ to touch you? Hm?â Running his hand slowly up and down your back, he continued, raising his eyebrows. âIs this hurting you? Huh?â
You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips down on your smile, not wanting to give him an inch.
âNo?â Giving your waistline a squeeze, he trailed his fingertips up your side to cup your face. âHow about this?â
Standing up straight with his arms low and loose around your waist, he gave you a sultry smile. His eyes sparkled with devilment. âThat sounded like somethinâ, bellaâŠbut it wasnât pain.â
He wet his lips, leaning in, then denied you the kiss you expected. Instead, he floated his lips down to your neck, opening his mouth wide and sucking hard on your tender skin. Oooooh shit. It was your well-known weakness. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth watered and a moan escaped, mixing with his low chuckle vibrating against your throat. He let go to flick his tongue on the tender spot he created and switched sides of your neck, biting down and sucking to his heartâs content. The noise of the clubhouse dissipated as he increased the suction, sending rolls of pleasure through you. You gripped his back as your kitty pulsed and neither of you had to check to know you were leaking through to your panties at that point.
Embarrased by the reaction he had just elicited from you, you buried your face in his cut and giggled out, âI hate you.â
His name being called again was the only thing that saved you from getting more of his torment. Watching him leave you once again, you ached for him, unable to stop the flutter and clutch deep within. Free to move around the room as you pleased, you hoped chatting it up with some of the women you knew would shake off the lingering feeling of his lips. And hands. And tongue flicks. Lawd, nothing was helping. Distracted from the conversation around you, you started fanning yourself to calm down, when it hit you. Two can play this game. Excusing yourself, you headed for the bathroom to level the playing field.
0.o.0.o.0
When you found Manny, he was sitting at a table with a couple you didnât know, Canche and Otero. Manny smile was angelic, happy to see you and offering you his lap. Sitting down carefully, you greeted everyone, not really wanting to join the conversation. As soon as you were settled, he placed his hand high up on your thigh, sneaking a swipe over your sensitive vee with his thumb, making you twitch before you crossed your legs. Mannyâs devilish side was showing once again; he purposely kept his attention on the speaker, pretending not to feel your eyes on him. His cheeks were raised a little too high for it to be just because of an amusing story.
Oh, itâs like that? Game on. Â
âWere you looking for me?â You adjusted in his lap and he squeezed your thigh as you kissed his cheek warmly. Pulling back, you glanced at his cheek, wincing, you apologized, âSorry, babe. I got you.â
Smiling casually, you wiped your lip gloss from his cheek with your thumb, letting your index and middle fingers linger under his nose. It only took a second for Mannyâs lips to part in disbelief as the familiar scent hit him. Pussy. Your pussy. His pussy.Â
His eyes snapped up to yours, silently questioning. The fuck?Â
Your face was a picture of innocence. You blinked twice, your expression questioning his - then you smiled, cracking your gum, arching an eyebrow playfully. What?
Are you serious? Mannyâs eyebrows flashed, bouncing together in a quick frown, not wanting to call attention to the silent communication you were having.
You ran your fingernails over his sparse beard, the joy in your eyes contradicted the daring game you were playing with him. Letting him get another good whiff, you leaned to whisper, âI told you to stop playing with me.â
âSooo, what?â His eyes darted toward the other people at the table and back to you. âYou handled it by yourself?â
You held his gaze, tracing his neck tattoo. Denying him your answer just long enough for his frown to flash across his face again, urging you to answer. âWhat else could I do?â You shrugged, shifting to get up, but Manny was not having it. His hold on you tightened enough to keep you right where you were.
âAye.â He gave you a quick squeeze, his dark eyes demanding the truth. âFor real?âÂ
With a smile, you pushed him further by peeling his hand from your leg, softly imprinting your next words on his jaw with your lips. "I'd never lie to you."
Pulling back, you looked him in the eye and put that same lust-scented finger in your mouth, using it to swirl your gum. Then, taking the entire digit in, you closed your lips around it. Drawing it out slowly, releasing it with a quiet pop. The other people at the table were forgotten as you licked your lips clean, holding his stare with one of your own until you saw the tips of his ears begin to color.
Manny gave the table a quick glance. âLetâs go,â he rasped out, quietly.
âWhere? Outside?â Your questions came out sultry, pulling him in. âNow?â
His dark eyes turned smoky, and he wet his lips. âYeah.â
âMmmm.â Leaning closer, you cupped his jaw as if to kiss him, hovering. Your soft smile spread into a grin before you delivered the final blow. âI donâ really need to now, babe.â
Taking advantage of his surprise, you quickly jumped up, crafty in offering to get more drinks for the table. Mannyâs eyes glittered, challenging your win. Knowing he was still watching, you put a little extra swing in your hips as you walked away. Lucky for you, or maybe not so lucky, the throb in his lap kept him from getting up and marching you out the door like he wanted to. Â
Waiting for your order, you caught a peek at Manny over your shoulder. Through the roomâs smoky air, you could see the dangerous shine in his eyes. A sneaky smile crept up on your lips, imagining how your little lie was going to make for a very wild night later. You were definitely going to pay a delicious price, but for now, he deserved to think he had missed out.
Smart as he was, the Mayan still had lessons to learn about women.
Mighty funny how quickly Emmanuel went from "... it's going to be a while before I can disappear..." to "Let's go!" Smh. đ€Ł
The intimacy you captured in this story is just perfect.
And why did i read this entire story in Mia's voice?! I missed the Rivas family & didn't even realize it! Time to put "On My Grave," back in reading rotation, particularly the deleted scenes!
Though I never watched Mayans before, y'all done made me reactivate my Hulu subscription.
I was along for the the ride on the "Manny Mayans" journey purely off the strength of Manny Montana standom.
Now I get to see Manny Mayans in action for myself.
Tucked away in a grand hotel suite just outside of Detroit with your bossâ men standing guard, you still felt exposed, vulnerable. Hearing the low whizzing sound of a keycard in the door froze your breath in your lungs. You focused on the sound of the lock disengaging, the click of the door closing, and the movement of air a single set of footsteps made, their soft swish getting closer until a slim silhouette appeared. Rio.Â
Your boss had entered the dim space quietly on purpose, not wanting to wake you if you were sleeping - disappointed to see that you werenât. Casually standing with his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the bump-out the room had for separating the dining area from the living room where you sat.
Sitting stiff on the couch, you had already lowered your eyes to the floor. You had been working for him long enough to know that even in the near dark, he was scanning the room, taking in the secrets it offered. It was too late to hide that you were sitting in the exact same place as when he left that morning. The living room of the suite was draped in shadows because you hadnât gathered enough energy to get up and turn on the additional lamps when nightfall hit. The food he had delivered sat uneaten on the coffee table. And if he looked into the master bedroom, he would know that you hadnât taken a soak in the tub like he suggested, or napped in the perfectly made bed.
The soft click of the light switch he touched seemed too loud - the light, intrusive. His dark eyes, surrounded by even darker eyelashes made you feelâŠsomething. And you werenât ready for that, not yet. You needed to stay numb. Numb was safe. NoâŠnumb was control. Without it youâd have to feel the ache in your chest from the screams you hadnât let out. Or acknowledge how badly your head ached from lack of sleep. Sleep you were avoiding to dodge the nightmares you knew were waiting for you. Your eyes burned from the refusal to cry. Hidden under your clothes, the abrasions and bruises on your body throbbed in time with your heartbeat - unable to heal because there was no rest for your wrecked nervous system. Your bodyâs ability to function normally was suspended, waiting for the one thing that would allow you to settle and reclaim your peace.
From your peripheral, you tracked Rioâs feet crossing the room on his customary glide. As he stood next to you, you didnât have to look up at him to know he was taking off his armor - placing his gun, his phones and his watch on the table. After your stillness, his movements seemed to spark the air in the room - low vibrations surrounded him as he sat down and centered himself one body part at a time. His head dipped left and then right. He rolled his shoulders back, extending his arms out, and interlocked his fingers while cracking his neck. With an exhale, his slim form relaxed and spread, taking up more space - but still he was careful not to let any part of him touch you.
Leaning back on the sofa you shared, he interlaced his fingers resting his hands on his stomach, crossing his legs, ankle over knee, swiveling his head your way. Concentrated on you, he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He hated the stiffness in your posture and the blank look on your face, but he also admired it. You were stronger than heâd ever imagined. It was impressve. Your silence was a wall built incredibly thick and tall. Behind it, you protected not only your true self but also any details of what you had personally endured during the 48 hours that you were with them.
The quiet you had found solace in all day, was now unsettling. You didnât ask it out loud, but the question hung heavy in the air between you just the sameâŠDid you find them?
Over the last five days, Rio had used every connection he had and paid out thousands of dollars for information. Getting you back and revenge were worth every penny. Anger swelled up in Rioâs chest remembering the state you were in when he located you. Your mental detachment, your robotic answers to his questions, the way you wouldnât let anyone touch you. Looking at the remenants of it on you now made him feel reckless, vindictive. It made him want to go back in time to before he had spent the day exacting savage punishment on the stupidest man in Detroit and his cohorts - just so he could do it all over again.
Even as Rio had washed the evidence of what he had done from his face and hands and changed his clothes, he had wished that he could have extended his time with them. But the news of their retribution had to circulate quickly - a warning to anyone who wanted to try the same betrayal.
Killing them was necessary for business, for his name. Doing it himself? That was personal. That was for you.
The bastards didnât suffer enough.
With Rioâs eyes going over you, you fought to keep your heart rate even - proud of accomplishing the feat. It was the one thing you had left that was fully under your control, and no one was going to make you tip over the edge - not even him. Not until you felt like it was safe to fall apart. When you felt like your life was yours again.
âYou wonât see them again.â
His raspy voice sounded muffled to your ears. You lost the thread of control you had just moments before and your heart rate skyrocketed, pounding painfully in your chest. You turned your head slightly, covertly watching his mouth, needing to hear more. Needing assurance that the men whose faces still grinned and taunted you when you closed your eyes, would never appear from the shadows. Â Â
Silently, Rio reached over and gently traced his thumb over the discolored marks the handcuffs had etched into your wrist. His frown increased feeling the lumpy evidence left behind of their crimes against you.
They definitely didnât suffer enough.
âNo one will see any of them again.â
This time his voice wrapped around you like smoke, burning sage - penetrating your mind, clearing, cleansing. The shuddering breath you sucked in made Rio take the risk of holding your hand in both of his. He trailed his fingertips over your knuckles, allowing you to see that his were swollen and red, and that some had broken skin. Letting you see that he had done the job himself.
Itâs done? You thought you said it out loud, but in reality your lips had just fumbled over the letters, your actual voice stayed caught in your throat. The two words forming in your mouth felt foreign but you tried to push them out again. You swallowed to wet your throat before speaking this time.
Your voice was rough from nonuse, and husky from the need to believe him. âItâs done?â Â
"Whatâd I say?â
This time you forced yourself to lift your eyes to his. His tone was firm but his face was void of the self-assured expression that normally resided there.
âI'd never lie to you."
No, he wouldnâtâŠnot about this.Â
Taking in an audible breath, you pulled your hand away. The blood pushing through your system felt heavy, slogging, forcing itâs way through your veins. As you allowed your body to come back to life - dizziness crept in and nausea began working your stomach over. You felt the pinpricks of your pores opening and sweat coating the surface of your skin. You gripped the tops of your thighs to try to stop your hands from shaking, biting your lip as hard as you could. You were losing control faster than you expected, faster than you wanted to.
In that moment, you hated knowing how perceptive a man Rio was. You didnât want him to see what was happening to you - to see your weakness. Feeling his eyes on you, you wanted to get up and close yourself off from him in the other room. To hide, so you could hold your head up high when you went back to work again. You tried to take a steadying breath positioning yourself to get up, needing desperately to break down in private, but you knew your legs werenât going to hold you now. Your mind was momentarily incapable of the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. Overwrought, your body could not be trusted to assist you in your escape.
The ticks sounding off from the huge art deco clock on the wall, marked each second passing by. With a noisy, shuddering inhale, your shoulders began to come down from where stress had them locked up unnaturally high. Against your will, relief made the stiffness in your posture weaken. And with your spine no longer supported by fear and rage, you began to sway - slowly tipping toward where his weight dipped the sofa cushion you shared.
And for a moment, Rio put down his position as your boss and opened his arm to make a safe space for you to land against his side.
To quote Tanner Adell, đ¶ ...pen game cash Hemingway... đ¶
The tension and angst throughout the whole story is too good. But favorite excerpts include:
This time his voice wrapped around you like smoke, burning sage - penetrating your mind, clearing, cleansing. The shuddering breath you sucked in made Rio take the risk of holding your hand in both of his. He trailed his fingertips over your knuckles, allowing you to see that his were swollen and red, and that some had broken skin. Letting you see that he had done the job himself.
And, too:
Against your will, relief made the stiffness in your posture weaken. And with your spine no longer supported by fear and rage, you began to sway - slowly tipping toward where his weight dipped the sofa cushion you shared.
The agony of hyper-vigilance is so real!
I probably have said this so many times, but the way y'all write Rio with full personhood, even when he only has 3-4 spoken sentences in an entire fic vs. the extremely limited view of him we got across several seasons of GGs is so dope to me.
Comment! Reblogs are a lovely compliment to pay!đ
SOA belongs to Kurt, this story belongs to me and I belong to The Boys.
I have no tag list for SOA anymore so please tag the Jax girlies if you know 'em! đ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Here we go........
Your intention when you knocked on his door uninvited was to have a talk about what had been bothering you. You just needed to put it all on the table to see if he could be the one. Closed mouths donât get fed, right? And your plan would have worked except Jax opened the door with wet hair, a bare chest, and a diminishing storm in his eyes. The purple cast around his right eye, scuffed knuckles and the droop of his shoulders told you that heâd had a day. Damn it.
Determined, you tried to approach the subject of your floundering relationship gently but as you talked, he moved closer. His hand on your leg became a distracted thumb rubbing back and forth. He frowned in concentration on your words but his gaze kept falling from your eyes to your lips - effortlessly conquering your resolve. Silently, switching the exchange from your needs to his. Leaning into you for comfort, clarity - a reprieve.
Jackson Teller. Every squeeze he gave your hand, his sighs, the way he dipped his chin down to look out from under his eyelashes at you - it was all engineered to successfully break you down, bit by bit. It was no surprise that without much time passing at all, you found yourself with your limbs spread east and north across his sheets. His swirling hips. wrecking your ability to breathe. Smiling down at you devilishly, as he skillfully banged into every spot inside of you that made you choke out his name.
Slow down baby, you gasped out.
His dark laugh meant he had no intention of complying with your request. It was a different kind of selfishness, some kind of challenge he made with himself, to make you come so quickly. Realistically, it wasnât the worst thing in the world. Some women would pray for the way he tapped every button to send you over the edge. It was mind-shattering, but sometimes, you wanted to relax in it. You needed moments of leisure to go with the intensity. There was not enough teasing once you were in bed, not enough closeness or talking - just go time and flipping positions and prying reactions from you. At this point, you wanted to have time to actually crave what he could do. You wanted him to withhold his talents and make you beg for it, instead of only knowing what it was like to have to beg him off.
Had no one ever told him the old addage that variety was the spice of life? Or that there was more to passion than just full throttle?Â
With one of your legs flush to his chest and the other trapped under his full weight, he leaned into every thrust. His bed frame rocked and thumped the wall in time with your heated connection and the barely contained power in his aggression. You extended your arms out, reaching for something to hold onto as the telltale heat began to roll over you. Frantically, your hands flip-flopped, scrambling in your search for the corner of the mattress, the pillow under your head, the fitted sheet - anything to keep you grounded while you were losing your mind. A second later, you were right on the edge and he knew it. It was almost cruel that he chose that moment to slide his hand down your leg to where you were splayed open for his viewing pleasure, and wobble the hard, topmost part of your clit with his thumb. Gasping, you tried to twist away from the overload he was creating and he, per usual, was delighted.
Oh God! Too much, too much!
You may have shrieked the words but your body told him otherwise. Nipples rock hard, back arched, hips rocking, the erotic desperation in your expression. As you crested, crying out from the sheer bliss he pushed you to, your head thrashed left and right. You pounded your fist on his leg for mercy - shuddering and gasping because he didnât stop. Jax rarely did. His goal was always fucking you right through your orgasm and into the next - conquering you.
Jax leaned forward, his hand slamming into his headboard for balance. Reestablishing his grip on your leg, he roughly kissed your calf while transitioning from sitting on your thigh to planting himself securely between your legs. Even as the heat building in your core again brought another layer of sweat all over your body and your toes began to curl up tight, you knew that this would be the last time. You needed so much more than just this. And Jackson Teller, well, he couldnât give it to you. He never gave you memorable amounts of time to hold onto. Snippets of time where his caressing your face or hair made you forget the world around you. Moments where he imprinted his longing for you on your lips, without his hands removing your clothes. He cuddled with you but never hovered, looking into your eyes. Never showing up at your door with a dorky little gift in his pocket to go with that boyish smile, instead of a pack of condoms.
He was so beautiful. The picture of him you held when your eyes closed up tight and your orgasm swept you away was of his blue eyes darkened and blown out in pleasure, his brows furrowed, his jaw hanging, his hair dangling and sticking to his sweaty forehead. Vulnerable. Jaxâs low growl began as your tunnel spasmed, pulsing and fluttering, pulling him over the edge with you. The veins in his neck and forearms bulged before his back arched and he grimaced, falling forward in a controlled collapse onto you. While he grunted the bliss of his release into your neck, helpless and shuddering, you held on to him. Stroking his back, kissing the side of his face and hair - giving to him what you yourself needed, in the hope that he would reciprocate. He responded like a man who had needed to be held for a very long time. He tucked his hands under your arms and grasped your shoulders, holding on to the grounding you offered, staying inside of you, being one with youâŠbut not long enough. Far too soon for your emotional comedown, he rolled out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. Despite him taking care to cover you, the loss of the warmth of his body hit you with a sadness, solidifying your decision for you.
How could he not see that the one thing he seemed to need so much, so deeply, he never thought to offer - intimacy?
Minutes later, Jax lay facing away from you as you began getting dressed, but you knew he wasnât asleep. He watched your shadow move on the wall with that familiar feeling in his gut. You were another one who wasnât going to stay. Another one that he couldnât satisfy, not in the totality that seemed to come so easily for other people, other couples. Not that you and he were that just yet, but stillâŠknowing he missed the mark all the time wasnât lost on him. He had the looks, the smile, the power and the gavel - but not the bond. His chest ached with the want of it. He was seemingly designated at birth to be The Conqueror, but somehow never truly chosen. Tara had needed him to be somebody else, even while she secretly coveted the leather. Wendy had loved drugs more than him. His own mother loved power more than him.
The joy of love withered and died around him every time.
Reaching back in your direction, he grabbed another pillow to jam under his head. Foolishly, he swallowed any words he should have said when he felt your lips brush over his temple in goodbye. When you were steps away from his bedroom door, he closed his eyes. The part of him that refused to watch you go was at war with the part of him that wanted to call you back.
When the front door closed with a familiar swish and clunk, he opened his eyes just in time to see your headlights flash on his wall as you backed out of his driveway. Rolling over onto his back, he knew sleep wasn't coming anytime soon - and the ache in his chest wasnât leaving.
it is a key part of my personal ethos to never sympathize with men, but here you are!!
withyourwords!
that make it hard for me to enjoy schadenfreude!
How could he not see that the one thing he seemed to need so much, so deeply, he never thought to offer - intimacy?
Minutes later, Jax lay facing away from you as you began getting dressed, but you knew he wasnât asleep. He watched your shadow move on the wall with that familiar feeling in his gut. You were another one who wasnât going to stay. Another one that he couldnât satisfy, not in the totality that seemed to come so easily for other people, other couples. Not that you and he were that just yet, but stillâŠknowing he missed the mark all the time wasnât lost on him. He had the looks, the smile, the power and the gavel - but not the bond. His chest ached with the want of it. He was seemingly designated at birth to be The Conqueror, but somehow never truly chosen. Tara had needed him to be somebody else, even while she secretly coveted the leather. Wendy had loved drugs more than him. His own mother loved power more than him.
damn, this is so sad!
y'all's ability to make me feel a way about characters i don't even want to know or like is so wild!
You drive into the elementary school parking lot and spot his G wagon right away. He smirks halfway out the window as you pull up alongside him, window to window without having to get out. His eyes look you over lazily, as he tries to hide the fact that you look good - you always do these days. Â
âHey sexy, heard they upgraded your whip. Must really be putting these criminals through itâ he flirts. Itâs just Rio being Rio.
âChristopherâ you greet him with much less charm shutting your car off and removing your seatbelt. You adjust your mirrors to be aware of your surroundings and take your gun off your hip locking it in the glovebox.
âI donât know why you want to work a job where you need that. You should be put up somewhere, out the wayâ he continues full of shit. Heâs handsome, charismatic and your chemistry is unmatched. You send an exasperated eye roll off in his direction and he chuckles. His smile disarms you.
âI mean baby if work is that stressful we can park in a back street and get it inâ he proposes, his one track mind fully tuned in.
âGlad youâre enjoying yourself Christopherâ you smile pleasantly ignoring his advances. âIf I quit, who's gonna keep you out of jail?â You ask him. âYour partners are courting informants. Their operation is pretty much compromised. You need to untangle yourself from them fastâ you share and he nods looking pensive. You check your mirrors again and see kids running through soccer drills. When you turn back to Rio heâs already watching you.
âCan you do me a solid? Kick up a fuss somewhere else? Make a big stink?â He asks.
âYou know I can't, I'm just passing along information. You helped me so Iâm returning the favourâ you remind him.
âHow fast do I need to be untangled?â
âExpeditiously. Is that a problem?â You ask.
âItâs no problem, mama. You know Iâm always ready.â He says sitting up straight.
You nod, âgood, if I hear anything else Iâll let you know.â
âPreciate itâ he nods. You get out your work phone and look through your urgent emails that have been sorted by your assistant.
âWhere are you coming from all dolled up?â He pries.
âWouldnât you like to know?â You smile without looking over at him.
âLunch at the new restaurant Elsieâs. You kept it light with a chicken Cesar so you probably really wasnât feeling the guyâ he says forcing you to turn. This time his head is against the back of his seat as he looks through his dash instead of at you. Pleased with his reconnaissance. âYou donât have to do all that Mama. He wonât know what to do with you. You know those squares like to throw fits when you dump them. Donât make me have to kill himâ he says, maintaining his aura of nonchalance. His eyes meet yours for a moment effectively communicating that heâs not placing. But your world isn't his. He has bigger fish to fry.
âI donât need to be babysat, I can handle myself and I know what I need better than anyone elseâ you assert and he scoffs. You hear a shrill whistle and see the kids lining up in front of the coach and start the car. You watch the kids run off the line and hit the button to open your trunk. Your son comes barrelling down the hill tossing his soccer bag into the trunk.
âHi mom!â He shouts.
âHi babyâ you smile as he runs over to his fatherâs trunk getting his school bag and another one.
âBye dad, see you next weekâ he says walking between your two cars as Rio gets out to hug him tight. You catch a hint of his cologne. The woodsy, leather smell with hints of bourbon used to drive you wild.
âBye, kid. Love you, listen to your mom alright. Do all your homework and donât try to cheat her on bed time. Donât make her call me.â Christopher says being stern.Â
âOkâ your son tells his father as Christopher takes the bags, tossing them in the trunk for his boy before getting to the passenger door. Your son hops in right beside you.
âMom, you look gorgeous.â he gushes.
âShe had a date,â Rio says, blowing up your spot.
âWeâll talk when we get home say goodbye to your fatherâ you tell your son as you shift gears into drive.
âBye dadâ he says sitting back,
âBy Sonnieâ Rio says and you turn to watch the perfect mix of the both of you fasten his seatbelt. Sonnie at you through the rearview mirror as you pull out of the parking spot. You smile back as he connects his phone to the car.
âHow was practise?â You ask him.
âGood, dad has a new house.â he says.
âDoes he?â You ask, having missed the memo.
âDonât get upset, we didn't stay there yet. I just got to see my room - itâs huge and so is the yard.â Sonnie says and the excitement in his voice makes you happy. Reality gnaws at your nerves, you hope to God that Rio is being smart and not doing anything to jeopardise his freedom. A huge house means his earnings have to be legit.
âThatâll be good for your soccer drillsâ you smile being positive for Sonnie.
âRight, dad thought of that. He thought of everythingâ Sonnie says.
âWell Iâm happy for himâ You smile.
âThereâs space for you too, and my brothers and sistersâ Sonnie continues as you stop at a red light. You turn to the back seat with a raised brow. You know good and well your problem of a baby father was not just flirting with a baby on the way.
âDoes your dad haveâ don't answer thatâ you stop not wanting him in the middle of the mess that had started the day you met his father. A smart woman would have never spoken to the criminal that pulled her out of a warehouse before it went up in smoke, again. The gun to your head should have been enough to terrify you more than his eyes and raspy voice intrigued you. It was the first time you went into the station and lied about what happened. Several comrades were down, internal affairs later discovered that they were all dirty cops, making the masked man a vigilante.
The next time you saw his face it was without the obstruction of a ski mask. It was after a girls night gone wrong. One of those nights where friendship implodes because someoneâs drinking too much, and the other person's too thirsty. You were at the quiet bar in need of a respite from the girl drama. You were two whisky sours in when he pulled up a chair and smiled to tell you you looked better outside of your work uniform. You took in his features for the first time, eyes lingering on the bird tattoo on his neck, a poor choice for a criminal. Or was he? You still werenât sure. He smirked at the recognition in your eyes and then his lingered on your lips. There were a hundred questions on the tip of your tongue and none of them made it out.
âYou know how to play pool? I win, I get to take you outâ he said before you could respond.
âIâm fine thanksâ You responded nursing your drink.
Heâd worn you down eventually though. The next time you saw him after leaving the bar that night was on a detective's wall a few months later. Misguided loyalty had you back at his bar. You were seated for no more than twenty minutes before he appeared at your side. You ended up following him to a back room where you told him what you saw at the police station. It was how your relationship persisted for the next nine months. Favor for favor until one night he finally taught you how to play pool.
You shake your head pulling yourself out of the trip down memory lane.
Brothers and sisters.
Sonnieâs words replay on a loop in your head. You didnât know what to call your relationship with Rio. Itâd been years since youâd had sex. The flirting never died though, neither did his requests for family. But there was always another woman that piqued his neverending curiosity. Always some opportunity that jeopardised your career and his freedom. Heâd never come outright to confirm or deny his illegal dealings but where thereâs smoke there's fire. You know better than to think heâs fully innocent with all the times something about him has floated through the station. You manage to push the thought of him shacking up with someone else to the back of your head as you prepare dinner, help Sonnie with his homework and then put him to bed.
Youâre sitting on the front step when Christopherâs car rolls onto the boulevard parking in front of your house. He hops out and meets you on your porch. You donât speak heading inside. He follows silently as you cross from the front of your home into the back for more privacy from prying eyes.
âWhats wrong?â he asks, sitting on the picnic table. You look up at him with folded arms. âYou know Iâma handle it, what is it Ma?â he asks, sitting forward.Â
âYouâre moving?â you ask.
âThatâs what youâre mad about? Itâs closer to his school. I can be around moreâ he says and it all sounds like a nightmare.Â
âYou and his brothers and sisters?â you ask and he jolts noticeably before his posture stiffens, his signature smirk slides into place â a spark in his eye follows. Heâs the cat that got the creme; you're the rat in the trap. You try to calculate your misstep as his smirk grows into a smile. He canât help himself, he's so tickled. Heâs in a checkmate and you donât know where youâve made a misstep.
âMe and my childrenâ he nods with unnecessary cruelty.Â
âSonnie thinks Iâll be staying there too, please donât sell him dreamsâ you sigh and he shakes his head.
âYou said we could get back together when Iâm a hundred percent out. Iâll be there by the time the house is finished. Then you can sell this one or put it up for rent and get your back blown out most nights. Donât worry, our bedroom has soundproofing - I know how you like to get loudâ he says and you scoff taking a step back.
Your brain short circuits before rebooting and you look up at quite possibly the most delusionally insufferable man on the planet. He grins before having a laugh at your expense. You fold your arms too stunned to speak.
âBe for real Christopher, Iâll be more mad about you lying to me than you telling me youâre having a babyâ you sigh. He steps down from the bench so your arms are touching his chest. He takes a finger tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his.
âMy dick hasnât been in you so you can't be pregnant. Lets go upstairs to practiseâ he says his voice low, seductive and raspy. You shake your head and push him away, resisting the electricity his proximity and bedroom voice sends through your body.
âWe both know if Sonnie went to your place talking about brothers and sisters you wouldn't be so civil - stalker.â you state changing the subject.
âWhen our son talks about brothers and sisters heâs talking about our kids. Stop playing with me.â he says with nonchalance. You search his eyes for a lie and find none.
âMom?â You hear and rush inside.
âSonnie?â You ask, seeing him in his PJâs.
âDad?â he asks, looking behind you. You turn to see Rio coming in and turn to Sonnie lighting up with hope. You regret calling Rio instantly.
âI went to sleep in your bed with you and you weren't there momâ Sonnie says turning his attention back to you. âWhat are you doing in the backyard dad?â Sonnie questions.
âItâs spring, I forgot to check the deck to make sure the skunks donât try to nest again.â Rio says lying so effortlessly, itâs scary. âWeâre all clear buddy and you're too big to be climbing in your mamaâs bedâ Rio says, stepping around you to pick Sonnie up. Itâs ridiculous because at eight, Sonnies are more than half of his fathers size, but you watch as your boy smiles dangling as his father takes him up to his room.
âCan dad read me a bedtime story?â Sonnie asks.
âSince heâs hereâ you sigh, refilling your carafe and bringing it up to the lonely primary bedroom. You rest it on the bedside table and head into the bathroom with all of your necessities. With Rio under your roof you lock the door knowing he has no boundaries and take your shower, then do the skincare thatâs aided your genes at maintaining a youthful face in spite of a stressful job and personal life.
You step out lotioning your hands and see Rio sitting at the bench on the foot of your bed. You half expected it. He stares and you let him, itâs not something heâs witnessed in years. The intimacy of being in your space, seeing you undone, vulnerable and ready to sleep without him.
âIâll walk you outâ you say slipping your feet into your house shoes.
He nods, smiling. âYou still use the oil I used to rub on your stomach when you were pregnant and after?â he asks. You nod instead of telling him that the stress from work and coparenting schedules have you stress eating your way into a few more tiger stripes.
âStop objectifying me Christopherâ you say knowing his eyes are glued to your figure as you descend the stairs ahead of him. You stand at the door and he takes his sweet time.
âEnd whatever you have going on with the square. Our house will be move in ready in two months.â he says.
âGoodnightâ you say, opening the door.
He steps out the house turning before you can shut the door on him. His head dips to kiss you goodnight and he stops millimetres away from your face. You look at him and see heâs looking upstairs. You turn and the whites of your son's eyes grow in the dark as he scrambles back into his bedroom shutting the door.
âHeâs bad just like his daddyâ you groan as Rio laughs.
âDonât do my boy like thatâ Rio says and you smile, shaking your head.
âNiteâ You sigh.
âNight mama, now that catâs out the bag Iâll be by with the blueprints so you can design the layout of your closet and pick the colours for our bedroomâ he says walking down the driveway and to his car.
You shake your head shutting the door out of your depths with Sonnie and his pappy.
_________
Did you know you were waiting for your son to get into your car? Or was that a nice surprise? I never did baby daddy Rio and a bunch of you asked. So here it is đ
Deleted scene from chapter 15 after their talk on the couch when Manny came home from fighting Denny....
Ring the bell!!đYou know what's below the cut đkjxđ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mia kissed his lips again, then his chin, playfully tugging the sparse hairs there with her lips. With a lazy smile, Manny tucked his arms under his head - extra time with her was all he needed, but she had other plans. Feeling his silent chuckle bounce his chest under her, she carefully traveled lower, not wanting to aggravate any injuries he chose not to tell her about, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses here and there, then across his stomach to the forming bruise on his side. The lower she went, the more often he swallowed back the sounds wanting to escape him. The more often he adjusted his position, the more frequent his blinks. There was no ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck to his face. As she perused his torso, his breath hitched a few times and his nose ring glittered from his nostrils flaring as he tried to get a read on her mood.
Raising his head, he tucked his lips in while he watched her give him two more long laps of her soft tongue, tasting him. âBella?â
Looking up at him, she completed another lick near his navel, relishing the clean taste of his skin after his shower. âHm?â
Manny had been wondering if she was being sweet or if she knew what this was doing to him - the look in her eyes gave him his answer. Sitting up, she gave his shorts a firm tug. Obediently, he raised his hips slightly to help her get them off. Dropping them on the floor, Mia ran her hands up his thighs to his boxers, biting her lip hard, her eyes never left his body. The shadowy print of his dick lay to the right, now stirring from where it was originally resting heavy against his thigh. Dragging his eyes from where her palms were burning into his skin, he looked up long enough to study her face and was rendered mute. It had been so long since she looked at him like that. Like he was the most delicious thing she had ever seen - like she was going to devour him. It wasnât until that very moment that he acknowledged mentally how much he needed it.
Miaâs eyes shifted up, locking with his before running a teasing finger along the thicker fabric of his hemline, then under it. Manny twitched involuntarily, unable to continue to play it cool and leave his hands under his head. Catching it, Mia did it again. Her expression? Pure sexual devilment. When she dipped her head down, her mass of curly hair kept him from being able to see what was coming next. Unconsciously, he held his breath, waiting.
âGoddamn,â he rasped out as she dragged her face over his length.
Even though he couldnât see what he wanted to, he still watched her head move and swivel. Her soft cheek and the bump of her nose had him frowning, fighting to let her do what she wanted. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his side, sucking in tiny breaths as if he was afraid of making too much noise and breaking her concentration. When she turned her head to the side and ran her mouth up his firming shaft, her breath hot through the fabric, he couldnât help but palm her head. Squeezing slightly as her teeth grazed his tip, then tongued him gently on the path back down. Caught in the swirl of sensation he had missed so badly, he let his head loll back again. Mia. He wasnât even sure if he said it out loud before sucking in a hiss loud and long, flexing his fingers in her wild curls on the verge of pulling her and her torturous teasing away.
Raising up enough to make Manny let go of her, Mia prayed he didnât try to touch her. She could feel her vee throbbing out of control, the evidence of her state of arousal was already escaping the confines of her swollen nether lips, making her panties cling to her - still, she tortured him and herself. She ran her fingernail over his growing hardness, helplessly tented and rising under her spell, just to hear him hum out a yearning sound, dark and low in his throat. Seeing that his leaking pre-cum and her saliva had left dark spots on his boxer briefs, her mouth watered with the need to taste him without the separation. Carefully pulling them down, she released him. Jesus. Both times they had reconnected, it was in the dim light of her room. And in the shower that night, he had stayed behind her, not to mention she had been practically running from him. But this time it was different. There, in the living room with all the lights on, with him sprawled out under her control, she was mesmerized by the sight of him. Mannyâs chest rose and fell sharply as seconds went by, with her lust-filled eyes going over him as if she had never seen his dick before.
As she slipped into place between his legs, he reached down to push her thick hair back, needing to see her take him inâŠneeding to see it all. Gripping his base, she prepped him with sloppy wet licks, following with her slick lips engulfing his head. Mannyâs jaw went slack, watching it and feeling it was surreal. The hot, wet sensation caused every muscle in his body to seize up, pushing the air from his lungs in an audible, shaky exhale.
Releasing him for a moment, she kissed his shaft and bit down on his thigh, âIs this okay?â
Are you fuckinâ serious?âŠÂ he thought, but Mm-hmâd his assurance anyway, preparing for more.
Doubly determined to send him to heaven, she went slow, adjusting her position, wetting him even more, opening her mouth wider, reacquainting herself with his size. Swallowing the familiar tang, he left on her taste buds. Finding her rhythm while he lost himself, his mouth agape, his eyes locked in on her every move. It had been a long time but by Mannyâs memory, she wasnât missing a step. How many times had he stroked himself off thinking about the things she was doing right now? The way she was drawing muscle twitching swirls on his hips between soft squeezes and digging her hands under him to be able to grip and massage as much of his tight butt cheeks as she could, drawing him up into her mouth. Everything she did was meant to send him flying and it was working. Mia could hear his heavy breathing over her salacious slurps. Delighting in his raspy, mumbled curses and his hands in her hair, unwittingly guiding her. All of it was sending her confidence soaring and causing her own arousal to increase tenfold.
Manny tried to keep watching but he was spinning out quick and dropped his head back again. âUuuugh.â
Mia pushed his leg off the couch to spread him open, and with her hand firmly planted on his inner thigh to keep him in place, she gripped his rock-hard dick in her hand and dipped down to mouth and tongue his balls while she stroked him. Her up and down motion was only interrupted by her need to lap saliva on his shaft to keep his sensitive, stretched skin slick.
âÂĄSannnta mierda! ÂĄComo eso!â he growled out between his teeth, frowning with his eyes closed. âÂĄJoder, sĂ!â (Hoooly shit! Like that! ⊠Fuck yeah!)
His chest was still heaving when she returned to his throbbing dick, opening her mouth wide to take him back in. Her body flushed in heat as he jerked twice, twisting his back in response to her hot mouth closing around him again.
âAaaaah, espera--âŠfuck! W-wait, bella,â he gasped, gulping down air as he swallowed to wet his throat. âWait a second. Waitwaitwaitwait.â
He held her head firmly with both hands, keeping her from moving, but Mia would not be stopped, not this time. She smiled inside, hearing the way he moaned, panting and cursing as she tongued as much of him as she could within the limitations of his grasp. Her saliva began to pool and leak as she worked her jaw. She caressed up and across his stomach lovingly as she held him captive with her plush lips, gently tonguing the bit of his shaft she could reach, rolling her tongue over his tip again and again. Her kitten licks under his rim rippled a shudder down his back, locking the muscles of his abdomen underneath her palm and he loosened his hold.
Mistake? Maybe.
Taking advantage of the moment, she gripped his base to take all of him into her mouth, catching him off guard. He stiffened and groaned low when she gagged, and her throat closed around him. She was sending him off the edge so fast he couldnât help his hips rising or his fingers digging into her hair. When she swiveled her head on the upstroke, he bucked with his heavy-lidded eyes locked on her in disbelief. âShiiiiiit!â
His outburst thrilled her to the core, causing her to flutter and pulse deep within. She moaned in response and the vibration slammed his eyes closed.
âFuuuuuck, mama that shitâs too good.â His hips rose up slowly, his abdomen and thighs tightening. âIâm cominâ! Fuck!â
Proud of making a man as self-controlled as Manny give in to pleasure this way, Mia hollowed her cheeks in response to his cry, mercilessly increasing the suction that had him gasping and groaning as he came. As the first of the rolling bursts of cum hit the back of her throat, hot and thick, her eyes watered and she had to remember to breathe through her nose. Manny quietly groaned and cursed in erotic agony as her throat constricted with her swallowing motion - his abdomen caving in, curling him into himself with every spasm. Â Â
As she slowly raised her head, dragging her lips up his sensitive shaft centimeter by centimeter, her tongue laved under his still leaking tip. Manny strained against his twitching muscles to see what she was doing to him, needing to see how she was loving on him so well.
âMmmm, bella.â he rasped out, as another rolling tremor hit him. âMmmmm-mm-mmmm!" Despite him swallowing to wet his dried-out throat, his growling chuckle was like gravel. "You know youâre killinâ me, yeah?â
Mia let him go, but not without giving him a few more licks for him to hiss and twitch over. Even as he caught his breath, one hand stayed tangled in her curls. Looking down at the naughty tilt of her slanted eyes, Manny wiped the shine of her saliva and his liquid pleasure from her bottom lip with his thumb. He watched transfixed as her tongue followed along the same path, then, holding his hand, she licked his thumb clean before pressing kisses to his palm.
Staring into her deep brown eyes, he caressed her cheek, âDamn, I missed you, mamas.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LET'S CHAT: WHY REMOVE THIS SCENE?
I took this scene out because y'all I had done 2 FAT chapters of smut and this scene was 1.8k before it was even done!! Where this stops was going to be a chapter break, aka there was going to be more to this, but I just stopped. It was going to end up being another whole chapter, possibly two (smh...I know I know...who cares, right?) I'm sorry y'all.
Listen...I solemnly swear to NEVER put a chapter limit on myself EVER again!! So anyway, in keeping with my goal number of chapters, I nixed it figuring I'd use it in a different story of theirs later on (cuz lord knows there is more coming for them) But y'all...Auntie DD thinks you deserve it now!
