#i think i said i was going to do this last year and never did it bc i tried to put too much effort in. like a fool

[444rlert]

attitude.

pairing: bronx native!connie x black fem!yn

synopsis: running your mouth while drunk and getting testy with connie wasn’t your brightest idea.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: marni here HEYYY! it’s been a year & a half since publishing my hobo eren smut and after much speculation, i realized i’m not done with tumblr LMFAOOO. i got too much nasty shit to think and write about so enjoy bronx connie fucking your shit up. please be at least 17+ when interacting with my works. much love, marni <33.

content warning: dirty talk (eng & spa), big dick!connie, cervix kissing, he’s a little mean, creampie, mirror fucking, backshots, rough sex, praise, degradation, thumb in booty action (my fav), floch, implied masturbation, recording, choking, dumbification, probably many typos of mine

[2:29am]

another moan left your lips as connie drove his dick deeper than the last stroke, nudging against your cervix with a nasty wet squelch before he pulled back out and let his tannish-brown dick rest between your fat asscheeks. the cream that coated it made him wanna nut, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

you on the other hand were shaking like a leaf from your other relentless orgasms, using this time to try and shuffle away from his demon dick before he snatched you back towards him.

“why you running ma? you told me i was too pussy to do something, right?” his accent was thick and low in your ear, making you clench around the cool air in your room. you knew connie was never one to back down from anything especially when involving you, but the drinks you had at the party earlier made you want to be testy with him.

———

INSTAGRAM

sheluvspringer replied to your story

the fuck??

why is floch mad close to you y/n 😐

you

1 thing you not is what? 🧏🏾‍♀️ say it w/ me: my nigga.

sheluvspringer

don’t ever fix your fingers to type that dumbass shit to me again y/n.

& floch? you need to do better🙎🏽‍♂️

you

make me? oh okay!

you ain’t on shit, you mad pussy bye

floch could do the shit you do & then some BYE LMFAOOOO 😭😭

sheluvspringer

ykw, you got it my heart 🙏🏾

safety, i’ll see you.

you

uh huh ‘preciate you gang 🙏🏾🙂‍↕️

THEY PLAYING MEG WAITITIT

IM ON THAT YAC I WANNA DANCE

seen.

———

and damn here you are now, getting fucked up. his nails digging into your waist made you squirm around, whining from the back of your throat cause you didn’t have time for his games, you wanted to keep going.

“c-connie please! ‘m sorry ‘m sorry ‘m sorry, won’t do it again please fuck me..!”

connie looked down at you, grabbing the base of his dick before guiding his tip over your wet slit slowly while tapping at it, almost twitching from the noises your pussy made and the strings that connected to him. he really did want to keep going, but he wasn’t feeling too nice at the moment and enjoyed your begging for his dick.

“tu coño está goteando ahora mismo. floch no puede follarte así, ¿verdad, nena?”

his spanish accent had your toes curling especially when you knew he said some foul shit. most times you’d be able to understand some of what he said, but your mind was too hazy around the fact that he was already already sliding back into your dripping entrance at a swift pace, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

connie lifted your head slightly, his tatted left hand wrapping itself around your neck to squeeze with his cool chain resting on your back. you caught the sight of yourself in your mirror and it was nasty; your bonnet was sliding off your head, drool was pooling at the side of your lips, your pierced nipples were out and hard with dark ass hickies scattered all over your chest, and connie was staring right at you while slowing his pace, making your pussy clench cause he was too fine.

toes curling and stomach locking up, your closed your eyes and let out a cry, his tip nudging your cervix again while you let out a couple of wet queefs. his laughs and heavy breaths filled the room as he slowed down, letting go of your throat before sitting back up to get a view of his creamed covered cock sliding out. “fuck, i’m digging you out that good mama?”

before you got the chance to answer, he thrusted back in and made you queef again, mumbling, “matter fact, hush up for me.” before letting spit gather on his tongue then letting it drop onto your asshole, using his free thumb to rub it around in time with his harsh paces again.

the male reached over and grabbed his phone, beginning to record with the flash on so he could see better for when he wants to watch on his own time, pointing it at your ass. if anyone else was in the room, all they would hear is ass clapping loudly against his hips, your winces and moans, and even his own moans and grunts.

“tell floch who’s treating your pussy right, bonita. tell him who.” he seethed, thrusts becoming harsher while you gasped and tried to push against connie’s stomach, but it didn’t work since he had his thumb hooked into your ass to pull you back.

“you better take all this dick, i’m not fucking playing with you.”

butterflies erupted in your tummy once you heard the lust and seriousness in his tone, moving your hands out the way before responding to his request the best you could, words coming out choppy and high pitched. “f-uck! you con- haah~! ‘m so close please please please ‘m sorry!”

“thereeeee we go, such a good girl for me aren’t you? should i let you cum?” a switch went off in your head as soon as you heard the word “cum”, babbling and begging getting louder. connie closed his eyes and felt his balls tighten up, signaling his release was close while also moaning from the warmth of your gummy walls squeezing his dick so good.

he pulled his thumb out to slap your ass roughly, pushing you further into the bed before setting the phone down to keep it recording, both hands resting on your hips before speeding his pace up, heavy balls repeatedly slapping your sensitive clit.

“cum with me baby, make a mess all over my dick.”

connie jabbed at your spot one last time, making your body lock up and tighten before whining loudly with tears running down your face as you creamed all over him. his thrusts slowed down to an eventual stop, moaning all kinds of spanish curses as he nutted inside.

he wasted no time in grabbing the phone, staring at it. “leave us the fuck alone.” and stopped the recording, ditching it before leaning down to wipe your tears and press soft kisses to your face.

“i’m right here pretty, you good?”

on floch’s end . . .

his phone dinged, making him raise a brow as he put his pencil down and went to open his messages, breath getting caught in his throat once he seen your ass getting fucked in the thumbnail. floch scrambled to find his airpods, putting them in his ears before pressing play and was already digging his hand in his sweats.

once floch saw connie’s strokes get rougher and your ass bubbling up each time, his dick grew harder while the tip became a soft pink color and began to leak precum out, his cheeks turning red from arousal before letting out a shaky breath.

yeah, he wasn’t getting work done no time soon.

[adrienneleclerc]

so i’ve been a virgin my whole life right, and my family (like true latino fashion) they always bring it up and makes jokes and my nickname about it. if i EVER say anything about losing my virginity, dios mío, no me avergüenzo. anyways my sisters always say that when im 25 they will give me a birthday that say new record 25 years of virginity. but i can’t help think that charles is celebrating your 25 with your family and see this and turns red, because he knows the truth 👀. and your sisters realize what is happening so the next week they give you a cake that say congrats on no longer being the virgin

Oh my god, I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It’s new, it’s unique, me encanta tu imaginación, de verdad. I am also a virgin, 21 years and counting, jajaja, haven’t been in a relationship either so this is going to be fun to write. I hope I did your idea justice!

The 25 Year-Old “Virgin”

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Where Y/N spends her birthday with her family who still think she’s a virgin with Charles, the boyfriend who made her not a virgin anymore.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: sorry it took so long, I try to make the Spanish as neutral as possible but I am Mexican and Peruvian so there will always be nods to my cultures, I am sorry.

Y/N was sleeping and turned over to hug to Charles but his side of the bed was empty and there was only a bouquet of white and pink roses. This made Y/N sit up in bed and check her phone. It was 8am, she put on her house slippers, took the bouquet in her hand, and walked into the kitchen for something to eat and she saw balloons, more white and pink roses, and Charles making breakfast to some piano music. Charles turned around and saw his girlfriend.

“Mon ange, you’re awake! Happy birthday, beautiful.” Charles said, leaving his station to give Y/N a quick kiss before finishing his cooking.

“This is amazing, muñeco, when did you wake up to do all of this?” Y/N asked, sitting at the kitchen counter.

“6am, i tried really hard not to wake you.” Charles said, serving Y/N’s breakfast on a plate and placing it right in front of her. “Your parents called, they want to host your birthday party at their house.” Charles said and Y/N looked shocked. Y/N and her family moved from New York to Monaco when she was 18, Y/N started dating Charles last year, a little after she turned 24, so Charles doesn’t know how her parents and sisters get.

“Are you sure we can’t just have a small party here?” Y/N asked.

“Mon coeur, I have never met your parents in person, I’ve only talked to them on the phone, I would love to meet them, we’ve been dating for almost a year.” Charles said.

“I know but you don’t know what they’re like.” Y/N said, eating her breakfast. “I’m glad that dating me made you a better cook, this is so good.”

“Ha ha, i asked my mom for cooking lessons since we started dating. Your parents want us at their house at 3.” Charles said.

“Fine, you pick out my outfit while I shower and do my hair.” Y/N said,

“You’re not gonna do your makeup?” Charles asked.

“It would be better if I didn’t,” Y/N said, knowing one of her sisters would probably push her head into the cake, it happened last year.

Y/N got out of the shower with her bathrobe on and she saw the what Charles left on the bed.

“You love seeing me in this dress, don’t you?” Y/N asked, picking up the dress.

“It makes you look so innocent like an Angel, even though we both know that’s not true.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“You and your innocence/corruption kink, it will ruin you, you know.” Y/N said, putting on a pair of panties and one of Charles’s shirts so she could do her hair and skincare routine.

“I think I’m the one that’s ruining you, Mon coeur,” Charles said.

“Yeah that, that right there is something you can’t say in front of my family. Are you wearing a suit?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I am, because we are going out of something goes wrong.” Charles said.

Y/N and Charles are outside her parents house, they knocked on the door and her mom opened.

“Ay, mi Lupita, how are you? Come in, come in, your sisters are picking up your cake.” Y/N’s mom, Hilda, said.

“Lupita?” Charles asked.

“I’ll explain later.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked into the house to see her dad, José, setting up the table.

“Mija, there you are! Happy birthday, mi niña chiquita, never had to worry about boys in the house with this one growing up. So charles how are you?” Jose asked.

“I’ve been good, it’s nice to see you in person.” Charles said.

“Same here, son. Come to the kitchen, you need to eat.” Jose said and Charles turned to Y/N.

“Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles said before entering the kitchen where Hilda made him a plate of tacos dorados de papa, pollo a la brasa, jalea de mariscos (mixed fried seafood so like calamari, clams, fish, shrimp, crab), white rice, French fries. Charles left the kitchen and sat at the dining table next to Y/N. “I’m gonna have to do so much cardio to burn this off. Maybe you’ll help me with that.” Charles whispered the last part in Y/N’s ear.

“I Can’t with you. But I really want jalea so I’m just gonna steal this piece of calamari.” Y/N said, taking a fried calamari ring from Charles’s plate. “Delicious! I’m gonna make my plate.” Y/N said, getting up and thats when her sisters, Maria Luisa and Angelica entered the house with the cake.

“Hola todos! Tenemos el pastel.” María Luisa said, putting her keys on the hook and walking to the kitchen. “Lupe! So good to see you, hermanita. You look good, love the dress, very you.”

“Charles! Nice to finally meet you, I hope being with Y/N isn’t too boring, you know.” Angelica said and Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to charles.

“Don’t listen to them, muñeco.” Y/N said before entering the kitchen to make her own plate of food, sitting down next to Charles.

The little “party” was going well, Charles was getting along with José, there were no jokes at Y/N’s expense, it was all great until.

“Okay, time to cut the cake.” Hilda said, bringing out the cake to place it in front of Y/N with the candles lit on the dinner table.

The cake read “New Record: 25 Years of Virginity”. Y/N looked up at Charles and covered her face with her hands while Charles’s face turned Ferrari red and he scratched the back of his neck. María Luisa and Angelica stared at Y/N and then at Charles. The two girls laughed.

“No manches! Ay mami, pásame algo para quitar el frosting, ya no creo que esto aplica a ella.” Angélica told Hilda. No fucking way. Mom, pass me something to scrape the frosting off, I don’t think this applies to her anymore

“Angelica!” Y/N yelled. “Que oso, neta, mejor ustedes se quedan con el pastel, Charles y yo tenemos planes. Muñeco, Let’s go.” Y/N said, getting up how embarrassing, seriously, y’all can keep the cake, Charles and I have other plans.

“It was nice meeting all of you.” Charles said, before leaving with Y/N.

“Usan protección!” Marcia Luisa screamed out and Y/N flipped her off, causing her sisters to laugh and their parents hit them upside the head. Charles and Y/N walked to his car and Y/N turned on the radio.

“So…that’s why your mom called you Lupita?” Charles asked.

“Yep, the Virgin Mary, La virgencita de Guadalupe, Lupita. Ugh, I’m so sorry about that, my sisters are…well, they’re my sisters.” Y/N said.

“It’s fine, Mon coeur, at least they won’t tease you anymore.” Charles said.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Can we still make it to our reservation?” Y/N asked.

“Yes we can, do you want cake for dessert? You can’t celebrate your birthday without cake.” Charles said,

“One slice should be good, let’s go.” Y/N said.

A week later, Y/N and Charles were sleeping, cuddled up together when they heard the doorbell ring.

“Mon coeur, get the door.” Charles moaned out.

“No way, muñeco, this is your apartment.” Y/N said, burying her face in his neck.

“Mon ange, I’m semi hard and I don’t think I should answer the door like this.” Charles said, the doorbell rang again.

“Alright, I’ll go.” Y/N said, kissing Charles’s neck.

“That’s not helping my situation.” Charles said.

“I know.” Y/N said, she got out of bed, put on her chanclas, and answered the door, her two sisters were holding a white box.

“Surprise!” They said. Y/N motioned for them to come in.

“Whats that?” Y/N asked.

“Well we felt bad about last week so we got you a new cake and some pan dulce.” Angelica said as María Luisa placed the box on the kitchen counter.

“Open the box, it’s your favorite flavor.” María Luisa said. Y/N hesitantly opened the box and when she saw the frosting she laughed.

“Se pasan, de verdad.” Y/N said. “But thank you. I’m sure Charles will get a kick out of this.”

“So…you lost your virginity to an F1 driver. I’m so jealous,” María Luisa said,

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky, he was so gentle to me. Now get out.” Y/N said,

“You’re so mean to us.” Angelica said.

“Dude, you guys are late for work.” Y/N said, showing her sisters the time.

“Oh shit we are, see you later.” María Luisa said, pushing Angelica out the door and running down the stairs. Y/N closed the door and that’s when Charles entered the kitchen in boxers where she can see his semi hard on.

“Your sisters came over?” Charles asked.

“Yep, and with a new cake for us.” Y/N said, Charles walked to the counter and saw the cake, she laughed lightly.

“Well i am glad that I got to be the one to ‘pop your cherry’, I hate that expression, by the way.” Charles said. Y/N walked to Charles, having one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest while charles placed his hands on her waist.

“It doesn’t matter. By the way, we never got to have birthday sex and I believe you need some bell with your situation.” Y/N’s said, trailing her hand from his chest to the elastic of his boxers.

“I guess we should fix that with some morning sex, don’t you think?” Charles asked in a flirtatious manner,

“Oh absolutely.” Y/N replied and Charles carried her to the bedroom.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It was very fun to write, not gonna lie. I also started watching Drive To Survive because if I don’t have F1 TV, I’m gonna keep myself entertained with something F1 related

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 15 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna felt safe at Bob's house. A few days there, and she was sleeping and eating better than she had in years. It all felt so easy. But for Bob, her presence was both a balm and a temptation that he didn't know how to handle.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, masturbation, 18+

Length: 6200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

On Wednesday morning, Anna woke up in some sort of warm cocoon. She didn't feel the drafty air on her face like she usually did when she slept on her mattress on the floor. She felt like she was being absorbed by some sort of soft, fancy bedding, and her pillow was moving slightly beneath her.

"Anna. We have to get ready for work."

She knew that voice intimately. It was sweet and sincere but laced with a bit of sleepiness she'd never witnessed before. She felt goosebumps on the back of her neck as she realized she must still be asleep and dreaming of Bob.

"Not yet," she mumbled. "I'm having a good dream."

Her pillow moved a little more as she tried her hardest to cling to the last threads of sleep. She didn't want to have to get up and leave this warmth behind. Especially not to go to work where Kevin could easily find her and make her life hell again.

"We have to get up."

Anna groaned and opened her eyes, and she instantly realized she wasn't in her bed, nor was she alone. She jolted, fingers grasping along what she thought was her pillow when in fact it was Bob's chest. With her hands braced on his shoulders, she tried to push herself off of him, and that's when she noticed he was smiling softly.

"What were you dreaming about?"

How was she supposed to answer that question? She was curled up on his chest, warmer and more comfortable than she ever remembered being in her life, and of course she'd been dreaming about him. It wasn't until that moment that she remembered why she was here, and then the smile that was forming on her own lips slipped away.

"We should get ready for work," she whispered, scrambling out of his bed. When she grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, she glanced back at him with his hands propped behind his head, his eyes following her every move. 

Was she insane? She should have insisted on sleeping in the other room. The problem was that she wanted Bob so badly, and even though he knew everything now, she didn't want to hurt him. She could deal with hurting herself, but not him again. But all she was going to be able to think about for the rest of the day was snuggling with him, and then she was going to have to come back here again tonight. He would probably insist on that.

She got ready as quickly as she could, changing into her work outfit while she was in the bathroom and then braiding her hair. When she opened the door, Bob was standing there in his flight suit with the sleeves tied at the waist, making her heart skip around in her chest. His unshaven face and messy hair had her practically panting, dying to reach out for him. And then his eyes trailed down to the bruises on her arm, reminding her that she would need to wear her cardigan again all day.

"I'll make breakfast," he promised. "Just give me a couple minutes to shave."

"Okay."

She took some time to separate out her dirty laundry, knowing she would need to take care of that later, and then she went downstairs. She started poking around in the refrigerator, trying to see if there was something she could start making so he didn't have to do it. Then Bob was there again, right behind her. When she looked at him, his soft hair was perfect, and his face was smooth.

"Do you like scrambled eggs?" he asked, looking past her into the refrigerator.

"I like everything," she told him, wishing she could just kiss him like she wanted to. 

"I can make them fancy with some cheese," he said with a cute little grin. "Maybe tomorrow if we get up earlier, I can do omelettes."

Anna wasn't going to make it. How was she supposed to just be here with Bob and not touch him? He knew about Kevin, and he was still being so lovely, she wanted to scream. "That sounds great," she whispered. "But you have to let me do the dishes later."

He agreed, and soon Anna was eating a hot breakfast, something she hadn't had in a very long time. And that wasn't all, because after she took the dishes to the sink, Bob insisted on packing her a lunch. In his own khaki green lunchbox that said TOP GUN BOB on it and had a velcro enclosure at the top. When he went to hand it to her, she threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she breathed, inhaling his scent and remembering how warm he kept her all night.

He chuckled and said, "It's nothing special. Jess should be here soon to pick you up. Will you... text me if Kevin shows up?"

Anna wanted to ask him what he would do about it if Kevin did in fact show up, but she simply promised him that she would let him know. Then Jess pulled up, and Bob handed her his spare house key which was on a twenty sided die keychain. She smiled down at her palm before looking up at him. "Have a good day, Bob." 

"I'll pick you up later if Jess doesn't bring you back here first."

She nodded, took one last look at him in his flight suit, and then ran out to Jessica's car at the curb with her work bag and lunch. "Good morning," Anna sang in a cheery voice, making her friend laugh. 

"Girl. Do I even want to know why you're staying with Bob?"

Anna sighed as she looked out the window at the neighboring houses as Jessica started to drive. "Kevin's in town, and he bruised my arm, and he tracked me down at work, and then he also knows where I live. But Bob pushed him against the wall, and I thought he was going to punch him, and then he insisted I come stay with him where it's more secure, and now I'm going to figure out how to get my manuscript."

Jessica swerved slightly. "What?!"

Anna laughed softly. "It's all good." And she honestly believed it was. For now. 

--------------------------

"Tally! Coyote at five o'clock low!" 

Nat responded seamlessly to Bob's commands, immediately dipping down below the horizon to get Javy on missile lock. Bob loved these kinds of drills, because he was always the fastest WSO to catch on to the training schemes. And Nat always followed his instructions, making her the fastest pilot to respond. 

Honestly, he felt like he was on cloud nine right now. Waking up to Anna's body draped across his and her cheek resting over his heart was almost too good to be true. He didn't move for twenty minutes while she continued to doze, rather he used the time to count her freckles in the soft, early morning light. He could have gladly stayed there all day, and he thought she would have as well. However, she did seem a little startled when she woke up fully, but when he handed her the lunch he packed, she was back in his arms one last time.

It didn't really matter though. He wouldn't touch her without permission. As Nat soard past Javy, Bob made a face. Clearly he wasn't opposed to accepting Anna's touches though. He just wished this whole scenario made more sense to him. Clearly Anna and Kevin were over. She told him as much before, but now Bob had seen it with his own eyes. He was absolutely disgusted by the way Kevin yelled at her, but it just made him want her more. And the fact that Anna wanted to keep fighting made him feel like he needed her.

"Bob! High or low?" Nat shouted, and he had to scramble to locate Javy again. 

"High! Eight o'clock high, Phoenix!"

With one swift maneuver, she took him out, and when they landed, she wrapped him up in a hug. "You're unbeatable today. Nobody else stood a chance." She narrowed her eyes and added, "You have a look about you. Oh my god! You got laid again! Don't tell me it was Anna."

She looked both delighted and terrified, and Bob just rolled his eyes. "Can't I look happy without getting laid?"

"Hmm, I know I can't," she said with a smirk. "Go ahead and keep your secrets," she murmured before running off to harass Bradley.

As Bob started walking back to the lounge, he dug his phone out of his helmet bag and almost tripped when he saw that Anna sent him a selfie of her eating lunch an hour ago. She was all smiles with the sandwich he made in her hand, and his heart thudded in his chest as he read the text accompanying it.

Anna Webber: Thanks for making me the perfect lunch. And you know that particularly good dream I had last night? It was about you.

"Fuck," he whispered, feeling even more exhilarated by his text thread than he did from being in the air. He dropped his bag at his feet on the tarmac and quickly typed back to her. 

I can try to make you another perfect lunch tomorrow. And if you decide you want to share my bed again and have another particularly good dream tonight, you should tell me about it as soon as you wake up. Before you get out of bed. 

He hit send. He had nothing to lose. Kevin could eat shit for all he cared. He would have pounded him into the wall if Anna didn't stop him. Not that he wanted to resort to violence himself. He just couldn't stand it when Anna was in tears getting screamed at.

"You coming, man?" Mickey asked, waving his hand in front of Bob's face. "I have something so cool I want to show you for our campaign. Jess will probably hate it, but I think it's great."

Bob followed him to the lounge, but he kept his phone in his hand just in case Anna wrote back, and when she did, he stood up and completely ignored Mickey's rambling. 

Jess said she can drive me back to your house since we're both done at 4:30 today. And if you're going to keep insisting I sleep in your bed, then I'm going to keep insisting we share it. Besides, I always feel better when you're around.

"Man, what is with you?," Mickey asked as Bob wandered all the way to the other end of the lounge, running his fingers through his hair. "Almost nothing can distract you from D&D."

"It's Anna," he said quietly, his heart doing cartwheels in his chest.

"Yep, that'll do it then," Mickey muttered. "As soon as she gets divorced, you better propose."

Bob knew his friend was teasing him, but the thought alone left him staring out the window, imagining all of her books in his house and sharing a bed forever.

-----------------------------

Anna felt so good, it was incredible. She had a delicious sandwich for lunch, complete with ham, swiss cheese and some sort of fancy multi-grain bread with spicy mustard. And that wasn't even it, because Bob also made her a little container of fruit salad. He packed peanuts and ginger ale too. She wasn't starving for dinner at 5:00 like she usually was, but the closer Jessica got to Bob's house, the more excited Anna got.

"Do you know what time he usually gets home? Does Jake get home at the same time every day?"

"Hmm, well the weather's good, so I'm sure they didn't get out early," Jessica replied. "Bob usually stops in the locker room to shower and change out of his flight suit on days when they are in the air, so I would guess he would be home just before six?"

"Okay," Anna said, trying to calm her excitement. While her students took their quiz earlier, she had some time to ponder and also daydream. According to the conference for the National Neurological Physicians Association, Kevin would probably be in town through Tuesday. She knew well enough now to know that whatever she planned on doing next, she would have to share it with Bob. The very subject of her daydreams. The cozy man she snuggled up with all night. She wanted to cook him dinner, but she needed to get to his house early enough to surprise him.

When Jessica stopped to drop her off, Anna hugged her quickly before picking up her bag and heading up the walkway with the spare key in her hand. "Make good choices when it comes to Bob!" Jessica shouted as she rolled down the window. "And when it comes to Kevin, too! You know what? Just make good choices in general!"

Anna waved as she unlocked the front door and ducked inside, locking it behind her immediately just as Bob had instructed. She had less than an hour to get something started for dinner, so she tossed her bag aside and ran for the refrigerator. He had everything. More groceries than she'd seen in months. Fresh vegetables and fruit and different kinds of cheese. Everything.

She found a pack of ground beef, a jar of tomato sauce and some spaghetti. It wasn't going to be the fanciest thing in the world, but she had time to make it. While the water boiled, she ran upstairs to get her laundry and brought it down. The small laundry room was near the kitchen, so she was able to start browning the meat and check on it while she loaded the washing machine.

Anna was running back and forth when she saw Bob's truck pull up through the front window. "Shit," she groaned. He was a little earlier than she thought he would be. She stuffed the rest of her clothes inside and then turned to lean back against the washing machine while Bob walked inside.

"Anna?" he called out, and her heart skipped a beat. What if this kind of thing could be normal for her? She could save up enough money to buy her own car again, and she could come back to Bob's house after work and wait for him to get home. They could eat dinner together.

"I'm doing laundry!" she called out, and a few seconds later, he was in front of her, leaning into the room while he held both sides of the doorframe. He was wearing snug, black gym shorts, sneakers and a white undershirt, and he smelled clean like soap. His biceps flexed as he held on and smiled at her.

"Are you cooking dinner?" he asked, cheeks a little pink as he let go of the doorway and stepped inside. When she nodded, he said, "You didn't have to do that."

Before she could stop herself, her hand found the front of his shirt, and his eyes went wide. "I wanted to," she whispered, bunching the cotton fabric against her palm and tugging slightly. Bob closed the distance between them, bracing his hands on the washing machine on either side of her. He was big and warm, and she knew she needed to be the one to make the next move to get his body touching hers.

Anna let her hand trail up his abs to his chest and around the back of his neck, his cheeks deepening in color with each inch, but he didn't move away. Then she pushed up onto her toes and kissed him, her lips barely brushing his. The front of his body met hers, pressing her butt back against the washing machine. He felt strong and solid, and the slippery fabric of his shorts met her other hand as both of his went to her hips. This is what she wanted, and she would make herself better and better until Bob deemed her good enough for him. If that's what it took, she would figure out a way to do it.

When she pulled away slightly after a few seconds, Bob's lips followed hers until she was treated to a kiss that was a little needier. A little bit rough around the edges. She gasped his name as she inhaled the smell of his clean skin, and then she said, "Oh, shit. Dinner."

As soon as she ducked out of his grasp, Bob let her run from the room toward the kitchen. She grabbed the spatula and checked to make sure the ground beef hadn't burned, and he was right behind her. 

"I'm trying to make you spaghetti," she told him, reaching for the jar of sauce which she struggled to open. "But I guess I could use your help." She wanted his lips back on hers, but she didn't want to rush anything, so she simply handed the jar over to him when he held out his hand. With one quick twist of his wrist, the lid popped. "Show off," she muttered, earning a laugh as she dumped the sauce into a pan. "There should be enough for Suzanne, too. If you want to invite her over."

Bob just looked at her with a smile. "That's sweet. I'll take a plate over to her. I think I'd rather it just be the two of us here tonight."

"Okay," she told him. Being alone with Bob right now was definitely something she could get used to.

---------------------------------

It had been so long since anyone else cooked for Bob, so this was a welcome surprise. Anna was just moving her clothing to the dryer when the timer went off for the pasta. "I'll take care of it," he said, just as she hung up a particularly intriguing looking black bra in his laundry room to let it dry. It was made out of sheer lace, and he immediately wondered if he'd be able to see her freckles through the fabric.

One kiss. It was just one kiss, and he was already dizzy over her again. But it was more than just the kiss. It was also her hand pulling him closer and the way she whispered his name. Bob dragged himself from his thoughts and plated the food she had cooked. He set everything on the table along with ginger ales, and when he went to get her from the laundry room, he saw that the bra had some matching panties with it now.

"Food's ready," he said, voice coming out even deeper than usual. 

Anna followed him to the table and took the seat across from him. "You know, I'm sure it's fine if you want me out of your space. I highly doubt Kevin is going to come looking for me again, especially after you scared him off yesterday."

Bob gripped his fork a little tighter. "I can't make you stay here. But I want you to. I want to know you're safe."

Her brown eyes were soft as she picked up her own fork. "Okay," she said softly.

"Okay," he replied, already feeling better again. 

Dinner was pretty quiet, just a simple exchange of what happened to both of them that day at work. When he asked if she'd heard from Kevin at all, she assured him she had not. Then he asked if she knew how long she thought he would be in California.

"Yeah," she told him as she collected the dirty dishes from the table. She unlocked her phone and set it down in front of him. "He's giving a closing speech on Tuesday morning, so he's probably heading back to New Jersey later that day." Bob looked at the tab she had opened and saw Kevin's name listed under a few events for each day, including a three hour dinner reception on Sunday evening. He was a busy man. It seemed like he'd done well for himself with all of Anna's money, and Bob just fucking hated him. 

He set her phone aside. "I'll feel better when there's some more distance between you and him."

A cute little smile found her lips as she took the dishes away. Bob let her clean up, but he couldn't stop walking past the laundry room and looking inside. Even after she sat down to correct quizzes while he took some food over to Suzanne, the lacy set was still hanging in there. Even after Anna folded her laundry and started organizing it in neat piles on top of Bob's bedroom dresser, he knew those two pieces weren't with the rest.

He would have kept thinking about it, but then Anna yawned and turned to look at him. "I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm either sleeping in here with you again, or I'm sleeping in the other bedroom."

Bob studied her pretty face and her messy braid. "Should I get in bed and wait for you?" She nodded and bit her lip before scampering out of his room toward the bathroom. Then he had to change for bed while she showered, and he started getting hard as soon as he touched the elastic band of his boxer briefs. Anna and all of her things were all over his house, and she'd only been here for a little more than a day.

When he looked down at his flat abs and saw his cock bobbing to attention, he didn't think he was going to have time to jerk off. "No, no, no," he whispered. He tossed his gym shorts into his hamper and tried to walk it off, but it was no use. He felt like a teenager as he dove into bed as soon as he heard her turn the shower off. With his eyes squeezed closed, he lay there on his back under the covers, trying to think about something unsexy. Doing push ups, going to the dentist, buying bulk cat food at Costco for Suzanne. 

He was working up a mental image of Mickey throwing up in the Hard Deck parking lot when Anna breezed back into his bedroom with damp hair and a white tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Not that he couldn't vividly recall her naked body beneath his. And the sounds she made when he fucked her. Bob tossed his glasses onto his nightstand with a groan, hoping that if he couldn't see how cute she looked in those ugly flannel pants, maybe he would get soft again. 

But that didn't happen, and a few seconds later, Anna was slipping into bed with him just like last night. And then she linked her fingers with his again. When he turned off the lamp, she curled up next to him, and his fingers brushed against her bare skin. Her knee nudged along the top of his thigh; a few more inches and she was going to be able to feel him.

"Good night," she whispered into the darkness, and he could tell her face was near his. 

When he turned his head toward her and whispered, "Good night," she surprised him with a kiss. One that lingered. Her body was halfway on top of his, fingers combing lazily through his hair, and there was no way she couldn't feel how his cock was pressing shamelessly against her leg. When she didn't stop kissing him, he brought his hand up to rest on her back. She treated him to kiss after kiss, but she didn't take it any further. That was okay with him; this was more than enough.

Her lips brushed his one last time before she settled in with her cheek resting on his chest, and soon she was asleep while Bob held her, wondering if there was some way he could help her get her manuscript so she could finally leave Kevin behind.

----------------------------

As the week wore on, Anna spent her free moments thinking about Bob and also trying to figure out if there was a way to defeat Kevin. She wanted access to her writing, because she wanted to move on with her life. However, she was starting to come around to the idea of just letting Kevin have it so she could have Bob. She was still bleeding money to her lawyers, and even though she was staying at Bob's place, she still had to pay the astronomically high rent to her landlord, too.

If she had to still be married to Kevin, then there had to be some sort of benefit to it. On Friday at lunchtime, she was thinking about it while she sat between her friends and ate the beautiful sandwich that Bob packed for her. She could tell both of them wanted more information than she'd been sharing about her week at Bob's house. Jessica was practically vibrating every day on the drive to campus, but Anna knew she didn't want to pry.

But it was her other friend who said, "That's another nice looking sandwich you have today. It looks like Bob has been spoiling you."

"He sure has," Anna said with a dreamy sigh.

"Does that mean you're sleeping together?!" Jessica asked, her voice getting an octave higher at the end of the sentence.

Anna hummed and licked some mustard from her lip. "Define sleeping together."

"Fucking!" Jessica hissed. "Are you fucking?"

"No. But we are sleeping together," she replied with a smile.

"What does that mean?!"

"I think it means they are literally sleeping together," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot stick into the spicy hummus Bradley made. "Beer Boy said Bob looks like he won the lottery every morning, so I would assume that's why. And I would also assume that they are making out. Maybe a little under the clothing action going on?"

Anna was blushing furiously as her friend casually bit into the carrot stick, and Jessica nearly fell off the bench. "That's um.... well maybe just a tiny bit of the under the clothing part, but the rest is pretty accurate."

"Okay," Jessica said while slapping her own thigh. "You could have told me this when I drove you in every day this week! And I hope you know Bob loves you."

Anna smiled. She felt more confident than she had in years. She finally felt like she could let go of the one thing she thought she needed, because she found other things and other people that made a difference in her life. "That's convenient, because I'm in love with him, too. And I think... once I know Kevin is back in New Jersey and won't try to corner me again... I think I'm going to just finalize the divorce as is."

"Your manuscript!" both women gasped in unison.

Anna nodded. "I know, but I think I need to let go of it and just move on."

Neither of her friends mentioned it again after that, for which she was grateful. After she gave her afternoon lectures and started to pack up for the weekend, she got a text from Bob.

Bob Floyd: I'm on my way to pick you up. Pizza for dinner?

She wrote back and told him that was fine as long as he let her pay for it, and thirty minutes later, there was a soft knock on her office door. "It's Bob," he told her, and she threw the door open and pulled him inside by his khaki collar. 

He didn't hesitate or try to stop her as she kissed him with both hands in his hair before she whispered, "Hi, Bob."

He was all smiles after that, and his hand was at her lower back as she locked the door behind them and headed toward the elevator. He pulled her a little closer as she told him about her day and thanked him for making her lunch. 

"So I'll pay for the pizza. Did you order it already?"

"Yep," he replied as they held hands in the elevator. "It'll be ready in ten minutes."

But when they got there, she realized Bob had already put it on his credit card. "You're impossible," she told him as she shoved five bucks into the tip jar.

"I'm not going to apologize for buying us a pizza," he said casually, and it turned out to be one of the best pizzas Anna had ever had in her life.

They sat side by side on the couch with paper plates and napkins while they watched Pride & Prejudice. "New Jersey is supposed to have good pizza," she whispered in awe.

Bob just shrugged and said, "I think southern California might be superior."

"In every way," Anna whispered before she finished her crust. She loved it here. She loved her friends and her job. She loved Bob. She knew what she had to do now, and she knew it would be okay. "You know what else southern California has?"

"Enlighten me," he said as he wiped his hands with his napkin.

"A surplus of men in uniforms," she said, running her finger down his sleeve and along his name tag. "I didn't know how much I'd like these things." Bob was blushing as she kissed his cheek. "But I liked you way before I knew you were in the Navy." 

She was thinking of him as Sky Writing as he turned and kissed her, and once again, they ended the evening in his bed. And this time, there was a lot more touching under their clothing.

-------------------------------

Bob looked at Anna as she moaned in delight while she ate the soup he made for dinner on Saturday. It was pouring rain, and he didn't feel like going out to play Dungeons & Dragons. He wanted to stay inside where it was warm. Where Anna would end up in his arms after they cleaned up the kitchen.

"What time do you have to leave?" she asked him, and he thought he saw a little flash of sadness on her face. 

"In about a half an hour." He took the chance and added, "I don't have to go. I could stay here."

"No! Mickey and Jess will be devastated! She told me so much about her Barbarian on the drive to work yesterday, she'll never get over it if you skip tonight. Besides, I have something I can do to keep myself busy."

"Alright," Bob agreed. "But I probably won't be home before eleven, so you don't have to wait up."

He helped wash the dishes and went to search for the umbrella he hardly ever had to take out with him. He packed up his dice and character sheet and put his shoes on. When he found Anna again, she was curled up on the couch with one of his books. 

"You love poetry," he told her as he ran his thumb along the back of her hand. 

"I love some poetry," she whispered. "I love your poetry."

He wanted her to say she loved him. He thought she did. Everything was moving along now, but Kevin was still in California, and Bob wasn't sure exactly how to go about all of the details with Anna. So he simply said, "I'll be back in a little bit. Keep all the doors locked? Call me if you need me?"

"I will."

He took one last look at her freckles and her big, brown eyes, and then he ventured out into the wet night. He offered to pick Jessica up since she'd been driving Anna around all week, but she said she'd drive herself there. He was surprised she didn't want to pump him for all of the information related to him and Anna, but perhaps Anna had already told her? The idea of that made him a little warm. He wondered what she might have said. Obviously they had already had sex last month, but this time it felt exactly right when they touched and kissed each other.

God, Bob really hated Kevin. The bruises on Anna's arm were finally fading to yellow. And she didn't seem as worried now. It was obvious that she was comfortable in his house, and he wanted her there. He didn't know how he was going to make it through several hours of this campaign tonight when she was all snuggled up on his couch.

When he arrived and got ready to play, he thought maybe she had moved to his bed by now. He could picture her in those ugly pants, her nipples peaked against her cotton tank top. Her red hair impossibly dark. 

"I said you need to roll for initiative."

Bob looked up and quickly picked up his twenty sided die. He was distracted and rolling like shit tonight, and he kept relying on everyone else to bail him out of each round of fighting. He could barely even pay attention to the story, and that was usually his favorite part. Jessica had to keep poking him in the side when he was supposed to take his turn.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I'm thinking about Anna. I can't stop thinking about her," he muttered. "She's... probably already in bed, and being there with her as we fall asleep together is kind of my new favorite thing."

Jessica cleared her throat and loudly announced. "My stomach hurts. So bad. Can we stop a little early tonight?" 

She was literally the worst liar in existence. She was even worse than Bob. He was trying not to laugh as everyone nodded sympathetically at her as they started to pack up. "Thanks," he murmured, and she just winked at him as she adjusted her glasses.

"No problem. Go home and snuggle."

He drove carefully back home in the rain until he was passing through the deserted streets of his neighborhood. He parked right in front of Suzanne's car like he always did, and he killed the engine. Maybe he should just tell Anna how he felt, although he was sure she already knew. He didn't exactly need to hear the words back, but he wanted them to be out there. He didn't even need a title on whatever their relationship was, but he didn't want it to be nothing either.

Quickly, he dashed through the rain, shooed Sylvester inside his neighbor's front door before closing it, and then he unlocked his own door. The living room was dark unlike earlier, and at first he didn't hear anything.

"Anna?" he called out softly as the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. He froze when he realized he heard a voice coming from upstairs. Halfway up the steps, he realized it was her, and she sounded distraught. "Anna," he gasped, taking the steps two at a time until he was standing on the top landing.

She was definitely in his bedroom, and he almost tripped as he lunged for the door, pushing it open just in time to hear her moan his name.

Bob's jaw dropped open at the sight before him. Anna was spread out on the middle of his bed, red hair all over the place, and she was wearing nothing but that black bra and panty set he hadn't been able to stop thinking about. Her eyes were squeezed shut tight, hand tucked in the front of her underwear as she stroked her clit and turned her face until it was buried in his pillow. He watched her inhale deeply as his hand rested on his hard cock which was pressing against the fly of his jeans.

"Fuck," she grunted after thrashing around a little bit in his bed. She still hadn't seen him yet, but his gaze was fixed firmly on her body. "Fuck me, Bob," she moaned, and he stumbled forward. "Oh, god. I want you!"

Her back arched slightly off the bed as he took another step closer, unzipping his pants. He no longer had to wonder if he'd be able to see her freckles through the sheer fabric. He definitely could, which made the little black set even sexier, but he also wanted her naked. He wanted to be inside her. He watched as she came on her own fingers. 

"Anna," he groaned as his hand met his length, and her eyes snapped open as she yanked her hand back out of her panties.

"Oh my god!" she practically shrieked, face flushing pink. "Bob! You're back early!"

He nodded and watched her wide eyes as she realized he was stroking himself. "I wanted to come back home as soon as I left. I wanted to be with you. And now I want to fuck you."

"Oh," she sighed, getting up so she was kneeling in the middle of his bed, licking her lips like his most depraved fantasy. Her hair was a mess, and her nipples were hard peaks as she nodded and came crawling toward him. Her breath ghosted along the tip of his cock as it hung out of his jeans. She looked up at his face, licked at his precum and said, "That's exactly what I want you to do."

------------------------------

Get. It. Bobby. Leave no doubt in her mind that you love her, but get it, baby. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[leclerity]

you kiss him first

Charles Leclerc x Former Childhood Friend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you talk about the reasons why you haven't seen each other in ten years... and there may have been some miscommunications all this time. a/n: another angsty one, with another happy ending, as always - thank you for all the support on the fics so far!

The Monaco air is crisp as you step out of the door, leaving the laughter of your parents and family friends behind. You note you forgot how warm Monaco can be, even in the evenings, and Charles Leclerc laughs, reminding you that you’ve been away for too long.

Certainly long enough for childhood friends to become distant acquaintances, at best.

“It’s weird to think we used to play around these streets,” you say. “We were so stupid. It was dangerous!”

“Well, we were kids.” Charles shrugs. “We thought we knew best.”

He leads you away from his parents’—now mother’s—house and after a moment, you recognise the route as your old path up the hills, to the best vantage points the city could offer. You climb with the expertise of someone whose feet have wandered up the trails a million times before, even if it’s been a decade since the last time.

“I always thought we might get hit by a car someday, but I didn’t care,” you say. “And look at you now, driving cars for a living.”

“Means I get hit by more often than an average person. So, you were right.”

“Right. Just like always.”

“Yeah. You were always right, you know.”

Something about the way he says it, looking at the hill beneath his feet instead of you, sends shivers down your spine.

The further outside the city you go, the quieter it gets. Dozens of memories fly past your eyes, all of the same hike, with the same person by your side, only a child, a teenager.

“What was I right about?”

Charles doesn’t look at you, nor does he answer. You keep hiking in silence and you find yourself getting antsy, fidgeting with a loose string hanging off your t-shirt.

When you get to the top, it’s peaceful. It always has been. You see the whole city from here, all of the lights shining brighter as the sun sets in the distance, and you can’t help but wonder – what went wrong?

So you ask.

He laughs, but it’s nervous. When you look at him, his white shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the khaki shorts look too expensive against the dirty ground. He’s still got the same pretty face, the dimples in his smile, but he’s a far cry from the boy you grew up with.

“I don’t see the point in talking about it now,” he says.

“If not now, when? It’s been ten years already.”

“Never,” he says. “If I can choose.”

You turn to face him, the sights of Monaco be damned. “Why? We were good, Charles. I was supporting you with your karting, you were supporting me with all the hobbies I ever did…”

“We were good,” he agrees, but it’s almost sad. As if there’s no way back. As if whatever happened, it’s irreversible.

“No, you don’t get to just up and decide you’re never going to speak to your best friend again. You just… You don’t get to do that!”

“You’re right,” he says, nodding. “You’re right.”

“So what’s the issue?! I mean, I thought you were going to be by my side at the altar someday!”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling again, but you can see the watery reflection in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you, and for a moment you wonder what was it that you said that was enough to make him cry, and…

“That was the issue,” Charles says, softly. “I’d be by your side.”

You feel yourself frown. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“No. It’s not.” He looks at you and you finally see the tears, the redness of his cheeks, and the emotion he’d been restraining for who knows how long. “I didn’t want to be by your side.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N—”

“No. It’s okay. I get it.”

You move a little further from him, pretending your heart hadn’t just been stabbed, but he scoots right back next to you.

“Y/N, let me finish.” When you don’t say anything, he adds, “I wanted to stand opposite of you. That was the issue.”

“Opposite of—oh.”

The past rewrites itself in your head, all those little moments that ever confused you suddenly being crystal clear. You see all the hints you missed or saw and ignored – the refusals to talk about your crushes, the distancing that began when you got into your first relationship, even though it lasted not even two weeks…

And the absence of contact when your family moved away.

“Charles,” you say. “What are you—I don’t understand—”

“You didn’t see me the way I saw you,” he says, “and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

And—in a moment of unprecedented courage—you look him straight in the eyes. “Who says I didn’t?”

A look flashes over your face that tells you he’s experiencing a rewriting of the same kind you experienced moments ago. The moments when you held his hand for a little too long as a kid, when you cheered him on the track even when you were supposed to be on a date, when you listened to him vent about his brothers. You know these moments – and you hope that now, he can see them for what they were, too.

You put a hand on his cheek. He leans into it immediately, as if coming home.

“You know,” you whisper, “I don’t think there’s a moment of my life I didn’t love you. Even the past ten years… All I could do was miss you.”

“Me, too,” he says. “I hated myself for staying away, but I had to. I thought I had to.”

“If you just asked…”

He laughs, again, and it’s nervous all the same – but his hand is on your knee and he’s leaning in, and the air between you is charged. “Asked what? ‘Hey, Y/N, how’s your day? Also, do you happen to be in love with me, too?’ Is that what I should’ve asked?”

“Yes. And I would’ve said yes.”

He sighs; his eyes drop to your lips. “You’re telling me I wasted ten years because I was afraid?”

“Both of us were.”

“So, now…”

You become acutely aware of the distance between the two of you – all it would take is to lean in, ever so slightly, and the friendship barrier would be crossed. As if it hadn’t been crossed all those years ago, before you even knew what love or friendship were.

You smile. “Now you kiss me.”

“Tempting,” he says. “There’s one problem, though.”

“There is?”

Charles’s smile mirrors yours, wide and delighted. “I’m afraid if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you say, and you kiss him first.

[milla-frenchy]

And all that could have been

1k4 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: the memories of you don’t leave Javi, reminding him of his past mistakes

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv, creampie, mentions of SA (not by Javi), no age specified. Pics for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. Writer chose not to use all warnings

a/n: this is for @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge 🥳 Prompt was "last kiss/Javi p"

Thank you @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation 🖤 @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @morallyinept for your amazing Javi character database and dialogue 🌻 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

The title and some sentences said by Javi are from And all that could have been by Nine inch nails

Javi was at his apartment with Helena. She was a hooker and one of his informers, but she meant more than that. He cared about her, and they saw each other regularly at his place.

“¿Qué harás este fin de semana?” (what are you doing this weekend?), he asked her.

“Iré a Medellín” (I’m going to Medellin)

“Bueno, tendré que buscarme otra” (I guess I’ll have to find another girl)

“Buena suerte con eso. Todas nos vamos a Medellín” (good luck with that. We’re all going to Medellin)

His heart sank and worry crept into him. Sensing a very familiar feeling, which had never left him since last year.

“¿Helena? ¿De quién es esta fiesta?” (whose party is it?)

Anxiety took over him, past events playing over and over in his head. Haunting him. And he thought about what happened a year ago. What happened to you.

You didn't plan for any of that. Neither Javi nor you did.

At first, he was a client almost like the others, except that he worked for the DEA, and bit by bit he asked you for information on the sicarios. He always treated you right, never made you feel uncomfortable. You had other clients and you weren’t the only hooker he used to fuck.

You got to know him and trust him as the weeks passed, as he also seemed to, until you realized that he was no longer fucking anyone but you. You used to see him in his apartment more and more often, and less and less at the brothel. When his cock was buried in your core and his eyes looked with yours, his gaze was different. Soft and caring.

One night at his place he lit a cigarette and was smoking it by the window. Looking thoughtfully at the city lights as you were lying in bed, naked, admiring all of him. The muscles of his back, his shoulders, his tanned skin.

When he sat on the bed, his thigh against yours, his hand caressed your stomach which was gradually returning to normal breathing. 

“¿Por qué no paras?” (Why don’t you stop?), he asked.

It wasn't exactly jealousy or possessiveness, more of a concern. You both knew what that implied. You had always been careful not to talk about those feelings you both felt. Scared that it would complicate everything.

He used to try to make you stay at his apartment longer and longer, but of course you always had to return to the brothel. To make some money. To have sex with the men you hated and who disgusted you. Trying to make it bearable you were thinking of something else. You were thinking of Javi.

“Renuncia a tu trabajo” (quit your job),” he finally asked one day.

“No puedo, Javi” (I can’t, Javi)

The more weeks and months with Javi passed, the less you could bear to go back to the brothel. But what other choices did you have? Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you batted your eyelashes to try to hold them back.

“You could stay here, with me. You don’t need to go back.”

“You know I can’t. They would find me, and God knows what they would do to me.”

“I’ll protect you. You know I would never let anything happen to you.”

You hugged him as the tears fell, unable to hold them back any longer. You wanted to quit your job and stay with him, but it was impossible. They made sure to let you know what happened to the girls who tried to leave.

“Necesito sentirte dentro. Porfa, Javi.” (I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Please.)

He caressed your cheek and wiped your tears like only he knew how to do. He kissed you with his warm, luscious, caring lips. Soft and delicate. When he lay between your legs you wrapped them around his waist to feel him deeper. His nose brushed against yours, and he kissed your forehead. Your hips were leading a perfect slow dance. He rubbed himself against you in the way he was sure would make you cum. His eyes fixed on yours. The eyes of a man in love, and you started to cry again.

“Don’t cry, hermosa (beautiful). I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to go back there. Do you trust me?”

You trusted him. With all your heart. You wiped your tears and took his cheeks in your hands.

“I do, Javi.”

He leaned towards you and kissed you, until you came on his shaft, your pussy squeezing him perfectly and making him moan, and you felt his jolts at each rope of cum, painting your walls.

You didn't go back, he took you to a safe house. He exfiltrated you.

And for several days, you only saw Javi.

That evening you laughed and the atmosphere was as light as a summer breeze. You looked at each other smiling like teenagers, and he kissed your hands. Then he held you tight against him. You felt safe and free.

Later that night, as your hips rolled while riding him, you leaned into him and said, “dame un beso” (give me a kiss).

He caressed your cheek as your hands ran through his hair and you kissed. You needed to feel him more. Deeper. You moved away from him and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as his hands caressed your hips. He slipped into you, in one slow, deep thrust. No one had ever brushed your walls the way he did. Without brutality, without clumsiness, without impatience, without hurting you. Just in a perfect way, like he always knew what to do. Stroking your clit when you needed it, until you came on his cock. His torso enveloped your back and he kissed your skin, before quickly thrusting in to claim you, grunting. 

You just knew that you belonged to each other, in the healthiest, most beautiful way.

In the early morning, he kissed your forehead and lightly stroked your cheek to not wake you up, and left for the office.

In the afternoon, you heard a knock on the door, and thought Javi had forgotten his keys. Your hand grabbed the handle of the white door and you opened it without taking the time to think.

It wasn't Javi.

In the late afternoon, his colleagues told him that a hooker had been killed by sicarios. His heart sank and he almost puked, as if his gut instinctively knew who he would find there. When they lifted the sheet, he fell to his knees on the ground.

Your mutilated and bruised body lying on its back left no doubt about what you had suffered. What they had done to you.

He went back to his apartment and drank until he couldn't remember his name.

A few days later, he visited your grave and placed white flowers on it.

He thought about how he had kissed your forehead that morning. Not knowing that it would have been the last kiss he had ever given you.

“In my nothing, you meant everything to me”, he murmured.

When the memories finally faded, he realized Helena had already left his apartment.

During the following days he had been organizing surveillance in Medellin, with Carillo and Steve. Taking photos, watching the Sicarios arriving one by one at the hotel.

Hours passed without news of Helena, and worry tightened his heart. He couldn't relive that. He was consumed with anxiety.

When he finally found her, he shot the man who was abusing her. Rushed to cover her bruised body. He failed once again, even though he arrived in time for Helena, he wasn’t able to prevent what had happened to her. 

He thought of you, not a day he had not. He thought of all that could have been.

When he visited your grave, and saw that only his last faded bouquet was there, he couldn't hold back his tears.

“I can still feel you, even so far away” he breathed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”

And he chose to let his anger consume him, rather than letting the tears flow. On his knees in the cemetery, he screamed. He was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white.

He would dedicate his life to bringing them all down. Even if it meant falling with them. But one thing was sure: Gacha would fall before him.

***********

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[kimarii-00]

Regrets and Punishments (2)

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he really did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language, guns/shooting, blood, violence, suggestive scenes (?), eventual happy ending

❥Word Count: 4.8k (2k words more than the last one ;))

❥Part 2/2

PART 1

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AN: I did not expect all the support for the first part, thank you guys!! I hope this last part was worth all the hype! Enjoy!!

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“(Name),” Kelly begins, “I’m so sorry I–”

“What the hell do they even want with her? She’s a fucking child. Four! Four fucking years old,” As angry as you were right now, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, “I can’t… What if they hurt my baby?”

“They’re probably going to use her as some sort of backup in case their plan with Mike’s wife goes south…”

In all honesty, you think you had a hunch on why they took Demi. Because he’s her father… They must’ve done their research…

You’re surprised Armando hasn’t pressed you more by now about Demi. He must’ve had questions because last time he checked, you didn’t have a kid, so from his perspective, in the years he was gone you either must’ve hooked up with some guy and had his kid, or the passionate night you two shared before he left must’ve really paid off…

“(Name) I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to Demi,” Kelly said in an attempt to sooth your motherly insticts. You felt nausious but you appreciated that you weren’t in this alone. Kelly had always been there for you, especially when the father of your child left and you found out you were pregnant with his kid a week later. She was there for you when nobody was. She had helped you through depressive episodes so you wouldn’t stress yourself and end up hurting the baby, she was there for you when you went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. She was there when the loud cries filled the room when the doctors popped Demi out of you.

Thinking of this only made you angrier, because it was wrong that you had to rely so much on your best friend instead of the man that was supposed to be Demi’s father, and now, because of his involvements with these people, your daughter has been taken. She has nothing to do with this.

You wipe your face, trying to get the tears to stop falling but they just wouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Armando looking at you with an expression that you can’t read but when he notices that you’ve seen his antics, he averts his attention elsewhere. You can’t help but think that he wants to say something to you, but you can’t bring yourself to care in this moment.

As much as you’d like to deny it, deep down you still have feelings for that man. But there are many reasons as to why you can’t just happily jump back into his arms and ask him to take you back.

Right now, you have more than yourself to worry about. You have Demi, and if you were going to get with a man, she deserves to have someone that will care and love her and right now, you aren’t sure that man could be Armando.

You aren’t paying much attention to the group as they talk about a plan to get the hostages back, you aren’t in your right mind and it seems everybody notices that. All you can think about is your little girl.

Mike looks at his son, and even though they don’t have the deepest relationship, he can tell that the boy is worried for you. He still isn’t entirely sure what you and him are to each other, but he can definitely tell that seeing you as broken as you are now is breaking something in Armando himself. He makes his way to Armando’s side and slightly nudges his side to get his attention.

“Go talk to her,” he says, gesturing to the grieving woman, “You two clearly have things to discuss, you better get it out of the way before we start making moves.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Armando grumbles, his eyes wandering to your person for what felt like the hundreth time in the last ten minutes.

“You never know until you try–”

“I did try, she told me to get the hell away from her.”

“Listen man, I don’t know what your relationship is with her, but what I do know is that if you don’t talk to her now, you might not get another chance to.”

Armando takes in his fathers words, contemplating his options and realizing that he really only has two: Not talk to you and then potentially die before he gets the chance to, or two, talk to you know and list the weight thats been on his chest ever since he saw you walk through that front door.

He decides that he would probably come to regret picking the latter, but his feet are gliding him toward where you sat with Kelly before he could find some excuse as to why he should wait until later to have this inevitable conversation.

You don’t seem to notice him until he’s standing before you, yet you don’t lift your head. Kelly does, however, and gives him a certain look that read, “If you hurt her more than she’s already hurting, I swear I’ll kill you”. He nodded to her, and she hesitantly nodded back. She rubbed your back in a comforting way one last time before standing up and walking toward the rest of the group. Armando took her place next to you.

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you. It’s a mix of awkward and comfortable silence between you two before you break it by suddenly speaking up.

“She’s yours,” You say without warning. You decided that you’d rip the band-aid off and quell any thoughts about you hooking up with some other guy that he might’ve had, “Her name is Demi. She’s four… She’s yours.”

“...I had a feeling,” He starts, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything and wait for him to expand. You wait for his to say anything to help you understand why he left you. Why he abandoned you and your unborn child. But he says nothing.

You sigh, “Why’d you do it?” You sounded tired. You didn’t want to argue. You just wanted him to help you understand his decision all those years ago.

“I got caught up in some shit. Fucked with the wrong people.”

“Yeah no shit,” You spit out.

Silence overtakes you both once again.

“You didn’t even leave a text,” You say quietly, “Y’know I waited for you. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, yet you never came home. Never.”

Up until this point your head had been in your hands, trying to soothe your pounding headache, but now your gaze laid on his face, making direct eye contact. You let him see your stinging red eyes from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“I didn’t want to involve you in my shit. I didn’t want you to end up hurt because of me–” He begins, but you don’t take any of that bullshit.

“Yeah? Well I’m involved now, and guess who’s paying the fucking price? My– our child.”

This shuts him up. He doesn’t have anything to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

You scoff. Is that all he can offer you? After all he’s put you through?

“Was it even real?” You ask on a whim.

“What?” He questions.

“Us. Was it real? Since you found it so easy to just up and leave some random day?”

“You think that shit was easy?” He snaps, “I loved you– I love you so much, so how the hell could you say that me leaving you was fuckin’ easy?”

You flinched at the correction from loved to love, “You sure as hell made it seem that way.”

He startled you by grabbing your shoulders tightly. He turned you so you looked at him fully, eye contact as intense as ever.

“I had to damn near fight myself to not turn back and run into your arms again after I left you. I thought about you every fuckin’ day that I wasn’t around you. If I could go back, I swear I would’ve told my mother to fuck off if it meant that I could stay with you… with our child. But at the time I was a fucking idiot and I thought–” He had to stop his rambling for a moment to take a breath. You stared at him with wide eyes, he was never one to go on tangents like this, and you made no effort to stop him. “I thought that leaving was the best decision for you, for us, at the time and I planned on coming back. I really did. But everytime I even thought it was okay to return more shit kept happening and I just– I didn’t want you involved.”

You let him trail on with his words as you found comfort in his somewhat desperate hold in your shoulders.

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Armando concluded.

You avert your eyes down slightly, breaking the eye contact but he puts his finger under your chin to lift it back up. He doesn’t want you avoiding this conversation.

He isn’t sure what possessed him to lean down, shortening the distance between the two of you until there was nothing but a pocket of air seperating his lips from yours, but as he’s about to take the final step, you pull away slowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” You begin, unsure of what excuse your about to pull, “I can’t.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He nods in understanding, yet you immediately recognize the hurt in his eyes.

You pull away from his hands on your shoulders and he makes no move to stop you. You take a deep breath in, like you want to say something else before you part ways, but ultimately decide against it.

You say nothing as you walk back to the group, leaving him standing motionless behind you.

“As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with a plane to move the hostages to Cuba,” Mike spoke, going over the plan once more. Today was the day you took action to rescue the people that were kidnapped. Mike’s wife, the girl that was with her at the time– Callie, and…Demi. God… I swear if they did something to her… “The second they get close to the plane with the hostages, it’s quick kills. Neutralize all threats. These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops. They have my wife, they have Callie, and they have (Name)’s daughter.” You lowered your eyes at the aknowledgement.

“They attacked our families. We not losing today.” He concludes, and everyone nods their head.

You were partnered with the tech team in the van, watching the situation from drone footage. You wanted to be on the front lines to get rid of every fucker who thought taking your daughter was a good idea, but you were stuck inside of the van until extra help was needed.

You hear the helicopter pilot through your comms device in your ear, “I got one looking out the front door, right side, I got one sniper on the roof of building two.”

“T those up,” Rita says, who ended up joining the cause after realizing the man she was dating was with the enemy. You quickly code in a few commands for the drone to follow and before long you have eyes on the two mentioned. “Everybody keep moving. What are those?”

She points to the objects presented in the live map of the area, and you answer, “Gaters.”

“I thought it was an abandoned theater park?”

“Abandoned by humans,” Kelly jumps in while loading her gun.

You manage to find the parks webpage from when it was open and discover that the main attraction was an albano aligator named “Duke”. It was sixteen feet long, and there are stories about him still being there to this day.

“Well fuck that…” You mutter.

You watch from the drone as the main team lands in the water as planned, getting into position.

“Armando’s at his QTH,” Dorn confirms, letting everyone know that he’s in position. You swallow the lump in your throat.

Lockwood steps out of the helicopter and walks on the dock, waiting for them to bring out the hostages. You hold your breath and watch closely.

“Hostages are coming out now,” Dorn says. Your eyes dart across the screen, looking for your daughter in particular before spotting her in the arms of a muscular man. They walked behind the other two that were kidnapped and you can barely contain yourself when you take in the terrified look on your four year olds’ face.

“Fuck…” You choke out under your breath. Kelly hears this and rubs circles into your back for comfort. You put your hands over your mouth in a prayer like position and keep watching through the drones.

“Everybody stay calm,” Rita says.

The plan was for Mike to take out their leader as soon as he had the chance to, which was why he was on the front lines, yet when you notice no movement from his end, you begin to become worried that something has gone wrong.

“Mike?” Rita blurts, “Mike do you have the shot?”

“Negative, I do not have a shot, I do not have a shot,” he says into the comms device. Your eyebrows furrow as you look from a perspective of a drone that flew near where the helicopter had landed, and you conclude that from where Mike was posted, he should’ve had a clear shot.

A moment goes by and the kidnappers walk with the hostages, but just a little ways before they reach Lockwood, they stop on the bridge.

“They stopped, why’d they stop?” Dorn hurridly says. The drone is able to catch the sight of something slowly moving through the water and you conclude that it’s what they are looking at as well, you watch as their leader follows whatever is moving and your heart sinks when you realize what the thing in the water is moving towards.

“Armando–” You start, but he seems to have noticed it as well.

“Shit.” He says.

One man signals for the soldiers around him to start a search, suddenly becoming suspicious of where the thing in the water was going, and who it may be targeting. “Armando they’re closing in on you.” Dorn states.

“Do they see him?” Rita asks.

“I don’t know.”

Rita takes the time that they are distracted to pressure Mike, surely he has a shot now, right? “Mike, now! Your chance is now, they can see him, they know we’re here!”

“I don’t have it, negative, negative.”

“You’ve got to take the fucking shot,” Armando mumbles out, keeping his eye on the thing slowly advancing toward him in the water, and the person that was getting dangerously close to his hiding spot above.

You watch as all hell breaks loose when Armando shoots the man who semed to have spotted him, and he falls into the water only to be finished off by the thing in the water, now identified to be the ledgendary sixteen foot long gator. You don’t think you’ve ever been as scared as you had been the moment you realize they know they’ve been set up, and they start taking the hostages back into the building. Your daughter begins to cry and it breaks your heart.

“Engage!” Rita shouts through the comms, “Kelly, get us there.”

You leave your chair and move to the front of the van along with Kelly as she steps on the gas. You take the time to reload your own gun, and slip a knife in your boot for emergencies.

By the time the four of you have arrived, the fight has moved inside. Rita orders you three to go inside and she states that she’ll go after Lockwood and you don’t have to be told twice before you’re rushing in there. You hear Kelly shouting your name behind you, trying to get you to slow down as you leave them in the dust, but all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, desperate to find your daughter. You arrive just in time to see the man who was holding onto your daughter walk up a flight of stairs and you waste no time following after, shooting whoever was in your way.

The path splits into three once you reach the top and you pick a random path, slowly walking into the room.

You make sure the room is clear, making sure there is no one in it before you turn around, only to be smacked in the face with the butt of a gun. You stumble and fall, and make eye contact with the man who took you by surprise. You see him aiming at you, but with no intention to die before you find your daughter, you regain your balance and sweep his leg and quickly make your way on top of him. You snatch the knife out of your boot and put it to his neck, “Where is the child?” You hiss out, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you, where is she?” You barked when he took too long to answer for your liking.

“I don’t know what your talking about–” You decide you don’t have time for this bullshit, and jab him in the stomach with the knife. He lets out a cry of pain and he finds the cool metal of the knife back on the skin of his neck with a noticable change of pressure this time around. He was sure it would cut into the skin at any moment, “Okay, okay! Last I heard she was on the top floor.”

“Fuck,” You say, realizing that there were more floors than you realized. You don’t say another word before puncturing the side of his neck, quickly ending him. You get up, ready to leave the room but you’re grabbed from behind and choked. You grip the arm that wraps around your neck and stab your already bloodied knife into it, releasing yourself from the headlock. Even though the man who’d attacked you had been stabbed he was relentless. He ran at you again, landing a punch into your stomach and you got a few hits in yourself. You smash his head against a wall which either kills or knocks him out, and you can’t bring yourself to care as you see more men rush into the room.

You dance around them, getting in hits and taking some as well and you whip out your gun. You wanted to preserve bullets but you were getting overwhelemed by the amount of people that were flowing into the room. You shoot a few with amazing accuracy.

You hear a grunt behind you and before you can turn around, you are hit in the head with the butt of another gun again. You groan, the pain of your injuries starting to show through the adrenaline and the man behind you grabs you by your hair and pulls you up before wraping his own arm around your neck. You close one eye in pain and watch as one man walks to you, aiming his gun.

Before he can shoot, there is another shot that interrupts their plan and it ends up hitting the man behind you. Now free from his hold, you make use of the distraction and kick the man in front of you in the gut, causing him to double over. You knee him in the face and snatch his gun, shooting him in the face.

You look at your savior, and your eyes widen as you realize who it was. Armando…

“You good?” He asks. You nod, and he joins you at your side to finish off the remaining of the enemy, but before any of you can make a move, a helicopter comes smashing through the window, instantly killing two of the guys. You’re right in the path of the helicopter, and you see out of the corner of your eye Armando running towards you. He grabs onto you and you both fly out of the way. He manuvers both of your bodies until he’s the one to take most of the impact once you land.

Once all the chaos settles, you both stand up. You look at him, his hands still embracing you protectively, “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and continue to stare into his eyes. Those eyes you’ve known for so long. You don’t know what could’ve possessed you to do this, but you feel as if it’s the only thing you could do in the moment. With haste, you push your lips against his.

You can feel his surprise in your sudden action. You bring your hands up and grip his vest for stability and you feel the moment where he begins to reciprocate. Your mouths move together in a practiced motion and you wonder how he’s still such a good kisser after all these years.

The kiss quickly becomes heated, hurried. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you let him, moving the muscles together, competing for dominance. You groan into his mouth.

He then begins to walk forward, and you walk backwards slowly until your back makes contact with the wall behind you and he cages you in, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue never unlocking with your own. One hand is connected to the wall and the other to your hip as he brings you impossibly closer. You bask in the moment.

You break the kiss first, needing air, and his lips search for yours again instantly when you do. Your mind begins to cloud, but you remember why you’re here in the first place. You need to find your daughter. Even knowing this, you find it hard to pull away from the sensation that is his lips against your own, but somehow you find it in you to put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. He looks down at you in question.

“Can…can we continue… after I find my daughter?” You breathe heavily, still breathless from the passionate moment you shared.

“Yeah… okay. I’m coming with you.” Your eyes shot up at him at the statement. You nod at him and he hesitantly releases you from his hold. Desperate to rid yourself of the tension left in your lower area due to the kiss, you walk away, recalling what the man said about another floor.

Armando follows closely behind you.

You eventually find the staircase that would lead you to the top floor, and of course, awaiting you were more of the enemy. With Armando by your side, you make quick work of them and once all that were left were bodies, you begin to search the room. It was the only room on the top floor, so unless that guy was lying to you, Demi must be here.

So where the hell is she?

There is no sign of her being here. You check behind boxes, inside cabinets, everywhere. Your breathing quickly grows rapid as you realize that your daughter is nowhere in sight. If she’s not here, then where the hell could she be? The rest of your team was in the lower areas on the building, and if one of them found her, surely they would’ve announced it over the comms, right? So where the hell is your daughter?

You feel a hand on your back, “Hey, hey, you’re fine. We’ll find her, okay?” Armando says.

You realize you can’t waste time, so you nod and recollect yourself. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no clue where she could be if not here.

“Look,” Armando states once your breathing had slowed, he points to the left where there seemed to be a door to a balcony of sorts.

You take a deep breath and follow him, as he already started making his way toward it.

He kicks open the door, gun aimed at the figure that stood at the edge of the balcony and your heart dropped. In front of you stood your little girl, and a man that took his place on the ledge of what had to be a long ass drop. You feared the worst and your gun shoot in your hands.

“Put the guns down!” The man demanded, “Right now or I promise you I’ll jump, and take her ass with me!” He says. He emphasizes his words by gripping your daughter tighter and holding his gun to her head, then back at the two of you.

Your daughter is bawling her eyes out. You aren’t even sure if he noticed that you were there for her. She was scared out of your mind. “Demi–”

“Shut up, and put your fucking guns down!” The man demanded. You listen this time, which prompted Armando to do the same. You cursed to yourself, realizing what little power you have in this situation. “I want you two to slowly walk back out that door.”

“We can’t do that,” Armando states, his hands rising in the air after he dropped his gun to show he’s not a threat.

“Fucking do it!” The man boasted. You aren’t sure what your options are, if there were any. You look to Armando, and he seems to sense your eyes on the back of his head.

He then looks at you a certain way, and mouths to you, “Trust me.”

Your eyes widen and you let out a yelp in surprise when Armando takes off running toward the man and your daughter. This takes the man by surprise too, before he makes no effort to pull the trigger and only seems to panick at the incoming threat. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Armando uses his shoulder and back to swiftly steal your daughter from the mans grip, all the while using force to push him off of the balcony.

You watch as Armando sinks to his knees with your daughter, gently combing her hair with his fingers and whispering in her ear words of comfort. She grips onto him tightly and cries into his police vest. It takes you a moment to realize that she is safe. Something about Armando holding your daughter in his arms and caring for her makes you realize and think about some things that you haven’t thought to think about before, but you put that all of the back burner in favor of finally holding Demi in your arms again.

“Baby…” You whisper, almost in disbelief that she really is safe and sound. Demi registers your voice in her little head and whips it around to face you.

“Mama!!” She cries, she leaves Armando’s hold and you drop to your knees to give her the biggest, tightest hug you can. You sniffle and pull her head into your neck.

“Are you okay Mimi? Let me look at you…” You say, pulling away from her to check her from any kind of injury. She shakes her head, you take in the sight of her red eyes from all the crying she’s been doing.

“Mama is hurt…” She mumbles. You move your hand to the various areas that Demi points at and notice that you are indeed hurt in many areas, but you don’t care. Not right now.

“I am… But it’s okay, mama’s strong, just like you baby. God, I love you so much,” You say, planting a long, wet kiss on her forehead and hug her again tightly.

“I love you too, mama,” Demi says into your neck. You look at Armando as you hug Demi, and you mouth a quick “Thank you.” He nods to you, watching the interaction.

The moment is interrupted by Mike on the comms, “Armando, come in Armando.”

“What’s up?” Armando replies.

“You need to get out of here, Judy’s here and is looking for you. Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”

Armando hesitates, looking at you and your daughter… his daughter. Whatever he’s contemplating seems like he’s making a hard decision in his mind, but luckily for him, you’ve already made up yours.

“We’ll come with you.” You state.

“What? No–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Silence overtakes you, but you don’t let it linger for too long, “Don’t push us away again.”

This looks to have convinced him, as he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You don’t know how the future will go for you three. You dread the predestined talk with your daughter that you’re going to have to have with her to tell her that this man is really her father, but all you know is that as your walking through that building, your daughter being carried by him and her hooked onto her neck for safety and comfort, you feel as if you have good things coming.

And so you let yourself crack a genuine smile, one that you felt hasn’t shown itself since the night that he left you.

And he reciprocates the same one. One you haven’t seen in years, and one you’re sure to see in many more to come.

TAGLIST: (if you didn’t get tagged, it’s probably due to settings!)

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15

[inaconstantstateofchange]

okay so when reading the final chapter of svsss volume three, the interactions between yue qingyuan and tianlang-jun are so—

Shen Qingqiu wanted to say something when Tianlang-Jun raised his chin, squinting at Yue Qingyuan. “I remember you.” After thinking for a bit, he said with conviction, “Back then, the Huan Hua Palace’s old geezer wanted you to help him with the ambush, but you ignored him. So you’re the current sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain? Not bad.” “Your distinguished self’s memory is also quite good.” Tianlang-Jun smiled and smiled, then gave a sigh. “If you were also trapped in a pitch-back darkness for over ten years, unable to glimpse the sky or sun, with nothing to pass the days but for reminiscing over past affairs, your memory would be quite good as well.”

tianlang-jun remembered him, and while yes, it's clear he has a pretty good memory and might also be using it as a way to throw his potential enemy off-balance, it is still a very interesting way to go about it. and the rejoinder yue qingyuan sends back at him, perfectly polite - even respectful! - totally unflappable—tell me you do not see the potential there!!

but never fear, if you are not yet convinced, i have more:

Tianlang-Jun continued to sit upon his stone, completely at ease. “I remember that you also waited until the last moment to draw your sword that day,” he said to Yue Qingyuan. “Doing the same now?” Yue Qingyuan didn’t answer.

tianlang-jun remembered a lot about yue qingyuan, even small details like his sword, and the actions he took (or didn't) upon the day of tianlang-jun's betrayal. to me, this reads as though, even then, he took note of yue qingyuan's power as something to look out for. he is also, despite all of the other people around, primarily engaging in conversation with yue qingyuan.

Tianlang-Jun pulled his hand back and smiled. “Honestly, in the beginning I had no malice, nor did I find fun in the idea of the world burning. I only occasionally crossed the border, coming here to sing songs or read books—it was quite nice. However, since I’ve already been in residence beneath Bai Lu Mountain for so many years, if I don’t follow through on something along the lines of your thoughts, I’d truly find my circumstances a bit too unjustified.” Yue Qingyuan flicked his finger. Xuan Su sprang three inches from its sheath, its spiritual energy seething. The bones of Tianlang-Jun’s body cracked and popped, almost like his joints had been dislocated. He made a sound of surprise. “As expected of a sect leader. Not bad. Your master was quite mediocre but had quite the eye for disciples and successors.”

okay first of all, the tension here is remarkable, and second of all, the compliment at the end—tianlang-jun, for the power level we know he possesses, is being practically effusive with his praise of yue qingyuan's strength something we know to be greatly prized by demons.

this segment follows the previous directly, but i had to give it it's own spotlight, for reasons that i hope will be readily apparent:

Then Tianlang-Jun reached out and grabbed Xuan Su’s blade directly, as if he couldn’t feel a thing. “But why not draw it all the way?” he said with a smile. “You can’t do anything to me with only this much.” Yue Qingyuan’s gaze hardened, and Xuan Su jumped another half-inch from its sheath.

tianlang-jun: oho, you'll need more than that much to handle me, big guy

(jokes aside, considering the rampant spiritual energy of xuan su, described as so powerful as to be oppressive in volume 2, and the susceptibility of demons to spiritual energy, tianlang-jun is truly doing the absolute Most™ right now.)

... moving decidedly away from jokes now, this is one of the most pivotal lines for them, in my opinion. it comes at the conclusion of wu chen's reveal of the betrayal-that-wasn't, and how su xiyan chose death over bringing harm to tianlang-jun, only for it to find him regardless:

“It wasn’t that she didn’t care about you, but that she was without alternative. Yet the world is pitiless, and so you passed each other by…” Tianlang-Jun’s lips seemed to tremble slightly. A long moment passed. Then he said, “Is that so?” Right after those three words, he asked again, “Truly?” “This one swears upon his life that his words contain not a single falsehood,” said Master Wu Chen. Tianlang-Jun turned his head to look at Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “Truly?” He didn’t even care whether someone was in the know; he was just asking anyone he could. Unable to say anything, Yue Qingyuan silently lowered his head. It was unclear what he thought.

it is clear that the tragedy of su xiyan and tianlang-jun was one that yue qingyuan felt keenly, not only for his response here, clearly processing some significant emotion, but also for the way that he used the same words to describe his relationship with shen jiu just a short time later:

“I really…didn’t mean to not return,” said Yue Qingyuan. “Only, it really is true that the world is pitiless, and so the two of us passed each other by…”

pardon me while a cry a new freshwater body into existence.

there is truly so much more that can be said about what makes these two a great fit for each other, especially in a canon-adjacent/post-canon scenario, but i'll save that for another day. for now, i will let these excerpts speak for themselves.

[silverwhittlingknife]

can we have a hint about what the spring break tim patrol chapter of red letter day contains? (you kept having dick say "if the joker shows up" and tim's "he won't." for me to be convinced that goes off without any trouble)

i'm sure it'll be fine. :D

i am delighted you're enjoying the story <333 i haven't updated it in soooo long but i got some very sweet comments lately so i have been looking at my scribbles again <3

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 8

I have finished the story (at long last! sheesh I can't believe how long this took me to get it done) and it has 10 chapters. And it has the happiest of endings. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time I was writing it.

Things appear hopeless, but Eddie and Chrissy start to find allies in their plight.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

****

Eddie woke up the next morning to a pounding head, an aching heart and signed divorce papers.

Of the three things the divorce papers were the worst.

So he did the only thing he could do in that moment, call Chrissy.

“Eddie!” she greeted. “I kinda expected a call before today. You know, being your fianceé and all.”

“Shit, Chris!” he murmured. “Is there someone there?”

She hummed her response.

“It been so hectic around here,” Eddie admitted. “And there was the fact that Steve wouldn’t give me a divorce.”

She sighed and he suddenly realized who was with her. “Come out here, tell them that we decided to have the wedding out here in Hawkins because that’s where all my family is. See if you can’t get an extension to plan the wedding.”

“Hold on, cher,” she murmured and put her hand over the speaker. He could hear her clearly but anything he said would be muffled.

Eddie stared down at the papers in his hand with a shattered heart. He could grieve once Chrissy’s dragon was slain.

A minute or so later she came back on.

“Okay, they’ve given me to the end of the month,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Just say the word and I’ll be down there in a flash.”

Eddie waited another moment or two before he said, “Are you alone now?”

Chrissy muttered, “One moment.” He heard the ding of the elevator door open and the sounds of a busy reception hall, then the sounds of a busy street.

She called for a taxi and once the door was closed behind her, she said, “All right, babe, what’s the problem.”

He opened his mouth to tell her but he just broke down.

“I–I thought I was happy in Seattle, but I’ve never felt more alive since coming back here. Seeing old friends, cruising familiar streets. It feels like home. When I first left I didn’t think there was anything in that town that would make me happy.” He let out a shuddering breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I–I knew that the kids would all leave and they have. But Wayne is still here. Steve and Robin, too. The town has gotten softer. Something I never thought possible. I saw three same sex couples just vibing.”

He choked back a sob. “I thought everything I ever wanted was in Seattle and this trip was just about closing the doors that I left hanging open. Bu–but, oh god!” He threw his head back and covered his eyes. His lips quivered as the pain in his heart spread out through his chest. “Steve is still the one. I know, I know. I talk a lot of shit about love and there not being one person out there who’s your soulmate. but God, Chrissy. He’s it. I felt more myself the last three days then have the last five years.”

He let out another choking sob. “I don’t know what to do. He is like that first ray of sunlight after weeks of storms.”

“Oh, Eddie...” she cried.

“He signed the papers,” Eddie murmured. “And now I wish he hadn’t. I want to just tear up the papers and set fire to them. But I can’t do that to you. I won’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”

He just sobbed and sobbed, forcing through the words that would tell her what he needed.

“Let me make a couple of phone calls, okay?” Chrissy said before hanging up.

Eddie murmured his thanks and then let her go. His brain went on autopilot and found himself on the pavement in front of the post office.

He stared at the mailbox in front of him in abject horror.

He had put the divorce papers in the mail and didn’t sign them himself.

****

Chrissy sighed. It was hard on Eddie she knew. He had spent the last decade running from himself and now he was face to face with the best parts of his past, not understanding why it felt so good.

She opened the file on Eddie’s divorce, the annulments had gone through just fine. It was just that one marriage.

She found what she was looking for and dialed the number.

“Sweetie’s Treats,” the female voice said in a faux cheerful customer service voice. “This is Robin what I can I get for you today?”

Chrissy took a deep breath and let out slow. “Hey, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie’s fianceé. I sorry, but I really need to talk to Steve.”

“Yeah...” Robin said. “No can do.”

Chrissy rubbed her her temple in frustration. “Eddie called me this morning in a hell of state and I just want to talk to Steve. It’s not anything bad, I guess I want to meet the person who has Eddie’s heart.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Robin said, “you can’t talk to him right now because he is working with the large stand mixer.”

Chrissy immediately pictured a KitchenAid mixer and huffed out her frustration. “Can’t he step away from it for a moment?”

“Sorry, no can do,” Robin said tersely. “He’s pouring in the sugar and has to put it in at specific intervals.”

Her temper was fraying with every passing moment with this woman. “Can I call his cellphone and you can hold it up to his ear?”

There was a bark of laughter. “That would also be a no. That thing has eaten three cellphones already and I’m not about to feed the beast another thanks.”

Chrissy blinked for a moment. “Just how big is this mixer anyway?”

This time the laughter was less bitter and more genuine.

“The size of a fifty gallon drum.”

“Oh!”

Robin cackled. “Yeah, when you have to make two hundred cookies, you aren’t going to be using a little electric hand mixer.”

“What kind of cookies?” she asked before she realized what was coming out of her mouth.

“Snickerdoodles,” she said, her grin evident even through the phone.

Chrissy shook her head. She was on a mission, damn it. She wouldn’t let let herself be distracted by baked goods!

“Okay,” she said, shoring herself up for a battle. “How about I talk to you and tell him what I said?”

“Sure,” Robin said. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know the girl who was the cause of Eddie’s bi awakening.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “So about that...”

There was silence on the line long enough that she pulled the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.

“Are you his beard?” came the quiet reply. “Is this a lavender wedding?”

A little bell went off above Chrissy head. Oh. Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as she thought.

“Yes,” she said, biting the bullet. “But not in the way you think.”

She could almost picture the head tilt of the bird on the other end of the line when Robin said, “Oh? Do tell.”

“Give me a second,” Chrissy said. “My taxi just pulled up to my apartment and I need to pay the driver.”

“Sure.”

Chrissy paid the man and hurried up to the stairs to her apartment, she fitted her keys into the lock and tossed her purse and keys on the table next to the door.

“So here’s the sitch,” she said flopping on her sofa with a heavy sigh.

****

Eddie opened the little door on the front with wide eyes. The door prevented people from sticking his hand in and grabbing it. He grabbed his hair.

“Fuck, fuck!” he cried. This day kept getting worse and worse. He opened the door again, hoping he could see a way to disable it.

He probably could, given the right tool. But as he was looking a little too closely another person walked by and eyed him suspiciously.

“Shit!” He looked down at himself and let loose a string of more colorful curse words.

Eddie looked like he was about to knock off the mailbox and make off with several felonies worth of someone else’s mail.

He was going to start crying again. He gripped his hair tightly as he paced back and forth.

He felt a hand on his elbow and he wasn’t be ashamed to say that the shriek that came out of him was the most emasculating sound in existence.

“Eddie,” Jonathan said. “Shit! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Once Eddie had landed back on his feet like the scaredy-cat he was, he whirled around to see the oldest Byers boy looking at him with such concern.

“Hey, Johnny,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. God, today is the worst.”

Jonathan huffed a laugh. “You know, you are the only one I’ve ever met who doesn’t call me Jonathan.”

Eddie blushed. “I call everyone nicknames. I can stop if you want.”

Jonathan shook his head. “It was an observation, not a criticism.”

“Someone’s been hanging out with Nancy Wheeler a little too much,” Eddie huffed, already feeling better in the quiet presence of this man.

Jonathan threw his head back and laughed. “I hope so, we’re getting married next year.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You did tell me that. Shit, man it feels like a life time ago.”

“You still love Steve, don’t you?” he said gently.

Eddie opened his mouth to deny it, but snapped it shut. He waved his hand at the mailbox. “It doesn’t matter. He signed the divorce papers, but my dumbass forgot to sign them too. So I need to get them back, but I don’t how.”

Jonathan smiled and then held up one finger. He went into the post office and five minutes later came out with his mom who carried the biggest key chain he’d ever seen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joyce greeted softly. “Let’s get this back for you.”

Eddie told her what it looked like and who it was addressed to.

After a little bit of searching, she turned around with the manilla envelope and handed it back to him.

“Next time,” she said with a smile. “Just come in and ask and we’ll be happy to grab it for you.”

Eddie nodded, clutching it to his chest and thanking her profusely. He took Jonathan out to lunch for the rescue.

They took it and sat on a park bench away from everyone else.

“Thanks for the gallant rescue, man,” Eddie said around his bite of his sandwich. “I was going to have a full blown breakdown right there on Hawkins Main and it wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“It’s no problem,” Jonathan said. “I’m glad it worked out.” He nodded to the papers on the table between them. “You going to sign them?”

Eddie let out a long sigh. “I have to.”

“You keep saying that,” he huffed. “But I don’t think you do. Shit, Eddie. I saw you and him at the carnival and it was like time travel. Like I was transported back a decade when you were both happy and free. He had his face buried in those stuff animals you’d won for him and you looked at him like he’d hung the moon.”

Eddie shook his head. “Look, you can’t tell anyone about this. It’s technically a crime. But it’s the only choice we have. Chrissy was here on a school visa from Barbados and she usually gets a work visa for the summer. Only there was a mix up and she didn’t get her work visa and her school visa is for while she’s at school. Which considering it was only for three months, I figured as long as she didn’t say anything to anyone, she could skate on through.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” Jonathan pressed. He took a bite of sandwich and nudged Eddie to eat.

Eddie took another bite, but really didn’t taste it. He choked it down around the bile in his throat. He shook his head.

“She works at a law firm,” he said mournfully. “Their HR department found out pretty much immediately. They, of course, alerted Immigration and was told to find another way to get a visa or be sent back to Barbados.”

“Hence getting the married?” Jonathan suggested.

He nodded. “We can’t let anyone know, because then we could get into trouble for fraud or whatever. I do love her, but not like that. Not like Steve.”

Jonathan huffed a laugh. He was silent for a moment and then shook his head sadly. “He went up to Seattle, you know.”

Eddie’s head snapped up. “What? When?”

“Right after you settled up there and started tattooing,” Jonathan said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “He was there for a week. I think he went up there to ask you to come home. But when he found you, he also found a large city and a friendly LGBTQ community and he just couldn’t bare to ask you to return to homophobic Hawkins.”

Eddie’s lip quivered. He hadn’t known. His head spun as his world tilted off its axis.

“When he came back, he couldn’t really tell Robin the truth,” Jonathan continued. “That he couldn’t get up the courage to even see you closer than through the windows of the shop. So he told her he couldn’t find you and then vowed to make something of himself. Something you could be proud of.”

Tears slipped down Eddie’s cheeks and he pressed his hand to his mouth to keep the whimper that tried to escape between his teeth.

“The bakery...” he murmured.

Jonathan nodded. “Him and Robin starting working there together like they always do, to help save up for her to go to college.”

Eddie smiled, a weak, wet, little thing, but it was there. Steve and Robin, two peas in a pod. They always worked together since the summer after Steve graduated and Robin was about to start her senior year. They had worked at an ice cream parlor in the mall. When it burned down just a couple of months later due to shoddy workmanship, they had forged a friendship in literal fire.

“They weren’t intending to make it a permanent thing,” Jonathan continued, breaking into his thoughts. “But Steve’s good. He took a shop that only barely keeping itself in the black and made it into the thriving thing you see today.”

Eddie nodded. He was proud of Steve. And Robin. And all the things they managed to succeed in doing.

Jonathan hugged him tightly. “I won’t say to stay here with Steve and leave your financée to her fate, because that would be cruel and for all your faults, man, you aren’t cruel. And neither am I.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. And then another.

“You’ll do the right thing,” Jonathan said. “You might not figure it out right away, but somehow you always manage to get to the right thing in the end.”

Eddie finished his sandwich and thanked him for everything. Just being there when he needed someone.

And as he drove away from the park he felt lighter than he had in years.

****

I realize that that's probably not how visas work, but I'm just gonna hand wave that away for the drama.

Tag List: SIX SLOTS OPEN

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @mac-attack19

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @blondie1006 @stripey82 @w1ll0wtr33 @mcenziehughes

[gojowhorre]

one last touch | simon “ghost” riley x f!reader

i saw a post on tiktok and made me think about this <3

soft rays of sun peeked through the thin curtains as light wind went inside the room. gentle hands smoothed out the rough edges on the slightly damp clay, he lets out a grunt when the door opens.

visitors were coming in whether to do their own art or to view the regulars like him do art. he didn’t necessarily like or hated them, he didn’t really like the kids that come and go, they were rowdy. almost ruined his sculpture that was in the middle of the making.

as he was finishing up smoothing the rest of the lines the been carved into the clay, a child not more than ten years old came to his side and watched him work with stars in his eyes. it was cute, it reminded him of you.

he never did art. you did though. you invited him there at the same studio he was in now on your third date. you were making something, he only watched in awe. his hands were never gentle, steady yes, but never gentle. his hands tortured people, killed them. but you, you made things beautiful, created life with your art. he was the opposite.

so when you laced your hand with his, leading him to your seat, he was confused. you stood behind him, reaching for both of his hands that laid on his thighs, and placing them on your unfinished clay piece. he followed your lead silently. it was nice, the feeling of the clay, but the feeling of your hands on his was better.

he was a fool. that’s what he was. a stupid argument caused you to walk out of your shared apartment. it was for the best, you needed to get some fresh air, or else you two would’ve said something worse to each other. and when he didn’t hear from you for an hour he gotten worry sick.

if he went out to find you earlier. if he went to call you earlier. no, if he only had apologized after the argument, he wouldn’t be seeing you on the road with a crowd surrounding you with flashing lights.he wouldn’t be pushing people out of his way to hold you, your head leaning on his hand, your eyes glossy and unfocused.

it hurt didn’t it? and he wasn’t there to comfort you when you needed him the most. the thought of that felt like a knife was being twisted into his stomach.

he was lost. you were the one who found him every time. he felt anew when your eyes brightened when you found his. but he can’t find that light anymore. he can’t breathe. you always took his breath away, but not like that. you couldn’t leave him like that, not after an argument just before your death.

it took him almost two years, to get the courage to step into this art studio. he took lessons wherever he wasn’t busy, it took a while to get a grip on what to do and what not to do, but he made it.

it has been a while since he got to hold your face as you smile at him.

so, he made sure to do his first and final piece to be a sculpture of you.

he glances down at the boy who took a small section of his shirt and tugged at it, looking at the sculpture of you.

“she’s pretty.”

“she is, isn’t she?”

meow :3

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XXI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself, but... as for this part in particular, this is mostly half-ish fluff.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX

----------------------

“I know what you’re thinking,” Suguru said not even glancing at the white-haired boy who was keeping a steady but disturbing look on him since earlier that afternoon. “And to be clear now, it’s not like that,” he reiterated, brown eyes finally meeting the accusing blue ones.

“I know, I know...” he heard Satoru replied in a not so convinced tone, but the scrutinizing look remained.

“I thought we were past this,” Suguru muttered as he laid on his bed and busied himself with a new book he had gotten that week.

Suguru could swear on whatever Gojo asked him to, that he was just trying to comfort you. He had seen you bit down since Ikeda had left for who knows where, but training sessions always seemed to lighten your mood, so Suguru had kept on training with you.

Once in a while, Gojo would join or just sit and watch, no issues there. But that afternoon, it had been just Suguru and you, and while you were taking a break after a sparring session, he had brought up the idea of going to the spring festival that was being held in the city that weekend. Alas, your reaction had not been what he expected.

“It’s been a while since all of us went out, right? It’ll be fun,” Geto said with his ever-light smile.

“That festival?” Geto saw your eyes started losing some of the spark they always had after a good fight, “I think I’ll pass…” What he saw then was a sad smile on your face, “It’s just… “

You explained to him that Haruki had promised to take you to that festival too, saying every year it was livelier and more beautiful than the last; the decorations, the food, the fireworks at night… Of course he would not fulfill that promise now, not that one, not any other.

“I know it’s lame… I really don’t want to miss him, but I do,” you admitted. “You guys should still go. I heard this year they are really going all out…”

You did not notice how your voice had lowered, but Suguru did. “There is nothing wrong with missing someone.”

He could not help but to compare your current mood to how you used to brim with excitement about your friend. Unfortunately, Suguru was not like Shoko, and he was not sure of what you needed to hear in this situation, nor was he like Satoru, who seemed to know what you needed even when you did not want to see anyone. So, he did the only thing that he could think of: he hugged you.

To say it surprised you to have Suguru’s arms around you would have been an understatement; he was not the type to initiate that sort of contact with you, but it still conveyed his message: you are not alone.

And after a moment, you and he noticed, you were in fact, not alone.

“Is this what they call training now?” Satoru appeared behind of you with a mocking smile on his semblance.

Instinctively, you and Suguru separated. Gojo would definitely tease you both for looking so vulnerable when you were supposed to be training to become stronger, but if you were waiting for another quip, it never came. Satoru was too busy directing a questioning look to his other friend.

When they were alone, Suguru tried to make it clear to Satoru that you were fine; what he had seen in the training grounds was just a nice gesture between friends, and that the look he had given him was not necessary, but he was not having much success in putting the matter to rest.

After all, even if Satoru was okay with him and Shoko being your friends, he still was a little too protective of you sometimes, and after seeing what had happened with the last person you had become too fond of, Suguru could not blame him for worrying a little.

“Satoru, you know Ieiri and I just want to be there for them, right?” Suguru finally said to him. “That’s what friends are supposed to do, so let us help, okay? We won’t take them from you.”

***

When Satoru opened his eyes, it was still dark outside.

It was odd for him to have dreams like those. He was used to little sleep and unpleasant dreams he would force himself to forget after waking up, but dreaming about his old best friend the way he had been in high school was... bittersweet. That was the Suguru that had been your friend and his, but also the one that had left.

What would he say if he could see him like this, dinning at your place, sleeping in your bed, accommodating himself in your life, now looking so comfortable with the feelings he had always denied?

Satoru smiled at the thought and turned to look at your sleeping form. He should have seen it coming.

While he was confident in his feelings now, for some reason, the words he had read earlier still bothered him.

“My affections and wishes are unchanged.” -I.H.

Satoru had never seen that book in your apartment before, and he knew you and Haruki had somewhat resumed your friendship now that he was back, but had he really written that for you recently?

He knew better than to jump to conclusions based on a badly written line on the inside of a random book. Maybe Ikeda had not written it for you at all; and even if he had, he may not have meant anything by it. He had been gone for years, right? He would not hold onto a high school crush after all this time, would he?

Satoru suddenly remembered the Ikeda that he had seen that night in front of your building, you and him smiling to each other, how he had leaned down…

He shook his head, wanting to forget it.

He would, of course he would.

He turned again. If he kept thinking about that, he would not sleep.

Did he have any right to ask you to explain what your relationship with that man was now? Was he just a friend who wanted to be there for you, a friend of yours Satoru was supposed to trust? Because he was not sure he could do it if Ikeda himself did not want to remain as just a friend as he had oh-so-kindly clarified in the past.

“Why should it bother me?”

“I like them.”

To think he would still remember that guy’s voice after so long….

Satoru closed his eyes and tried to ignore the memory of that evening, the certainty in the boy’s words, his own inability to say anything back, and the echo of an approaching train.

***

You watched Satoru generously poured some more syrup over his pancakes while he told you he had cancelled his plans for earlier so he was able to have breakfast with you.

“Well, ‘cancelled’ is probably not the right way to put it. I just had Ijichi take care of it.”

Isn’t that too much syrup?

“He complained a bit, but this is nice,” he gestured to the breakfast he had almost burned a few minutes ago, “don’t you think?”

You took the syrup from him.

“I think that’s enough,” you said looking at his plate. “And…” you sat down back on your seat in front of him, “I also think you should be nicer to Ijichi. You can't just boss him around like that all the time.”

“He owed me one,” Satoru gave you a sweet smile before digging in on his plate.

Since he was busy with his meal, you talked. “I will need to go out for a bit but will be back later. Do you want to have dinner at that place from last time?”

Satoru shook his head. “Let’s try something different this time.”

Him wanting to try different restaurants was not weird, but what he said next almost got you choking on your pancakes.

“Let’s go on a date.”

***

“We don’t need to do that, Satoru… I mean, aren’t dates just like going out for food or coffee? We do that all the time,” you tried to smile at him despite how odd you found his proposition.

“Maybe, but I think it should be fun, no?”

That was how you ended up walking next to Satoru in a museum among some of the most valuable works of the Edo period.

You had to give him some credit; it had been a while since you and him had gone to an exhibit, and he had actually dressed up for you.

Not that Satoru had ever been under-dressed for any occasion, and he certainly had the charm to make the most simple outfit look stylish, but this time he was purposely wearing the shirt you had given him for his last birthday because you had said it would look good on him even if it was not from a well-known designer, and the cologne he knew you liked because you always told him he smelled nice when he wore it.

“Many of these are not pretty, don’t you think?” Satoru had leaned down and whispered in your ear, giving a side eye to the piece you were admiring.

You smiled. “You know? The impression of the smart, cultured man you give really loses credibility when you say things like that.”

“You think I’m smart and cultured?” You could see the smirk growing on his face despite the lighting that was meant to focus all attention on the artwork, leaving the visitors poorly illuminated.

Satoru looked good with or without good lightning, and he knew it, so you would not add up to his ego.

“Of course not.” You took a few steps to the next piece.

Satoru smiled as he watched you move from one print to another. You were on a date with him, so even if you were teasing him, he did not care.

To his credit, he did like some kinds of art and was not such a bad critic of composition and relevance when he would actually pay attention to an art piece, but now, his main focus was on you.

***

“I didn’t know you could eat that much,” you grinned.

“There are many things you don’t know about me.” Satoru winked in your direction.

You laughed. “I know you since you were six. I'd dare say, there isn’t much I don’t know about you.”

“I can think of a few things.”

You and he were walking on your way back from the sushi restaurant where Satoru had invited you to dinner to finalize your date, and his statement made you stop and look at him to challenge him.

“Name one,” you said.

His smirk was that of a winner. “I don’t know how to tie a necktie.”

You rolled your eyes. “I knew that. It’s always been me or Shoko doing it for you, dummy.”

You also thought he knew how to do it but was just too lazy for it.

He took a step further, still smiling. “What about this? I still watch Digimon sometimes.”

“I’m not impressed… I saw your Digimon boxers.” You tried to suppress a laugh but failed when looking at his expression. “They were in your laundry room last time.”

He laughed, and the light flush on his cheeks made him look younger. “Why did you go through my laundry?”

“I didn’t! You had them hanging there for any unfortunate eyes to see.” You took another step back and he, another one closer. “Don’t tell me you are wearing them now.”

“Wouldn't you like to find out?” You were both chuckling. and as you took another step back, you realized Satoru was much closer than before.

He had taken off his sunglasses from earlier. He did that often around you, these days more than ever, as if he wanted to see you without obstruction, as if he wanted you to know he was looking at you.

“Not fair…” he was still smiling but his voice was lower, and your back finally made contact with the wall behind you. “You know this much, but I don’t know everything about you, do I?”

He was not just joking; you were not being fair. You did not tell him about the proposal from the Zenin clan; he did not know what the situation was with Ikeda, and more importantly, Satoru was not sure of where you wanted things to go now that he had confessed his feelings for you.

I said I did not need an answer now, but are you at least thinking about it, [name]?

Satoru knew there would be no turning back if you started something, if you told him that you loved him as he loved you.

“You don’t? I’m a bit offended.” You tentatively raised your hand to touch the collar of Satoru’s shirt. You had recognized it immediately when he had shown up that afternoon.

I was right, it looks good on him.

“I heard the most hilarious rumor recently.” Satoru wanted you to touch more than just his clothes, but he wanted answers too. “About you on the verge of making me attend your wedding with a Zenin.”

Your hand froze. The fabric of his shirt was extremely soft, contrary to the look in his eyes that seemed to want to read through you.

Who told you about that?

No. If Satoru had not told you from the start, he would probably not tell you now. In any case, he had you cornered, both figuratively and physically.

You averted your gaze and tried to keep the mood playful. “As if you would have attended.”

No, I wouldn’t have. Over my dead body you would marry into that hideous clan.

Seeing how he was not going to play along, you sighed. “It was nothing. They summoned me a couple months ago, and I told them I wouldn’t marry them, and that was the end of it.”

Was it? They had been insistent but eventually left you alone, or so you thought.

Satoru tried to find your gaze again. “Why didn’t you tell me? If they are still bothering you…”

“They asked me not to comment on it with anyone, since my response was… not what they expected.”

As if there was a reason why they should have expected you to accept, those fools.

“And they’ve let me alone, so it’s alright.” Satoru’s skin was warm when your hand touched his face.

He leaned into your touch. “Who was it?”

Now, that was something you were not supposed to disclose either, and you did not want Satoru to try to take the matter into his own hands.

“Don’t go looking for trouble. You have Megumi you care about.”

“I know... He’s not like them, you know? Won’t ever be.”

You mouthed ‘I know’.

And you did, you trusted him to protect that kid just as he always tried protecting his students.

There were other things Satoru wanted to ask, but your eyes staring into his and the proximity were making his mind deviate. He had felt that before with you, too warm, too at ease, so much that he could forget the world.

He brushed his nose against yours. “Did you know I really want to kiss you now?”

The street was deserted but for you too, but it still hit you that he was asking for a kiss in a place where any passerby or curious neighbor could see.

Still, you pulled him in because you wanted to kiss him too, and when your lips connected, albeit unsaid, the same thought flashed through your minds.

We cannot go back to how we were.

And if there had been such neighbor who wanted to open their curtains to glance into the peaceful darkness outside, or such passerby with business to attend in the middle of the night, when they noticed the couple on the street, they would most certainly think they were just another pair of lovers, because who would mistake them for friends?

----------------------

Note: I almost feel tempted to end everything here, even if that was not my original plan lol.

Thanks for reading!

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski @rosellerinfrost @catowru @bi-narystars @wondermilka

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 3}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: Before the ceremony, you unfortunately have to face your ex. Though with Felix there to back you up when Johnny starts being rude, there's a tension you haven't felt before. How will you survive watching your ex get married? // genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut // word count: 3.6k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes //a/n: if you're not on the taglist and would like to be, please reply to this post or send me an ask!🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Before doing anything else, you need to go take a very cold shower. For one, you need to scrub off all the plant matter currently staining your hands. Secondly, you need to douse this awful combination of anxiety and lust that’s been building up throughout the week. The idea of Johnny walking down the aisle has been simmering away in the back of your mind and the confusing fresh wave of desire for Felix has not been helping. When you try to untangle the thoughts from one another, it feels like trying to diffuse a bomb, not knowing which wire to cut. 

There’s a part of you that feels bitter about Johnny, you two were together for so long, and he’s climbing that ladder of life faster than you. All the bragging that he’s done has seeped into you. In your more insecure moments, you think yourself jealous of him. It drives you mad, knowing how dead your relationship was by the time you pruned it, but all that time and effort lost on some mediocre shithead from your college years makes you feel like you’ve wasted your prime years. Johnny has an uncanny ability to suss out the parts of yourself that you’re least confident about and boast about his success in those areas. 

When your floral business was just starting out, he made sure you knew how well he was doing with money. When he met Jenny, he paraded her around online and at social functions, telling anyone within earshot how he’s never loved anyone the way he loves her. He liked to go on and on about how he knew the very first time meeting her, he was going to marry her. They were just so compatible - mentally, emotionally, and physically. Every time you are hanging out at some brewery with your old friends and Johnny starts up, it takes all your effort not to scoff into your beer and roll your eyes. It’s not jealousy that you feel though, you just wish he would shut the fuck up about it sometimes. 

When he had approached you to do the flowers for the wedding, he seemed surprised when you accepted.

“I promise, I’d love to do the florals for you and Jenny,” you said.

“Are you sure?” Johnny said, eyes full of pity. “Is the business doing okay? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to take on a project this big.”

“Business is booming, Johnny,” you gritted out. “I’ll even give you a nice discount, since we’re friends and all.”

“Okay, great!” he said. “Be prepared for Jenny though. She’s terrible at making decisions without my help.”

“I’ve worked with a lot of brides before, I know I can handle any changes she needs to make,” you reply coolly.

“Good to know,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You remember this exchange like it was yesterday. The way you had little half moons embedded in your palms from clenching your fists so hard comes to the forefront of the memory. There was something about how Johnny knew exactly what to say to get under your skin still made you angry.

Thinking back about this exchange while you soap up your body under the cold water of the shower, a little seed of conspiracy plants itself in your mind. Did Johnny encourage the massive switch up of aesthetics at the last minute? Jenny seemed so eager about the previous plan of  classic, timeless flowers that the switch to bohemian felt really out of left field, especially so close to the wedding date. It was also a little rash and stupid of you to offer him such a huge discount. Minho and Chan were right, you had to make sure all your extra work was paid for properly. 

The Felix problem was an entirely different can of worms. This crush you’ve been nursing for years now had fuel added to the fire, all because of a silly dream you had. Granted, it was an incredibly hot dream, you feel goosebumps raise on your skin, and not just from the frigid temperature of your shower. If anything, the icy water was keeping you grounded, not getting swept away by your desire again. 

Were you ovulating or something? Why was this hitting you so hard, especially now? Nothing had changed between you and Felix, you just seemed to notice more. He’s been extraordinarily kind, really going out of his way to take care of you. It helps, since both of you work within the wedding industry, to have someone to confide in so closely. The last few months, you’ve seen him more often than not, like an extremely reliable dinner buddy. You realize Felix is a huge reason you haven’t felt as lonely in the past year. 

His offer to be your plus one had you reeling. As you step out of the shower, you remember how he urged you to call him your boyfriend while you were here. 

“It feels real when you can attach a label to it like that,” he had said. He was right. You knew, beyond a doubt, that your ex would take what you said more seriously if you had “evidence” that you were doing well. It was petty, immature, and not something you should entertain. . .  but you wanted to feel an ounce of victory against your ex. You were going to that wedding to show up and show off. It didn’t hurt that you also secretly craved to indulge the fantasy of being with Felix like that, even if just for a night.

Toweling off your body, the dream-hazed feeling of his hands on your hips rocket through you again. It’s not that Felix wasn’t touchy, he was one of your more physically affectionate friends. But that was just the way he acted with everyone, always hugging, touching, soothing, you internally scolded yourself for getting swept away by his antics. There was something about Dream Felix’s hands that felt burned into your skin. Rubbing your face, you try and shake the image - you have shit to do, there’s a wedding you need to get ready for.

You pull your dress out of the garment bag, a pastel pink, slinky number, ruched in just the right way to accentuate the curve of your hips. The length is just modest enough to pass for a wedding, but stops right above your knee. You have your favorite pair of strappy, white fuck-me heels to go along with it. You make sure your lips look plumped, your eyes look sharp and bedroom-y, and your hair looks fashionably mussed and loosely pinned back. The goal is to look like you didn’t put in too much effort while still standing out from the crowd. 

You’re futzing with an earring clasp when you hear a knock at the door. Felix stands in the doorway when you answer, whatever greeting he was about to say dying on his lips when he sees you. His jaw slackens as he stares, drinking you in. You’re in a similar position, enthralled by his appearance. His hair is half swept back, tendrils of his cool toned blonde trailing resting against his shoulders. His suit jacket is a pale blue offset by his light beige dress pants. His attention to detail is insane with his white shirt with small detailed flowers embroidered into it and a silver blue embroidered tie to match. The undertones of the suit complement his honey tanned skin so well. His freckles nearly glitter on his face. He looks good, as if he just walked off the runway. You’re not sure how much time passes as the two of you gawk at the other, before you shake yourself out of it.

“Lix! Come on in!” you nearly shout, unable to control the volume of your voice.

“Wow, Y/n…” he murmurs as he steps inside the hotel room. “You look…”

“It’s a bit much, I know,” you interrupt him. You don’t think you can handle whatever he was about to say, good or bad. “But I wanted to show off a little at the wedding.”

“That won’t be an issue at all, I promise,” he says as his gaze traces your form again. His eyes darken for a moment, lost in some sort of intense thought, before he snaps out of it. Looking up at you with a bright smile on his face, he does a little spin to show off his outfit. “Told you I clean up real good, didn’t I?”

“Understatement of the century,” you mutter, your skin flushing. You can’t help but trail your eyes up from his shoes to his face. “Oh! I have something for you!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” you walk over to the small fridge in your shared room. Inside is a plastic takeout container, slight condensation covering the inside. “Well, technically I have something for both of us.”

You pop open the container to reveal a corsage and a boutonniere, a combination of lilac, lavender and mint. Picking up the boutonniere, you beckon Felix over. “This goes on your suit and I have one that matches.”

“Ooh, matchy matchy!” he lilts.

You playfully smack his shoulder and laugh. “Yes, matchy matchy.” 

He stands close to you, the toes of your shoes nearly touching, as you pin the flowers on to his lapel. You smooth your hand over the fabric of his jacket before looking up at him. He’s got that same adoring look in his eyes as he looks down at you. You feel yourself flush again, that cold shower’s calming effect has fully worn off now that you’re back in the warm glowing spotlight Felix seems to put on you. Bashfully, you look away and your eyes catch the clock on the bedside table.

“Oh! I need to get down to the dressing rooms with the wedding party’s flowers!”

You’re already power walking out of your room when you hear Felix trail behind you, “I’ll come help.”

You sneak into the bridal dressing room with a few boxes while the girls are still in pre-wedding prep. There’s a lot of movement all orbiting Jenny. When she sees you, she smiles and beckons you over. Felix hangs back, hovering by the entrance, not wanting to disturb the tittering over the bouquets. 

The bridesmaids love the flowers, each getting their own mini version of Jenny’s big bouquet, slightly unique in arrangement and color. You also reveal the corsages that they’ll be able to wear at the reception, also matching the bohemian theme. The din of chatter rises again in the room. Jenny sees Felix at the door and waves, smiling at him like they were old friends. She catches your eye and winks.

The bridal drop off was simple. The groomsmen drop off fills you with dread. While walking the boxes of boutonnieres over to the men’s dressing room, you feel your stomach do a few flips. Felix gives you a reassuring smile and waits in the doorway yet again. As you enter, you hear the cheerful, familiar voices of Peter and Bobby calling you over.

“Y/n! We wondered where you were,” Bobby says.

“Yeah, holy shit,” Peter says. “It’s been ages. I’ve never seen you grace our presence in anything but sneakers!”

“Hey guys,” you grin at the boys. These two chucklefucks have been your friends since the first week of college when you found yourself in an ice breaker circle during orientation. They were the two who introduced you to Johnny incidentally during a chaotic game of Edward 40-hands. Johnny had helped you drag them back to their dorm when they were three sheets to the wind. “Lovely to see you two looking like you’ve showered for once.”

“Hey now, don’t go complimenting us too hard,” Peter smiles with a big wide gummy smile. “Whatcha got there?”

At that moment, Johnny appears, giving you a flat mouthed smile. He looks slicked back and shiny, his cheeks a little too pink to seem suave. He looks a little wary seeing you all dressed up. With your heels on, you are at eye level with him and you know that he isn’t a fan of that.

“I came to pin on your flowers so you all match for the ceremony.”

You start pinning on the little bundles of flowers one by one. Johnny is last in the rotation, his boutonniere a little more complex than the groomsmen. You both stand in awkward silence for a moment, safety pin stuck between your teeth, as you maneuver the wrapping of his flowers.

“So…who’s the blonde?”

“Hmm?”

“Who’s the blonde dude hovering at the door?”

You turn your head, and make direct eye contact with Felix. He’s got a cool smile plastered on his face that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. The way the afternoon sun is hitting him makes him radiate though. Somehow he seems to bring his own sparkle with him everywhere he goes, like he can’t help but capture the attention of everyone surrounding him. You watch as he presses his tongue against the side of cheek as he looks at the two of you across the room.

“That’s Felix. He’s my…boyfriend,” the word feels strange in your mouth.

You see the muscle in Johnny’s jaw twitch as he mulls that over. “I thought you were bringing your sister.”

“Nope, you just assumed I was bringing her,” you say, your voice clipped. “Remember? You thought I was having trouble in the ‘dating department’?”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“A few months now.”

“Hmm,” he grunts out, eyes still on Felix. “Isn’t he kind of… too pretty for you?”

“Excuse me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“I mean, isn’t he a little…” Johnny raises his hand to make a limp wrist gesture.

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Johnny.”

“Oh, don’t get all offended on me. You know what I mean! He looks like a fairy,” Johnny whispers, too loudly. Everyone in the room goes quiet.

“Why are you being so fucking rude?” you feel the heat of anger roll through you, color rising in your cheeks.

“I’m not, I’m just surprised you’re into guys like that,” he sniffs, looking away. “Are you sure he’s into you?”

“Fuck you,” your voice bites out, adrenaline pumping through you.

Bobby comes up and claps Johnny a little too hard on the shoulder, forcing out a laugh. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying! He’s probably just hungover from the stag last night. You know how alcohol turns him into a little bitch.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Whatever,” you say, turning on your heel. “See you out there.”

You stomp over to the door where Felix is standing. As you approach, he holds out his hand for you to take. Unshed tears burn in your eyes, but you’re too mad to cry. Felix walks one step ahead of you, pulling you gently to a secluded corner near the lobby. 

“Y/n, you okay?” he leans down, concern painting his features. You’re breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down but it feels like there’s a swarm of bees under your ribs.

“Breathe.” Felix says as he pulls you into his arms. He hugs you tight and takes some deep breaths in a slow, soothing pattern. You don’t realize you’re shaking with anger until you’re pressed up against his chest, but you begin to relax in his embrace. He pulls back a bit when he feels your forehead slump onto his shoulder, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. 

“What he said doesn’t matter, I promise,” Felix says, his deep voice rumbling through you, close to your ear. “It’s hard to insult someone when you’re calling them pretty.”

You chuckle, looking up at him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Ehh, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he says. “He was insane to think that I wouldn’t be into you.”

“Yeah, my fake boyfriend has to be into me,” you chuckle. You feel much calmer now. “It’s like, the main reason you’re here.”

Felix gives you an inquisitive look, like the combination of a frown and smile, before shaking his head. “Yeah sure, fake boyfriend.”

You take one last deep breath to ground yourself. 

“Alright, let’s go find our seats.”

~

You’re no stranger to weddings. The families and friends shuffle in, light piano music playing in the background while everyone decides whether they want to sit on the bride or groom’s side. You hear a few hushed conversations about how lovely the florals are and secretly beam with pride. 

Felix drags you to a pair of seats on the bride’s side in the back row. He’s sitting close to the aisle side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to his side. The small circles he’s rubbing into your shoulder are meant to be soothing, but you feel some of that ache blooming in your chest again. This is what it would feel like to really be with him. 

Johnny files in, taking his places in front of the round floral arch you put together. You avoid Johnny’s eyes at all costs, not wanting to scowl the entire ceremony. Jenny doesn’t deserve that. Felix, on the other hand, can’t seem to keep his eyes off Johnny. If looks could kill, Jenny would be a widow before she even got married. 

The swell of the wedding music starts up as the bridesmaids line up. Everyone stands, Felix taking your hand in his once again. You watch as a few of the bridesmaids do a double take at him, raking over his outfit briefly. One of them fully gawks at him for a moment before she remembers where she is. Your eyes are focused on the flowers, watching how they compliment the outfits and how they blend with the rest of the styling. 

The piano switches to a slower version of “Here Comes the Bride,” which feels strangely traditional with all the bohemian decor. Nonetheless, Jenny, arm in arm with her father, slowly marches down the aisle. Her gown is soft and flowy, her hair long, her veil made in the style of macrame. It matches perfectly with the bouquet you created for her, you beam with pride. You find yourself smiling and leaning into Felix’s shoulder. He turns to you, fully looking away from the bride, looking at you with a soft expression. Your focus is on the bouquet as Jenny steps up to the front. The ceremony begins when the officiant gestures for everyone to be seated.

Felix grasps your hand, lacing your fingers together, as you sit. He runs his thumb over your knuckles tenderly as he watches. Your other hand finds his bicep as you lean into him. He grins and subtly flexes for you. While Felix is focused on the couple at the front, his hand slips out of yours gently. For a moment, you’re filled with disappointment, until he shifts to grab your leg, fingers dancing along your knee. The room fades into the background, now all you care about is the way his fingers feel against your skin.

The voice of the officiant drones on. Felix’s eyes still firmly face forward as he caresses down your thigh, the hem of your dress riding up an inch or two under his grasp. You look down, watching in awe at the light ministrations, the pads of his fingers tracing little heart patterns on the inside of your knee. The sensation makes your heart flutter and the sensitive skin under Felix’s hand buzzes in anticipation. 

You glance up at him to find his eyes still trained on the exchanging of vows. He looks stoic, almost as if the way he’s touching you is a mindless activity. Maybe it is, maybe you’re getting carried away, awash in the building arousal. You try to remind yourself that this is fake, he’s doing this to help you put on a show for others, to rub it in Johnny’s face a little. Felix is a master at the act if he’s able to get you to believe, even if just for a second, that he returns your feelings. Your heart sinks as you think of your own little delusion that he could feel the same about you. 

He looks down at you then, head leaned into his shoulder, both hands grasping at his arm. Whatever look you give him must spur him on, this time he lightly drags his nails up your inner thigh. You gasp at the sensation, arousal pooling in your belly. Your knees lurch closed, trapping his hand between your thighs. He smiles at you again, this time flashing his teeth, the tip of his tongue tapping at the point of one of his canines. Your legs shudder slightly and you whine, so low only he can hear it. He delicately slides his hand out from between your thighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again. 

The noise of the room kicks up again, everyone clapping while “The Wedding March” plays on the piano. You stand on shaky legs next to Felix. As Johnny and Jenny come down the aisle, Felix pulls you to him and presses a kiss to your temple, making direct eye contact with your ex. Your eyes flutter at the possessive kiss, realizing that you hadn’t imagined Felix’s lips in the same spot the other night as you drifted off. As your mind spins, you miss the way Johnny sneers at Felix, disdain dripping in his gaze.

As the rest of the wedding guests file out of the room behind the couple, Felix grabs your hand and drags you out, trailing behind everyone. Heading towards the reception, he brings your hand to his mouth, giving it a quick peck. He looks at you, his eyes glinting with mirth, as he says, “Come on, let’s go try the cake.”

~

taglist: @binniesbabe @jeonginsleftcheek @ivydoesit23 @stayatinykatsy @mong---mong @palindrome969 @dottydarling @chiaki-nanami-aesthetic

[delirious-donna]

Tales From The Housekeeper [Extra Drabble]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

an: despite never being seen, the developing relationship between you and Kento has been witnessed up close. Mrs McGarden has been Nanami's cleaner for many years and she knows in her heart what is happening within the walls of the apartment... a little diary that I thought was a fun idea.

warning: none, SFW, fluff and humour

Series Masterlist

𝓜𝓻𝓼 𝓜𝓬𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷’𝓼 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓰

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮: Nanami Kento 

𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼: general tidying, kitchen deep cleaned once a week and trash to be removed, vacuum and mop every other day, windows on a Friday, ad hoc jobs as and when 

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: very polite, young professional man, values his privacy, has a younger sister who has been known to visit unexpectedly (she has her own key for the door, keycard for the elevator and the passcodes), sister aside it is unusual for others to be visiting. Enjoys homemade bread and good coffee (reminder to bring by baked goods every now and then – especially banana bread and caramel pecan muffins) 

𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼: steer clear of anything overly floral, prefers subtle scents that evoke a sense of cleanliness, use Tom Ford Ébène Fumé reed diffuser in the master bedroom 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

No incidents to report. Apartment was empty on entry. Kitchen deep cleaned, skirting boards and cupboard doors included. Trash emptied. Took receipt of laundered items – left on master bed as requested. Replaced diffusers in living room and both bathrooms. 

𝓣𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

Strange phone call from Miss Nanami, client’s younger sister. I… I don’t know how to feel about it all. Over the years of my employment, I have grown very fond of Mr Nanami and whilst I do not see him most of the times I am here, on the occasions we do cross paths, he is always courteous and easy to converse with. That being said, I am not sure if I wish to be a part of the scheme she has proposed. I will have to think on it this evening, perhaps I will run it past Mr McGarden to see what he thinks of it all… 

Oh, before I forget. No other incidents to report. Linens from the beds stripped and remade with new sheets. All floors hoovered or mopped as planned. Plants watered. 

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

I don’t know if my conscious will hold out, but I have decided that I could not ignore the plight of Miss Karin’s friend. What kind of woman would I be if I were not to allow a young woman a safe place to stay? I’ll be honest, Miss Karin was extremely persuasive… she would make an excellent lawyer. All I have to do is act oblivious if asked, which should not be a problem given the upcoming business trip. It might be nice to have a feminine presence in the apartment, and I can remove all trace of her before Mr Nanami returns, of that I am certain. 

One broken coffee mug (I expect my clumsiness was a result of my slightly frayed nerves) and I have left a note with the promise of replacing it. Couch cushions fluffed, blankets refolded and the ceiling fan and other hard to reach areas dusted. Counters sprayed down with disinfectant. List made for tomorrow – operation deep clean. 

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I listed everything here it would take me an age. Suffice it to say the apartment is spotless, and I have left a Tupperware box of fruit scones for Mr Nanami to take away with him on his trip (my guilty conscious acting again and Mr McGarden was rather upset that there were no leftovers for him). Funny that I didn’t see his luggage out of the closet yet, perhaps he is packing last minute. I am both nervous and excited. I feel like a co-conspirator of some awful heist! 

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

I am a nervous wreck… I barely slept last night and found myself starting work far earlier than normal simply because I couldn’t relax. All last-minute details straightened out. Mr Nanami had left for work or the airport by the time I arrived. Unusually there were some leftovers from the previous evening left out – a crystal tumbler with a hint of whisky in the bottom and a bowl with the stems of grapes. It’s not like him to not pick up after himself but maybe he was in a rush. I left as quickly as I could, not wishing to startle the poor girl who would be staying in the apartment. This is going to be fine, right? Oh, dear lord, what have I let myself in for… 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I avoid being fired it will be a miracle. From what I’ve heard there was a mix-up and now Mr Nanami knows of his sister’s scheme and apparently, she might have thrown me under the bus too. I will be having words with her as soon as she deems to answer my calls, the little madam. I caught the barest glimpse of the guest this morning as she was heading into her room, she smiled and I got the sense that despite the confusion, she is happy to be here. 

Mr Nanami, on the other hand, had less to say to me than I thought. He asked if I had known about Miss Karin’s plan and I couldn’t play dumb, not under his gaze. The man can be intimidating without really trying and I hope to goodness he hasn’t scared the poor woman. Rather than react with anger, he simply tightened his jaw and gave a firm nod. There is something different about him, I’m not sure what makes me say that, call it woman’s intuition. I am on reduced hours until his guest leaves and I can only hope he doesn’t reconsider my offer of resignation. I really would miss him as a client. 

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂 

There is something brewing here, I can feel it. What I claimed as woman’s intuition is now so much more. Mr Nanami is more relaxed than I have ever seen him, and he wears it well. It is nice to see him looking less tired, his eyes are brighter, and I would swear he smiles more frequently. His companion is doing wonders for his mood and no wonder, she is such a lovely young thing. Very intelligent, witty, and most importantly, she doesn’t let anyone walk over her. We have chatted once or twice but only for a minute. I like her, and I don’t believe I am alone in that sentiment. 

I keep forgetting to detail my tasks, I would forget my head if it weren’t screwed on as Mr McGarden likes to remind me. Linens changed. Laundry ordered for collection on Monday morning. Floors cleaned. Mug replaced from last week. Plants watered and pruned. 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

Oh, my days. I don’t know what to think. The atmosphere continues to change every time I visit. Today it seems the two of them have ventured to the National Museum together. Would one consider that a date? Maybe I am reading into things too much. Too many Mills and Boon novels in my nightstand. He deserves happiness. Money can only afford so much. I’ve worked for Mr Nanami long enough to want to see him settle and be happy. I dare not get my hopes up but it’s impossible when I witness these furtive little glances between them. It’s also rather funny how they seem to fall silent whenever I am within earshot. It reminds me of my courting days… 

Living area straightened, a dog-eared book found down the side of the couch cushions, and I doubt it belongs to Mr Nanami. His bookshelves are stuffed full, but each book is in pristine, unread condition. The man simply does not have time for reading. Maybe they will change. Floors cleaned. I can’t help but notice that the apartment feels far more lived in than it ever has. Diffuser changed in the master bedroom. 

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

She left. I don’t know what else to say. The apartment is a mess, well, as messy as I’ve ever seen it. Decorative ribbon on the living room floor, a half empty bottle of whisky on the kitchen island, two mugs unused but set out… Mr Nanami refuses to speak to me, refuses to even meet my eye. I’d take it for anger if I didn’t know better. There is guilt in his gaze. Whatever happened yesterday, he won’t be drawn on the matter. I’ve thought to call Miss Karin but is it my place? Never have I seen the man so dishevelled and utterly miserable. I suspect he hasn’t bathed as I can smell the lingering alcohol when he slouches past. I don’t like this. I should have never meddled in his affairs. Just when I thought he might have found someone to brighten his days… oh, it’s such a mess. 

Kitchen disinfected, dishwasher emptied and reloaded. Living area tidied except for the ribbon which I dare not touch. Bedrooms… the guest room is barren and sad. Mr Nanami prevented me from stripping the linens, in fact, he practically shooed me from the room. Bathrooms cleaned. There is a lump in my throat as I write this. I wish I had never been a part of any of this, not when it has seemingly ended so disastrously. What shall I do? I suppose that nothing would be the best answer, it is not my business to meddle in. 

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

No one was home. I worry that Mr Nanami is not eating, there is very little trash and no leftovers in the fridge. I couldn’t help but peek inside the bedroom next to his and I found it exactly as it had been the last time I was here. The sheets are made but the ruffles show the clear form of a body huddled atop the bed. I’m not sure if it’s from the poor girl or if Mr Nanami has taken to sleeping in here. A sadness remains and I’ve taken to completing my tasks as quickly as possible to escape the gloom. If things have not improved over the weekend… perhaps I can offer a friendly ear? I doubt he would accept the offer, but I can’t continue on like this and feeling partly responsible. 

Windows washed. Floors cleaned. Empty liquor bottles taken out for recycling… he never normally drinks this heavily.  

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

I was running late today, and of all the days to fall behind. It must be serendipitous! The key was barely in the lock when my phone rang from the depths of my bag. Lo and behold… Miss Karin had finally returned my calls. I was halfway through giving her a mouthful when she cut me off with seven words that I will remember for years to come.  

He left work to go find her. 

I’m in shock. Never have I known Mr Nanami to leave work before the day was done. In fact, he often worked far later than he needed to just to stay ahead of the competition. There was something in Miss Karin’s voice, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she knows more than she was letting on. I could have cried on the spot. 

Linens changed although I have again left the guest bedroom. Kitchen deep cleaned. Plants watered and pruned. Dusting done. I took the liberty of baking some bread whilst I was here. The sun was long down by the time I left. I guess I lingered in the hopes of maybe seeing them both, but it wasn’t to be. There is hope in my heart once more and I will nurture it. Mr McGarden picked me up this evening and listened to me on the drive home. He told me about a saying from the country he was born and raised in… ‘whits fur ye’ll no go by ye’, which means what is for you will not go by you and I believe that in my heart. 

There will be a happy ending, or I will eat my hat! 

[tsu-kitty]

𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝓮𝓇𝓸

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓉𝓌𝓸

♡ wc › 1.5k

♡ contains › tsukishima x reader, fem!reader, tall!reader cause she's a middle blocker, reader is a nervous clutz with a fat crush on tsuki. kinda slowburn-ish. very fluffy.

♡ summary › after quite literally running into tsukishima (again), your pre-existing crush starts to grow even bigger.

♡ a/n › second part, woohoo! lowkey can be read as a stand alone, but part one provides a bit more context.

“Time really flies, doesn’t it?” Yachi said as the two of you walked down the stairs on the way out of school. As a reward for completing the first day, the two of you were going to treat yourselves to ice cream. “I can’t believe we’re already second years!”

“It’s crazy, right?”  you agreed. “Are you going to stay on as the boy’s manager?”

“Yes! I had an anxious nightmare about it last night. All the rivals teams were after me. It was so scary.”

You laughed at her story.

“But I’m still going to do it. I promised Kiyoko, and I can’t let her down.” She pumped her fist in the air.

“You’re so funny, Ya—ah!” Your heart dropped to your stomach. Misjudging how close you were to the landing, your foot missed a step and suddenly you were falling. Your arms flew up to shield your face, your eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the impact of the solid ground. Why you? Why on your first day of second year? Did you not pray hard enough at the shrine this morning? Were the gods unsatified with your offering?

The sensation of hitting the floor never came, though. Instead, the sensation was warm and oddly soft and smelled like fresh lemon laundry detergent, though there was a hint of vanilla tucked beneath it. Peaking one eye open, you were horrified to find Tsukishima was the person who had caught you. Not again.

Off to the side, Yamaguchi (who had been walking up the stairs with Tsukishima) cheered. “Wow, Tsuki! Awesome reflexes!”

Tsukishima ignored him, choosing to address you instead, a shadow of a smirk on his lips. “Please don’t make a habit out of this.”

You died a little on the inside, cringing at the fact that he remembered a year ago when you crash into him on the first day of school. Heat was creeping up your neck. Had he gotten more handsome over the spring break? Or was the shock of the fall making you delusional? No, you’d always thought Tsukishima was cute. Although now, maybe handsome was a better way to describe him. He was taller, his shoulders broader and his jaw more defined. His hair was longer, long enough to curl at the nape of his neck and behind his ears. A few stray waves poked out from the top of his head. When he wasn’t sneering or glaring, he looked almost angelic. It was all over for you…

Regaining your footing, you pulled out of his grip and bowed your head. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Too flustered to wait for a reply, you grabbed Yachi’s hand and took off down the stairs, taking extra care as you hopped down the steps. You didn’t stop until you were out of the building, where you immediately threw yourself again the wall and slid down to the dirt, hands covering your red face.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yachi shrieked, dropping down to fret over you. “Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts.”

“My pride,” you mumbled from behind your hands.

“Oh gosh, that’s serious! We have to get you to the nurse! Wait… your pride?”

You nodded.

Yachi paused. “I’m confused.”

“He’s so pretty,” you whispered. “Has he always been this pretty?”

“Say again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Yachi,” you whined, lowering your hands. “I think I have a crush on Tsukishima.”

“WHAT?”

“Chance ball!”

Watching Tsukishima play didn’t help your situation at all. His play style fascinated you. The way his eyes followed the ball, narrowing ever so slightly in concentration. And the way his lips quirked up when he successfully shut down a spike had you weak in the knees. 

“Follow up! Tanaka!”

This early morning scrimmage between the girl’s and boy’s volleyball teams was a lot tougher than you had expected. Logically, you knew the boy’s were good—they had made it to Nationals after all—but considering two of their previous starters had graduated, you’d figured they’d have a few growing pains. This was only somewhat true, however. Whilst their receiving ability relied heavily on the libero and only one of them had a particularly strong serve, their blocks and spikes were deadly.

“Now!” Suzuki called. 

Following her lead, you leaped into the air, arms flying up to block the spike. Meeting the height of Tanaka’s block was hardly a concern considering you measured almost the same as him. His strength, on the other hand, sent an icy fear through your veins. Yachi had mentioned something about Tanaka working out a lot recently. Something to do with living up to the ace name.

Arms straight, arms strong, don’t let him through.

The ball catapulted through the air, aiming slightly left of your block. Reflexes kicking in, you shifted your hand. You couldn’t let it through untouched. Slowing the momentum by a fraction of a second was better than nothing.

Smack!

“Ngh,” you grunted, a pang of pain slithering from your fingers up to your shoulder. You don’t stop, though. “One touch!”

It wasn’t until the boys had you beaten two sets to one and cleaning began did you notice the tingling in your right pinky. Comparing it to the other, it was definitely a little swollen. Not a lot, but enough to make you wonder if you should see the school nurse. If it still didn’t feel okay by lunch, you would see her, you decided. No need to overreact, it was probably just sore from when you blocked Tanaka’s spike. His hitting power was really something else.

Hours later, when the jingled of the lunch bell filled the halls, your pinky was still tingling. Inspecting it’s appearance in comparison to the other again as you walked, you concluded that it wasn’t anymore swollen then the morning. Still, it’d be best—

You hit a hard body. Again? Really? The force of the collision bounced you back, but a hand hooked around your elbow before gravity could yank you to the ground. 

“Pardon me,” you said, bowing at the waist. “Sorry for running into you.”

“I thought you said this wouldn’t happen again.”

Kill me now. You straightened. “Tsukishima.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “So, are you vision impaired or just an airhead?”

“No,” you pouted, avoiding his eyes in the hopes your cheeks would stop boiling. “I’m just… clumsy, I guess.”

“I see.” He tilted his head curiously. “So where are you going that requires you to not look at your surroundings?”

It was impressive how he managed to turn every statement and question into some form of insult or quip. 

“I was going to the nurse,” you told him. “I hurt my finger this morning playing against you all.”

Glancing down at the hand you were nursing against your chest, Tsukishima’s brow furrowed. “It looks fine.”

“I know, but I was going to ask the nurse to tape it, just to be safe.”

He gave you judgemental look. “Are you saying you don’t know how to do it yourself?”

Face burning, you shook your head.

“Tch, what kind of middle blocker doesn’t know how to tape their fingers?”

“The me kind, it seems,” you mumbled.

“Come with me, I’ll teach you,” he said, walking away before the thought of protesting could even cross your mind. 

You followed obediently as he lead you into his classroom and towards his desk where he told you to sit. Taking a seat at the desk in front of his, he dug through his book bag. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why, but being in Tskuishima’s class room and sitting at his desk felt oddly intimate. Maybe it was the simple fact that these things were associated with him and all his sour-attituded, smart-mouthed, angel-faced attitude. Oh, you so had a crush on him. 

Tsukishima secured the roll of  white tape. “Hand out.”

Heart skipping multiple beats, you layed the hand with the sore finger out, skin tingling with anticipation.

Tsukishima ripped two long strips of tape from the roll. Flipping your hand palm-up, he held your pink against your ring finger with a gentle pressure and started taping. Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest. His hands were so strong and warm, slightly calloused from volleyball, and his fingers were long and slender.

“So you wrap one strip around the base of your fingers,” he said. “And one at the top. Then you wrap them all the way around from the bottom to the top.” He picked up the roll again, circling it around your hand as he mummified your fingers. “It’s so easy, Hinata could do it.”

You knew just enough about the infamous Hinata to find the snide remark funny. “Thank you for teaching me, Tsukishima. I appreciate it.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, tearing the roll off and tucking it back in his bag. “Just don’t forget how to do it, airhead.” He stood up, lightly brushing his hand over your head as he walked away, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

[modanisgf]

002. HESISTATING

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wc: <1k

if you told haerin only an hour ago that she would be going to the girls basketball practice after school, she would call you insane. she wasn’t even sure right now why she was there, agreeing to something danielle said earlier on impulse.

haerin had walked down the hallway absorbed in her phone, not noticing they were approaching the gym. danielle and aeri opened the doors, the loud nose alarming haerin.

“why are we here?” haerin questioned, receiving confused glances from the two in front of her.

“we’re here to monitor over the girls basketball practice, we wanna see how we need to divide funding this month. i thought dani told you?” aeri said.

“are you serious..” haerin mumbled, ignoring the head shake danielle gave her.

“maybe you should start listening to what i say haerin.” danielle says, sighing.

“you talked to me while i was drafting funding for prom.” haerin deadpans.

“okay well, i needed you to come. i knew you weren’t gonna say yes cause of yn..” danielle says, mumbling the last part.

“she’s practicing right now?!”

“look haerin you’ll be fine, i don’t even get why you hate the girl she’s really nice.” aeri shrugs, “plus you have to be here, you are the treasurer.”

“you’re just saying that cause she’s yizhuo’s friend.” haerin says.

“i’m not..” aeri says, sighing.

“anyways, let’s go in!” danielle says, entering the gym with aeri following.

haerin hesitated to follow her friends, but soon went in picking up her pace in order to catch up with them. she ignored the eyes she felt staring at her, keeping her eyes trained on in front of her.

the trio took a seat in the stands together, them being the last to enter allowing the practice to commence. the practice had a smooth start up, each player working on their shooting first.

unfortunately for haerin, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. the way you played was so smooth and satisfying to watch, resulting you being the star player. you made every shot look easy, and even analyzed your teammates forms to provide feedback.

it was one of the many things kang haerin hated about you, you were extremely good at what you did, years of practice and experience contributing to it. haerin still remembered when she would call you up, only for you to tell her the same thing everytime she asked to hang out.

‘i’m practicing.’

the sentence rang in her head whenever she thought about you, reminding her of how you never set aside time for her.

haerin refocused on watching your team play, trying not to reminisce on the past. she felt her eyes roll when she saw you and ningning cheer each other on, the two of you making the most baskets.

danielle and aeri were talking silently, the conversation now registering in haerin’s brain.

“they’re really good.” danielle states, aeri nodding.

“what do you think haerin?” aeri asks, looking at the girl next to her.

“i agree with danielle, it looks like they’ve been practicing a lot.” haerin says, aeri nodding again.

“so far so good.”

the practice continued smoothly, mainly consisting of you and ningning excelling in each category. little did haerin know, you were trying to get her attention. you never tried this hard in practice, it resulting in you getting pulled over by one of your teammates.

“who’s in the crowd that your trying to impress?” rei asks.

“no one.” you start, “just trying to work harder this season.”

rei just dismissed the conversation, knowing you were lying. she’d probably find out soon, your friends not being the best at keeping secrets.

the practice finally came to a close, the three girls in the stands finalizing their decisions on the budget. haerin wrote all of it down, putting the paper in her binder after.

they all left the gym quickly after that, aeri leaving first leaving haerin and danielle.

“i saw you.” danielle says ominously.

“huh?”

“looking at yn.”

haerin froze, not knowing what to even say to her.

“the way she plays is just satisfying, there was nothing else to it.” haerin says, receiving a unconvinced look from dani.

“you want her so bad.”

“no i don’t?!”

TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN) — @jayjj7 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @ajjilhan @amourjins @isither @sserajeans @greenniee @isabbellle @gayforalll @leeohknows @airice @yeetaberry127 @l0l44444 @inosfavgf @emphobics @edamboon @s3mz @newhairnewjeans @xen248 @nooneissheree @wintersgff @haechansbbg @gtfoiydlyj

— if your name is red i can’t tag!

[f1-jay]

Celebrate - Mark Webber

Pairing: Mark Webber x Reader

Summary: When you finally admit that you are in love with him you celebrate his Le Mans win in a way both of you won't forget.

Warnings: MDNI - Smut (P in V, M!receiving oral)

Words: 1.3k

You and Mark have been close since the day you met around three years ago. Today, you were at Le Mans to support him and the team. There wasn’t many things you loved more than travelling with Mark to be there for him, whether he won or lost. You would celebrate, cheer him up, let him rant, or do anything he needed. After knowing him for a year, you fell in love with him but never told him or anyone.

You were on the grid with him before the opening ceremony started. Then it was time for everyone but drivers and team officials to leave. Your arms wrap around him and his around you, then you go to leave before turning back and calling his name to get his attention. He looks back at you and raises his eyebrows to question what you want.

“I love you!” You blurt out. His face turns to one of shock and happiness, but he doesn’t have the time to question it, so he does the only thing he can.

“I love you too” You smile then get off the track. You were wondering if he said it in a friendly way or if he meant it the way you did. Just under four hours later, he was finishing his first stint and coming in, watching as he hopped out the car. It wasn’t too long till he found you, finding a semi-quiet spot to sit. “What did you mean... with what you said before you left?”

“What did you mean when you said it back?” you question, and he smiled, shaking his head a little.

“I asked you first” You let out a soft, quiet sigh.

“Well, I meant that I fell in love with you about two years ago, and every day I continue to fall a little bit more. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way about someone.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait to hear what he has to say. He looks at you with admiration.

“Good because I meant what I said; I’m completely in love with you.” He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. You stay facing him but avert your eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “Can I kiss you?” Your eyes flicker back up to his and you nod giving him enough confirmation to pull you close. The moment your lips met was bliss, intense feelings expressed in such a gentle way.

When you pull away, all you can do is stare at each other. Both of you are blushing a little bit, smiles are on both of your faces. It’s like you were talking without saying anything, even though neither of you knew the right words. He was just over four hours into a 24-hour race. You didn’t feel like it was the right time to ask him about dating or if he even wanted that, but Mark obviously knew what he wanted.

“I don’t think this is the most romantic way to do this but...” He shrugs “Will you be my girlfriend?” You quickly respond with a nod.

“Yes”

“Yeah?” The smile on his face is one of pure joy and relief “I’ll take you out for a proper date when all this is over to make it official”

“That sounds nice” You lean forward and give him a quick kiss.

-

Thoughout the remaining 20 hours you and Mark did the regular things; sleeping (which he admitted was easier with you by his side), eating, trying to keep entertained then while he was in your eyes we’re glued to the screens or results, cheering him on.

With just over two hours to go, the team prepared for the final driver swap, putting Mark in. He left the pits in 6th; three of the cars ahead would have to come in soon, which would put him in 3rd. Fast forward, and the top three are all coming in for their final pit stops. Mark gets into 2nd place. The last few laps included some close racing and a nail biting finish. The pride that filled you watching him cross that line first was indescribable.

The time into the evening is filled with the podium, interviews, and many congratulations from everyone. Eventually, you two make it back to Marks hotel room. When the door shuts he grabs your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. As he lowers your feet back to the floor, he kisses you.

“You won Le Mans! You’re incredible” you kiss him again, a big grin on both of your faces. “I was going to say I want to reward you, but I’m sure you’d rather shower and get some proper sleep. You have to be up early for interviews.”

“I’m not gonna say no to a shower for both of our sakes, but I’d like that reward” He winks at you.

“Can I join you?” You place a hand on his chest. He nods and leads you into the bathroom, undressing you and himself before getting in the shower. You gently wash each other, massaging his shoulders as you apply the soap. You get out and dry yourselves off before entering the bedroom and making Mark lay back on the bed.

You kneel on the bed beside him, lightly trailing your fingers up his thigh and the underside of his cock. You wrap your fingers around him and, at an agonisingly slow pace, jerk him. Mark sits up on his elbows to watch you, you lean over and give him a kiss.

“I’m so proud of you” you say, praising him with a soft smile. When you reach the base of his cock, you stop moving your hand. You lean down and lick the top, then lightly blow on it, making his cock twitch. You once again lean down, focusing on just the tip, sucking and licking teasingly slow. Out of the corner of your eye you see Marks head tilt back slightly and let out a quiet, shaky groan. His hand comes up to brush your hair behind your ear.

You take more of his cock into your mouth, remaining still for a moment before starting to bob your head. His fingers slowly take through your hair. At first, you use your hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth then you work your way further down, eventually deepthroating him, gagging slightly. You continue to do that until you have to take a breath and sit back on your heels.

“Can I ride you?” You pout slightly and sweetly flutter your eyelashes.

“No need for all that, sweets. I don’t need convincing” he tilts his head to give permission. You straddle his hips and sink onto him, quietly gasping as you feel the delightful stretch. Once you bottom, you clench around him, and his grip on your waist tightens. Your hands are spread across his chest, and you start lifting your hips to bring them back down. You keep a steady pace, not wanting to wear yourself out.

“Fuck, feels so good Daddy” You can see his jaw tighten when you say it. His hands caress your sides, up and down at the speed that you’re moving on him. You know when he starts to get close as he starts to thrust up. One of his hands comes between you to rub your clit causing a squeak to leave your lips. It doesn’t take long for him to release into you. The sound of the moan that leaves him gives you butterflies. His thumb speeds up just slightly, and you automatically start to cum around his cock. Your nails dig into his chest, and a few curses also escape.

You chest meets his as you both come down and try to catch your breath.

“You joining me in the shower again?” you nod.