Hello Fam! This next series follows Veronica while she's on the rebound. If you've read Ace of Hearts, you may have a special relationship already with Veronica, but it is not necessary to read one series to enjoy the others. I don't know how many parts this one is going to have, but I'll release them as I can, with the understanding that approval through LE can take a while sometimes.
Any Spanish, as usual, or if you're new here, is for flavor, and contextually explained. Google is free.
Throughout this series you can expect a lot of M/F, F/F, F/F/M, and who knows what else. Maybe M/M. Why choose, is what I say. There are themes of promiscuity, adultery, reluctance, humiliation, unrequited love, group sex, terrible terrible jokes and drama, and, of course, filthy pig sex (sans pigs). YMMV.
Everyone featured in my stories are fictional yet consenting adults, 20+.
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Veronica
It's a shitty fucking day and I'm trying to decide if I want to eat pringles, ice cream, a whole jar of Nutella or all of the above.
Who says I can't have it all?
"Treat yo'self," I declare to nobody, stick out my tongue and do my best Cardi B laugh.
Silence in the house. The ghosts don't even appreciate it, malagradecidos that they are.
I sigh. It's March, it's freaking cold, and it feels like one of those never ending winters so everything sucks. The snow is gone but we are still in an endless torment of freezing rain and sleet, and even if I wasn't in break up mode, I'd be tits deep in a seasonal depression, anyway.
My ex and I split on New Years, and I'm still in my feelings. Less about the breakup now, more about it being my brother who he's moving in with this weekend. Into a one bedroom.
Yeah.
Yeah.
I'm watching Scrubs for the 30th time bundled up on the couch with chips, ice cream and beer. It's the episode where Turk sings like Aaron Neville into his recorder on the elevator. It has nothing to do with the plot, but it's the part I live for.
Donald Faison, I also live for. I wonder how his arms taste. I sigh. I lick the ice cream off the spoon and text my best friend.
Me: send nudes
Janessa immediately responds with a picture of her fresh manicure, her nails long, shiny, and painted just a shade off her rich bronze skin color.
Me: well played
Me: it looks really nice
Janessa: ill make sure to send u shower pics ;);)
Me: tease
I smile. Today is her cleaning day. I expect I will see a beautifully polished bathroom picture soon.
Janessa: so r we going out????
Me: no
Janessa: u have to fuck someone
Me: then come over :)
Janessa: i will and u will hate it bc i will groom ur nasty ass and force u out
She's not wrong. I sigh.
Me: as long as u touch my ass
Me: maybe tomorrow
Janessa sends me an eyeroll emoji.
Janessa: tmo we goin period
Whatever.
I'm debating my third depression nap of the day when the doorbell rings. I check my phone to see if I missed something; Mami is in NY for the weekend to visit with my tías, and I have zero plans made.
Did I order something and forget? Amazon? Maybe it's the food fairy.
I shuffle to the door, wearing my blanket like a cloak, and peek out the peephole. It is not the food fairy.
My brother's friend Rakeem stands there, his hands in the pockets of his paint and spackle covered jeans. He's wiping his glasses down with the hem of his paint stained white tee shit that's probably sold in a pack of 6.
Ah, Rakeem. I know why he's here.
He glances up when I open the door, meets my gaze, then drops it.
"Hey," he murmurs, his eyes downcast.
"Hey," I chirp. I turn around and waddle back to the couch. He closes the door behind him, locking it like a good lad, leaves his workboots on the shoe tray, and follows me.
He stands and watches the TV for a minute. "Scrubs? Still on your break up binge, then."
I'm eating another spoonful of ice cream. "You don't know me," I garble around the spoon. I give him a big smile full of coconut ice cream. Coconut's my favorite.
"Nasty," he shakes his head with a smile. He's soft spoken, maybe shy even, but he's funny as hell when you can pull him out of his shell.
I study him, and he looks back at me. His full head of long box braids is neat and loosely tied back, highlighting his high cheekbones. His facial hair, while a little overgrown, is cut close along his jawline in an anchor beard that highlights his full lips, and he's stretched his ears further. Very highlighted. Highlit. Whatever. He looks good.
Like,
really
good.
"You look like shit," I declare. He chuckles.
"You, too," he responds playfully. I nod, he ain't lyin.
"I feel like shit," he sighs. I nod, again. Hard same.
I say as much.
Rakeem flops down on the couch and I prop my feet on his lap. He starts to rub the arches and lets his head drop back to the couch. I close my eyes and sigh, enjoying it.
"It's really done with Audra, huh?" I take a swig of my beer.
He looks down.
"I'm surprised it took you this long to come over," I smirk.
"What do you mean?" his big dark eyes round on me, glittering behind his glasses.
I roll my eyes.
He doesn't say anything, he just looks at me, tired, and squeezes my foot.
We watch TV in silence. After the episode ends, he looks at me like he's trying to figure out what to say. I toss off my blanket and crawl onto his lap to straddle him. He looks up at me and slides his hands up my sides.