#and she was kinda hesitant and didn’t think she’d like it as much

[raeathnos]

.

[inupibaldspot]

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

Check out more of my work here !! <3

[asvterias]

𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

part 1 || clarisse masterlist

clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of nyx)

summary: overwhelmed with her girlfriend's having a near-death experience, clarisse breakdowns in front of y/n.

word count: 1.9k+

author's note: also tysm for 1,680 followers, i appreciate every single one of you! i kinda thought this song related to this fic, lmk what you guys think in the comments! the song lyrics are bold and italics!

song playing — my love mine all mine by mitski

requested by an anonymous! (pairing ONLY!!)

TAGS BELOW:

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moon, a hole of light

through the big top tent high up

here before and after me

“you know what happens if you extort your powers too much.” she hastily reminded you. from her tone, you knew that she hesitated to remind you of that incident, and it was shaky leaving from her mouth.

“that was one time.” you sighed heavily.

by now, your existing abilities become stronger as you grow older. you managed to control your current powers, and clarisse encouraged you to discover your hidden powers.

shining down on me

moon, tell me if i could

however it’s not encouraged to extort your powers to full extent, liable enough to render you unconscious for weeks, not even days. as a result of your persistent stubbornness, unfortunately, it happened to you and clarisse was an emotional wreck without your comforting presence beside her.

she became more easily irritated and annoyed by anyone who even dared to look her way, almost threatening to kick their ass, surprisingly she’d just rough them up a bit, and stormed off afterward. spending hours at the sparring center, clarisse released all of her anger onto the sparring dummies, using her trust-worthy spear and being completely ruthless with it, rage consuming both her stability and mentality. everyone stayed out of clarisse’s way for their own safety.

all those times you kept her grounded felt like a big waste to her right now. she felt loved, and truly loved by someone blessed to cherish her until your last breath gave out. all of a sudden, you were harshly ripped away from her, without any type of warning, permanently leaving an invisible scar on her heart.

despite being stuck in a temporarily induced coma, clarisse still had a guilty conscience of unawareness, possibly having a chance to rescue you and prevent this from occurring. in other words, she wished that you didn’t intentionally overwork your powers to the core, but you did, and now you’re currently suffering the consequences of it.

send up my heart to you?

so, when i die, which i must do

for the two weeks, you were unconscious, clarisse visited you, kept quiet most of the time, muttered small incoherent words, barely even sentences. she held your hands tightly, they were lukewarm, temporarily not providing the warmth they usually do. she missed everything about you, your presence, your touch, and your love.

and when she’s staring at your face, a small smile litters her face, reminiscing on your wholesome shared memories. sadly, all of the radiation that your face once held was drained and a firm line took its place.

despite the large pit of despair in her stomach, clarisse felt you slipping away from reality with every passing day. your girlfriend was persistent, knowing that you can handle yourself, and often proud of your capability in those sorts of skills.

she couldn’t fathom what it was even like for you to endure the 2-week coma, forced into a dream-like state, hearing and sensing everything going on around you but unable to respond. it must have been torture for you, stuck with your thoughts endlessly on repeat, with no interruption at all. just you and your thoughts there all alone. nothing but you and your thoughts.

she prayed that you would somehow non-verbally assure her, confirming your well-being, not like that would have made a difference regardless, but still, your reassuring words would’ve lessened her worries, even if it was for such a short amount of time.

but the ares girl remained strong, at least for the both of you. clarisse mentally promised for her own sake, desperately clutching onto the small yet meaningful words of encouragement.

could it shine down here with you?

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

i love mine, mine, mine

with a devastated sigh, she’d depart with a forehead kiss before heading to her cabin for some rest, sometimes she’d forget to eat and one of her siblings had to remind her. at this point, it was a common routine for clarisse; wake up, teleport to visit you, complete her daily tasks, and train. and when she’s finished her task of the day, best believe that she’s with you, nursing you back to consciousness.

“yeah, and we both know how that ended!”

“clarisse…”

“no, please let me finish.” she shushed you with a shake of her head, “and i hope it doesn’t happen again, it doesn’t need to happen again!” clarisse whisper-yelled at you, “i almost lost you, and i refused to experience that wretched feeling again. you were unconscious for almost two weeks and we weren’t even in the same place. your mom teleported me to you almost every day since you were in that coma. i refuse to experience that again because i love you and seeing you there made me feel useless for once in my life.” her tone became shaky yet she proceeded on, wanting you to understand, needing you to understand what it was like for her, witnessing you in that comatose state. “i couldn’t stand the thought of you dying, of you leaving me here all alone. you only truly understand me, you love me despite all of my flaws, rather accepting them than ignoring them…nobody else but you…i didn’t think i could love anyone as much as i love you. and that terrified me before but now it doesn’t anymore, knowing you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. sometimes i wonder if i’m ever worth loving…” a sob escapes her, continued by many heartbreaking sobs. that gut-wrenching feeling in your heart returned, growing larger when clarisse attempted to restrict any more sobs, terribly failing, allowing her emotions to run wild for once.

it’ll probably be the only time she can freely express her emotions without feeling judged within your presence. this was one of the many reasons why clarisse fell in love with you, your compassionate soul, a trait she strongly lacked but adored from you.

she loved that you made her feel comfortable, enough to express her emotions without having to look over her shoulder.

nothing in the world belongs to me

but my love mine, all mine, all mine

your girlfriend didn’t realize the tears freely falling down her face until you wiped the tears away from her eyes. clarisse seems betrayed by her own emotions once she realizes that she’s crying, expressing her vulnerability towards you. the curly-haired girl began to stammer out some words, attempting to defend herself but you kissed her temple and pulled her in for a hug. going off on instinct, she buried her head into your neck, harboring her labored breaths as she tightened her grip on you as if she was too scared to let go and lose you all over again.

“never again…never again…” clarisse mutters, repeating it like a mantra. “i don’t wanna lose you ever again…”

catching on to her rapid muttering, you cupped her face, steadying to your face level.

“i won’t leave you again, i promise babe,” you reassure her. your eyes connect easily, gazing into her glossy eyes.

clarisse looks up at you, a swirl of emotions flowing across her eyes. you pout at your girlfriend, reaching out a hand to gently touch her face, watching her melt by the simple touch.

her glistening eyes made you swoon at her gentleness and vulnerability, “you promise?” her voice was low, similar to a whimper of pain.

my baby, here on earth

showed me what my heart was worth

“i promise,” you clarify, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “do you wanna stay here for a while, with just me?”

hiding her face back into your shirt, she nodded against the fabric, tightening her grip on you whenever you slightly shuffled in her embrace. your touch was required for her peace, and clarisse made sure that you weren’t escaping from her grasp. too much time was wasted, and clarisse needed to make up for lost time.

at times, clarisse felt extremely weak, exhausted, and defenseless which according to her father, any sign of vulnerability is also perceived as useless in his eyes. ares engraved that motto within his daughter, and you hated that it stuck with her that much! wanting to please her dad, her personality changed over time, and the lingering thought of displaying an ounce of vulnerability vanished. no surprise that you rekindled that thought during your relationship when she started opening up to you.

every time clarisse received surprise visits from her dad, you were always there, listening about him degrading her great abilities because of her gender. all those nights of her crying on your shoulder, wondering why she couldn’t be good enough for her father. from that moment, your hatred for your girlfriend’s father fueled with each passing day.

you taught her that being vulnerable wasn’t weak and that it was actually strong. to be honest, clarisse was skeptical because her girlfriend said the opposite of what she learned from her father. eventually, she got used to the idea, accepting only being vulnerable around you. that was good enough for her so it was good enough for you.

so, when it comes to be my turn

could you shine it down here for her?

clarisse laid on top of you, her head snuggled softly against your breasts with her arms around your waist. one of your hands held onto her head, scratching on her head softly as the other drew imaginary stars on her lower back.

“my beautiful beautiful, brave girl…” you cooed as you heard tiny sniffles from her, “you certainly are worth loving and you’re my entire world.

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

i love mine, mine, mine

“am i?” her lower lip trembles as she innocently stares up at you.

“you are my entire world,” you gently kiss her forehead as she places her head down onto your chest.

“you’re my whole world too,” she murmurs against your chest, either it was her sweet tone or that you were naturally ticklish which made you laugh wholeheartedly. clarisse’s face lights up, feeling the rumble from your chest as a smile erupts on her lips.

“nothing in the world belongs to me...” you sing softly into her ears, massaging her head, soothing her into a peaceful sleep alongside your peaceful embrace. “but my love mine, all mine...”

you lullabied her to sleep with your gentle singing, finally feeling at ease when you heard the light snores, smiling fondly at her. gods, clarisse was adorable. too adorable to disrupt her out of her sleep, resting comfortably on you, partially skin-to-skin.

“good night, my love.” you kissed her forehead, glimpsing at her small smile from the loving touch. turning off the lamp before refocusing onto clarisse, wrapping your arms around her waist and her head gently nuzzling into your neck, requiring very much close contact. soon enough, you drifted into sleep just as your beloved girlfriend did a few minutes ago, both content in each other’s arms, wishing to remain like that forever.

nothing in the world is mine for free

but my love mine, all mine, all mine…

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost or translate onto any other platforms without my permission.

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - Ch. 16: The Fool

Art: @mmm-asbestos​ ☆ First 2 chapters ☆ Prev. (Ch. 15)  ☆ AO3

Ch. 16 - The Fool

“Did you have an errand in town or something?” Amy sensed his anxiety.

In minutes, the pair were miles away. They quickly found themselves in town, in the center of a populated shopping area. Some passerby who recognized Sonic began rubbernecking as they milled about. 

He shifted his vision around apprehensively as he allowed Amy to step down from his arms. 

“Do you think he’s tailing us? Don’t think it’s the best idea to bring him right back to your place, considering…”

“I don’t think Eggman has anything fast enough to keep up with you” she started. “Oh- well, not anymore. Besides, you’re hungry, remember?” Amy joked. They stood near a selection of restaurants and cafes.

“Oh- yeah!” Sonic exhaled. “We should give Tails a call, though-”

“Let’s not,” Amy blurted out. It wasn’t exactly how she’d planned it, but this was just the opportunity she needed to be alone with Sonic.

“Huh? Why?” 

“I didn’t bring my communicator,” she tried to sound nonchalant.

“I’ll just run over there-”

Amy dashed past him to a glass storefront, gasping theatrically. “I’ve been wanting to check out this new cafe!”

“Well I was thinking to grab Tails and-”

“Let’s sit down inside!” Amy insisted, pushing her way through the front doors.

Not in an arguing mood, Sonic followed inside begrudgingly. 

A hostess escorted them to a small table by a window. It overlooked a fountain in the square. It was past lunchtime, but a few other pairs lingered in neighboring tables; couples gazing dreamily at each other or sharing desserts. Sonic shifted his own eyes to the window. He fidgeted in his chair.

“So,” Amy sighed, “that was… interesting.”

“No kidding.” He didn’t turn to her.

“He… knows about Metal,” she continued.

Sonic spun back to face her gravely.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way he’s listening to us here. Relax!”

“Guess you’re right.” He turned bleakly back to the window. “What do we do?”

Amy was unsure herself. “Maybe… Going to this grand opening thing won’t be so bad?”

“Come on, Ames, that’s an obvious trap.” Sonic leaned an elbow onto the table and turned to her. “And what about your roommate? Eggman kinda owns him.”

“Metal will make the right choice,” she waved off his question.

He looked skeptical. “Why are you so confident about that?”

“‘Cause,” she trailed off, unclear of her own reasoning. “Well, he barely even remembers right now. I’m not worried about him.”

“Eggman wants him back.” Sonic returned with a concerned frown. “He can’t live with you forever.”

“I know,” Amy replied sheepishly. There hadn’t been much thought put into what exactly was going to happen to Metal, or when. Though she understood Metal couldn’t hang around much longer if she got involved with Sonic. 

“What do you think he wants him for?”

“To… build?” Amy shrugged. “It seems like Eggman’s only priority right now.”

The pair each looked somberly to the window until they caught each other’s eyes in the reflections. Amy  pouted, uncertain of what else to say about the situation. Sonic grinned at his friend gingerly and met her face to face.

“We always figure it out,” he said as confidently as he could manage. “We’re a great team, after all.”

The misgiving situation weighed on Sonic, his usual direct approach to problems ineffective in all the uncertainty. But he was nothing if not a pacesetter for his team. It didn’t do them any good for him to be gloomy.

“Yeah,” Amy smiled with a similar hesitance.

A waiter interrupted them with his introduction. The short minutes they spent ordering lavish sounding drinks and pastries calming Amy and Sonic. By the time the waiter retracted the menus, the two had relaxed in their chairs. They smiled more comfortably now, no less uncertain but confident they could tackle the situation as a team. 

“If Metal’s really on our side, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to send the guy back his bot,” Sonic commented between bites of a croissant.

“If he wants to go back.” Amy took a sip from her tea, lifting her eyes to him over the rim, hesitant about what he’d think of the remark.

“Well if you want him on the team,” Sonic shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not about what I want…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sonic smiled at her knowingly. “Metal can do what he wants. I won’t give him a hard time- if he really isn’t up to something with Eggman.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll talk to him.” Amy was eager to get off the subject. 

“So… what’d you think of the food?”

“Pretty good, I guess.” Sonic took a sip from a tall glass of some kind of local handcrafted soda the waiter had offered as an alternative to tea and coffee. It was the only drink that sounded mildly good to him. “Little fancy, though.”

“Mhm…” 

She reached into her pocket for the all-important card she’d pulled that morning and told herself it was time to broach the subject. Her cheeks felt warm.

“I like it,” she continued, “It’s kinda- I don’t know- romantic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess you could say that.” He took an uncomfortable look around the room, sucking up his drink impetuously. 

Amy brought her cup back to her lips apprehensively. “It’s a cute place for a date. Maybe- maybe we can come back for one sometime?”

A fizzy gulp caused Sonic to cough and clear his throat. Amy blinked at him from behind her teacup, hiding her flushed face, panicking internally.

“I-” he started, pausing to clear his throat a second time. He looked away from her in embarrassment. “I mean, we’re not, uh, dating, though.” A flight response kicked in and he glanced toward the front door.

“But… We could be.” Her words were a demure squeak. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m gonna be heading back to Tails’, I think-”

“Sonic.” Amy set down the cup. She swallowed. “Can we try?”

Sonic steadied himself with a deep breath. It felt wrong to continue dodging the matter. He met her pleading face with a poignant seriousness he didn’t often display.

“Amy, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he said plainly.

Expecting some hesitancy on his part, she pushed on. “Aw, but we’d be so good together! You even said we make such a great team!”

“We do, but-”

“And we’ve known each other for so long! Think of all that history! We’ve always been there for each other and stayed friends even when I was, well, a little obsessed- But you stuck around and that meant so much to me! And-”

“Stop.” Sonic clanked his glass on the table between them. “All this romantic stuff putting everything at stake- I can’t do it, Amy. Much less with you.”

The response left her taken aback, even more than she could have predicted. “So… it’s a problem because it’s me?”

“Sort-of- I-”

She sat upright, loudly clanking her teacup on the table. “And it’s not just because you don’t like me?” Amy’s eyes began to sting as tears threatened to well up. 

Sensing an outburst, Sonic leaned away nervously. Being on the receiving end of Amy’s anger was never an enviable position to be in. “Uh…”

“Well? What’s so wrong with dating me? Are you still mad about how immature I was back when we met or something?”

“No! Listen, Amy, I don’t like you that way,” he searched for the right words, frantically and unsuccessfully. “And even if I did, I just don’t think I could ever be in that kind of relationship with you. You’re-”

“I’m what?” Angry tears escaped the moment she stood up abruptly. Her chair screeched against the floor loudly, attracting the attention of the diners around them. “I’m not good enough for you somehow?” 

“Amy, that’s not fair,” he scolded. “You know that’s not what I was about to say!”

“What’s not fair is that you always reject me and never tell me why.” She threw her napkin against the table to free her hands, digging through her pocket aggressively. “But I get it now.”

“Amy, come on, please-” Sonic lowered his head in embarrassment as whispers circulated around them. He lowered his voice.

“Please what? Please stop being so loud and obnoxious? Stop being a pest? Stop,” a sob gave her pause, anger melting into heartbreak. “Stop being an annoying little rascal around you?”

The other patrons were staring daggers at them. Sonic melted further into his seat. “This is why I didn’t want to go out,” he muttered. “I was trying to avoid this-”

“Seriously? Ugh!” Amy scoffed, indignant and deeply frustrated. In that moment, that embarrassingly public moment, the only sensible explanation for his rejection were the parts she hated about herself. Her angry outbursts, the insufferable clinginess. Tears continued their path down her cheeks as she dug through her pockets again. Finding the bills she was after, Amy tossed a fistfull onto the table. 

The back of her gloves became smudged with makeup as Amy fiercely wiped at her eyes and cheeks. At least she could manage not to sob her way out. At least she wouldn’t add pathetic to the list of her flaws. “I’m leaving!”

“Amy, wait!” Sonic shot up from his seat. “I didn’t mean that-”

“Don’t follow me!”she cried, asserting herself past the hostess and front door. She felt everyone’s eyes on her back, right until the door shut loudly behind her.

Once she was out of sight, all those eyes briefly turned back to Sonic. The other guests began muttering to each other or turning away with secondhand embarrassment. 

More than the outburst itself, Sonic immediately felt self-conscious about his response to Amy’s distress, letting all those nosy strangers get in the way.

He sighed at the crumpled notes on the table, letting the public shame wash over him. Amid the wadded bills, he spotted a familiar symbol adorning the back of a creased card. Recognizing it as part of Amy’s deck, Sonic picked it from clutter. 

Flipping it on its face, he grimaced at the irony. 

“The fool, huh? Man…”

In the square, Amy stomped through walkways and around pedestrians. Her cloudy sights were set on the nearby bus stop. The last thing she wanted to do was sob on public transportation, but what choice did she have?

She planted her hunched form on the bus stop’s only bench. A man in a pressed suit stood nearby and ogled for a few moments, turning and stepping away only after being met by a snapping, fiery glare from the sad-looking girl. 

“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled, bowing her head back down onto her palms.

For however much she tried, there was no holding back the floodgates. She sat breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. But her eyes spilled over with tears, leaking between her fingers and onto her lap. Her face was red hot. She didn’t even want to think about how she looked. 

Just as she’d resolved to breathe through her woes until she got home, Amy caught a familiar whirring growing closer overhead.

Amy sat up, quickly wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Sitting on her hands to hide her dirty gloves, she spotted him. 

“Metal,” she sniffled, “what are you doing in town?”

Metal floated toward the bench, touching down just next to her. 

She spun away from him, trying desperately to tidy herself up. She was hardly excited to explain her current state.

Sensing something was off, Metal leaned in for a closer look at her.

“Um… a- a-choo!” Amy forced a sneeze. “Sorry, I have some allergies,” she lied. “All the pollen this time of year…”

That was strange to Metal, being that Amy always seemed to have her nose in some kind of spring bouquet. He was about to press further when she sneezed again.

“I don’t have any tissues with me,” Amy blubbered. “It’s sorta embarrassing…” That much was true.

Rather than question it, Metal scanned their surroundings for a solution. He spotted the man who’d been staring at Amy moments earlier once again gawking, this time at both of them. Metal hardly noticed the man’s gaze, however, more preoccupied with the neatly folded pocket square adorning the front of his jacket. He started toward the man.

Realizing the danger, the guy backed away, holding up his palms in surrender. He grinned awkwardly at the menacing robot approaching him to cut the tension.

It didn’t stop Metal. He pointed at the man’s chest, indicating the blazer’s front pocket. He then held up his palm in command.

The man looked around frantically for the possibility that he could be approaching someone else, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Not understanding Metal’s intentions, the man rustled through his pockets in a panic. 

As Metal closed in on him, the man whipped out his wallet, shakily holding it out and turning his face away from the frightening sight.

Believing himself to be in the middle of a mugging, the man finally pleaded meekly, something about taking the wallet. Metal ignored him and his outstretched hand and instead reached forward towards the cowering man’s chest. The man shut his eyes.

Metal snatched the pocket square out of the man’s jacket pocket and promptly forgot about his existence as he rotated back around to Amy. 

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, holding the crisply folded handkerchief in front of her. She raised a brow, confused at the gesture.

 She turned to him. “Where did you get that?”

As Amy took hold of the pocket square, she caught sight of the man cowering nearby. She gasped in realization.

“Is this his?!”

The man’s eyes snapped open, only just understanding what had occurred. He patted at his chest, realizing he’d been robbed of a mere square of fabric. 

“Sir!” 

Amy shot up, intending to return the stolen accessory, but the man quickly turned and ran off with a squeal as he noticed he was being approached once again.

“Sir! Oh, come on…”

Amy turned her attention back to her friend, shocked at what had just occurred.

“Metal! You can’t just take some random creep’s handkerchief!”

Metal stared at her blankly. He analyzed her flushed cheeks and watery eyes, ignoring her protests. Her gloves were stained front and back with makeup. Was she just crying?

Perturbed, Amy turned away, one again feigning a sneeze. She brought the handkerchief up to her face out of habit. “Well, I guess he’s not gonna be coming back, so…”

Unhappy with the circumstances, Amy wiped away her tears in resignation. The whole scene at least distracted her from her woes- and it was better than blubbering into her damp gloves. She folded the square away into her pocket and looked to Metal.

“Thanks for the tissue, but please promise you won’t go around snatching people’s things,” she managed calmly, 

Metal continued to study her expression. He concluded that she was decidedly composed and he could’ve been mistaken about her emotional state. But now there were these supposed allergies to worry about-

“Metal? Hello?” Amy waved a hand in front of him, vexed by the lack of response. “Are you listening?”

He nodded instinctively. It wasn’t what he was focused on.

“Anyway,” Amy sighed. “Did you have an errand or something?”

Metal shook his head and gestured to her with an open palm, clad in his new gloves.

The gesture confused her for a moment, but quickly understood what he had to say. “Oh… did you come just to get me?” 

He nodded.

Amy tilted her head with some uncertainty. “How did you know I was here…?”

There was no simple way to explain it to her. He didn’t understand it himself, in fact. Just a few minutes prior, he felt an urgent need to come to this precise spot to find her. It was as if he’d received a signal with a command. So, he rushed over, flying faster than he had for as long as he could recall. It felt almost out of his control, his body propelling him to meet her here. An unexplainable urge. A hunch, he’d heard such a feeling called.

Not knowing any other way to answer, he performed his characteristic shrug and reached closer toward her with his still outstretched hand. 

Amy couldn’t help but giggle. His cryptic and limited responses were charming, in a way. 

“Well, thanks for picking me up.” She took his hand. It beated taking the bus.

They took off in what was becoming a typical way for Amy and Metal to travel together. It was even more comfortable now that his pointy claws were under wraps. It felt like floating to Amy, who didn’t even have time to recall her sorrow; they arrived at her front door in no time.

“By the way, Metal, I wanna talk to you about today,” she said as he allowed her down. She reached for her front door, continuing. “I gotta call Tails, too. We should all chat about-”

The door eased open. Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. 

There must not have been a mug, tumbler, or bowl that wasn’t filled with spring blooms. Lilies sprouted out of drinking glasses and a bushel of peonies practically spilled out of her biggest sauce pot. The bushiest of hyacinth stems poked out of the top of an empty wine bottle. Mason jars sat on every inch of her counter filled with daisies, daffodils, and primroses. Every counter, every chair- every conceivable surface of her home was littered with flowers. Unprecedented and breathtaking.

She stood at the door, speechless. Amy forgot all about the conversation she was about to propose, along with her rejection, the stressful mission, and her “allergies.” 

Metal stood back, observing; apprehensive. She’d just had a reaction, and here was every type of flower he could find within a 100-mile radius diffusing pollen into her home. He reached out, intending to hold her back.

But it didn’t stop her. Amy practically sprinted toward the living space, rustling through every vessel, burying her face in as many bunches as she could get her hands on. She gasped and sputtered as she went. 

Radiating joy, she looked back to Metal. “You got all these? For me?” 

Metal nodded at her tensely from the doorway.

Amy erupted with laughter. “It’s amazing!”

Though muddled by it, her positive response put Metal at ease as he followed her inside.

“Thank you!” She twirled around, taking stock of all the bouquets. “Where did you find so many? Look at these peonies, and those hyacinths, and the daffodils, and- and-” 

Her eyes landed on the small bunch of assorted wildflowers she’d received from Sonic that morning. 

“-and…” 

She trailed off, stroking a little blue cornflower from the motley assortment. They sat next to her one other proper vase, stuffed neatly with pink tulips.

Bittersweet tears flooded her eyes. A conflicted sob escaped her as they flowed down into her smile.

Amy’s emotions had overwhelmed her by the time Metal reached her across the room. He took a cautious step back when he realized her cheeks were already soaked.

For however conflicted she felt about the day’s events, Amy was overjoyed at the thoughtful gesture. There was nothing to do but throw her arms around Metal with all the affection she possessed. 

Not anticipating tears, Metal hesitated for a moment. But she clutched and squeezed him with an intensity which he thought could practically crush him. He was as impressed with her strength as he was concerned for her.

Metal wrapped an arm around her slowly. Carefully, he reached a finger to her cheek, catching a tear as it spilled from her eye. 

She sniffled, breathing deeply. “Oh, me? Don’t worry,” Amy turned her damp eyes up to him, still beaming. She laughed. “It’s just allergies!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me in may: hehe I will have so much time to myself this summer i will be able to write sooo much

Me in june: (takes the hardest class I've ever done in my entire life)

Me in july: (builds an entire kitchen)

Me in aug: (gets married)

Me in sep: (picks up twice as many responsibilities at work because the assistant quit)

but hey I got married and we later went to LA to see Sonic Symphony! So it's been a good summer/autumn so far. Other than you know. working 6 days a week. eugh

[maximotts]

♱ 𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖒 ♱

♱ 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑: priest's daughter!Wanda Maximoff

I missed writing her and since it's been a year since @furys-eyepatch dropped this wonderful idea in my ask box, it felt right to start October off with one of my favorite squishies!

confessions of wanda maximoff AU. kinktober masterlist. 18+ only, minors dni. you don't need to add community labels, I've put adequate warnings below. wc: 3.9k. cw: innocent!Wanda/constantly horny!r. sex in a church. fingering. fucking from behind. strap-on use. begging. semi-public sex (no one is around). everything you shouldn't be doing in a place of worship. r thinks saying vulgar things to wanda and seeing her blush is peak entertainment.

“This is kinda the last place I want to be on Halloween, Wands..”

Wanda looked over her shoulder for the sole purpose of giving you an eye roll before continuing to tug you along through the back of the church. “I’m only picking up something for my dad, it’ll just take a second. I did say you could wait outside!”

“And hang around out there by myself? No way, it’s almost dark and there’s a cemetery!” You’d been sidetracked on the way to Natasha’s party, a texted errand from Wanda’s dad bringing you to his office in search of the large bags of candy he forgot to bring home with him. You didn’t mind honestly, the older man was always so kind it was hard to resist any of his requests— much like his daughter, the girl currently standing in front of you grinning.

She cooed at you in the confines of her father’s office, rubbing your cheeks while you swat at her hands. “Aww, are you afraid of ghosts? How cute..”

“Stop it, Wanda!” You scoffed, brushing her off and crossing your arms. So what if you were a little superstitious, who wasn’t? And you certainly didn’t need to let Wanda know; she’d hold it over you like she’d won the lottery. “Just hurry up so we can get out of here…”

Wanda kissed you quickly, soft and placating; an apology for teasing. She always saw you as someone fearless, it was nice to see a concept as harmless as ghosts rattle you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything get us. If it makes you feel better, I’ve never seen anything creepy and Pietro and I used to spend tons of time here when we were kids.” 

Trailing off as she went about searching, you leant back against the wall with a pout, opting to watch Wanda while you waited. She had yet to change into her costume, insisting it be strictly for the party, but part of you theorized it was just to keep her outfit from her dad. Instead, her bunny costume lay folded up in the backseat of your car and her dress remained on, teasing you a little more each time she bent over. 

With the cooler weather, Wanda added tights to her wardrobe rotation, sheer black nylon hugging every curve from her ankles to her hips. You didn’t know what it was, but something about them left you drooling whenever you thought about the extra layer on your girlfriend for too long. In the past few weeks, you found yourself running your hands over her legs whenever she was close enough, often ending up playfully chided when you eventually grew too grabby during your shared lectures. But now, alone together with Wanda bent so far over the large wooden desk that you could catch just the barest hint of her underwear, you found it terribly hard to control your urge to grab her.

Hesitation gave Wanda enough time to shoot upright, victorious with heavy plastic bags in her tight grasp, “Candy acquired!” 

She made her way back over to you by the door, pressing her lips to the corner of your mouth as she passed, “Now let's get out of here before some big bad ghostie bothers you.” 

“I don’t think any ghosts want to be anywhere near us right now…” Try as you might, you couldn’t help yourself, eyes glued to Wanda’s backside as she led you back through the dark corridors behind the sanctuary. These weren’t proper thoughts right now, especially here, but it was Halloween… what better day to do something a little sacreligious.

“And why is that-” The end of her sentence was punctuated with a surprised oof, the shock of being shoved sideways into the wall cutting her short. Strong hands gripped her hips, balling the bottom half of her dress in your fists as you buried your nose into her long, dark hair. Instinct begged her to let the moan caught in her throat loose, but someone had to be level-headed here… or at least try to be. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I could ask you the same question, wearing this dress with no shorts and showing off.” You palmed her ass while she wiggled, sandwiched helplessly between you and the carved wood. Maybe you’d hoped that a simple bit of groping would satisfy whatever just took over, but it’d been wishful thinking; the more you touched, the more you wanted. “Did you know every time you bend over I can see your underwear? It’s not very nice to tease like that.”

“I-I didn’t know…” Wanda’s head was spinning, your sudden turn of mood rendering her flustered. Having never thought of herself in much of a sexual way, today’s lack of shorts was more of convenience rather than to tease. No matter how far she got from being a virgin, the intricacies of attraction and desire remained partially lost to her, always forgetting not only were you insatiable at times, but you wanted her. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” 

“No need to apologize, Wands, I’m not mad.” The last thing you wanted was to embed shame to how your girlfriend decided to dress; if anything, the uncharacteristic choice made the surprise more enticing. 

She shivered as you nibbled the shell of her ear, trembling more every second your hands continued roaming, exploring, groping her so shamelessly. “But you can make it up to me by letting me touch you.”

“We’re in a church…” Even so, it was just the two of you in the building, a fact confirmed by one quick glance out into the main room through one of the wall’s cutouts. All alone in the quiet, sacred space. Wanda knew she should protest harder, the mere idea should’ve been off putting, but it wasn’t. Nor was it the first time this scenario crossed her mind.

You’d be lying if you said the setting didn’t turn you on that much more and if Wanda’s shudder as you palmed over her covered sex was any indication, she wasn’t completely put off. Curious fingers poked and prodded, pressing against her in earnest until Wanda was gasping. “Why not? No one would know and it’d be fun.” 

You could practically hear the cogs in Wanda’s brain turning, working overdrive to come up with some answer where she could do the ‘right’ thing and keep those all too good sensations flowing from between her legs. “Maybe in the car?”

She’d expected the proposition to sound more convincing than it was, your contemplative hum against the nape of her neck showing Wanda she probably hadn’t swayed you either. Enticing as the car might’ve been in the past, it wasn’t what she yearned for right now. If you led her out, she’d follow and most definitely enjoy herself, but she’d think about this and what it could’ve been until this very rare opportunity presented itself again, if ever.

“Oh, but I want you right here, sweetheart. What if someone drives by and sees you outside? You know I like to keep you all to myself.” Wanda didn’t stop the hand sliding past the top of her stockings, fingers stretching the thin fabric in search of her panties— the second your fingertips grazed the embroidered cotton you groaned. 

Occasionally you caught her wearing the days of the week underwear she’d splurged on from some online boutique shop, something she bought with the mindset that no one would ever see them, but oh how wrong she was. Initially embarrassed for you to catch her wearing them, she was so relieved when you’d written it off as just another precious thing to love about her. 

“How are you always so pretty, babygirl? Makes it so hard to keep my hands off you,” Two inches further down, you discovered the beginnings of a wet spot, Wanda’s body giving her away despite her meekly suggested location change. “Especially when you get wet so easily. It’s my job to take care of that, being a good girlfriend and all.”

“I can’t help it,” she breathed out, trying to keep her breathing even for as long as possible. It was true, Wanda often found her thighs pressed together after a few touches or too long of a kiss; a fact she only recently discovered upon dating you. 

“I know, poor thing, let me fix it.” With your free hand holding the front of her dress, fingers splayed over her stomach, you held your girlfriend still as you moved the last barrier aside, sliding through her already slick folds as shamelessly as you would if you were in the privacy of your apartment back at home, laser focused on watching the girl in your arms go limp. 

The physical embodiment of a devil on her shoulder as you nudged her sweater out of the way, Wanda couldn’t possibly deny either of you further; the longer you waited, the higher the chance that someone else would wander in. Her cheeks burned red hot, unable to tell how much was from being manhandled mere feet behind the altar or the humiliation of how badly she wanted you to continue. “Please…”

“Please what, Wanda? Take you to the car?” Circling her clit almost did her in, knees buckling, hall echoing with the sound of the bags falling from Wanda’s hand to the floor. You let up and she whined pitifully, hips bucking in search for more of the fleeting pleasure. But if you were doing this, you needed your favorite part: her confirmation. “Use your words and I’ll give you whatever you want, baby.”

“Take me, right here…” She was nearly dizzy with need as she spoke, but the struggle was so worth it once your fingers began working her purposely now, promptly rewarding her acceptance. It was all too easy to forget any lingering worries and focus on her rapidly building orgasm, head and hands falling forward to brace herself as you slid two fingers into her. “Oh god, yes-”

You tutted mockingly, grinning into the crook of her sweet-smelling neck. “Now you know that’s not proper language for where we are. Mind your manners.” 

It was terribly hypocritical considering how lewdly you were stretching her open on your digits, letting her drip down your palm. You could pretty much count on her making a mess, but no matter how familiar of a sensation, it was all you could do not to fall to your knees and see for yourself; Wanda was the only person you’d ever felt so inclined to worship. “You feel so good on my fingers, sweet thing. I wish you could feel how tight you’re squeezing them.”

The poor thing did her best to keep up, but you were so fast, so determined to watch her walls come down in the place she should be doing the exact opposite… The most she could do was moan out her pleasure, heavenly music to your ears. “Can I cum? I’m so close-!”

“Go on, I want to feel you.” Wanda finished with a cry, muffled into her arm, still too afraid to be loud no matter how alone you might be. She shivered and shook, thighs trapping your hand in place as she rode out her orgasm. Even from behind Wanda was a sight, long hair falling over her shoulders as she tossed, hands clamoring for purchase anywhere on the wall she’d never look at the same way again. 

Satisfied with your work, thought she’d be done and more than ready to get out of here, but to your surprise, her hand grabbed your wrist before you could pull out. “What’s wrong, Wanda?”

“Nothing, it’s just..” Wanda couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but it’d be a terrible missed opportunity if she didn’t ask. Rubbing her backside against your front confirmed what she’d felt for a few seconds before, the telltale bulge in your pants providing Wanda the perfect setup to make one of her deepest fantasies a reality. She’d gone this far; what was a little more for the whole way. That’s what she kept repeating to validate this next want. “Do you think we could maybe, um..”

“Maybe what?” Her actions only gave you an inkling into what Wanda was hinting at, but surely she couldn’t be thinking what you thought she was. 

When it came to risky scenarios, you were constantly on the propositioning end, finding creative ways to present your new ideas for Wanda’s approval. What you’d just gotten away with was a giant push of luck, never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine she’d ask for it. “The rules are you use your words. You have to say it.”

Of course you wouldn’t let her off easy, not when both of you were on the precipice of doing something so scandalous. She appreciated how dedicated you were to her enthusiastic consent, but if she thought about what she was asking too hard, she feared she might fizzle into nothingness. “I was thinking if you were up for it, we might go again?”

“Yeah? With my fingers?” You goaded her with a slow curl of your long digits, guiding her back until you could easily grind your clothed strap on against her, the sharpest squeak bubbling from Wanda’s chest. As you moved this time, you were slow, too slow, knowing as nice as it was, it wasn’t what she needed. Not when she remembered how mouthwateringly full she was a few days ago when you’d last had her in your lap.

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, mousy and bashful. Her one advantage was facing away from you, fully aware she’d never have the courage to speak up that way unless you forced it out of her. “I meant with your strap…”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, as if someone else said them; anyone but the person she knew herself to be. But you heard them in her sweet, sheepish voice and something feral inside you snapped. You tore away from her unceremoniously, only for a second, just long enough to bend her a little farther, slapping Wanda’s ass once. 

“Fuck, I wish I could keep you here all night, just to see what else I can get a naughty girl like you to tell me what they’ve been dreaming up.” Ignoring her shout, you ripped a hole in her stockings, tearing wide enough that you could play with her from behind, shallowly dipping your fingertips into the hole you’d so cruelly left empty. 

“You’re all I want,” Neck straining over her shoulder to catch glimpses of you undoing your pants, Wanda’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the thick dildo set on your hips, only fluttering closed as you nestled the toy between her thighs, sliding it back and forth in an effort to wet it for Wanda’s comfort. Eager as you were, this one was bigger than she’d taken before and you’d never forgive yourself if you caused her any pain. “Hurry up before someone comes in..”

“Look at you, so impatient,” The tip teased Wanda awfully, drawing low moaned out pleas that were much too pretty to deprive yourself of so quickly. It wasn’t long until her wetness coated your strap, slick and ready for her as soon as you were ready to deliver. “Does my sweet girl want me to fill her up with my cock? Would that make you happy?”

“Mhm..so happy..” Something about being fucked left Wanda’s brain so.. empty, always coaxing her into a blissful relaxation. She supposed it had something to do with not only touch, but your words, sneakily dumbing her down until her only thoughts rested on you and when you’d give her what she waited for. 

Being taken in church was an idea she only allowed to appear in her deepest dreams, shaming herself afterwards for even daring to create such a thought. If anyone was going to give it to her now, it had to be you and to her credit, you’d started this. But logistics were way too much for Wanda to think about presently and, in a mission to make this impromptu sex as good for her as it already was for you, clearing her of any fears was your highest priority. “All I want to do is make you happy, Wanda.”

She knew that was true from the very first time you’d told her, those words only ever given with the most sincere honesty. Combined with the gentle patterns you drew over the sensitive skin of her lower tummy, Wanda let herself be lulled, trusting you to take care of her in the vulnerable state she so loved to fall into. 

“Spread your legs for me a little, just like that…” Everyone would be wondering where you were soon, Wanda’s father waiting on his Halloween candy delivery and Natasha for the drinks she asked you to get, but for this, for her? You’d say screw it all without hesitation to take your time and make this happen however she pictured. “Now beg. Confess to me, little church mouse.”

As you pushed the tip in and stopped, Wanda erupted into a fit of pitiful noises, fighting against your hold to feel that ever lusted after stretch, but you were stronger than her and wouldn’t budge. Being made to beg was equal parts hot and degrading; unfortunately you’d come to love to hear it, discovered it turned her on to do it, and now demanded it whenever the chance presented itself. “I need your cock, need you to fuck me.. please please!”

“There’s my good girl,” With one long push, you filled her completely, overwhelming the needy girl in all the best ways. You gave her just enough time to adjust, rutting into her tight pussy hard and fast as soon as possible. If she was wet before, Wanda was absolutely drenched now, making it all too easy to fuck into her as deep as you dared. “You look so pretty all fucked out, Wanda, begging to be fucked just outside of your dad’s office.. in a church, no less..”

“I.. I didn’t…” She truly hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but she certainly hadn’t objected too heavily either, especially not to this. Each time your hips met Wanda thought she was done for, that coil in the pit of her stomach tighter than she could ever remember it being. Her entire body felt like a livewire, every touch you provided almost stinging. As soon as you found her neglected clit, Wanda was panting, chest heaving in the small, restricted space between her and the wall. 

She devolved into an incoherent mess, pathetic and helpless noises echoing throughout the otherwise silent halls. In a selfish act, you covered Wanda’s mouth, cementing the impossible to ignore wet sounds coming from your girlfriend to memory. “Do you hear how wet you are for me, baby? I would’ve fucked you earlier if I knew you needed me this much.”

Your teasing was too much for Wanda to bear; your crude words, being forced to listen to how aroused she was. Part of her still chalked this up to some insanely vivid dream. The moment your fingertips slid past her lips Wanda was sucking on them, albeit sloppy and lazily, reflecting how little focus she had as your strap hit her at the perfect angle. She was losing it fast, muscles threatening to give out the closer her second orgasm came. “P-Please, can I-”

“Of course you can. Poor thing, you just need to cum so badly,” Wanda’s pulse raced under your lips, but you kissed her there so sweetly it nearly felt like a joke. Below, your hips moved at a torturous pace, quick and brutal in time with the circles you rubbed into her almost too sensitive bud. If you could just see her come apart one more time- “Cum for me, I’ve got you.”

Wanda’s jaw fell open, spit covered fingers giving her slight reprieve while she bucked and twisted wildly, only managing to stay upright with the help of your strong arms. Fucking her through it all quickly became more for your pleasure, bottoming out to let you grind your own clit against the back of the toy at the join of your hips, clinging to Wanda’s trembling form as you came with a groan into the back of her hair. “I would’ve helped…”

“Trust me, you did more than enough,” you mumbled, nibbling the shell of her ear as you caught your breath. You’d never given much thought to the joys of a joint orgasm until Wanda, finding something special in sharing your highs. Always one to prove how useful she could be, Wanda loved being allowed to touch you, to see how good she could make you feel before you reached your end, but this time she was in no state to do so nor did you need it; watching her was more than you would’ve ever asked for. “You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you.”

Wanda wanted to say something back, couldn’t remember if she’d actually spoken out loud or not, but also couldn’t focus hard enough to think that deeply at the moment. She felt like she spent an eternity there, swimming in some cloud high above the church while your touches turned gentle, stroking over her hips and stomach until Wanda finally started to settle down. 

Thankfully the church remained empty so you let her take her time, holding Wanda steady while you pulled out. Careful as you were, she still whimpered, body worn out and tired, “Shh, you’re okay, pretty girl.”

Turning around let Wanda slump against your front as you leaned into the wall, green eyes hazy and heavy. She drew you into an almost sleepy set of kisses, thanking you with sticky, lip gloss smudge marks along your jaw… until she remembered exactly where she was. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we just did that.. We have to get out of here now!” 

Fumbling terribly, your girlfriend snatched the fallen candy bags from the floor in one hand and your arm in the other, dragging you as fast as her strength would let her. “Be careful, Wanda, or you’ll trip!” 

“I’m fine, just open the car!” She didn’t know if she should be mortified or terrified, praying to every power in the universe no one ever found out about this. Wanda’d never sped out of church in such a flurry, as if the quicker she moved, the longer she could escape the anxiety gaining on her. 

Unfortunately for her, you had no such issues and her inner turmoil only made you laugh. “Don’t forget you liked it. I’m pretty sure you were the one begging loudest-”

“You made me!” To you, Wanda would deny her enjoyment for a while and she’d never think of doing it again, but as silence settled in the car and you turned your attention to the road, she struggled to keep still and not squirm too obviously as she replayed your Halloween havoc.

[heartpascal]

when the sun goes down

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does

▹— a/n: this one might be kinda ,, weird?? idk if i like how ive written it!! its kinda different to my usual fics !!! + the ending is kinda funky idk

▹— warnings: fem!reader (she/her used), reader is dead , mention of reader getting infected , grief, loss, guilt, lots of angst, small mention of suicidal ideation, referenced murder, mother tess, father joel, uncle tommy, ellie asking inappropriate questions tbh, think that’s everything but let me know!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear (pedro)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel had been a stranger, Ellie would have never even had the thought to guess that you or Sarah had existed. The man seemed… too stoic, too unbothered, or perhaps, too bothered. She was never really sure what Joel was, back then.

But over the weeks, then the months, and then the years of knowing Joel Miller, it had become increasingly obvious that there was a distinctive daughter-shaped gap within him. It had left a cavernous space in the man, which Ellie had done her very best to fill, even if she would never have admitted it to anyone.

It was clear in the way Joel had tied up her hair when she was sick, in the way he knew exactly what she needed to hear, even when she didn’t know herself. It was obvious in the way he responded to her argumentative nature, her spitting words, his protective behaviour.

Ellie hadn’t even really thought about it, until the day she and Joel arrived at Jackson, until Maria revealed what the two names on that chalkboard meant. After that, it all started to make sense, and she had finally believed that she understood Joel Miller in some deeper way, in a way that actually mattered. She didn’t think about what she was doing back when she had argued with Joel, when she had spluttered out, “I’m not her, you know.”

Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, back then, and Ellie hadn’t known at the time that when she had said her, Joel didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.

Either way, he made it clear that Ellie shouldn’t be mentioning anybody Joel had lost. Certainly not you or Sarah, or even Tess.

After the whole… hospital fiasco, Ellie wasn’t sure she had ever understood Joel, after all. She’d been numb, to some extent, when she and Joel had finally made it back to Jackson, back to Tommy and Maria’s warm house, with their surprisingly peaceful baby. The first time she had visited their house, she hadn’t even noticed your name up on the chalkboard, a new addition, one without any dates below it, but written with as much care as the others.

It was the second, or the third time, maybe, that Ellie noticed the brand new name up on the chalkboard in Maria’s living room. She had been even more hesitant to talk about it than she had been to talk about Sarah and Kevin, so Ellie had figured that the loss was fresh. She hadn’t asked again, for a very long time.

Tommy, unsurprisingly, had been the one to tell her. A long day after a nightly patrol had the man exhausted, and he was two glasses of booze in when he had seen Ellie squinting up at the chalkboard as she was around for dinner.

“He ever tell you about her?” Tommy asked, fresh glass of booze gripped in his fist as he settled down on the sofa, looking up at the board with something numb in his eyes.

Ellie had said your name like a question, eyes scanning between the board and Tommy with furrowed brows. At Tommy’s nod, Ellie had shook her head, turning to Tommy like a child ready for story time before bed.

Tommy took another sip of his drink, sucking his teeth before he finally spoke. “He never told me what happened to her,” He said, eyes fixed on the board as if information might appear. “But I figure he must blame himself, whatever happened. She was fine when I left, but I’m guessing gone by the time you were around.” Tommy continued, looking to Ellie, who nodded. “Don’t know when exactly it happened. He’s real tight lip about it, even more so than he is about Tess, but I don’t blame him. She was his second chance.”

“Second chance?” Ellie repeated, eyebrows raised.

Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Found her not long after the Outbreak. She took to Joel straight away, poor kid. After Sarah, he was… different, but Joel, he looked after that girl like nobody else would’a.”

Some of the things Joel had done or said made a lot more sense to Ellie, in light of this information. You had been Joel’s second chance at protecting his daughter, his redemption, and he had failed. It was no surprise, in that case, that he had been as protective as he had. Or that he had tried to dump Ellie with Tommy, back when they first got to Jackson.

Joel believed he was a failure.

It was quite the realisation for Ellie.

She noticed more, after that. Like the way Joel would stop in the street when he saw people who must have held a certain resemblance to you or to Sarah. Or the way he would stay up late into the night, staring blankly at the darkening world around him as he sat on the porch. Ellie noticed just how much effort Joel put into looking after her, as if afraid that something could happen to her, or she could just disappear. She also noticed the way his eyes lingered on Tommy’s chalkboard, each time they visited.

Ellie thought that maybe, some day, Joel would wind up talking about you on his own. But days passed, and then weeks, and then they’d been staying in Jackson for close to two years, and nothing.

If it hadn’t had been for Joel sticking his nose into Ellie’s business, she probably would’ve never even revealed to him that she knew of your existence. Or at least, your connection to him. But Joel Miller was nothing if not stubborn, and when Ellie had been down for more than two days in a row, he stopped minding his business.

Joel was all comforting words in the face of a preventable loss on a patrol, and Ellie was sick of it.

“It ain’t your fault, kiddo. Nobody blames you for what happened, and you oughta talk about it to somebody.” Joel had said, voice warm and concerned like any father might be, and Ellie couldn’t help but snap after the day she’d had.

“It’s always one thing for you and then another for me, Joel!” She said, baring her teeth at the man, who only looked as confused as ever. “I’m sick of it. Stop telling me things that you know aren’t true, just because you feel guilty!”

His arms had been crossed defensively over his chest at her words, his eyebrows furrowing, the crease between them more prominent than ever. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice gruff and warning, as opposed to the previous tone he had been taking with her. He was practically daring her to go on with what she was insinuating.

“That you want to believe your kids dying wasn’t on you! And that’s great, Joel, but this was on me. It was my fault.” Ellie had spat out, arms wide out by her side, their stances opposing one another. She was accepting her guilt, acknowledging it, realising it was true, where Joel had only ever taken the blame, lugging the guilt along with him for years as if hoping it could disappear.

He had been sure, for a moment, that Ellie had taken to physical blows, but he realised in the silence which had followed her words that the pain was all him. She was right, which to Joel, was the real kicker. He had a knack for projecting onto people, for being defensive over guilt as if it reflected his own. As if, somehow, Ellie being guilty meant that Joel certainly was, too.

Maybe Ellie was right, but even if she was, Joel was in no mindset to admit it. How could he? He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about you, too scared that Ellie would see him for what he truly was; a failure. How would Ellie have responded to that? It was the exact reason he hadn’t told her the truth about the hospital, about what he had done, about the lengths he would go to. She might have seen him violent before, but never to that extent. Never against people she cared for.

If he told Ellie the truth, he would have to admit that he had failed a third child. Perhaps not quite in the same way as he had failed you and Sarah, but in some capacity, he would lose her, too.

Joel had been a selfish man for a very long time, by then. It was no surprise that he opted for the path that would allow him to keep the only child he had left. Who could blame him? Even Tommy, in some strange way, had understood his actions. Especially after his baby had been born, Tommy couldn’t blame Joel for doing what was necessary.

A parent’s love for their child was unrelenting. And Joel took that sentiment very seriously.

But Ellie couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t.

So, in that moment, he had levelled her with a look that put all parental glares to shame. “Go to your room.” Joel had instructed, voice flat, cold. Ellie, in her shock, had done as she was told, which was unusual.

This time, however, when Joel told Tommy of what had occurred, his brother hadn’t agreed with his actions.

When Tommy explained that Ellie didn’t know about you, or about Sarah, and certainly didn’t understand the relationship the two of you had had with Joel, he could see how she could’ve said something so… distasteful. After all, Joel had never told Ellie exactly what had happened to Sarah, let alone to you. Hell, he didn’t speak about you at all. He didn’t want Ellie to believe that he would fail her next.

But the talk was overdue, and the silence in the house had been suffocating Joel, and he noticed how uncomfortable Ellie had been, too. So he had no choice but to steel himself, to grip a mug of coffee, give up on slowing his heart rate.

When Ellie walked through the door, having been out with her friends all day, she stopped short at seeing Joel sat on the couch, looking more stressed than she had seen him in a long, long time. “Sit down.” Joel said, his words catching and tumbling out, as he gestured towards the armchair opposite the couch.

Surprisingly, she sat. “Is everything… okay?” She asked, hesitantly.

“I think it’s time I have a talk with you,” Joel admitted, his fingers squeezing the mug tightly. “You were right.”

“As always.” Ellie responded instantly, an instinctive response that generated a scoff of laughter from Joel, soothing his stressed brow the slightest amount. She cringed, but relaxed at his expression. “About what, exactly?”

“About it being one thing for me, and another for you. It’s not fair of me to ask you to talk about things, if I don’t talk right back to you.” Joel said, slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts before he fumbled another important father-daughter talk, as he had done many times before. “I’m goin’ to tell you about my girls.”

“Joel, you really don’t—”

He interrupted, “No, I do. And I want to.”

Ellie nodded after a moment, settling down in her chair, finally placing her backpack by her feet. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel repeated. He took a deep breath, squeezing the coffee mug once more. He said your name, the syllables almost unfamiliar for how long it had been since he had said it. “She, well, I—… She got Infected, ‘bout six years ago.”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath, sure she knew what had happened after that. It was a story she knew, all too well. Joel scratched at the hair on his cheek, grinding his teeth together. Remembering it all, remembering you was… hard. But it was also refreshing. As if showing the parts of you he’d held to his chest for so long was a weight, lifted from his shoulders.

He didn’t want to talk about that part, about the time he failed you, about what he’d done for you, but other things? He could talk about those.

Joel remembered the years he had spent with you, watching you grow, spending weeks of his life searching for gifts for every assumed birthday. He remembered teaching you how to read, gifting you books, helping you learn how to survive. He remembered the bond you’d shared with Tess, the time the two of them would spend doing your hair for you, with whatever supplies they could manage.

Telling Ellie about you was probably the most vulnerable Joel had ever been with her. It was certainly the most open he had been. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had his heart stitched onto his sleeve.

There was so many memories of you, so many he’d kept to himself for years because Tess had never been able to talk about you, because he couldn’t bring himself to, either. He worried about memories he had forgotten, about how much of your face had faded into obscurity, about how inaccurately he recalled your laugh, your voice.

He thought that, perhaps, his very worst fear would be that if he let go of these memories, if he let other people look upon them alongside him, he’d forget. Joel wasn’t sure he could be open and hold on tight enough. What was too much? How much could he say before he forgot it all? How much would he remember if he didn’t analyse them in his mind? If he let Ellie listen to the moments he held most dear?

Joel didn’t want to forget.

But if he didn’t tell anybody, then who would remember you, after Joel was gone?

There was Tommy, he’d considered, but he knew Tommy’s memories were corrupted, taken over by Firefly nostalgia. No, despite Joel’s being older, his memories of you were certain to be more reliable.

“Here,” Joel said, eventually, his throat feeling tight with the effort of holding back tears. He pulled out a folded up print, one he had gotten out just that afternoon. It was crumpled and degraded with age, but the image remained true. “This is her.”

Ellie took the photo from his hands, the image being of you. It was taken when you were a kid, back when he’d first found you, back when FEDRA had been doing photographs, before all of the printing supplies ran out. It wasn’t a happy picture by any means, merely an image of you, stood in front of a white background with a scared look on your face, dirt smeared across your nose, but it was you. And to Joel, that was enough.

He much preferred to think of you that way, rather than your last moments. It was the only thing that allowed him to let go of that last picture of you, the one that haunted his mind.

When Tess had died, the only thing that gave Joel some peace was the belief that she would have reunited with you. That you wouldn’t be alone, anymore. Often times, in the events after your… well, after he lost you, Joel had considered following you down that path. He had prayed to the God he had once believed in, he had cried out for any divine interference to stop what had happened from being true. But no matter how much he prayed, how much he cried, you were gone.

You had given him a purpose, after Sarah. Joel doesn’t think he would’ve made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you. And it feels so… wrong. He thinks, now, that Ellie had provided him with a purpose, after you.

“So, you raised her in the apocalypse?” Ellie asked, looking down at the photograph fondly, running a thumb along the yellowing picture.

“That I did.”

“Lucky kid.” Ellie said, not nastily.

“I dunno, kiddo, I’ve not always been the best…” Joel trailed off, unsure if he could actually refer to himself as your dad, after everything. After what he had done. Or, rather, what he hadn’t. “We did our best, me and Tess. Hell, even Tommy pitched in.” Joel decided on, after a moment.

He remembered the times Tommy would agree to look after you, to babysit, if such a thing existed in the apocalypse. Usually, it was when he and Tess were going outside of the QZ for supplies, occasionally for the Fireflies, which was why Tommy was allowed time away from his war against FEDRA.

One such time, Joel recalled, he and Tess had returned back to the ransacked apartment they had been assigned to find you and Tommy curled up on the decaying couch, which had only one cushion, asleep. A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders, and Tommy had your newest book held in his lap.

In that moment, Joel had so wished that he could’ve taken a picture. He remembered a picture of almost the same scene, of Tommy and Sarah on the couch in his old house, in front of a still-playing TV. He regretted not taking the photo albums when they left, back then. Even now, he often felt a pang of regret over how much of Sarah’s memory was reliant on his own.

“Tess raised her with you?” Ellie questioned, almost surprised, but she could remember the way Tess had acted almost… maternal. Not to mention her optimism, her hope, when there was a possibility of a cure. She wondered if that was because of what had happened to you.

Joel nodded, going on to tell the tale of Tess teaching you how to shoot, when you became old enough to handle a gun, when it became apparent that you would need to handle one. He remembered how you had missed all but one shot by your second lot of ammo. He remembered how frustrated you had been, how Tess had told you to suck it up and try again, with that good old no-nonsense attitude.

Ellie could almost imagine Tess saying that, could almost picture how annoying that must’ve been for you as a kid. It was almost amusing to try and picture Joel and Tess raising a child in the apocalypse, especially given how the two had been when she had met them, herself. She tried to imagine that Tess being a mother, but came up empty.

“Did she, y’know, call you dad, or whatever?” Ellie asked Joel, after a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if that was inappropriate to ask, but she was curious. She couldn’t imagine calling Joel ‘dad’ to his face, even though he was the only father she had ever known.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping up from the couch and away from Tommy, successfully waking him up in the process. You stumbled your way to the door as Joel swung it open, already dropping his bag to the floor. He was used to the greeting party, but you didn’t often shout him, in fact — did you ever? And since when did you call him ‘dad’? “You’re home! Did you get it?” You asked, jumping into his awaiting arms.

Joel squeezed you tightly, feeling a mixture of guilty and relieved that he was glad to be back, to come home to the child he had yet to fail. He thought about where you could have learnt that word, that name from, and could only come up with the new books Tommy had been helping you with while he and Tess had been away.

“‘Course I got it,” Joel responded, his voice gruff but full of warmth and humour. “Who d’you take me for?” He asked, grinning at your laughter and the way you squirmed from his hold to get to the backpack he’d dropped beside his feet.

“What’re we reading next, then?” Tommy asked, drawing Joel’s attention over towards the sofa, where his younger brother was smiling fondly. You hurried over, attention easily drawn away, and showed Tommy the book you’d taken from Joel’s bag, the one he’d managed to scrounge on his journey outside with Tess.

Joel was quickly drawn from his memories of the journey by you calling out to him once more. “Dad, are you coming to read with us, or not?” You asked, exasperated, and Joel grinned as he came over, his heart aching in his chest at the name, at the nostalgia of the activity.

“You bet.”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“She did.” Joel answered, after a moment of him being distracted, thinking of that very first time, thinking of the way he had fallen back into the title with such familiarity. He wondered if you would have been much like Sarah, had you been born before the apocalypse. Sometimes, he wondered that about Ellie. Often, he had to remind himself that you and Ellie weren’t his biological kids, and if it wasn’t for the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have had you.

He doesn’t like the way his chest aches at the thought of that. It might just be the only reason he’s grateful for the apocalypse that had ruined the world.

“She would’a liked you, y’know.” Joel said, almost absentmindedly, as if that comment didn’t make Ellie’s chest warm with appreciation, with pride. As if it didn’t make her wish that she could’ve met you, could’ve proved that comment correct.

“I think I would’ve liked her, too.” Ellie said, quietly, watching the way Joel reminisced, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the photo she still held. He smiled after a moment, and she was sure he was imagining what his life would’ve been like, had all of his kids met.

[flynnriderishot]

wanted to come say that i truly so adore you and your work and whether or not people agree, your opinion is valid and you shouldn’t be getting hate for it ☺️❤️ i love you and everyone else loves you too. you are one of the best sturniolo writers on this app and i would hate to see you leave just because people are mean

onto a better note: WHERE IS CUTE PT4 BABE??

cute pt.4 - m.s

a/n: thank you so much for the kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me, truly 😭. i’ve been a bit hesitant to continue posting since the comments being made about my opinions and knowing that i have at least one person that’s on my side means a lot 🫶🏾 thank you. here’s part 4 :)

you rolled over in bed, only to be met with a chunk of hair in your face. it didn’t take long for you to realize that y/f/n crashed in your bed the night before. there was also no doubt in your mind that she would have a hangover.

whilst you didn’t tend to drink much, y/f/n didn’t turn down a cup of alcohol or five.

you knew she’d have a headache when she woke up, so you made quick work to tend to her before she woke up complaining.

you made sure that she had her aspirin and water near the bedside before you grabbed your phone and walked off to the kitchen to make breakfast.

grabbing what you needed to make fried potatoes, you got distracted by your phone vibrating.

matthew sturniolo :)

hey

not sure if you’re up yet but i had fun last night

8:23 am

not that we did anything because we didn’t aside from exchange phone numbers

i don’t wanna make this awkward…

text me when you’re up?

9:24 am

vinnie 🤠

i saw you leave with y/f/n and those sturniolo triplets

lemme know if you got home safe

2:35 am

yn 🗣️

made it home safely !!

alls good, thanks for checking in

10:38 am

matthew sturniolo :)

you up?

10:39 am

yn ln :)

good morning

sorry i didn’t answer sooner, i just woke up and y/f/n and i crashed as soon as we made it home

matthew sturniolo :)

it’s all good. just wanted to make sure her excessive singing last night didn’t leave you with a headache 😭

yn ln :)

god no 💀

i’m used to it

matthew sturniolo :)

have you checked instagram?

we’re trending 😉

yn ln :)

how fun 🙄

how bad is it?

matthew sturniolo :)

i kinda it’s kinda cute🤷‍♂️

tap to open link

instagram

comments

hardlyasturniolo the way they were in the back of vinnie’s video that he posted on his story 😭

pepsicolachris meetcute is CRAZY 💀😭

>>> larraysloosecurl IM PEEING 💀

ynsgirlfriend THEY MET ?!?!?

>>> happilysturn is that not what the post says ?

>>> ynsgirlfriend don’t get smart with me.

naileasheart the way i just know yn was freaking out 💀

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yn ln :)

i’m getting a lot less hate than i thought i’d be getting 🙌

that’s good

matthew sturniolo :)

it’s perfect actually

that makes it so much easier for me to ask

your brows furrowed as you read the text. of course you had an idea of what he may have wanted to ask you, but it was so hard not to think otherwise. he so bold when speaking to you, nothing like how he is on his youtube channel.

yn ln :)

ask me what…

matthew sturniolo :)

what are you doing today?

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo

tags for this fic: @3kslav @annamcdonalds67 @strnsblog @lexxxiii-iix @patscorner @lemon-criminal @safara05 @sturniplofab @somewhere91 @maddisqnx @sturniolho @1201pm @sturniolossss @mattswrld @marieslife123 @kiera324

[zombieunicorngamerzu]

(Inpatient Lottie Matthews x fem inpatient reader)

[Warnings - Reader is depressed, Lottie is Schizophrenic with a growing obsession towards her new roommate, you, Delusional Lottie, Overbearing Lottie, Overprotective Lottie, Posessive Lottie, slight dubcon, manipulation, oral, fingering, claiming, praise]

The first time Lottie ever saw you was when you were first introduced as her roommate, she was sitting in her bed with her notebook as one of the nurses brought you in, you were selective mute, you didn’t even look at Lottie, but she still smiled, she didn’t understand why, but as soon as she saw you she just thought, “I can help her, I need to help her, poor baby.”

She thought you were just perfect in every way, she wanted to know more about you, she wanted to take care of you, she wanted to get you to open up to her. So the moment you sat down and you both were left alone, Lottie sat down her book, biting her lip before she got up and walked over to sit with you, speaking gently, “Hey, I’m Lottie, you know- it’s all gonna be okay, they can help you, like they did me… although I hope they don’t do the treatment they did to me to you, I-I won’t let them hurt you, okay? I swear.”

You just kinda looked up at her, it was the first time you locked eyes with anyone since you got here, so Lottie already felt accomplished breaking you out of your dissociation, her face brightened up as she smiled, reaching to brush your hair out of your face, “Yeah… see? That’s it!” You felt a little comforted by your new “friend”, you didn’t think you’d make a friend so quick but Lottie was pretty and kind and she made you feel safe so you just gave her the smallest of smiles which Lottie took as complete victory, her smile lighting up the room. “You don’t have to say anything, I can just tell by your eyes, it’s okay.” Lottie shakes her head with a soft smile, not expecting you to speak, she just knows.

Over the next few weeks Lotties never left your side once, she pretty much scared away all the other patients and the staff with blackmail, it was easy with the money she had, one call to daddy and she could get the whole unit fired, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do that for you. She almost attacked a staff member when you wouldn’t take your meds and they tried to force you, you’d never seen or heard Lottie get that fierce and loud in tone, she looked scary, but it made the staff members harsh behavior dull.

Lottie helped you with pretty much everything, walking, eating, taking your meds, showering, over time you became so co-depend on Lottie you had to sleep in the same bed with her too because you couldn’t sleep without her. It was late, you were laying half-asleep with Lottie like always, only this time Lottie was really squirmy tonight. Little did you know she was having a “vision” In her sleep. Her dreams screaming at her, the forest, the wilderness, the trees, but most of all, she got glimpses of you, you and her, together, naked in the forest laying and making love as a offer to the wilderness, pleasing the god there.

You were meant to be hers, the wilderness guided her here for you, so you could find her. You were meant for her, she knew it as soon as she woke up from her dream, trembling a little bit as she caught her breath. For the first time Lottie got to hear your voice, you had turned to face her, your tone soft, she swore for a fact that her visions were true the moment she heard your beautiful voice, she swore it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard, “Lottie?” You spoke out softly with concern, thinking she had a nightmare.

When Lottie locked eyes with you in your dark room there was something different in her gaze, you frowned with concern before you were caught in a surprise kiss, making you try to jerk back but Lottie slid her hand to the back of your neck to force you into a deeper kiss, mumbling breathlessly against your lips, “No, Shhh, shhh, don’t run away from me, your meant for me, I-I saw it, I swear… let me take care of you, Y/N…” she rambled out desperately, looking disheveled as she brushed her lips against yours. You were shocked in a face as Lottie quickly straddled you, your eyes wide with surprise as she consoled you, caressing your cheek,

“Baby it’s okay… I promise, once we get out of here I’m gonna take you far away from here we’re we can be happy and free, away from society.” You we’re just dazed before gasping as Lottie slipped her hand under the band of your pants, her fingers immediately just aiming to slip inside you, making you arch with a whine, “L-Lottie!” She covered your mouth with a shake of her head, whispering out, “No- don’t make noise okay? You don’t want me to leave, do you?”

She looked down at you with such a kicked puppy dog look while curling her fingers inside you, making your eyes roll back as you shook your head, moaning into her hand. She just smiled so wild at your reaction, taking her hand off your mouth to kiss you roughly, biting your lip with a quiet groan, “Fuckkkk, baby- baby… oh, I’m gonna take such good care of you- gonna get you out of here, I swear to god-“

You moaned out with a whimper against her lips as she worked her fingers inside you so quick and deep, she was sloppy and rough, only focusing on making you cum as quick as possible, it was so overwhelming and overstimulating the way she was ranting while wildly ramming her fingers inside your now dripping cunt, making sloppy wet noises while you squirmed under her. She only chuckled out breathlessly with a wild smile as she watched you succumb to her and the pleasure and care she gave you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me, pretty girl…”

[monzamash]

the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part three)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter warning – 18+ (smut, language, age gap/older woman) word count – 8k a/n – the third and final part! thank you all for being so patient x inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Previously...

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. And maybe you didn’t need all the wisdom and baggage that came with someone older, someone who had already lived a life. In contrast, Lando was exciting and living life to the fullest, travelling the world, seeing it all and not burdened by responsibility.

But that’s what made him the dangerous choice. All these insecurities and fears swirled around in your head as you fell asleep in his warm embrace, limbs tangled together like a web, tender between your thighs and an ache in your heart.

You were falling in love with Lando; that much was true but what would the cost be of handing your heart over to someone who had the world at his feet, everything still to experience?

Winter had come and gone and spring was blossoming in all it’s glory, bringing with it new opportunity. Little by little, leaves sprouted on the branches, chirping birds returned to their homes and the scent of fresh flowers filled the busy streets of London – life resuming to normal after a long, brutal winter. The New Year proved to be quite fruitful, with you landing a freelancing job and loving it. It was time to recalibrate your goals and aspirations, reconsider where you saw yourself in five years.

The closing of one chapter gave you permission to want more, to expect more than the mundane and experience what the world had to offer. You’d settled for less for far too long but now you were finally stepping up and advocating for yourself – to yourself.

“You seem so happy.”

Rae couldn’t help herself. She’d kept tight-lipped until now, sensing the shift in your mood weeks ago and loving how much you’d been smiling lately. And she knew why. A certain curly haired man had shown you what happiness looked like, what it felt like and most importantly, how it could mend a broken spirit. You were stumbling through life, chasing unattainable goals and it made you miserable. You were free-spirited, a lone wolf – and Lando allowed you to explore that, to be spontaneous.

“I am,” You simply replied and took a sip of the coffee she’d made you, watching your eyes glimmer in the morning light. There was a sparkle ever present when you talked about him or thought about him – a spark ignited deep within. Burning.

“And how does Lando feel about being the reason you’re so happy?” Rae asked with a sly, knowing smile as she clasped her hands under her chin, waiting for you to spill all the tea she’d missed out on over the last couple of week.

“Don’t know, to be honest. I assume he knows he’s the reason – and hopefully I’m part of the reason why he’s racing so well. We talk nearly every day…” You confessed, cheeks every so lightly blushing underneath the thin layer of foundation.

Rae nodded and flicked through her phone, “He’s going very well apparently. Mark gives me an update every weekend – kinda strange to think that he’s on the other side of the world right now.” She glanced up with furrowed brows, face-palming her forehead, “As if you need to be reminded of that. I'm sorry.”

You shrugged, “It’s totally fine. I actually… No, I shouldn’t say it.” You hesitated, knowing that if you said the words out loud, they would suddenly become real and you didn’t want to put those thoughts and feelings out into the universe – not yet.

“Well you have to now,” Rae chuckled, her full attention all yours.

“I thought that maybe he would’ve asked me to come along to a race – his home one at least but it hasn’t come up… and I’ve been pathetically hinting at it – it’s really lame so forget I said anything,” You quickly muttered, fumbling over your words and feeling your heart start to race.

“That’s like, the opposite of lame. You should ask him.”

“No fucking way. God, even just thinking about asking him makes me want to throw up,” You laughed, almost choking on your words as if it was the last thing on earth you would ever do, “No, if he wants me there, he’ll ask.”

Rae nodded and went back to the coffee in her hands, “Your call but I think he’d appreciate you being forward. I can hear how much you mean to him when you’re on the phone… don’t take what you have for granted.”

“Sage advice, Sensai.”

You promised to think about it. But things were perfect with Lando and the last thing you wanted to do was over step boundaries when everything had been smooth sailing. You strongly believed that if he wanted you there, he would ask and you were sticking with it. It wasn’t the end of the world if he didn’t either, and maybe he was worried that the whole spectacle would scare you away. The endless rotation of thoughts tumbled around in your head until you finally fell asleep, curled up in his bed, waiting for him to come home.

The sound of his soft voice a few hours later woke you from your nap, “What are you doing here? Where’s your Mum?” You heard him ask your puppy who was skating around his feet, scratching the floorboards and no doubt nearly weeing herself with excitement.

The faint squeak of the bedroom door made your heart flip in your chest, watching him step through with a small smile. His eyes were dark and those wild curls you loved fell flat over his forehead – physically shattered from a whole day of travel, flight cancelations delaying his return home but he exhaled when he spotted you propped up in his bed, relieved that you were still here after weeks away. A weight had been taken off his weary shoulders when he saw your face.

“Welcome home,” You whispered as he dropped his luggage at the door and unclipped the backpack on his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Lando jumped up onto the bed like a shot and summoned the last remaining ounces of energy he had, crawling over your duvet-covered body. You had thought about surprising him with something cute, like a new two-piece lingerie set because that’s what you’d always done for men. Dolled yourself up until you were unrecognisable, servicing them and not wearing what you wanted. But Lando worshiped the ground you walked on, made you feel sexier than you’d ever felt before. Oversized t-shirts and track pants were his love language. Comfort was important to him and there was nothing he loved more than seeing you relaxed. Cosy and content.

“Missed you more.” You sighed as Lando grasped the duvet and ripped it back, along with the sheets; a smirk teasing on his lips, “Doubt that very much.”

The unruly curls were even more frazzled close up, the bags under his eyes darker than the last time you’d seen him. His cheeks were hollowed, bone structure more prominent and small blemishes had surfaced on his soft skin, reminding him that even in the chaos of a double header, he still needed to follow a skincare routine. His sullen features made your heart sink as he hovered above you; his cheeky expression the only thing keeping you from asking if he was okay, if he was struggling. There was glimmer in his eyes that settled your fears, a bright spark igniting behind the bloodshot whites giving you silent reassurance that being here with you was the lifeline that he needed right now.

“I thought about this every day… about you, about us. Feel like a muppet for being away from a creature as beautiful as you for so long,” Lando chuckled through his confession – reflecting on how ridiculous the last few weeks had been, how stupid he was for not calling more. 

“A really cute muppet though,” You teased, making him giggle and lose balance, fatigued arms giving out and causing him to land on top of you with a loud huff. You took his entire body weight with a sigh, arms wrapped around his torso; head nestled into the crook of his neck. Lando did the same – lips dancing over the shell of your ear, whispering how beautiful you looked, how desperately he craved the feeling of you tangled up with him but his voice was strained, depleted.

Lando managed to lift himself up and save you from the crush, propped up on his elbow, eyes trained on the side of you face in the dimly lit bedroom. The only light source coming from the laptop to your left, white light blasting up the dark walls as you laid peacefully, fingertips brushing over the exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Did Max let you in? I didn’t see him downstairs,” Lando asked, curious to know how you managed to surprise him like this, welcoming him home with open arms.

“He gave me his key – he’s gone up to Bristol for some racing thing, he said. And Chompy and I couldn’t wait to see you so he offered. I hope that’s okay…”

You felt awkward all of a sudden, like you’d overstepped one of those invisible boundaries that were in place, about to explode on a grenade. But Lando’s rolling eyes softened you, a smile erupting on his face as he leaned in and captured your lips, “More than okay. Wish you were here all the time.”

He didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. Moving in together wasn’t on the agenda but he appreciated you being there tonight, a familiar face to ground him again after weeks spent flying around the world, Austria being the last stop.

“How long are you back for this time?”

The question was laced in faux curiosity – you knew how long you had him in London, down to the hour if you were being totally honest. The innocent question made Lando think, mind flicking through the days like a diary in the palms of his hands, “A bit over a week, I reckon. Silverstone’s this weekend – home race,” He replied animatedly, eyes wide and shining bright.

“Exciting,” You whispered as Lando stretched his back, hand squeezing your hip.

“I’ve got you a pass for the weekend but realised I hadn’t actually asked if you were free… You are, right?” His question quelled all of your fears of him thinking you weren’t interested in his life, not willing to take that next step with him.

You nodded, simply, wordless while you turned onto your side. Lando smiled and closed his eyes as your hands trawled through his uncontrollable hair, curls tangling around your fingers while you pulled him closer and pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, “I’ll be shitting myself the whole time but that’ll be out weighed by seeing you in your race suit, I guess.”

Lando huffed out a soft chuckle, eyes cracking open ever so slightly – playfully narrowed, “I do look really sexy in the kit.” You hummed in agreement, nodding while closing the gap again, lips softly touching before his hand snaked up and held your jaw gently, holding you in place.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other; slowly drifting off to sleep. Having Lando home brought you more joy than you thought it would, a comfort that caught you by surprise. You were an independent woman, self-reliant but he gave you something that you didn’t even know you needed – companionship. A sounding board to all your shit, someone who listened without judgement, unfiltered opinions on anything and everything.

And unbeknownst to you, Lando had made it his mission to be that person for you. He was quickly learning all your whims, the good and the bad and appreciating how you saw the world so differently to him – so wise. This was, after all, his first serious relationship and he was in uncharted waters, with an older woman.

But once you’d gotten to know more about each other than what was underneath your clothes, the age gap was merely a factoid in your story. You were everything he could’ve conjured up in a dream journal – smart, sexy, funny, down to earth and into him. Well-travelled, cultured, successful; you were everything and still, after three months, couldn’t believe that he was the one you were falling in love with; that you were his.

The morning of race day was utter madness. Lando was running late, as per usual, rushing around his apartment trying to find his sunglasses until you picked them up from his kitchen counter with a smile. Thank you, he whispered, pressing a hurried kiss to your cheek before hiking up his backpack and pulling you towards the front door. You’d kept your outfit simple and boringly beige, not wanting to stand out too much in the paddock. The white knitted dress that came down to mid-thigh, black tights, combat boots and a taupe Burberry trenchcoat did the job at staying low-key, blending into the background noise and avoiding the chaos.

Max had promised to metaphorically hold your hand the entire day, making sure you weren’t separated from the small Quadrant crew that had also been invited along to the British Grand Prix. You didn’t know much about them, nor did you realise how renowned they were but everywhere they went, they were bombarded with people asking for selfies and autographs.

“It’s getting fucking stupid now. We’ve gotta go!” Ria, who you’d met barely five minutes ago, yelled at Max who was pointing towards the paddock entrance with a panicked look on his face. “You go first babes,” She smiled, more of less pushing you towards the turnstile with your pass around your neck, finally making it through the gates.

You wondered how they ever got used to that – the constant attention. And if it was this bad for them, you couldn’t imagine how intense it was for Lando. Truth be told, you’d never actually gone out on an official date together, always opting for post-mates and spending quality time alone at home – away from prying eyes and ill-mannered people who had no sense of personal space. But would it be like this everywhere you went with him? Were you prepared to have your whole life on display for the world to see? You had no clue.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Max exhaled, grasping your shoulder with sympathetic eyes. He was more shocked than you were about the whole situation and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how stunned he was, readjusting his Quadrant cap.

“Didn’t realise you were so famous, Maxy boy. Kind of impressed,” You teased back, earning a chuckle from Ria who had walked up beside you, arm linked with yours, “Don’t stroke his ego too much.”

“Good point.”

There were celebrities filing through the crowd in droves and the pit lane was absolutely loaded with people trying to get a glimpse of the teams. McLaren were the epitome of formula one in the United Kingdom, you’d been told and that was backed up ten-fold when you peeked into the garage, searching for their star drivers. Lando had spoken about Daniel fondly and admired the way he was able to put his head down and tune out the bullshit. You told him to let some of that resilience rub off on him, knowing that the external noise is never as bad as what’s going on inside his head. But you could only control one of the two.

You could almost see those internal thoughts swirling above Lando’s tilted head when you spotted him in the back of the garage – intently analysing jumbled numbers on a screen and biting his fingernails. He looked almost angelic standing amongst the madness in the white skin-tight fireproofs, suit folded down and hanging around his jutted hips. His thumb was basically in his mouth, teeth violently chomping away at the skin as he processed whatever it was the man beside him was saying, eyebrows rising when he mentioned something of interest.

“Don’t be offended if he doesn’t come over and say hello – he’s usually in the zone by now and blocks everyone out.” Max explained, managing your expectations and you appreciated the heads up. You didn’t know what to expect from the day but having a reassuring voice giving you the low down helped more than he knew.

“Oh, of course. It’s awesome to see it all in person – so much crazier than on TV,” You replied with wide eyes and an understanding smile.

Max nodded and continued to meet people while you stood beside him and the Quadrant team, taking in the scenes. The main difference between being at the track on race day and watching it on TV were the television crews. Everywhere you looked there were several people swinging around a cameraman, trying not to run into people or disrupt other stations broadcasts. You chuckled at a couple of the pit crew dancing in the background of a shot, knowing that their weekend had been a lot longer than anyone else’s here.

You were so preoccupied watching them fooling around that you hadn’t felt someone sneaking up behind you, hand gently gripping your waist; the whispered ‘hi’ in your ear assuring you that it was Lando. His hand retreated before you spun around, the other holding a water bottle up to his mouth.

“Hi you,” You replied sweetly, instinctively reaching out to nudge his hip but deciding mid air to keep your hands to yourself. Lando noticed and chuckled as he took a gulp of water, eyes scanning your face.

“You’re a little bit sunburnt, baby.” He stated with a smirk, taking in your flushed cheeks and feeling his heart flip at how happy you looked. “Are you having fun?”

“Lots of fun. And I’m being very well looked after – thank you by the way,” You replied quietly, Lando taking a step forward so he could hear you over all the commotion. He scanned the small group of his closest friends and internally jumped for joy that they had stuck to their word and kept an eye out for you.

“Better fucking be. I’m paying them the big bucks,” Lando winked and pulled up the rope that was separating the two of you, “Want a tour?”

Naturally your eyebrows rose with excitement and you nodded, quickly whipping your head around to see where Max had gone and thankfully catching Ria’s attention. You pointed towards Lando who was already dragging you away and she held her hand up to her ear, gesturing for you to call her when you needed to meet up with them again. You figured there was enough time for this tour before Lando needed to be under lock and key and you hoped you weren’t being a distraction as you sheepishly followed him through the garage.

“I’m just gonna grab my gloves from my room and walk her back to the paddock,” Lando whispered to Jon, who had been one of the sweetest people you’d met so far. No worries mate, he replied with a smile before returning to his phone.

Once you were out of sight of the crowd and cameras, Lando held out his hand for you to take, clasping it firmly as he tugged you through the narrow hallways and behind the motorhomes set up side by side. He was strategic in his route, giggling when he spotted all the media looking around to bundle up drivers and team bosses for a quick comment before the race, “We’re so sneaky.”

You stayed close to him as he weaved you around once last corner and up a couple of steps, whipping the door closed as quickly as it was opened. The room was snug - only a few metres wide each way, a small daybed tucked against the wall and a desk beside you. Lando had video called you a couple of times from here, giving you the grand tour of his tiny drivers room but it was surreal to see his sanctuary in person.

“Wow, I knew it was small but you can barely swing a cat in here.” Your comment made Lando chuckle as he tidied the bed that he’d clearly been napping in before leaving to find you.

“But it’s cute and I like this a lot…” You pointed to the Polaroid stuck to the large mirror hanging above his desk – the photo was of the two of you on New Years Eve, tipsy and falling in love, “Softie.”

“How dare you call me a softie,” Lando scoffed, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest, trailing soft kisses up the side of your neck. “’Cause you’ve made me like this, you know.”

The rational little voice in your head was telling you to put ice on whatever Lando had on his mind, his hands doing all the talking as they skimmed over your stomach, heading north towards the two things he loved the most. You stopped their course and tutted, turning in his embrace and pining his hands to his chest, “Don’t get yourself all worked up before the race. We don’t have enough time.”

“Oh, there’s always time for this.” Lando wrestled out of your grip, way too easily you’ll admit and resumed his hold on your waist, seizing your lips in a deep kiss.

It took your breath away momentarily but you quickly snapped back to reality and slung your arms over his shoulders, bringing him closer again. He was warm to the touch, the skin on the nape of his neck sizzling under your fingertips, curls tangled from the humidity. Lando wasn’t fucking around when his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, splitting your lips and deepening the kiss even more. There wasn’t much you loved more than kissing him, wrestling each other for dominance through soft moans. The rush of blood between your thighs indicated that this was all a little bit too steamy for a pre-race catch up and you reluctantly pulled away, lips ghosting over his as you both caught your breath.

“You were right – I’m really fucking hard now,” Lando winked and brushed his fingers through his messy curls with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved his chest, putting as much distance as you could between you in the tight confines.

“Zero self-control,” You playfully scolded and readjusted your trench as Lando stepped forward and straightened your collar, “But I can’t really talk because you look insanely sexy in this…” You tugged on the race suit hanging on his hips, wishing you could peel it off his body – right here, right now.

“Oh, really?” He taunted, “How sexy?”

“Like, bend me over this desk and fuck me sexy,” You stated bluntly and Lando threw his head back with a groan before rushing you with another kiss.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how desperate he was, hands friskily roaming your backside before he pulled himself away and grasped your face between his hands, “How I can simultaneously love you and hate you baffles me.”

Lando’s eyes were sincere, soft and mesmerized. You bit down on your lip, hiding the smile tugging on the corners of your mouth while you thought of a response worthy of his words. Of course you felt the same way but there was always something stopping you from saying it back. I love you too being the response Lando was looking for, pleading for. He’d said it so many times without hesitation, receiving a kiss or some kind of diversion every single time.

And it was killing him.

“I am a woman of many mysteries, my dear.”

Like a dagger to the heart.

“That is very true.” Lando averted his eyes from yours and brushed himself off, pulling the race suit over his shoulders and zipping it up. He was smiling and you breathed a sigh of relief, reassured that you hadn’t upset him before the race. At least that’s what you thought. Lando’s mind however, was racing – so many fears eating him up inside but he needed to focus on the challenge ahead.

And that’s what he did for the next three hours. Raced the wheels off that papaya car like his life depended on it, his sole focus was getting it over the checkered flag and having a respectable race after weeks of struggling to secure points. 

“That’s P4, Lando – great race, mate.”

Lando cheering into his radio and thanking his team had you beaming with pride. He’d been doing it tough these past few races so finishing in the top five at his home race was exactly the kind of confidence boost he needed. It was a long season after all and he needed keep his spirits up – something that you were more than happy to help with.

“You were an absolute killer out there!” You enthused as your arms wrapped around Lando’s waist, pulling him into a hug with a contented smile. He immediately nuzzled into your neck and sighed, squeezing your shoulders in his embrace before pulling back with a grin. “You were amazing.”

“Time to celebrate, yeah?” Lando asked, glancing over at Max who was nodding with an equally large smile before leading everyone towards the parking lot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

After rushing back to your apartment and changing into something nightclub appropriate, Max texted Lando the address for the place you would all be going to. A few of the other drivers had been invited, George Russell being the only one you’d been introduced to and all of Lando’s high school mates who had come along to the race. You knew from the second you stepped into the claustrophobic club that you’d be looking for a familiar face to latch onto, fully aware that your safety blanket would be pulled in every possible direction – and that’s exactly what happened.

You found yourself sitting alone in a small booth at the back of the club, watching Lando laughing along with his friends, smile lines more present now than you’d ever seen. The condensation on your glass had seeped down onto the table, a perfect excuse to distract you from the sickly pit forming in your stomach as you watched girl after girl attempt to make their move. It was a weird feeling – far from jealously. Guilt. A sense of shame rippled through your body as you watched him politely excuse himself and search the dance floor for you. I’m just going to the bathroom, you’d told him nearly twenty minutes ago. A little white lie to slip away but now, here you were, hiding from the man who loved you. Guilt-ridden.

“Can I sit?” You heard a loud voice ask, startling you out of your thoughts and into his chocolate brown eyes that were glistening under the dim lighting. Carlos Sainz.

“Of course. Congratulations on your win… you must be buzzing,” You leaned forward with praise, hoping he heard you over the loud music blasting through the speakers above.

He smiled in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his cocktail, “Ay, yes. Very happy but what makes me happier is to see little Lando so happy – he speaks of you a lot, you know? Doesn’t shut up sometimes…” Carlos trailed off with a knowing smirk, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows. He was tipsy.

“I’m sure he’ll hate you telling me that.” You returned the smile and grasped your glass for stability. There was something about what Carlos had said that made you nervous, pressured somehow when all he was doing was teasing his friend.

“I don’t get to make fun too much with him – so serious all the time but no,” Carlos mumbled, trying to keep track of his sentence, “Very happy he has found you.”

A couple of beats passed before you opened your mouth to speak but as you did, you felt a hand snake across your shoulder, sending a jolt down your spine before you turned to see who the hand belonged to. “Sneaking off with Sainz already? I thought you’d at least wait a couple of hours before leaving me for him.”

Lando was teasing and you knew that but Carlos in his drunken state waved his hands around like a madman, assuring his younger friend that he would do no such thing, to which Lando just snickered and brushed him off. She is beautiful though, Carlos loudly whispered, Lando's eyes catching yours as the Spaniard launched himself into his arms. It was comical and sweet the way the two of them stood there, silently hugging before Lando managed to escape his friends grip, slipping away as if nothing had happened and immediately meeting your eyes again.

“Wanna get out of here?” He mouthed; memories flashing back to the first time those words were muttered between the two of you – sparking this whole whirlwind romance. Of course you nodded, needing some fresh air and a new perspective, hoping the cloud of doubts swirling around in your subconscious for most of the night, and month, would just disappear.

The two of you hadn’t even made it through your front door before Lando’s hands were roaming your skin, fingertips leaving chills as they explored your body. You hadn’t had much to drink; a cocktail and a glass of bubbly in hospitality hours ago and Lando was the same – leaving the drinking to his mates like most of his nights out on the town. He wanted to have a clear mind for when he found himself alone with you, completely focused on the task at hand and soaking in every little detail so he could take that with him next weekend when he couldn’t roll over and have you whenever he felt like it. He hated leaving you like that – deprived of his touch.

“I don’t need foreplay,” You moaned into his mouth, breathless and needy as you straddled his lap – slowly grinding down and working you both into a whining mess. Lando had managed to lure you to the bedroom, mumbling something along the lines of your dog watching us fuck is a mood killer and you couldn't contest that. He loved taking you on the couch, hearing your screams echoing off the concrete walls downstairs but not tonight.

“That turned on for me, huh? Barely even touched you,” Lando teased while you lined him up, eyes never leaving his as you slid down and took every inch of him with ease. You nodded in response and leaned back, fingernails digging deep into his tensed thighs as you rocked back and forth, setting the pace and finding that angle that had you aching with pleasure.

“That’s feeling un-fucking-believable for me, baby. Holy shit…” Lando gasped, fingertips deeply entrenched in the skin on your hips, rolling them back and forward between his rough palms.

Eyes closed and bottom lip securely clenched between your front teeth suppressed the amount of pleasure you were feeling as he stretched you out, meeting your thrusts with a growl as you rode him. Lando struggled with relinquishing control, always wanting to be the one giving it to you on a silver platter, either missionary or hitting it from behind. And you loved that but you felt greedy for always being the lazy one, and after a long weekend, the least you could do was take some of the load off the gorgeous man whimpering below you. Begging you to come with him.

“I’ve been so pent up today, seeing you in that fucking dress and having you grinding up on me in the club. I nearly exploded in my fucking pants and right now, you feel so tight – so warm and I can’t hold on when you move like that… Jesus Christ,” Lando muttered and groaned, throwing his head back into your soft linen pillows, chuckling at how good you felt wrapped around his throbbing cock, clenching every time you bottomed out.

Lando lifted his head from the pillows he was buried in and licked the pad of his thumb before brushing it over your swollen clit and setting the bundle of nerves alight. He needed you to be where he was; desperately chasing your high and he could tell you weren’t quite there yet until he heard it – the tell tale sign that you were feeling as good as he was. It was a low moan, unlike any other sound he had ever heard before and it had him grinning like a Cheshire cat when it slipped past your beautifully parted lips. Angelically flushed face scrunched up in concentration as you chased your ecstasy and blocked out all of the thoughts rushing through your head. All you could think about now was your body bursting into flames.

Your name was falling from Lando’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, mouth falling agape while he watched you start to unravel above him. His gaze was hindered by lust, vision blurry as grasped your hands that were pressed down on his perspiring chest, heart beating wildly under the taut skin. You could feel it thrumming against your palms, matching your pulse as you let the knot in the pit of your stomach detonate, pussy fluttering as your high hit with ferocity. Give it to me, you chanted over and over until you felt him filling you up, spilling out and giving you every drop you were desperately begging for. 

"Fucking take it, baby. Take it all," Lando growled as you slowed your movements, sensitivity now making every stroke more and more unbearable – so much so that he had to still your hips while he composed himself, eyes closed and tongue licking his chapped lips.

You leaned down and kissed them, still warming his cock but knowing you needed to get up – the pain in your thighs urging you to stretch before you started cramping from straddling his lap for so long. There was something different in the way Lando looked at you as you got up from the bed. It was hard to decipher; several shades of emotions spread across his face, ones that he couldn’t quite express in the way he wanted. And one’s you maybe didn’t want to hear.

“What’s that look?”

Curiosity got the better of you.

But deep down there was a part of you that knew that look anywhere – the look of complete adoration. You’d seen it so many times before, most recently with your friend Rae and her husband; both of them being wholly and utterly in love with each other, til death do they part. There was no doubt in your mind that they were soul mates, destined to be together for the rest of their lives, living a full life in each other’s company. What they had was a happily ever after kind of love.

Lando propped his back up against your bedhead and smiled to himself as you slipped under the sheets beside him, “I was just thinking about how fucking perfect you are and that I’ve never felt like this before. Ever.”

But his face dropped when you looked away from him, avoiding his eye contact. “You know, you do that every time I say something like that.”

You sighed and reluctantly captured his gaze again, “Do what?”

“Look away from me, like you don’t want to admit to your feelings. Because I know you have them – I feel them every time you kiss me, every time you touch me and it’s different with you… You’re special to me. I think you might actually be–”

Without even thinking, your fingertips flew to Lando’s lips and stopped him mid sentence. You didn’t know what came over you – maybe panic, trying your best to mitigate the damages that you knew were inevitably going to come. It pained you to do it and it hurt even more when Lando’s dark blue eyes widened, as if a crushing weight had just come down and pummelled his spirit.

“Don’t say it.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Lando chuckled against your fingertips and through the pain, reaching up and tracing his thumb across your jawline with a strained smile, “Please let me finish.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” His voice was stronger, stare narrowed in faux confusion. He knew what was coming, he wasn’t entirely oblivious, but he had to play dumb; act like what you were about to say was the most ludicrous thing he’d ever heard and convince you that whatever had you worried, he could fix.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew that he had sensed your wavering, the diversions every time he proclaimed how much he cared about you, the little gestures of affection that left you awkwardly speechless. It wasn’t because you couldn’t express your feelings, hell, you were a grown ass woman and it wasn’t because you didn’t love him because deep down there was a part of you that did. And maybe in some alternate universe where you weren’t in your thirties and he wasn’t a young, hotshot driver, you could’ve waited for everything to fall into place. But that wasn’t your situation. It was complicated – too much so.

“You know why…”

He wasn’t expecting the tables to be turned back on him so quickly. But the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks; of course you knew. Of course you could see right through him, like a ghost – you’d done that since the second he laid eyes on you, read him like an open book even when he thought he was being slick, as if you hadn’t experienced all of this before. He hated that you were two steps ahead with him always on the back foot and playing catch up. He should’ve known better than to call your bluff, putting on a brave face when all he wanted to do was rewind and follow your lead. Take it slow. Easy does it. Don’t scare her off.

But he loved you; Lando couldn’t hide that. You were different. You were special. You were everything he could’ve asked for and now he could feel you slipping away.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispered; head titled and voice meek, unsteady. The façade had finally fallen, all cards laid out on the table for all to see. You couldn’t look at him after those words left his mouth, chills surging down your spine. The room was dark, lit only by the hallway light seeping through the open door but you could see him clear as day; shattering into tiny pieces and simultaneously trying to pick them up as they fell to the floor.

“You can’t do this – not now. We’re just starting to get into a rhythm. You said you wanted this and I thought it was going well, like, you are enjoying this, right? What’s changed?” He was desperate now, clutching at every straw in the pack, searching for answers while you sat silently, mustering up the energy to tell him the cold hard truth.

You sighed and grasped his hand, shaking as you interlaced your fingers. It was selfish to want him close while you broke his heart but you were hurting too; gut-wrenched and guilt ridden that you’d allowed it to go on for this long. Four months of pure bliss masked your reality, blinders shielding you from the truth.

“I guess tonight I realised how much you have left to experience and I can’t hold you back from all of that… You should’ve been dancing with those girls tonight, living it up while you still can, you know?”

“Frankly, I don’t.” Lando scoffed, shaking his head fervently, “Who do you think I am? Fuckin’... Joey Essex or something? I’m not a player. I’m not some guy who fucks around for the sake of it. If that’s who you think I am, then fuck me. You don’t know me at all, baby.” His voice was venomous with a hint of amusement and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

Because he was right.

“Okay so maybe you’re not Joey Essex,” You rolled your eyes, “But you’re young! And hot and rich and famous and… There’s so much more out there for you than settling for this. For me.”

“But I want you.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“I know that I’m in love with you.”

“You don’t know what love is.”

The longer the back and forth went on, the more nauseous you were becoming – whiplashed by words. You didn’t want to fight with him but he was adamant to fight for you, to convince you to forget about it for tonight. But your accusation that he didn’t know what love meant cut deep, slicing through his heart and belittling everything he’d done for you, how he felt about you. Undermining what you have together.

“Don’t treat me like a child. You don’t treat me like that when I’m making you scream my name or when you’re begging me to fuck you. So why are you doing it now?!” His voice was raised, teetering on the edge of a full-blown screaming match.

“Because I’ve been lying to myself! Telling myself that this was okay, that maybe we could make it work because you were so sweet, so charming. And I love what we’ve done together; you’ve made me feel alive again. But I’ve taken enough from you – you deserve more. And I deserve more – someone who isn’t away seven months out of the year; someone to start a family with and I can’t do that with you.”

A single tear silently rolled down your cheek and you hadn’t even realised that Lando was frozen in place, watching his world crumbling in around him. He wished he had the right words, prayed to a higher power to give him the words that would ease your mind and forget about the future until you realised you couldn’t live without him. But he wasn’t that lucky, not today, not ever – he just had to hold his ground and fight.

“I know that you’ve been in more relationships than me and I know that you’ve been fucked over more times than you deserve. One is too many since you are the single most beautiful person I have ever met.” Lando’s voice was low and faltering as he spoke, tears now prickling the corners of his eyes.

“But I want those things with you, maybe not right now but I see a future with you – I really fucking do. And I’ve tried to be that guy for you every single day since the moment we met but you haven’t let me. I want to be the guy you call in the middle of the night when you can't sleep – someone you can rely on. I’ll be the man you need me to be, I swear. Give me a chance to show you.”

Silence filled the dark room, distant sirens outside your window took some of the edge off but the tension was thick – suffocating as you threw the duvet off your legs, suddenly feeling like your chest was on fire, flushed red. You blinked a couple of times before burying your head in your hands, raking fingers through your tangled hair. There were no more tears, just unfiltered emotion running rampant in your mind, weighing up everything that had been said – figuring out where that left you. But like in the weeks leading up to this moment, you found yourself back at the same place every time. Broken.

And nothing could change the way you feel.

“Your future is my present, Lando. And I hate this – I don’t want this to be the end but I don’t have time and you have so much living left to do. I know that you can’t see that now but I promise you that I’m right. I promise you that you will forget about me and find someone worthy of your love, someone who can wait for you to be ready for all the things you want out of life – someone to share the journey with because I’ve missed all of that and if I could turn the clock back and start again with you, I would do it in a heartbeat because you are so much more than I could’ve ever asked for. But life is cruel and I can’t take those years away from you, I can't.”

There was an eerily long pause before Lando spoke, time really feeling like the burden it had always been.

“You’re right – I don’t understand.”

You wanted to shake him, make him believe your words more than anything but you remembered what you would’ve thought at twenty-three. Wide eyed and naïve, hearing the person you loved telling you that your feelings weren’t real and you hated to think that he would resent you for all of this; but of course he would. Why wouldn’t he?

“But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” Not yet, you thought.

“I know it doesn’t,” You barely whispered as Lando stood up to pull on his boxer briefs from the floor, feeling vulnerable and exposed, physically and emotionally.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, solemn and quiet. Eyes hooded with fatigue as he gazed down at you in bed, arms limp at his sides while he waited for your answer; bated breath rushing through his lungs, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

You shook your head and gently patted the spot he’d left beside you. It was barely warm as your fingertips brushed over the white sheet, a subtle reminder of what it would feel like without him there, out of your life. Maybe it was immoral to tempt him back into your bed and it was definitely wrong to let him kiss you, to touch you, to make love to you until the sun came up. But the way he stared into your soul as he rested his weary head on your pillow, eyes pleading with you for one last memory together, you couldn’t refuse him that. You couldn’t deny him the closure he needed, if that was even something you could give.

One of the several alarms on your phone jolted you awake, the jingle making your stomach flip as you reached over and silenced it with a huff. Your head was thumping, eyes sealed shut with sleep, mind numbed and an ache between your thighs that reminded you of the events that transpired last night. You could be easily forgiven for the pang of regret coursing through your body as you remembered the words that were said in the heat of the moment. For pushing away the only good thing in your life at present.

A cold shiver travelling down your spine sent you on a mission to find that good thing, your hand reaching for the warm body you’d become so accustomed to feeling beside you.

But when you turned over, he wasn’t there – his side was cold, wrinkled. Empty.

You sat up in disbelief, eyes searching the room for any signs of life besides you. Lando? You called out and wrapped yourself up in a robe, thinking that maybe he was downstairs making a cup of tea or watching TV. For some reason, you hadn’t even considered the obvious as you walked around your apartment, looking in the kitchen and the courtyard, phone in your hand.

Maybe the harsh reality was too hard to stomach, too hard to comprehend. In hindsight it didn't seem that unbelievable, that for Lando, waking up next to you knowing it would probably be the last time he ever saw you was a painful memory he would rather not have locked away in his subconscious for the rest of his life.

And once reality hit, you stopped in your tracks. Stood still in your cold, lonely apartment once again. Tears streamed down your face when you came to grips with your own self-inflicted pain. Lando was gone. You knew it was for the best, better for both of you and in time that would become clearer; easier to bear. But what killed you the most was that there was no way of knowing if he was happier now than he was with you because you never heard from him again. Not a knock on your door, not even a drunken text. And you deserved that. You had no right to his life from that day on.

But all of the late nights, the stories, the deep, dark secrets and the whispered sweet nothings you had shared together haunted you for years, even after you married the love of your life.

Forever left wondering, what could’ve been?

a/n - i promise that i'll do happier lando fics in the near future but i hope you enjoyed this series and thank you again for all the support on it x lots of love! thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing if you liked this x

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Coming To An Understanding #2

Previous

“You got any plans for Saturday?” you ask, digging in your bag for your phone to show Melissa the lunch menu for the new place you’d found online.

“I got a thing,” comes the snapped reply.

You frown, not used to this sort of reply from her.  “Okaaay…like an all day thing or..?”

“Just a thing, okay?” she says without looking at you.

You shrug, not willing to fight over nothing.  “Fine.  You mind if I invite Jacob over to mine and we watch the Mandalorian then?”

“Do what you want,” she says making a vague gesture with her hands, still refusing to look at you. 

Pulling out your phone, you leave the tab for the restaurant open, but instead open up your messages, doing your best to distract yourself from the red head’s snippy mood.  Part of you wants to press further and ask what’s got her being so short with you, but you quickly decide whatever it is, you don’t need to pry.  If she has a thing she wants to keep private, then that’s up to her.  If she wants to tell you, she’ll tell you, but until then there’s always that level of Match 3D on your phone you could never get past. 

*

In bed that night at your apartment, you still haven’t got past that damn level of Match 3D and at this point, you’re starting to doubt you ever will.  To stop yourself throwing your phone across the room you’d swapped your phone for your book, letting yourself get lost in another world for a while.

You’re so engrossed that you almost miss Melissa setting down her own phone with a sigh.

“I’m going to the hair salon on Saturday,” she says quietly.  “Getting a few touch ups.”

Looking up at her, you smile.  “Okay.  You want me to meet you after?  Or we could maybe do breakfast beforehand if your appointment isn’t too early?”

She just looks at you, as though waiting for something.

“What?  You want me to be shocked?” you ask, putting down your book and turning to look at her properly.  “I know the rug doesn’t match the drapes, Lissa.”

At this, she rolls her eyes, letting out a huff.

“Are you getting something different done?”

“No,” she answers quickly.  Almost too quickly.  “Just touch ups,” she adds rather defensively, before looking away, fiddling with the blankets.  “Why, would you prefer I changed it?”

“Melissa, you know I’d love you no matter what colour your hair was, right?” you ask, waiting until she meets your eyes before continuing.  “I mean, do I think the red is hot?  Yeah.  But it’s hot because it’s on you.  If you wanted to go blonde, brunette, hell green, it wouldn’t change anything.  I want you to do what you want.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment.  “Even if I didn’t dye it at all?”

That’s when you see it; the hesitation, the worry.  “Have you seen Paget Brewster lately?” you joke, knowing she’d made fun of your reaction to the new look a certain Emily Prentiss was sporting.  “I think you’d rock whatever look you decided to go for.  And I’d love you all the same.”

You look down as you feel her toy with one of your rings.  “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

She lets out a sigh.  “I know you know how old I am, but I just…well it just felt easier to keep that kinda stuff behind the scenes.”

“Stay here,” you tell her, clambering out of bed and heading for the bathroom.  Grabbing the couple of boxes of hair dye from under the sink, you sit on the edge of the bed.  “You think mine is natural?  I pick whatever colour is on sale and takes my fancy that day.”

“Well, there ain’t exactly much down there to compare it to,” she smirks.  “Wait, you don’t even use the same colour?”

You can’t help but laugh.  “Like you’ve never noticed it’s been about twenty different shades, none of them exactly natural, since we met?”  You gather up the boxes of hair dye, moving to return them to the bathroom.  “You can even pick the colour next time if you want.  Though full disclosure, I’m working on a totally natural Cruella De Ville stripe and when that comes in properly it’s getting left well alone.”

You hear her chuckle from the bathroom and when you return to bed, she’s put her phone away and has already turned off the bedside light.  She opens her arms to you, letting you cuddle in close.

“Sorry I was snarky earlier,” she says softly in the darkness.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you reply.  “Thank you for telling me though.”

“Thank you for putting up with me,” she says finally after a long pause.

Pressing a kiss to the closest patch of skin you can find, you tighten the arm around her waist.  “You got the rough end of that deal being landed with me,” you say, smiling as you feel her press a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Next

[venus-haze]

Dating Starlight Headcanons (F!Reader)

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request. I’m so glad I got to write for Starlight again! Do not interact if you're under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Mentions of sexually explicit content. Do not interact if you're under 18.

• Asking you out was one of the most nerve-wracking things Annie ever did, considering how she was raised and her position as part of The Seven, but that didn’t compare to how great she felt when you said yes

• Annie’s so supportive of you, and she especially appreciates if you’re supportive of her, no strings attached. She’s spent most of her life doing things that other people wanted her to do, so knowing you’re in her corner no matter what means a lot to her

• If you want to go public with your relationship, she’s initially hesitant, not because she’s ashamed, but because of the danger it’d put you in and how awful Vought can be. She’s willing to fight for you, though, and especially push back on any bullshit that the marketing team may try to push

• Y’all will end up having to stand on Vought’s float at New York Pride, it’s a little cringy but kinda sweet too

• Also you’re Annie’s date to any Vought event! Investor gala, fundraising dinner, movie premiere, you’re there. She feels a lot more comfortable when she knows you’re around, plus it’s an excuse to see you in gorgeous dresses. She’s definitely gotten distracted by you in the middle of a conversation before

• You and Annie do pretty much everything together, road trips and concerts and movie nights! She especially loves road trips because y’all get to spend so much time together and just talk and eat junk food and stop to see weird attractions on the way to your destination

• Y’all constantly make each other playlists and send all kinds of posts and videos throughout the day that made you think of each other

• She’s also big on video calling you when she knows it’s going to be a long day and she won’t get to see you for a while

• You know how tough Annie’s job can be, and sometimes she comes over to your place frustrated and exhausted, and being the incredible girlfriend you are, you make sure she’s comfortable on your bed and go down on her, teasing a bit just to bring that pent up frustration to the surface before making her fall apart on your tongue

• She made the power in your building go out when she came once. You haven’t let her live it down

• Annie definitely returns the favor, and she’s willing to top if you’re not comfortable with topping or in the mood to do it. She’d never admit it, but she likes the control it gives her when she feels like she’s constantly being undermined by both Vought and The Boys (and also using a Starlight-themed strap-on that’s definitely not Vought-approved gives her a bit of an ego boost)

• Loves giving and receiving praise! She loves you so much and never wants you to feel anything but absolutely safe with her. After everything she’s been through, hearing you praise her definitely makes her feel safe with and appreciated by you too

• Sometimes it can be tough going on dates in public because every now and then people recognize her, even if she’s not in her Starlight costume. She tries to balance being gracious to fans while also being respectful of your time and privacy but like, you get it, she’s part of the most visible superhero team in the world

• You inevitably get wrapped up in The Boys’ various plans despite Annie trying to keep you separate because of how dangerous it is. You’re cool with everyone and help how you can, but whenever Butcher’s mean to Annie you tell him off and she gets kinda flustered at you standing up for her. It’s really cute🤭

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 7 **

You might want to put aside some time for this, I somehow managed to write 10k...and the second half is like all smut, almost.

Took me a while to get this out, it was kinda meant to be a filler chapter but then I wanted to add more so I ended up moving things around in the story line so now we've got this one. Next chapter will see their relationship move forward with leaps and bounds and then we get into the really juicy bits!

Please enjoy and if you do, please reblog so that more people see the fic, I'll love you always if you do

If wanna catch up from the beginning, here is chapter 1 of The Pilot and his girl

Chapter 8

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer

Sometimes you think back on other guys you’ve dated. The guy who wanted to be able to call you up whenever he wanted sex and always got mad when you weren’t around to supply, the college guy who never wanted to touch you in public, the older guy who ‘forgot’ to mention his wife and two year old son, the guy who cheated on you and then messaged all your friends and told them he’d dumped you because you’d cheated on him with his boss. And that didn’t even cover all the ‘normal’ guys who just wanted to play the game, date and have sex but never commit or say what they actually felt or introduce you to their friends or family. 

And then there was Frankie Morales. Sweet, loving, loyal Frankie who never seemed to hide what he was thinking or wanted to play games. Who never made it difficult or made you guess what he felt or what his intentions were. He was just always happy to be with you, to see you and to let the world around you know that he belonged to you and no one else. Who would kiss you in public just because he felt like it, took your hand as soon as you were near, and never hesitated to include you in his plans. Being with Frankie was easy and you finally started to understand that dating someone shouldn’t be non-stop drama, it should be easy and that’s how you knew it was right. 

And Frankie slipped into your life as easily as he let you slip into his. After your first few dates he made it clear that he would happily spend as much time as he could with you, the only other priority in his life being his daughter and you happily took a back seat to her. Frankie was always a bit low when he came back from seeing her, or she’d spent a weekend with him, his guilty conscience about not seeing her enough always on his mind. But he was also full of stories about her, his eyes beaming, a wide, proud, smile on his face, as he told you about what they’d done, the things she’d said and how much she’d grown or what new skills she’d learnt. She was the centre of his universe and you didn’t mind, she grounded him and made him happy and a better man. Both for her and for you. 

When Frankie wasn’t working or went to see Lucía, your weekends were spent mostly in each other’s company. He’d pick you up on Friday evening and take you out ‘properly’, as he said. He’d show up in his truck, freshly showered after work and in a clean shirt. If he’d ditched the cap you knew he’d made plans for a more upscale restaurant. If the cap was firmly pressed down over his, still very, unruly curls, you knew he was taking you on one of his special Frankie dates. 

The first time you’d expected maybe a cool food truck or local BBQ place when he said he’d made ‘special plans’, your expectations from previous guys were not exactly high. But instead he’d taken you to a secluded spot up on a hill, parking the truck and walking with you through the forest on a small path until the trees fell away to a cliff overlooking a lake. Stuck into the ground was a small sign that read “Reserved - Morales” that made you giggle at the thought that he’d hiked up here earlier, just to place the sign. Frankie had then produced a thick blanket from his backpack, a lantern, a camping stove, various containers and bottles and proceeded to cook you dinner while the sun set behind the forest on the other side of the lake. When dinner was done with, and you’d expressed your deep astonishment at how romantic he was, Frankie blushing to the tips of his ears, he’d wrapped you both in the blanket and leaned back against a rock with you tucked in against his chest. 

“You’re setting the bar very high for all the other guys, Francisco Morales,” you hum as you feel the cool tip of his nose brush against your cheek. 

“What other guys, hermosa?” he mutters, lightly kissing the tip of your ear. 

“All the other guys in general,” you lean into his warm lips skating along your neck, “once word gets out this is how Frankie Morales treats women, who’s gonna want a regular guy?” 

Frankie chuckles quietly, his rich, warm voice close to your ear. “I don’t treat women like this, only you, solo tu hermosa mujer.

“See, there you go again, setting the bar impossibly high,” you smile and push your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck, scratching his scalp and drawing a soft moan from him. 

When the night became too cold even for the blanket and the Frankie shaped furnace at your back, he’d held your hand as you walked back, his powerful torch shining the way through the pitch black forest. At any other time the thought of walking through a dark forest would’ve made you slightly panicky, but with Frankie’s warm hand in yours and his broad shoulders in front of you as he easily navigated the path back to his truck, you felt as safe as you did at home in your bed. 

It was easy, being with Frankie was the easiest thing of them all. 

…

You woke up with a groan on Sunday morning, six weeks or so into dating Frankie. You’d been out the night before with friends and now you were paying the price; dry mouth, headache and that horrible shaky feeling as you moved your limbs. You were definitely never, ever drinking again. You were in Frankie’s bed but he was absent so with a groan you pushed the covers aside and sat up carefully. 

As you sat on the side of the bed, contemplating death, you heard Frankie’s bare feet coming down the hall, pushing open the door. 

“Morning, my little ‘I’m not drunk’ girl,” he smiled, far too cheerful and you groaned again and fell back into bed, pulling the covers with you as Frankie chuckled. 

“Just stay in bed, hermosa, I’ll get you some water and coffee, and breakfast whenever you feel up for it.” 

“Thank you,” you mumble from under the covers. 

“Anything for you, I love you,” he says as he bends and kisses the covers over your head. 

Oh yeah, you said that last night too.

…

Towards the end of your night you’d met up with Frankie and his friends at a bar. Your friends  were heading home, and you probably should’ve done the same, but you wanted to see Frankie and you’d promised to call him before you went home. He was the designated driver for the evening, as most evenings. Frankie didn’t like tempting fate with too much alcohol after he got clean from the coke. 

“Mi hermosa, hi,” came his warm, smiling voice over the phone when he picked up, and you immediately heard someone shush loudly in the background. 

“Sssshhhhh, everyone, ssssshhhhh, it’s the girlfriend, sssshhhhh!” The drunken voice of Benny was easily recognisable in the background.  

“Hi Frankie boy,” you cooed, definitely a little bit more than tipsy, “and hi Benny,” you giggled. 

“Tell her to come here,” Benny’s voice was suddenly very close, “I need her as my wing woman!”

“Benny, for fuck’s sake!” It sounded like Frankie had to pull his phone away from his friend as he shuffled away from the table they were all at, chairs scraping across a floor. 

“Sounds like Benny’s a little bit drunk, baby,” you give him a tipsy giggled again. 

“Sounds like you’re a little bit drunk too, cariño,” Frankie chuckles. “Do you wanna come over, we’re at the usual place.” 

“Only if you want me to, I don’t want to crash boy’s night.”

“You should definitely come over, I wanna see you this drunk,” he laughs as you protest and claim to be only slightly tipsy. “Get yourself in an Uber, and send me the details so I know when you get here.” 

“Ok, Frankie boy, always so responsible,” you pout and give him a salute before you remember he can’t actually see you through the phone. 

“Just be safe, hermosa,” he smiles before he hangs up. 

He’s waiting outside for you when the Uber pulls up, opening the door of the car and giving you a hand as you step out. 

“Hi sweetie,” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck, stumbling slightly on the curb, as Frankie catches you around the middle. 

“Hey there, not drunk girl,” he smiles down at you and accepts your wet kiss to his lips with a chuckle. “How’s your night been?” 

“S’been good, everybody came, even Hannah who always cancels because her kids are sick.” you say as Frankie guides you towards the door of the bar. “And we got free drinks from a bunch of guys who were trying to hit on us, but their loss, because we’re all taken,” You pull him close and place a kiss on his cheek, “You’re my Frankie boy.”  

“Did you accept their drinks?” Frankie’s got a worried look in his eyes that you don’t notice as you shrug your jacket off as the heat of the room hits you.” 

“Yeah, sure! It was free drinks. It’s not like they were gonna get anything in return.” 

“Cariño, you shouldn’t accept drinks from random men in bars, what if they slip something in it? You’ve got to be careful.” He’s got his arm around your waist, walking you towards the table where the guys are. 

“Wait,” you stop halfway across the bar, poking his chest with your finger, “you were gonna buy me a drink when we met, are you saying I shouldn’t have accepted that?” 

“Uh…I mean…” Frankie flounders, “technically, I guess, no?” 

“You’re so cute when you blush, sweet Francisco,” you gush, wrapping your arms around his neck again and standing on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose, “I know I shouldn’t accept drinks from random guys, baby. But free drinks!” you grin again and Frankie can’t help but chuckle when he sees your delighted grin. 

“My tipsy girl,” he smiles, “we should get some food in you.” 

“Nachos!” you exclaim as Frankie puts his hand on your back and ushers you towards the table and the guys again. 

Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as Frankie pulls out a chair for you, and Will gives you a grin from across the table. 

“Hey, there she is!” Benny whoops as you sink down on the chair, “My wing woman!” He attempts to high five you but you’re too focused on telling Frankie you want the biggest serving of nachos they’ve got, and Benny’s hand slaps down on your shoulder instead, making you jump. 

“Jeez, Benny, calm down,” Frankie scowls and knocks his hand off your shoulder. “I’m getting nachos for the drunk girl, anyone else want anything?” he asks. 

“Nachos and drinks, if you’re offering,” Pope says and Frankie nods, heading back towards the bar. 

“I’m really not drunk, just a little bit tipsy,” you tell the three guys as Frankie walks off. “He’s being very overprotective.” 

“I heard that,” Frankie calls from over his shoulder, making you giggle loudly and snort.

“Well, you’re in good company here,” Will nods at Benny who’s slightly red eyed appearance betrays that he’s by far the furthest one gone at the table. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Benny taps your arm excitedly, looking at a table towards the back of the bar, not paying attention to his brother, “Can you help me get that blonde over there? Like, walk over to her or something and tell her I’m great in bed and she should totally let me buy her a drink.” 

“What Benny?! No!” you protest, “I’m not lying to some poor woman, I don’t even know if you’re good in bed.” You give Benny a slightly unfocused once over, “Are you any good in bed?”  

“I’m totally good in bed!” he insists, “I’d prove it but you know…Fish would literally kill me dead.” 

“Ewww!” you exclaim, sending Pope and Will into a laughing fit as Benny blinks, trying to figure out if he should be insulted or not. “Sorry! That came out wrong!” you grab on to his arm, “I mean, you’re cute and all but just not my type, I like - “

“We know what you like,” Pope interrupts with a grin, “you like ‘em dark haired, brown eyed and tanned.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you snort out a laugh. 

“I mean, I can’t deny that, but I like my men taller and with less body hair, Santi,” you smirk and Pope tries to look insulted. 

“Ouch, going after my height, evil woman,” he huffs, but he’s still laughing. 

“You got the right one then,” Will chuckles, “Frankie’s got less body hair than a hairless cat.” 

“Why the fuck are you talking about my body hair?” Frankie says, coming back to the table, sending Benny and you into a laughing fit and Will just waving his hand. 

“Forget it man, not important.” 

Frankie raises his eyebrows and gives his head a slight shake as he sets down the nachos and drinks for the table, although you’re also getting a large glass of water. 

“Are you riling them up, cariño?” he asks, smiling down at you as you try to pull him down for a kiss that he willingly gives, your lips tasting of tequila and wine, oh, you’ll be hungover for sure in the morning. 

“I’m innocent,” you smirk, looking anything but and Frankie chuckles. 

“Move, baby, sit on my lap, there’s no extra chair.” 

You happily oblige, sitting sideways across Frankie’s lap, his warm arm around your waist, holding you tight. 

Nachos and beers are soon gone and Pope gets everyone a new round, getting Frankie a Coke that he tries to make you drink instead of the beer Pope got you, but not having much success. Benny’s trying his luck with the blonde across the room and Will and Pope decide to shoot some pool while you and Frankie watch from the table. Despite there being several empty chairs now you stay on Frankie’s lap, his legs are slowly falling asleep but he won’t make you move, he’s got you tight against his body, and your arm is draped across his shoulder, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the curls around his neck at the edge of his cap. He hums contentedly as your nails scratch his scalp and you feel the rumble in his chest. Looking down you see his eyes slip closed, he always has trouble keeping them open when you play with his hair. He’s not asleep but his muscles relax and his head slumps forward, leaning against you. 

Gently you pull his cap off so that you can run your fingers through more of his hair, Frankie mutters his consent and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, warm through the thin fabric of your top. His soft curls slip under your fingers as you run them through his hair, the buzz of alcohol in your system making you sleepy, Frankie’s warm body making you feel safe and content. You bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head and with your lips still close to his hair it slips out.

“I love you.” 

Frankie’s eyes snap open and he pulls back from your chest, looking up at you, searching your eyes to see if you mean it or if you’re just too drunk. 

“What did you say, hermosa?” he asks softly as you look down at him, a small, uncertain smile on your lips. 

“I’m sorry…” you waver, “it just slipped out, it’s too soon and I’m drunk and it’s -” 

“I love you, I love you too,” Frankie interrupts, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he pulls your lips to his, “don’t be sorry,” he mumbles against your mouth, “I would’ve said it weeks ago if I had the guts.” 

His hand slips behind your neck, holding you to his lips, as you wrap your arms around him. His heart is racing, he can feel your smile against his mouth as you press yourself against him and it feels like millions of tiny bubbles are gathering inside his chest, pushing up through his throat and making him grin like a fool against your soft lips. The kiss turns sloppy as you both start to giggle, foreheads leaning together, you look into his warm, brown eyes that are crinkling at the corners. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you say, still smiling so wide you feel like your face is splitting but happy tears are threatening to spill out. The way Frankie is looking at you makes you feel like he just wrapped you up in a blanket, tucked you against his chest and enveloped you with his love, making you his axis point. 

“I love you too, hermosa,” he replies, “I love you so fucking much, I wanted to tell you when you took my hand after I told you about all the shit in my life, but I was scared it was too much. And when you still wanted to be with me and the first morning you woke up with me, you told me how amazing you think I am…” Frankie reaches up and strokes his thumb over your cheek, catching a tear that’s escaped from your eyes, “I almost said it then too, I really wanted to tell you then, but I chickened out..” 

“You should’ve said it all those times, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand over his, still on your cheek, “I would’ve said it back, but I thought it was too soon. I thought you’d run a mile if you knew how fast I fell for you.” 

“Not in a million years, hermosa, never.” He pulls you in, catching your lips in another kiss, slow and searing, making you part your lips so that he can taste you, despite all the alcohol. You feel his tongue, soft against your own, as he moves to kiss you deeper, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you firm against him as you hold onto his shoulders, and push your fingers into his hair. You’re in your own bubble, only you and him, and the noises of the bar fades away as you hum against his mouth, the taste of him, his tongue, overtakes your hazy mind. 

…

You stay under the covers, you can hear Frankie moving around his kitchen, making coffee. You remember him taking the guys and you home last night. The truck had been full, the guys in the back and you tucked into Frankie’s side in the front, falling asleep against his shoulder as he dropped the others off first. You vaguely remember Frankie gently scooting you out of his truck and picking you up. You’d woken up when he had to put you down to dig out his keys, his soft voice telling you to stay awake as you leaned on him. Finally he’d gotten you both into his place and he’d tucked you in under the covers of his bed, the last thing you seem to remember is him taking your shoes off. 

Now he pads back into the bedroom with a bottle of water and a large coffee. 

“Here, cariño, drink the water first.” 

“Thanks, Frankie, you’re more than I deserve, I was way too drunk last night,” you moan, gratefully taking the water bottle from him. 

“You’re a very cute drunk,” he smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed as you pull yourself up, leaning against the headboard and taking a long drink of water. 

“And I love you too,” you say, putting down the water and taking his hand, “I remember that part at least.” 

Frankie chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your palm, “I was a bit worried you’d said all those sweet things and then forget about it. 

“Never, Frankie,” you smile, “how could I? I just wish I hadn’t blurted it out when I was drunk...” 

“It was very sweet, hermosa, alcohol clearly makes you honest. I need to remember that,” he pulls you towards him with a big grin and you lean against his chest, breathing into his clean t-shirt, fresh cotton and the smell of just him underneath it. If you weren’t so hungover you’d pull him back into the bed with you, he feels good next to you, warm and solid, his little belly soft to the touch as you absentmindedly run your hand over it and listen to his heartbeat under your ear. Frankie’s hand is rubbing up and down your back and you can feel his breath against the top of your head where he's leaning his chin. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says after a little while of enjoying just sitting together in silence. The slight hesitation in his voice makes you lift your head and look up at him. He’s got that worried look in his eyes, and it makes you mirror his look, raising your eyebrows in concern as he goes on; 

“Lucía is supposed to come here next weekend, she’s staying Saturday and Sunday. And you can say no if you think it’s too much but, but I really want you to meet her, if you want?” 

“You know I’d love to meet her, Frankie” you say, sitting up so that you can look properly at him. His expressive eyebrows immediately shoot up in a relieved look. 

“I know, I just wanted to make sure,” he says, “I’ve…I’ve never…let her meet a girlfriend before and I wanna make sure you’re fine with it too.” 

“I’m absolutely fine with it, sweetie,” you rub his arm, wanting to reassure him that it really was fine. “If you want, we can start easy though, maybe? Just tell her I’m a friend of yours or something and we keep the PDA to a minimum around her?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” he agrees. “I haven’t talked to her mom yet either, it’s not like I need her permission for it or anything, but you know, just so that she hears it from me and not Lucía afterwards.” 

“I won’t stay over at your place when she’s here,” you stretch your arms up, yawning big and Frankie pushes the coffee mug into your hands with a smile. “We’ll just hang out a bit,” you say, “I don’t wanna intrude on your father - daughter time, I know you feel like you don’t see enough of her as it is.” 

“You could never intrude, cariño,” Frankie protests, “hang out with us as much as you want. Although, four year olds can be a bit rowdy so you might need to work on your stamina,” he chuckles. 

“I know how to handle four year olds,” you grin, “I just buy them the loudest toy I can find and be their new best friend.”

“That’s just evil, just pure evil,” Frankie groans, “every parent's worst nightmare, you would never.” 

“I would never do that to you, Frankie,” you smile and accept his hand as he pulls you out of the bed. “But my brother’s kids, absolutely.” 

“Remind me to never piss you off, cariño,” Frankie chuckles as you make your way into his small kitchen where he’s got breakfast laid out. 

Right from the start Frankie had claimed he couldn’t cook and his mom’s brownies was the only thing he could bake. You’d quickly figured out that the ‘can’t cook’ line was more a show of Frankie’s insecurity rather than an actual thing. And he excelled at breakfast, making both blueberry pancakes, omelettes and smoothies so good you’d rather have his breakfast for every meal of the day than anything else. The first time you had his pancakes, made from scratch and not a box mix, you’d eaten four in one go and not even felt bad about it. Frankie’s smile when you kept asking for more was worth the bloated feeling you had for the rest of the day. He admitted he’d taught himself to make them because they were Lucía’s favourite food and the thought of Frankie looking up pancake recipes online to be able to serve his daughter her favourite food made you almost teary eyed. The more you got to know him, the more you saw of his big heart and soft side, the more it became difficult to equate the man you now knew, with the man who had been in Delta Force and displayed such skill at violence in the bar that horrible night. 

There was one thing that betrayed his background though, his nightmares. Frankie said he had them less these days but there were still several nights where you’d been woken up by him thrashing around in the bed, crying out incoherently. A few times you’d been woken up by Frankie throwing himself on top of you when his sleep hazy mind thought there was a threat in the room and you had to be protected. Sweet on one level, but on those nights it took you both a long time to go back to sleep, Frankie’s adrenaline spiking high and your own heart rate going through the roof after being so brutally woken up. You were grateful that he seemed to need to hold you as close as possible on those nights, it made it easier for you to fall back asleep with his heavy arm draped across your waist or chest, pulled in so tight that you could hear his heartbeat, feel it slow down as he calmed. 

The next morning he’d wake up in a dark mood, feeling guilty about scaring you and bringing his issues into your life. You soon figured out that the best way to get him past his sullen thoughts was to pull him down on the sofa and make him lay back, resting against you. That way you could hook one arm around his broad chest, make him tip his head back on your shoulder and then scratch his scalp with your fingertips. His mind would stop racing, he would feel your heartbeat under his body and your fingers softly scraping through his curls, slowly realising that you weren’t leaving, that he wasn’t scaring you away by showing you the darker sides of himself. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m such an idiot, it’s just me and my stupid brain causing trouble,” he mumbled while your fingers worked through his hair. 

“You’re not an idiot, Frankie,” you gently admonished him, “you know why your brain gives you nightmares, you’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure, “ you press a kiss to his head and he leans towards you. 

“My sponsor always says I should tell people close to me what’s going on when I start spiralling out of control, but that’s always been the hardest thing.” 

“Why is it hard?” you ask, still brushing through his soft curls, willing him to relax against you. 

Frankie shifts under your arm, turning so that he can press his face against the side of your neck, you feel him inhale deeply as he stretches his arm across your chest and pulls you closer. 

“It took me a long time to figure this out,” he says in a low voice, “I feel like I fail when I lose control, fail my family, my friends, anyone I wanna be close to.” His voice is muffled, pressed up against you as he hides his face, “I feel guilty about failing so I don’t ask for help and then it gets worse, I fall into to bad habits and that makes me feel like more of a failure and that makes me feel even more guilty and then it just spirals out of control.”

“What do you think will happen when you tell those you love about losing control?” you ask in a soft voice. You’re leaning your cheek against his head, feeling his breath fan across your neck and chest as he draws a deep breath. 

“That you’ll leave me, see what a fuck up I am and realise I’m not worth the effort.” You can barely hear his low whisper, it cracks at the end, and your heart clenches, your hands leaving his hair as you wrap your arms tight around him, burying your face against his soft curls. 

“Never, Frankie, never.” You squeeze him, willing him to understand how much he’s come to mean to you in this short time. “I don’t know what happens in the future but I can promise you that I’ll never leave you because I think you’re not worth the effort. And don’t say that about yourself, you’ll always be worth the effort, Frankie,” you lean back, putting your hand on his chin and tilting it up so that you can look at him, his eyes are distressed, the usually soft look, pained and tight. “I’ve already told you I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known and even if you spiral out of control and your demons get the better of you, I won’t leave because I know how good you are, what a great man you are and what a great father you are to Lucía.” 

Frankie closes his eyes as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, a long breath escaping with a shudder, as if he’d been holding it in.

“I’m always scared I’ll fuck things up with her,” he says when you pull back from his lips. “How am I gonna be any kind of role model to her when this is what I’ve done with my own life?” 

“Frankie, you idiot,” you smile softly at him, and he looks confused. “You’ve had a passion for helicopters since you were a kid right?” He nods and you continue, “So you found a way to become a helicopter pilot, a very difficult profession that takes enormous dedication and skill. You then got sucked into the fucked up system of the military, and saw some horrible things. Things that any normal person would consider fucked up and have trouble processing, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess, bu- “ 

You stop him, “You didn’t get any adequate help to deal with your PTSD so you found a way to deal with it yourself. A stupid way, sure, but you had the willpower to get your shit together when it became about someone else but you, your daughter.” 

Frankie just nods, his eyebrows pulled up in that tight little knot you’ve seen so many times. 

“Don’t you get it?” you say, “you’ve already proved to her, before she was even born, that she’s the center of your universe and that you’ll do anything for her and that she can do anything she wants. All she has to do is to look at how you’ve managed to get through some of the most fucked up shit.” 

Frankie looks at you as you stroke the lines between his eyebrows with your thumb, smoothing them out. “Frankie Morales, you’re amazing, and if you keep thinking you’re not I’ll have to smack you,” you smile at him and you see the corners of his mouth twitch up, “or I’ll get Pope to smack you,” you say and Frankie smiles properly, his face changing into that soft smile you’ve always loved. He drops his head down on your chest again, his nose pressed against your throat. 

“I’d like to see him try,” he chuckles as he wraps his arm around you and pulls himself on top, looking down at you. 

“Thank you,” he says, using your real name as if to emphasize, “I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you in this one.” 

“Maybe you saved my life somehow,” you smile and stroke your thumb over the bare patch in his scruffy beard, “and now you get to have incredible sex with me as a reward.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, pulling up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe I wanna claim some of that reward right now.”

…

On Friday night, before Lucía’s coming to stay, Frankie picks you up for your date wearing no cap, but a white dress shirt with his dark jeans. You open the door and do a double take, holding out one hand in front of you to stop him, as you shamelessly admire the view. 

“Damn, Frankie…” you purr, letting your eyes travel down from the v of the open neck, the smattering of freckles dark against his tanned skin and white cotton, the wide shoulders that stretch the fabric when he crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame with a smile, his forearms on display where he’s rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and all the way down over his slim hips and lean thighs under the black denim. 

“Are you taking me out to dinner, or are you delivering yourself for dinner?” you ask, giving him a wicked smile as you hook your finger into his shirt and pull him closer. Frankie chuckles and brushes his lips against yours. 

“Maybe I’m here to make a meal out of you…”

“Cheesy,” you giggled into his mouth, “but I’ll definitely remind yo-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his hand into your hair and sealing his lips to yours, licking against your bottom lip before he gently sucks on it. A jolt of electricity immediately shoots down your spine and settles between your legs, the sheer promise of what he could deliver had you trembling. A moan escapes you as he pushes you against the wall and lets his thigh spread your legs, the friction shoots another jolt through your body and Frankie knows exactly what he’s doing. You can feel him move his thigh, the thick muscles giving just a taste of what his fingers would do later, and with a crooked smile he pulls back, both from your lips and your legs. 

“Frankie…” you moan, chasing his lips, but he chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. 

“Let's get actual dinner before I make a meal out of you, my greedy little girl.” 

With a pout you follow him out the door but when he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck in the elevator on the way down you melt, you were never really upset. “Who says I’ll keep my hands off you, hermosa,” he murmurs, “the restaurant is really dimly lit.” 

…

The place Frankie has picked is a new place you’d mentioned a while back and you squeeze his arm tightly when you realise that he’s made a reservation especially because he knew you wanted to go. He’s even requested a table at the back where the restaurant has a few tables in small window nooks overlooking the river. The waiter seats you and lights the two candles in the windows and in the small hanging chandelier over your heads, casting the whole table in a soft light. 

You sit down in the middle of the plush bench that curves under the windows, and Frankie sits down close to you, rather than opposite. You’re sharing a corner at the table, and even though there’d be more room if you sat at opposite ends, none of you are moving, least of all Frankie. Instead you feel his hand on your leg, slipping up under the edge of your dress, as soon as he sits down. His hand is hidden under the table cloth and although he lets his hand rest on your thigh for now, you’re fairly certain he won’t let it stay there.

The waiter returns to take your orders and while you’re asking about the fish dish Frankie’s fingers start moving, gentle little circles on your thigh but steadily moving up along your leg. You steal yourself to not let his touch get to you while you talk to the waiter, sitting perfectly still in your seat as you ask about the evening’s special. You can feel his fingers creep further up your leg, starting to tickle the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. From the corner of your eye you can see Frankie innocently studying the menu but you can also see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As the waiter finishes with your order he turns to Frankie and as soon as the waiter’s eyes are off you, Frankie squeezes the inside of your thigh. Not hard, but enough to make your limbs clench together as you shudder from the jolt of heat that shoots through you, settling between your legs. Your involuntary spasm makes the waiter look at you again and you pretend to reach for the breadbasket as Frankie struggles to keep a straight face.

As soon as the waiter leaves Frankie turns to you with a mischievous grin and moves his hand further up your thigh. 

“Hermosa,” he purrs as you try to scowl at him, “your skin is so soft and grabbable right here.” He kneads the plush flesh of your inner thigh as you try to ignore the way it feels as he sinks his fingers into you. 

“You’re a menace, Francisco Morales,” you glare and he leans in on the table, propping his chin up with his free hand, so that his mouth is only inches from your lips. He continues to draw shapes on your skin as he looks at you, his face softening into an innocent look, big brown eyes looking at you like he’s only adoring his girlfriend, not slowly moving his hand up to brush the edge of your panties under the table.

“Why would you say that, cariño?” he asks, smiling as you clench your jaw when his finger tips nudges at your legs, beckoning you to spread them, and you obey without hesitation. “Am I distracting you from the nice view?” You scowl at him again but you can’t hide your smile and Frankie closes the last bit of distance between you and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, letting it brush along your cheek as he captures your lips with his. 

The kiss is soft and demure, anyone looking will only see a couple in love sharing a tender kiss, a sweet moment together. Frankie’s free hand takes your hand on the table and your fingers entwine, but under the table his fingertips are slowly brushing over the thin lace in your panties, feeling the dampness his touch is creating. He traces the slit under the fabric and grazes over your clit, making you quake against his lips, and you feel his mouth pull up in a smile. His tongue quickly darts between your lips as the pad of his thumb rubs with more pressure against the spot, pulling a soft moan from you as you lean into him. With a chuckle Frankie pulls away, moving his hand down your leg, and when you open your eyes to protest you see the waiter walking over with your drinks.

“I’m gonna get you back for this, you know,” you mumble and Frankie gives you a look of perfect innocence as he thanks the waiter for the drinks. When he leaves Frankie takes a sip from his beer and over the brim of his glass his eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. 

“I think I’d like that, cariño, why don’t you try right now?” 

“No, I think I’ll pick a moment you’ll enjoy less,” you smile back at him, taking a sip of your own drink. 

Frankie leans forward, his hand falling below the table again and you quickly cross your legs as his hand touches your knee. 

“Ah, c’mon, cariño,” he coos, caressing the top of your thigh, edging under the hem of your dress again. 

“Keep your hands on the table, Francisco,” you give him a stern look that only makes him grin and scoot closer, leaning in so that he can skate his nose along your jaw, his lips brushing up against your ear, his hot breath tickling you. 

“Mi hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips barely touching your skin, “I want to touch you, feel if you’re as wet as I think you are.” He moves his mouth down and you feel the tip of his tongue slip out and lick across the spot he knows makes you shiver whenever he touches it. “I wanna to feel your sweet pussy tighten around my fingers as you think about what I’m gonna do with my mouth later.” 

His words make your eyes close as a shiver goes down your spine, heat pooling rapidly between your legs. And Frankie knows, he knows exactly what his dirty talk does to you. And now he continues to whisper how he wants to push your dress up over your hips, spread you before him and taste your sweet pussy, all the while his hand gently nudges your legs apart under the table. You feel heat rising in your cheeks as his fingers brush up over the soaked material in your panties. He’s telling you how good he knows you taste, how he loves the feeling of your pussy clenching around his tongue as he pushes into your tight hole. 

“I know you love how my nose rubs against your clit when I bury my face between your legs, hermosa,” he murmurs and you bite your lip to stop a moan escaping. Outwardly he’s still just whispering sweet nothings to you, a loving boyfriend nuzzled against the neck of his love, under the table his fingers have slipped past your panties and are pushing into your pussy, his thick index and ring finger stretching you. You lean forward on your elbows, tilting your head towards him, hiding your face from the room. Frankie’s teeth scrape against your skin as he curls his fingers back inside you, rubbing against the spot he always seems to find so easily. The thrill of him fingering you in public has your cheeks burning, your jaw is clenched tight to stop yourself from panting. Tension is building inside you as Frankie’s breath fans over your skin. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he whispers, “I wish I could get down on my knees and lick you, tug that sweet little clit of yours into my mouth, make you come on my face just like I did - “

Frankie suddenly pulls back, footsteps approaching your table, his fingers slipping out of you as he sits up. 

“Alright, I’ve got the grilled tuna for the lady and the lamb racks for the gentleman,” the waiter says, placing plates on the table. 

You’ve still got your face turned away, cheeks burning as you calm your breathing. Frankie’s hand comes up and genty cups your chin, a soft smile on his face, as if you say he’s got you, and not at all sorry that he’s got you on the edge of an orgasm in the middle of a crowded Friday night restaurant. 

…

You barely make it to the truck once you're done with the meal. The thrum of your near orgasm is still humming through your body and Frankie’s warm arm around your waist, holding you close, makes you want to duck into an alley and risk getting caught for public indecency. You stop him and cup his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss, letting your tongue slip between his lips as his large hand cups the back of your head. You feel his other hand sliding up your back, pressing you against his chest and you lick into his mouth, tasting him and the chocolate he had for dessert. Heat shoots through your body as he presses his hard on into you, he’s trying to create friction to give himself some relief but the way your body reacts, a low moan slipping out, only makes him harder. With a groan he pulls away, grabbing your hand and almost drags you the last bit to the truck. 

It’s parked on a side street and you pull him against you again when he takes you around to the passenger side. Slipping your hand in between you, you palm his cock through his jeans, Frankie grumbles, dropping his head on your shoulder and letting his mouth kiss your neck.

“I need to get you home, hermosa,” he murmurs, his face buried in your hair. “I wanna get you out of this dress so badly.”

 Letting your fingers trace the outlines through the fabric, you circle around the tip pressed against the zipper and Frankie’s breath hitches, his teeth sinking into your neck, sucking against the skin. Behind your back he opens the door to the truck and manoeuvres you so that he’s got his arms at your waist. With casual strength that takes your breath away he lifts you up, setting you down on the bench seat, and for a second you think he’s going to climb up after you. Instead he stops, one foot up on the step, his gaze dropping to where your knees fall open, he’s got a perfect view and his eyes go dark. His hand grabs your thighs, pushing you further into the truck and pushing them wider, the tip of his tongue comes out and licks his bottom lip, before he tears himself away, looking up at you again and inhales deeply as he steps down and closes the door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the effect you had on him and he notices your smile when he pulls himself into the driver’s seat. 

“What are you giggling about, cariño?” he says, buckling in and starting up the truck. His hard cock is straining against his jeans, and you scoot closer to him, cupping your hand around it. 

“Nothing,” you say, “nothing at all, sweetie,” but you smile when you see his jaw clench as soon as your palm presses against his cock and his voice is strained when he replies.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna have to park the truck somewhere dark before we get back to my place.” 

“Would you like that, Frankie?” you ask in a low voice, leaning in so that your breath tickles his neck and you see goosebumps break out on his skin.

“If you’re asking if I wanna fuck you in my truck, then, fuck yes. But let's save that for a date where I can do it properly, and not in the corner of some Costco parking lot.” His voice is a dark rumble as he looks over at you, pausing the truck at a stop sign. His unruly curls are creating a halo lit by the street light behind him and it reminds you of the first time you were in his truck. Him driving to the airfield with you and you’re struck by how much has happened since that first day with Frankie. 

“Remember when we were first in your truck together?” you ask, mirroring the gesture you did then, lifting your hand to push it through the soft curls on his head. 

“I do, vividly,” he smiles, leaning into your hand, “I told you to do that again when we weren’t in any vehicles I would crash.” 

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.” 

“I did, and I wanted to kiss you right then, but it took like three more tries before I got my chance.” Frankie chuckles as he puts the truck in drive again. He lifts his arm so that he can put it around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you take your hand from his cock, not wishing to cause any accidents, resting it on his thigh instead. 

“Put your hand back there as soon as we’re inside the apartment, please,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, making you giggle and squeeze his thigh. Your sexual energy is still thrumming in your nerves but they simmer lower as you lean against Frankie, feeling a different kind of energy in your system. 

This man makes you feel safe, comfortable and wanted. You drop your head against his shoulder, relishing in the way his sheer presence wraps you up in a cocoon of happy content, as if his solid, calm energy makes your body relax and sink into him. Frankie’s own self doubts and nerves never seemed to seep out of him, he pulled them into himself, you could see in his eyes when he was pulled under by his negative thoughts, but the energy he gave to you was always solid, like a rock holding you steady. 

“You’re my rock, Frankie,” you say, as you wrap your arm across his waist, hugging him tightly. 

“Your rock, cariño?” he smiles, dropping his eyes from the road for a second to look at you. 

“You’re solid like a rock, making me feel calm when I’m with you, like you can handle whatever happens and keep me safe.” 

“I don’t know how much of a rock I am, I’ve struggled with keeping myself steady for most of my life,” he says, his voice a little doleful. 

“I know, but somehow you still manage to make me feel like you’re the most stable person in the world.” 

“You mean boring,” Frankie snorts, “should I be insulted?” 

You slap him playfully and shake your head, “Anything but boring, Frankie, just…you make me feel calm, and relaxed, when I’m with you. And happy. Very, very happy.” 

You feel him tighten his arm around your shoulders, “Mi amor,” he mumbles, his lips pressed to your hair as he keeps one eye on the road, “you make me very, very happy too.”

…

The mood changes as you get to Frankie’s apartment, riding up the elevator he nods up at the security camera in the corner and you resort to snuggling into him, keeping everything PG. But the second he’s got you over the threshold he cages you in between his arms against the door, his long body pressed up against yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck as his mouth finds yours. 

“Longest fucking dinner of my life,” he murmurs against you, his hips are flush against your belly and the hard line of his cock twitches between you. “Would’ve pulled you out of there and actually fucked you in my truck if I hadn’t waited three weeks for that reservation.” 

“You’re such a romantic, Frankie,” you smile, grabbing hold of his curls and pulling him back a little so that you can see his dark eyes, his eyelids half closed and a greedy look on his face. 

“Put your hand back on my dick, please, hermosa,” he husks, rolling his hips so that you can feel his cock more firmly. Keeping a hold on his hair so that you can look at him you snake your other hand between you and cup it over the hard bulge in his jeans, stroking it firmly with your eyes locked on his. His lips curl up almost as if he’s in pain and a dark groan slips out between his parted lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his pupils are wide and half hidden under his eyelids. You repeat the motion, adding your nails, rasping them over the bulge and Frankie’s head falls back. 

“Fuuuuck….” he moans, louder this time, “fucking feels so good but I’m about to break the zipper, cariño,” he pants. 

You tug at his hair, “Eyes on me, Francisco.” The use of his full name snaps him back as you palm him again, using your nails, and the look in his eyes sparks something inside you. Leaning in, close to his ear, you nip lightly at his earlobe, pulling a soft gasp from him. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, “do you like it when I tell you what to do?” The groan from deep in his chest is answer enough, and when you lean back, looking at him again, his jaw is clenched and he’s got a strained look on his face. 

“Tell me what to do, hermosa,” he grates out, his hips still against your palm cupped over his aching cock. His eyebrows are tightly knitted, his dark eyes fixed on your as he swallows hard, but he doesn’t move. 

You smile, the thought of having Frankie obeying your orders turns you on more than you thought it would. He’s always in control when you have sex, apart from the last few minutes when he loses himself, pumping into you as he chases his orgasm, he’s always in control. He always makes sure you come once or twice before he thinks about himself, he’s always thinking about how to give you as much pleasure as possible and seems to get as much out of it as you do. But he’s always called the shots, until now. 

“Frankie…” you purr, pulling your hand up from his dick to stroke your fingertips over his patchy beard, “this is new, I can call the shots tonight?” 

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want me to do,” his face is less strained now that your hand isn’t caressing his aching cock but his tone is still a dark groan

“Take me to your bedroom, Frankie,” you say, testing the waters, although this is hardly a difficult one. 

With a swift motion he bends and puts his arm behind your knees, the other at your back, picking you up as your arms wrap around his neck for purchase and he walks through the dimly lit apartment.  

“With the risk of sounding like a cavewoman,” you giggle, “your strength always turns me on, I forget how strong you are until you pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

“Maybe I should pick you up more often,” Frankie grins, pushing open the door to his bedroom. “Tell me, what do you want me to do with you now?” 

“Put me down,” you say and he gently sets you down on your feet and you sit down on the edge of the bed, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Take your clothes off for me, Frankie.” 

He grins and starts rolling down the sleeves of his white shirt before unbuttoning it, revealing more tanned skin as he moves down. 

“The thing is,” you say, your eyes shamelessly watching him slide the shirt off his wide shoulders, “you’re always in control when we have sex. Making sure I come first, making me come several times before you even let me touch you.” Frankie gives you a proud smirk while his hands undo his belt and slides it out, dropping it on the floor next to the shirt. “And tonight, I wanna do the same to you.” You watch as his hands still, his zipper halfway down. 

“Don’t stop, Francisco,” you tell him. “You take your pants off at the last moment, when you’ve already got me spread out on the bed, coming down from you eating my pussy. I wanna watch you properly this time.” At the mention of him eating you out he narrows his eyes and you see the pink tip of his tongue peek out between his lips, his eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. 

“Maybe later, Frankie, if you’re a good boy,” you smile and his eyes find yours, the greedy look in them almost makes you want to drop your game and let him take control again. But instead you watch him push his jeans down over his narrow hips, catching his socks at the same time as he steps out of them. He stands up, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his snug black boxers, looking at you with his head tilted to the side and a crooked grin. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You bite your lip, it’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s looking so good standing in front of you and he knows you’re cracking. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Francisco,” you manage to press out. 

The boxers are stretched over his rigid cock, doing nothing to hide the sheer size of him or how aroused he is. When you first had sex with him he was a bit self conscious, both about his body and the size of dick. Any qualms about this size you’d dispelled the first time, he knew you loved how he filled you up and you let him know it, loudly. His hang ups about his flat butt and soft belly were harder to dispel, but now he’s standing in front of you without any nerves, confidence oozing from him as he drags his boxers down his hips. He keeps his eyes on you as they slide over his cock, making it jump out as the elastic pulls over the tip. You’re flitting your eyes between his boxers and his face, your tongue peaking out without you noticing, licking your lips as he drops the boxers and strokes himself a few times with languid passes. 

“Lie down on the bed, Frankie,” you order him, standing up so that he can stretch out and lie back. He puts his hands out for you, trying to pull you down on top of him but you smile and slip away from his hands. 

“Patience, Frankie boy,” you purr and swat his hand away from your leg as he grins. 

You’ve still got your dress on and you see his cocky smile fade away as you give him the same view you just got. You’re wearing the black wrap around dress he loves and as his dark eyes watches, you untie it at the waist and let it fall open, pulling the ribbon out of the dress. 

“Hermosa,” Frankie moans, “you’re so beautiful, come here, let me touch you, please.” 

Shrugging it off your shoulders you step back up on the bed and straddle Frankie’s thighs, his hard cock jutting up towards his stomach just in front of you. 

“Not yet, my sweet Frankie,” you coo, “I know you want to taste me, make me come with your face buried in my pussy, but not yet.” 

Frankie’s jaw clenches and you can see his hands grabbing hold of the covers as you sit down. He’s desperate to touch but determined to let you guide him this time. The black lace panties and bra you’re wearing aren’t helping, it’s his favourite set. You’d asked for his advice when you bought it a few weeks ago and his cock had twitched when he thought about seeing you in it, wrapped like a present for him. Now you’re hovering above his erection, wearing that set, leaning down over him as your hand closes around the base. 

“Cariño,” he grumbles with a shiver as your breath ghosts over the head of his cock, it’s already weeping, drops of precum collecting at the slit. “Please…” 

“Please what, Frankie?” you smile, leaning closer to the tip, sticking out your tongue, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes are black, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at where the tip of your tongue traces the slit of his cock. When you make contact he moans, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Please, hermosa,” he pants, and you lick your tongue over the head, collecting the salty liquid as he groans and bucks his hips again. Your mouth sinks over him and he’s fisting the covers, fighting the urge to grab on to your head, instead he watches as his aching cock disappears between your lips. He can feel the head gliding along the inside of your mouth as you take him deeper, your tongue licking along the length, teasing along the swollen ridges and veins that thrum with heat. Saliva drips from your mouth, down over his cock and you use it to slide your hand up and down him, easing the friction over the part that’s not in your mouth. 

Heat is building fast in his belly, your mouth is a hot vise around his cock, taking more and more down your throat as he gasps and groans, screwing up his eyes when he can’t watch, when he gets too close to coming. He’s rambling as he shivers underneath you, praising your mouth, your tongue, your hands. When your nose brushes against the wiry curls at the base of his cock, the head bumping the back of your throat, he cries out, begging you for release. 

“Please, you’re so good to me, let me…oh fuck you feel good,” he stutters, his voice catching as you close your mouth around him, dragging your lips along his length as you increase the pressure.

“Fuck…your mouth…hermosa, your mouth, make me come, let me come in you.” He opens his eyes again, looking down at you as you sink your mouth down over him again, you can taste his precum on your tongue, more of it leaking out. 

His hips are jerking up, he’s breathing fast as he whimpers and you lift your eyes to him, meeting his gaze. Seeing him like this, his mouth hanging open as he whines, looking wrecked, he screws his face up as if he’s in pain, makes you shudder, your panties are soaked, every one of his moans and whines going straight to your core. 

You sink down deeper over him, your tongue licking every inch of him as you take as much as you can, letting his cock brush against the back of your throat again as you move your mouth up and down his length, stroking the slick base with your hand coated in his precum and your saliva. 

Frankie lets out a broken growl, “fuck, cariño, ple…please…I’m gon - “ his stuttering turns into shout as you feel the first burst of thick liquid coat your tongue, he’s jerking his hips, his hands fly from the sheets and tangle in your hair as he pumps himself upwards, your mouth closing tight around his pulsating cock, milking his spend as it shoots out of him. Frankie’s whole body tenses up, his back arching off the bed, the corded tendons on his neck stretch and tremble when he throws his head back, a cry as if he’s in pain tearing itself from his throat. 

You continue to stroke him through his climax, looking up at him, seeing his throat strain as he pants, groaning through his high. His thrusts grow slower and you let your mouth drag along him, softening your lips as you let him pump the last of himself over your tongue, ending with a small kiss on the tip of his sensitive head. He relaxes and looks down at you again, seeing your mouth come off him and you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. 

“Help, I can’t move,” he groans softly and you smile at him as you crawl up his body and lie down in his arms. 

“I liked that,” you say, wrapping an arm over his chest as he pulls you in close. “I see why you like eating my pussy first, it’s a rush to have that power.” 

“Don’t get used to it, cariño,” Frankie smiles, “I’m not giving it up so easily.” 

“I’ll get Benny to teach me how to bark orders like in the military, you seem to like me bossing you around.” 

“Only because I let you,” he pokes his finger into your side, “I wanted to see if you had it in you.” 

“Bullshit!” you splutter and almost sit up, but Frankie’s arm tightens around you and pulls you back down. “The second I used your full name you caved.” 

“I hated hearing my full name in the army, it meant I was in trouble. But when you say it, cariño lindo…I melt.” 

“I know, Francisco Morales,” your giggle turns into a squeal when he suddenly grabs your arms and flips you over. 

“Ahora, mi hermosa,” he murmurs as he sinks his mouth to your neck, “now it’s your turn.”

Chapter 8

[elliesflower]

i saw you in a dream [4]

chapter 3 here

summary; you finally take your anticipated final

chapter; 4/? 2.6k words

cw (per chapter); recreational marijuana usage, language

an; *peaks out from behind the curtain* hey lol

thank y'all so much for bearing with me, i know it's been over a month since the last chapter and i'm gonna try real hard not to let that happen again. just a genuine, sincere thank you to every single one of you who have reblogged or liked this story, given kudos on AO3, messaged me, sent anonymous asks, all of it. you all make my heart swell, thank you for supporting my works and loving this story. i love you all endlessly <3

okay enough sappy syd, on to the story! (as always, find it on AO3 here)

Okay. You have her number now. That was the easy part, and you didn’t even have to work for it. She just gave it to you. Which must mean she wants you to have it…right? There’s no other logical explanation as to why she’d email you if she didn't care. But now, the hard part was actually formulating a response—which you couldn’t do if you just stared at the screen. 

And, there was another facet—you actually had to attend your final before you could let Ellie know how it went. But, should you respond anyways, just to let her know you got the email? For fucks sake, its the twenty-first century, of course she knows you got her email. But maybe, you should just reply anyway, and let her know you were planning on texting her? Your finger hesitated over the touchpad of your computer, cursor tauntingly hovering over the reply button at the top of the screen.

God, maybe-kinda-sorta liking someone is annoying.

“Don’t you have a final to go to?” Dina suddenly raised her voice, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced up at the time on your computer and realized you were running a bit behind. 

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath, quickly closing your laptop and rising from your seat. The music stopped abruptly as you turned around to face Dina, who was now watching videos on her phone. Even at the risk of being late, you had to tell her about the message. 

“Dee, you’ll never guess who just emailed me,” you said, words coming out rushed and giddy. She sat up quickly at your tone, leaning over the railing of her bunk to give you her full attention. 

“Oh my god--wait, let me guess,” she replied excitedly. “The Queen of Sheba?!”

You resisted the urge to step forward and flick her in the forehead, instead opting to give her the finger.

“Ellie fucking Williams,” you beamed, unable to contain yourself. Just the sound of her name rolling off your tongue filled you with joy, curling up like a ball in the pit of your stomach. It was literally already impossible to get her off your mind, and it sure doesn’t help that all you’ll be able to think about for the foreseeable future will be that email—when to text her, what to text her, if you should text her.

Dina’s mouth fell open as she gave you an amused look. 

“I knew it, I knew she’d be the first one to say something,” she said confidently, leaning back onto her elbow. “Come on, admit it. I was right.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your desk to grab your wallet and keys to put in your backpack.

“What, you have absolutely no faith in me?” You feigned shock, and Dina shrugged at you. “I’m sure she just wanted me to let her know how my final goes for proof of her extra credit.” 

“Well, what exactly did she say?”

“She said to let her know how my final goes,” you said nonchalantly, turning back to face her. “And she also gave me her number and said I can text her if that’s easier.” The last part came out rushed, again. Dina’s hand flew over her mouth, muffling a scream. 

“For fucks sake, it’s a good thing you’re not a journalism major, always burying the lead!” She exclaimed, throwing her blanket off and climbing down the small ladder at the end of her bunk, landing on the floor with a soft thud. “That’s amazing! So what did you text her?”

“Nothing, yet,” you admitted, sitting back down at your desk to gather your sheet music for your final. You heard Dina plop into her own chair across the room. “She literally emailed me like five minutes ago.”

“Okay, so what?” Dina pressed. 

“So, I don’t wanna seem desperate!” You whined, spinning around to face her again. The sheet music creased between your fingers as you gripped it in your sweaty hands. 

“Dude, she made the first move, I’d hardly call you the desperate one,” she replied, and you had to let out a laugh. 

“Well I’d hardly call it ‘making a move,’” you scoffed, turning back to your desk to grab a pen. “She probably just wants me to confirm I did well on my lesson so she actually gets her extra credit.” In your haste to grab the pen, you knocked the sour pineapple pre-roll off your desk, and it flew across the room.

“Yeah, but email works just fine for confirmation. She didn’t have to give you her number,” she pointed out, bending forward to snatch the pre-roll off the ground. “And she definitely didn’t have to give you this expensive-looking pre-roll—” she popped open the cap and inhaled the deep, earthy scent. “—you don’t give perfectly good weed out to just anybody, you know?”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, a smile still playing on your lips. In your mind, you knew Dina was most likely right. But your insecurities definitely got the best of you when it came to this sort of thing, not letting you fully believe Ellie may just be kind of into you too.

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted reluctantly, standing up to pack away the papers into your guitar case. 

“So, what are you waiting for? Text her now!” Dina exclaimed, sliding the pre-roll out of the tube. 

“Okay, I take it back, you were wrong,” you held your hand out to her and beckoned, silently asking her to hand you the joint. “I’ll text her after I don’t completely fuck up my final.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Dina rolled her eyes playfully, pulling a lighter out of her back pocket. “And you’ll do even better if you share this pre-roll with me before you leave.” 

She left you no time to respond before she was lighting the tip and opening the window. 

*********

Okay, maybe smoking half a joint before taking a really important final wasn’t the best idea. 

In theory, you feel like you had done okay. After practically running to make it to the music building on time, you still felt like a bundle of nerves despite the high—heart racing, palms sweating, brain fog—even weed couldn’t suppress the fact that you were an anxious test taker. 

It felt like everything Ellie had taught you was slowly fading away. Though, you found that if you just closed your eyes and pictured her sitting there, strumming her guitar with those perfect fingers and that goofy sideways grin and that quiet breathy singing you could…fuck, what were you doing again?

“So that’s it?” You asked when you were done, palm laying flat against the strings on your guitar. Your teacher sat in a small folding chair across from you, one leg crossed as he took notes in a small notebook. He briefly glanced at you from above his glasses before looking back down. 

“Yes. I’ll have your final score posted online by the end of day,” he said dismissively, continuing to write. As you stood, you tried to nonchalantly crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was writing, but damn him and his tiny, scribbly handwriting.

“Okay, uh, thanks for that, and for a great semester,” you smiled weakly. Sure, they say flattery will get you nowhere, but it’s worth a shot, right? You received nothing but a tight-lipped smile in return, and he couldn’t be bothered to glance your way again. 

Dick. 

You packed away your things hastily and left without another word, wanting to get as far away from your professor and this goddamned class as possible. With a deep breath, you took your guitar off your shoulder, sliding down the wall at the end of the main hallway. You crossed your legs and pulled out your phone, opening your email and re-reading Ellie’s message over.

Did you tell her what time your final was at? Surely she’d think you’re obsessed if you took less than an entirety of five whole minutes to text her after it was over. But she actually needs to know how you did for her extra credit, so, you’d actually be doing her a favor by texting her as quickly as possible. You know, so she gets her extra credit…quicker. Or something like that. 

Dina, SOS

Obviously, you weren’t going to be able to craft a message to Ellie on your own. 

oh no, did you bomb your final?

i’ll never be able to find a roommate as cool as you if you fail out

Very funny.

First of all, fuck you. Second, what do I say to Ellie? Should I text her? Email her?

Dina will know what to say. 

text her, definitely

maybe something like “hey, just finished my final, wanna bang?”

then say “oops i meant hang”

Okay, never mind.

You have been absolutely no help at all.

You rolled your eyes at her response:

love you roomie &lt;3

Alright, so Dina helping you was out of the question. Looks like you’ll just have to formulate a response all on your own, of which the thought was looming over your head already. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the wall, sighing. 

“This is so stupid,” you mumbled quietly to yourself. 

“Final was that bad, huh?” 

You nearly broke your neck looking up to the sound of the familiar voice. 

“Ellie,” your voice broke pathetically with your surprise, and before you could even have another thought, she was sliding down the wall next to you. You could smell her, that same woody aroma melding into the ever-present trace of weed. Holy fuck, were you dreaming?

You looked to your left and had to stop yourself from consuming every part of her at once, in fear of losing all inhibition. You started with her face, those iridescent jade eyes that could even look pretty in the shitty fluorescent hallway lighting, halfway covered by heavy lids and long eyelashes; the freckles that littered constellations across her face, that fucking crooked smile. It had to be a dream. 

“What are you doing here?” You found yourself saying for lack of a better response. It didn’t seem to phase her though, as she smiled just a little bit higher on one side and slid her backpack into her lap. You watched her tattooed arm flex, her bracelets tinging together softly as she reached into the open zipper and pulled out a few papers. She was so close, you noted the way she practically felt like a furnace next to you, despite the chill outside.

“Just turning in my extra credit. Last minute as always,” she shook the papers in her hand for emphasis. Right—she was a Music minor. A completely valid reason to be in the music building at the same time as you, during finals week. She obviously didn’t come here just to see you, that would be ridiculous. “Don’t tell me my tutoring was that bad?”

“Oh, no, not at all!” You exclaimed, sitting up just a bit higher. “My final actually went pretty well, I was just texting my friend. She’s…thinking about getting back together with her ex.” Yikes. If Dina were here she may have slapped you for that one. 

“Yikes,” Ellie mirrored your thoughts, and maybe it was just the fact that she seemed a little high too, but she didn’t seem to notice your cover-up. “I know plenty about those toxic exes.” She smirked, putting the papers back into her bag before zipping it closed. Briefly, you wondered what exactly she knew about them—part of you wanted to ask her, but you definitely weren’t to that stage yet. For fucks sake, you were barely acquaintances at this point.

“Uh, did you need me to sign one of those papers for you or something? For proof of the tutoring or whatnot?” You pointed lamely at her backpack. It was like your brain and your body were fighting over what to do or say when you’re around her. 

“Nah,” she shook her head, fidgeting with one of her bracelets. “I have enough signatures. I’m just glad your final went well, and that I could help.” Ellie looked up at you now, that goofy grin slowly spreading back on her face. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat. 

“Oh, okay, yeah,” you smiled back, looking down at your phone in your hands. She was so close, you could almost feel the fabric of her hoodie against your arm, you wanted to feel the fabric of her hoodie against your arm, oh god— “Well, you were a great teacher. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Ellie leaned into you slightly, and you felt like you might light on fire. 

“I’m glad I could help,” she said softly, before sitting up just as quickly as she had leaned in. Swiftly, she grabbed her back and stood up. You watched her legs extend and her shirt ride up just slightly over the top of her jeans, revealing a small expanse of her skin. You had to look away, you had to, or she might see the stars in your eyes. 

“You leaving?” She asked, shrugging her backpack over one shoulder while extending her other arm. You looked up at her hand and it seemed like there was no other answer except yes. 

Her long fingers nearly enveloped your hand as she gripped, pulling you up with seemingly no effort. Her hands were almost exactly how you’d imagined them—warm, the skin on the back of her hand soft in comparison to the rough, calloused pads of her fingers. You yearned to feel them again, in your hand, on your face, anywhere. Whatever she would give you. 

Ellie dipped down quickly to grab your guitar case before you could protest, and it felt like when you were standing in her doorway, stomach doing backflips and full of nervous excitement. 

“I know I already said it, but I’m really glad that I was able to help you with your final. I’m sure you did great,” she said, and her confidence slipped, just a little. She passed your guitar between the two of you and you took it, careful to avoid the touch of her hand. “And I’m really glad I ran into you just now. It was good to see you.”

Yeah, this had to be a dream. Was that…a blush creeping up her neck? Oh no, stop looking at her neck. 

“Me too,” you said stupidly, but it earned you another grin nonetheless. “To both those things…you know, you helping me with my final, seeing you now…” You trailed off, running a hand through your hair nervously. 

“Hey, my roommate set up this…open mic thing as part of her final,” Ellie started, her casual tone of voice a contradiction to the nervous shuffling of her feet. “I’m gonna be performing a song and…I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna stop by. There’ll be other acts to watch too! Some cool poetry, other musicians, stuff like that. Oh, and free food, of course,” she began to ramble a bit, adjusting her backpack higher on her shoulder, scratching lightly at the back of her hand.

Oh. Oh. Holy shit. She was inviting you to something and playing it off like she wasn’t. 

“Yes, I-I’d love to!” You exclaimed, maybe just a bit over the top. You had to respond before she changed her mind or something. That earned you a smile though, and it was almost worth the embarrassment. 

“Cool, cool,” she replied. “It starts at seven on Friday, in the black box theater downstairs.” 

“I’ll be there, for sure,” you said, your knees feeling weak.

“Great. See you then,” Ellie gave you one last smile, and a small wave before turning and disappearing around the corner. 

You may or may not have pinched your arm just to make sure this was in fact, real life.

chapter 5 here

[throneofsapphics]

Hey,

I loved your kinktober posts - especially Nesta x Reader and was wondering if you’d like to write more for them? Maybe something fluffy with some smut? Or literally anything to be honest I love your writing so much 🥰

dinner first 

Nesta x f!Reader

Summary: you and Nesta are distracted from cooking dinner. 

Warnings: kinda soft!dom nesta, smut, oral, fingering 

A/N: thank you!! you’re so sweet 

“Can you slice the carrots?”

“Why?”

“You’re so much better at it.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but picked up the knife, you couldn’t help watching the smooth and practiced movements, the sharp, even slices, the way she handled the blade - even if it was just a standard kitchen knife - with ease. Was chopping vegetables supposed to be a turn on? 

“Really?” She drawled. You must’ve been a bit too obvious with how you were ogling her. 

Your cheeks flushed and you turned away stirring the pot again.

“Dump them in when you’re ready,” you mumbled.

A minute or so later, faster than anyone should be able to chop those, you felt her chest pressed against your back, her arms encircling you. 

Small thudding sounds as they dropped in, the thud of a cutting board tossed aside, the knife slid away with a tad more care.

She didn’t move, and you leaned back into her, a contented sigh left your lips.

Nesta pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, and you debated deserting dinner, hopping right up on the counter and -

“What are you thinking?” Her hand wrapped around yours - you hadn’t realized you’d stopped stirring - going through the motions for you, other hand pressing against your stomach, keeping you close to her. 

Fuck it. You shoved the pot to the back of the stove, one hand feeling blindly to turn the burner off, and spun around.

Her pupils were already dilated, and after a moment's pause strong hands gripped behind your thighs, angling you towards the counter - not the still hot burner, thankfully, that would kill the mood. 

Thighs spread apart, she wedged herself between your thighs, fingers digging into your waist, your hands sliding over her shoulders, winding around to play with the hair. Slowly, you took out each pin, running your fingers through the strands, unwinding the crown braid she always kept. Her breathing grew heavy as you took her time, fingers tightening around you. 

As soon as the last strand was free, her beautiful hair falling around her in waves, her hand cupped the back of your head, drawing you in. 

Slow and soft, her lips moved against yours, tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip. Kissing her, gods you fucking loved it. Sweet and gentle, rough and frenzied, or somewhere in between you’d take anything she’d give. And Nesta knew it. 

You yelped as you slid, yanked towards the very edge of the counter. Your hands flew behind you, bracing yourself. 

“I wouldn’t let you fall,” she snorted, a vaguely offended tone. 

Nesta knelt, and her hand slid up your thighs, stopping to trace the small sliver of skin just above your waistband. 

Your hips lifted, and all you wanted was them off. 

“Eager?” She murmured, but acquiesced, hooking her fingers in to take your pants and underclothes at once. Too gods-damn slowly, she tugged them down, kissing each inch of bare skin revealed, ignoring the small wiggles you made to try and get them off quicker. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“I’ll let you know if I want you to beg,” her tone was firm, but not harsh, and you could’ve sworn she slowed down. Fire followed wherever she touched, as if your skin was trained to react to each small brush of her skin against yours. 

After what felt like eternity, you were finally bare from the waist down. She left your clothes around your ankles, lifting your legs up and ducking her head underneath. . Nesta met your eyes, maybe reading the desperation there, because she didn’t hesitate anymore, spreading your legs further and flicking her tongue against your clit. Heels digging into her back, you writhed and moaned, panting desperately as she brought you closer, closer, closer. 

One fingers slipping in you, she crooked it to hit that spot, and sent you over the edge. 

-

“Dinner,” she ducked out and rose to her feet, giving you a few moments to compose yourself, tugging your pants back up your legs. 

“But I want to taste -”

“Dinner first.” Nesta cut you off. A fist pounded against the door. “Did you forget we have guests?” She smirked. Guests, and they’d all know exactly what happened. 

“Can’t you get rid of them?” You muttered. 

“We did that last time,” she pressed a kiss to your lips before heading to the door. 

[lorre-verie]

「ᴅᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴛᴇᴇɴꜱ (ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ)」

title for those that use a screen reader:

Dates with the Avatar Teens (Modern AU)

bit of context: this is when you both are dating in highschool so everyones like 17-18

— courtesy of lorre-verie (thats me)

masterlist

note: for some reason (at least on my screen) the images appear wonky and not in line, so if that happens to u im so sorry idk how to fix it 😭

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌

I feel like you guys could go on a couple different dates depending on what you like. His favourite kind of dates would be anything including outdoor physical activity, swimming on the beach, (indoor) rock climbing, bungee jumping, mini road trips (would have his license) even just a simple walk along the forest. If you aren’t as adventurous as him but are still willing to try it out just cause he likes it, he would be so appreciative of you and you guys would have literally so much fun. Other dates are simply watching tv shows together, going to fun 3d picture museums, shopping at the mall. He’s also willing to try anything you want to try and go to any place you want to visit. He's literally perfect i love him so much but he's dead so

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈

i don’t feel like she’s the type of person to want to go on dates specifically (she wouldn't label it as a date), but you guys hang out often at each other’s places and that's enough for her personally, but in case you do want to go out somewhere special she probably will agree. if it was up to her she’d take you to her favourite river or a lake and you guys could sit on the pier and just talk about life, doubling over with laughter whenever either of you cracks a funny joke. that’s her type of date. but again she's up for anything else as long as its with you <3 would definitely take you to her favourite thrift shop and you guys could get cute matching couple outfits. In case you guys go anywhere picturesque she’s the BEST photographer, knows all the angles and all the poses, super still hands when she takes the photos and none of them are ever less than flawless.

𝐋𝐎'𝐀𝐊

you guys would definitely go to the movies (works there part time and uses his worker privileges to get free popcorn and drinks), arcade, skateboarding park, roller skate park, literally anything and everything fun. also enjoys staying in and laying in bed together just scrolling on tiktok (and making tiktoks with each other). during these dates he would take photos of you and post it on his secret instagram account titled mypookiey/n that kiri, teyam, aonung, rotxo and you follow (reya not included cause I feel like if he didn’t like tsireya romantically he’d be kinda shy to talk to her since she’s like the popular girl and he considers himself an outcast). you guys record music covers together and he loves editing them cause he loves hearing your voice (gets so giddy inside, totally has a shy small smile on his face when u sing he's so cute AGHHHH)

𝐀𝐎'𝐍𝐔𝐍𝐆

amusement park dates WOOO you’d both have so much fun. riding roller coasters, playing the mini games, going into the photo booths, buying cotton candy, couple selfies on the ferris wheel, never a dull moment with this guy. If he sees a giant teddy bear as a prize for a minigame he would get you it in one try. often invites you to be front row at his basketball games and in case you’re interested in learning he would not hesitate to teach you the best he could (would also mock you for not being as good as him). He holds your hand everywhere (in case ur not good with PDA he wouldn’t but i think we can all agree his love language is physical touch so….would be a very hard time for him). In case you’re struggling with maths he would definitely tutor you, you could kinda consider that a date??? I guess????

𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐗𝐎

cafe, library, studying dates. that and also you both go to the mall together. He’s very funny and can make a joke out of anything, any “boring” date he can turn right around. Since he’s good with his words definitely tries to embarrass you in public by reading out a poem dedicated to you that he made on the spot, earning a smack on the back of the head from you. He also does this thing where he takes you to check out the toy sections in shops and you both make fun of the price together because what the hell why is a little pony plushie like 25 bucks?? he also loves taking couple photos together

𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐀

you guys eat together, go to cute cafes, picnics in the park, also enjoy laying in bed and scrolling through tik tok together. window shopping is a must, always tries out cute outfits and asks you for your opinion on them, and also fixes together pieces for you to wear. you guys do cute ass stuff like interlocking pinkies and then taking photos of said pinkies and posting it on your stories. dog cafes, cat cafes, and bird cafes are also great. also loves doing sleepovers, always insists on sleeping in a sleeping bag no matter if a bed is available or not because it's part of the fun. she will also do your skincare with or without you asking. 

Literally guess who i had the easiest time writing for is and who i struggled with the most bet u cant get it right. i just wanted 2 post this just because im feeling guilty as hell cause it's been a week and there's minimal progress on the neteyam series…we’re getting there i promise guys. reblogs and comments are most appreciated, it lets me know whether the content im putting out is actually good or not 😭

In case u’re interested u can check out my masterlist for more stuff like this (literally only one other modern au thing but i do have other fics) tysm and have a gorgeous day!

[nickfowlerrr]

pretty when you cry - chapter three

series masterlist / chapter four

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 02/16/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. dubcon/noncon touching. mention of rape. bucky being kind of a dick - but what’s new. if i’m missing anything please let me know!! 18+ ONLY.

words: 2.4k

notes: this was going to be longer but i decided the next part would flow better into chapter four. hopefully this will hold you over until i post that this weekend lol. again, i always do my best to tag appropriately, but if you find i’m missing anything, please do not hesitate to let me know! as usual, feedback is always appreciated 💘

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You spent all of Monday in the same bed you fell asleep in; only getting up to use the restroom or to get water as you mindlessly watched your comfort show on repeat. Eva had called you earlier that morning but you didn’t trust yourself enough to answer without immediately crumbling to her. You opted to text her that you think you may have caught something and that you were really unwell. Which wasn’t all a total lie. You did feel extremely sick. You told her that you didn’t want to give her anything and that she shouldn’t come by - you knew she’d rush right over if you didn’t come up with some kind of excuse. Tuesday came quicker than you realized and you decided to call out of your shift at the diner. You didn’t want to be around anyone right now, especially at a place where you could run into Bucky again.

The real problem you were having was emotionally trying to process the events of Sunday evening.

You were hurt and had the bruises to prove it. You felt used because you were used. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the way he touched you and kissed you so gently. It was a stark contrast to the words he spoke to you. And the humiliating way he left you.

There was an underlying motive to his actions, you were sure of that. You just weren’t sure what it was. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about his soft caresses or the feeling of him on you. Or the paralyzing fear you felt as you let him do as he pleased. Even more, you desperately didn’t want to think about the feelings you felt alongside the fear.

So you decided not to. It was over now anyway, so why prolong the experience mentally?

You spent Tuesday much the same as the previous day and when Wednesday came you had decided to get back to normal - as if nothing had even happened.

If you didn’t pay attention to it, it would just go away. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Back to your normal work schedule- you thought you’d be able to avoid the men as you had done before. Turns out those men had other plans.

Every time you went into work at the diner, they were there. It wasn’t always all of them, but always enough to make you uncomfortable. Luckily you hadn’t seen Bucky at all.

Two weeks passed and the following Friday, your routine was yet again interrupted. As you were bussing a table, you felt the gaze of a young man, about your age, on your back. You turned to face him with a raised eyebrow and were slightly surprised to see him quickly look away embarrassed by being caught after locking eyes with you.

You didn’t think much of it. Aside from the fact that you hadn’t seen him around before and he was kinda cute - he was also joined at his booth by some of the guys you recognized from the bar.

You didn’t have the patience or care to keep pretending that you didn’t notice his eyes on you for the past twenty minutes, following you as you walked back and forth from the kitchen to the dining area serving your customers. The other guys he had been with had finished their food and left fifteen minutes ago but this guy, he just stayed.

With no regard for any unforeseen consequences and completely unphased by the fact that he was most likely another biker, you walked up to his booth and had to stifle a scoff as you watched him quickly divert his eyes and look around, pretending that he hadn’t been staring and that he didn’t see you stalking right up to him. You knew you looked pissed, it was clear as day on your face. You weren’t scared. In fact, you hadn’t truly felt scared since getting back to work. What was the worst thing that could happen to you, really? Death? You highly doubted it. If there was anything you could consider remotely “good” about that night with Bucky, it was the ridiculous way you now felt near fearless around these guys. The most intense emotion was annoyance and while you still avoided them like the plague, it wasn’t out of fear of being humiliated or harmed. The worst had already happened and you’d been embarrassed enough that now you really didn’t think anything anyone could say to you would phase you.

You stopped right in front of the guy and stared him down, willing him to look up at you and make eye contact.

He slowly and unsurely glanced up at you and you watched him as he gulped and his adams apple bobbed up and down. He stared for a second, slightly parting his mouth like he was going to say something, but didn’t.

“Do you have a problem, sir?” you asked matter of factly.

“Prob- no, uh, no problem,” he stuttered as he blinked at you. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t respond, only lifted an eyebrow as you returned his stare.

“I know I’m staring, it’s just- you’re just- I, I’m sorry,” he said again. “My name’s Peter,” he offered weakly before putting his hand out for you to shake. You looked at it perplexed, was he being serious right now?

“Y/N,” you said skeptically before slowly reaching out to shake his hand.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he smiled.

“Smooth,” you said before rolling your eyes and turning to walk back to your section.

“Wait, I’m sorry. That was really lame. I uh, I just moved here. Don’t really know many people yet. And you are, really pretty,” he said before standing up. He was taller than you, but most men around here were. It was like your town was attracting well built, handsome, ruthless, men. You weren’t sure this guy was ruthless, he certainly didn’t look it, but, “never judge a book by its cover’’ was a saying for a reason. And guilty until proven innocent was your new motto. So you weren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. You looked up to meet his eyes now that his eye level had changed from his seated position. You refused to let up on your harsh gaze. And to be honest, you loved the way it obviously made him a little squirrely.

“This is forward, but would you, would you maybe like to get dinner sometime? Or coffee or something else, casually, or not.” He asked trepidatiously. It was actually annoying you how adorable he was being. But you weren’t about to let your guard down completely.

“Dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah. Like a date. Or not, if you don’t want it to be. Like I said, just moved here, so a friend dinner would be nice, too, if you’d want,”

Damn. Those big brown puppy dog eyes were getting to you. Maybe he was a biker, or at the very least, affiliated with them, but maybe he wasn’t corrupted. Not yet at least, especially if he just moved here. You suddenly felt bad. Maybe he fell in with them recently, just trying to make friends. You could warn him, introduce him to your and Eva’s friends. Maybe keep him from going down that path. You felt your face soften and Peter took notice of it too as a small smile played on his lips.

“Okay. Okay, dinner,” you agreed, even surprising yourself. But feeling confident, more so than you’d ever felt before. His face lit up and he grinned even wider.

“Dinner,” he nodded. “Oh, can I get your number?” he asked.

You took out your pad of paper and wrote your number down for him. He took the small piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. “Are you free on Saturday?”

“After 7, yeah.”

“Cool, well then, I’ll uh, I’ll text you and we’ll plan something for Saturday, then,” he said and you nodded in response. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the ringing of the bell on the entrance door stole both of your attention and when you turned to see who it was, assuming it to be just another random customer, your eyes went wide and your breathing quickened. You quickly turned back to face Peter and when you did, you saw his eyes wide as your own and he looked almost scared. You furrowed your brow in confusion but the sound of Bucky’s voice calling Peter’s name suddenly pulled it into perspective. He was obviously already in deep with these guys. Because of course he was.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? You have ten minutes to get to the clubhouse. And Steve isn’t a very patient man, especially not when it comes to prospects. Get your ass out of here, and hurry the fuck up,” he said gruffly as he approached the two of you.

The diner was nearly cleared out already, but the last two tables got up to leave right as Bucky walked in. As you felt him close behind you, you saw Peter’s mouth moving as he responded to Bucky, but you couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You hated to admit it to yourself, but fear started coursing through your veins at the mere sight of him. You cursed yourself for it, but, realistically, you should have expected this response. The other bikers weren’t anything to you, they didn’t scare you anymore. But Bucky. Bucky was a different story. You started to try and calm yourself down, and that’s when you took account of what you truly were feeling at the moment. Fear, sure. But also, nervousness? Anticipation, but of what?

Something, something, “Saturday,” was all you heard before Peter was rushing out the doors. You suddenly felt hands on you and you immediately moved to walk to the back. There was only half an hour left in your shift, you were sure they’d be fine if you left early. You don’t know why you thought he’d just let you walk away, but you had to try. His hands held tighter on your waist as he pulled you back, further into him than you were before, his chest to your back. Your breath hitched and you stood still against him. “My shift is over, I’m leaving,” you said.

“Shift’s over? Great timing, then. You can have a seat with me,” he replied as he pushed you into the booth Peter had just occupied.

“What do you want,” you said harshly. You were terrified of the man, but you refused to show him that ever again. So you put on your bravado of toughness and irritation instead.

“Got a date with Peter, huh? You got fucked once and your confidence really shot up, didn’t it sweetheart,” he mocked.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it getting fucked, I’d call it getting raped,” you seethed with venom in as hushed a whisper as you could manage.

“You’re being dramatic, doll. We both know you enjoyed it,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“So I’ve been told.”

You sat there for a moment refusing to look at the man across from you until his hand gripped your chin and forced you to look at him.

“What. Do you. Want?” you slowly repeated yourself while maintaining eye contact with him.

“You remember that date I was telling you about? I was really looking forward to it, but god damn if you didn’t ruin it for me. She gave it up surprisingly easily, but while I was fucking her all I could think about was you,” he started but before he could continue, you scoffed, ripped away from his grip and got up out of your seat, moving as quickly as you could to the back. “Are you insane?” you said as you rushed away. Before you got to the door, Bucky grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you into the bathroom, not far from the back door you were trying to reach, locking the door behind him.

He shoved you against the wall harshly as he kept you there with his body pressed to yours, hands once again finding your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, stop pretending. You’re only gonna get yourself hurt,” he said before nuzzling into your neck. “You know.. I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking soft you are,” he said as his hands made their way down your body, squeezing and feeling you up just like he had before.

“Stop,” you muttered as you tried futilely to stop his hands.

“Please, I just wanna go home, please,” you begged him as he started nipping softly at your neck. He pulled back and stood to his full height, towering over you while he held you against the wall. His hands returned to your face as he leaned down and surprised you with an intense kiss, that you didn’t mean to reciprocate, but definitely did. Your mouth responded before your mind could and you found yourself fully making out with Bucky against the wall of the bathroom. He only pulled away when you were both out of breath and he gripped your jaw meanly, forcing you to meet his powerful gaze as you struggled to regain your breathing. “You’re not going out with Peter,” he said harshly. “Do you understand me?” he asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business or concern,” you responded in as even a tone as you could.

He laughed dryly while he continued to stare down at you.

“You’re not going out with Peter.” he repeated calmly before he leaned closer and softly kissed your forehead, causing you to shudder. “Go,” he said and nodded to the locked door, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

And with that, you sidestepped and unlocked the bathroom door and walked quickly to the back, you couldn’t believe the one day Eva took off this would happen. You grabbed your things and then rushed to your car. You saw Bucky on his bike to the right of the diner front, watching you, but you rolled your eyes, ignored him and pulled out of your spot and headed home.