#not exactly out of bounds so i'll tag this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochasenby · 7 months

Text

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚄𝚜

Valeria x F! Reader She’s your obsessive ex. You broke up with her after a harsh realization that she would literally kill for you. She’s been sending you flowers for months to win you back over. She won’t stop till she has you in her arms or beneath her.

Tags: face-sitting, cunnilingus, strap-on use

"You fucker!" Y/n snapped as the men roughly dragged her into the warehouse. Her body ached from the rough rope that wrapped around her limbs, immobilizing her from running away. Cold metal jammed harshly against her spine, making her wince.

"Watch your tone, bitch." A man snapped at her, forcing the gun to drag against her skin. Y/n yelped in pain, looking over her shoulder to glare at him. How did it end up like this?

Hours ago, Y/n stood alone in her kitchen, glaring at the bouquet on her counter—another bundle of red roses. She knew who sent them; she didn't even have to glance at the notecard. They were beautiful, in full bloom despite the harsh winter storm that brewed outside.

She grabbed the stems, noticing that each thorn had been meticulously twisted off except for one.

She quickly drew her hand back, cursing as a thorn pricked her palm. "Fuck." She hissed, snatching the bouquet and tossing it into the trash along with the rest. She grabbed the notecard, preparing to toss it, but paused.

She stared down at the gold ink, her thumb tracing over each detail. With a heavy sigh of defeat, she turned it over. But just before she could read whatever devotion of love and worship was written on it, a loud whack echoed as she fell to the floor.

Her vision blurred, and the last thing she saw was a pair of boots that looked all too similar to a particular war criminal.

And that's how she ended up here, arms bound together with itchy rope that was so close to cutting off her circulation. And a pounding headache that made her want to shriek. She glared at the bald man who held her captive, wishing death upon him and his next of kin for generations.

Just before she could tell him off, a bullet flew through the air, lodging into the man's shoulder. It happened so quickly that Y/n could barely process it. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as she stared in horror at the man. He writhed in agony on the ground, his hand cupping his oozing shoulder.

"Who do you think you are, pendejo? You think this is a game?" A hiss echoed as Y/n's heart raced. She knew that tone all too well.

"Valeria." Y/n whispered breathlessly as Valeria appeared from the shadows, gun in hand, and her eyes blazed with malice.

Valeria stepped closer, pressing the heel of her boot into the man's head. "Apologize, hijo de puta, or I'll blow your brains out." She uttered, moving the gun to tap against his cheek.

The man gritted his teeth before his eyes darted to Y/n. "I'm sorry."

A click echoed as Valeria moved to point the gun between his eyes. His body stiffened as he quickly scrambled onto his knees.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, El Sin Nombre!" He pleaded desperately as she scoffed.

"Get the fuck out." She hissed as the man scrambled off the floor, darting out of the warehouse alongside the rest of her men.

Valeria rolled her eyes, stuffing the gun into her hip pocket. Y/n watched in disbelief, her jaw agape. "What the fuck?" She whispered as Valeria's attention turned to her.

The malice quickly vanished, only to be filled with longing and adoration.

"Mi Vida," Valeria cooed, reaching to cup Y/n's face. Y/n flinched back, her body defensive from her touch.

"Valeria, what the fuck. Do you know how fucking crazy you are? Why the fuck did you kidnap me?!" She shouted in anger.

Valeria seemed unaffected by her words, the adoration in her eyes only shining brighter.

"You know exactly why, mi amor," Valeria uttered, her voice laced with desire and possessiveness.

"How long must this game of cat and mouse continue when I can just do this?" She reached out, her hand finally resting on Y/n's face.

A shudder ran down Y/n's spine. "Valeria, this isn't right. It's over between us."

Valeria's grip tightened on Y/n's chin, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Y/n's lips.

"No, mi amor, it's far from over," she whispered, her voice laced with determination. "You think you can walk away from me? Think again."

“You’re fucking crazy,” Y/n whispered, her harsh words causing Valeria's eyes to start to fill with annoyance.

“You killed a man without any regrets right in front of me, and you expect me to forget it ever happened?” Y/n uttered as Valeria tapped her lips.

"Regrets?" Valeria laughed, her voice dripping with venom. "That man meant nothing to me, mi amor. I did what I had to do to protect what's ours."

Her fingers trailed along Y/n jawline, her touch simultaneously gentle and possessive. "I killed for you, Y/n. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means getting my hands dirty."

Y/n stared at her in horror. She knew deep down that Valeria's love came with a dark side that frightened her. Valeria's love was obsessive. Valeria's love had no end to it. And she just happened to fall into Valeria's web. But no matter how far Y/n tried to run or how hard she struggled, she trapped herself even more.

The pull Valeria had on her was intoxicating. And something about the crazed look in her eyes made Y/n shudder. And Valeria knew it.

"You call me crazy, but look who's responding to my touch?" Valeria uttered, her hand moving to cup the base of Y/n's neck. She could feel the beats of Y/n's heart, how it raced from each glide of her fingers.

"Sabes que no puedes dejarme." Valeria cooed in her ear, her grip on Y/n's neck tightening just enough to make her gasp.

"You still want me," Valeria whispered as her gaze met Y/n's. Y/n stared at her with frustration and anger, yet hidden behind was want. As Valeria's lips brushed over her ear, she shuddered. The possessive grip she had on her neck made her knees almost buckle.

When was the last time they had been this close?

"I fucking hate you," Y/n spat, her hiss weak as Valeria's lips twitched upwards.

"No por mucho tiempo."

Y/n grunted as she was shoved, her back colliding with the mattress. The rope that still bound her arms ground against the bed, making her groan in pain. She stared up at Valeria with fierce eyes as Valeria straddled her thighs.

With a swift motion, Valeria reached down, her fingers deftly undoing the restraints that bound Y/n's hands.

"Now, mi amor," Valeria's voice dripped with authority, "Show me just how much you hate me." She mocked as Y/n's eye twitched.

"Bitch." Y/n whispered before she reached up, her hands gripping the edge of Valeria's shirt. Their lips crashed together in a passionate clash, a battle of dominance and desire.

It was a battle that Y/n quickly lost as Valeria kept her pinned beneath her. One of Valeria's hands wrapped around Y/n's neck, squeezing firmly enough to make Y/n's head spin. Her other hand slid beneath Y/n's shirt, her fingers skimming up her stomach toward the edge of her bra.

Y/n moaned beneath her, arching up into her touch. "Valeria," Y/n whispered breathlessly.

Valeria took the opportunity to press her tongue through the gap of Y/n's lips. Their tongues glided against one another as the kiss deepened. The need to breathe grew stronger as Y/n quickly broke the kiss, panting as Valeria smirked.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Valeria's hand slid lower, tracing the curve of Y/n's waist before slipping beneath the waistband of her pants. Her fingers danced along the edge of her panties, teasingly brushing against her sensitive skin.

Y/n's breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as she arched into Valeria's touch. Valeria's lips brushed against Y/n's ear, her voice a low, seductive whisper.

"You're mine, mi amor. Every inch of you belongs to me."

Valeria's fingers slipped past the fabric of Y/n's panties, delving into her wetness. Valeria's eyes darkened at the feeling, the slickness of Y/n's arousal coating her fingertips. She began to explore and caress with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her touch growing more insistent and demanding.

Y/n's body trembled beneath her, her moans growing louder and more desperate. "Valeria--" Y/n gasped as Valeria's thumb traced her clit.

Valeria's grip on Y/n's neck tightened slightly, a silent reminder of her control. With each stroke of her fingers, she pushed Y/n closer to the edge, her gasps and moans filling the room.

But Valeria was not satisfied with just this. She wanted to push Y/n further, to make her beg and plead for release. With a wicked smile, she withdrew her hand from between Y/n's legs, leaving her gasping and on the brink of climax.

"Valeria!" Y/n cried out in frustration as Valeria moved her fingers to her lips. She lapped the fluids that coated her fingertips, her gaze turning hungry.

Her voice dripped with seduction as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over Y/n's ear. "Oh, mi amor, you have no idea how delicious you taste," she whispered, her words laced with a hint of sadistic pleasure.

Y/n's breathing grew uneven, a mix of desire and anticipation coursing through her veins. Valeria's hand trailed down Y/n's body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake until it reached the apex of her thighs once again. Without warning, she plunged her fingers back into Y/n's wetness, resuming her relentless exploration.

The sensations overwhelmed Y/n, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her moans grew louder, her body arching against Valeria's touch.

"Please, Valeria," she whimpered, her voice laced with desperation. "I need to come."

A wicked smile played on Valeria's lips as she quickened the pace of her fingers, her movements becoming more forceful and demanding. She reveled in the power she held over Y/n, how she could bring her to the brink and deny her release.

"I thought you hated me," Valeria mocked, causing a string of curses to leave Y/n's mouth.

"You'll come when you submit to me," Valeria hissed, moving her head lower. A cry left Y/n's lips as Valeria's tongue began lapping her clit with deliberate and needy strokes.

Y/n's hips bucked upward as Valeria forcefully held them down. Her lips wrapped around her clit before pushing her tongue deep into her folds. Y/n groaned in pleasure, her body buzzing with want. She could feel herself growing closer to the edge of release, but just before she tipped over--- Valeria pulled back, licking her lips.

A frustrated cry left Y/n's lips. "Please, Valeria," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. "I need to come. I can't take it anymore."

Valeria's eyes darkened as she reached upwards, grabbing Y/n roughly by her neck. She yanked her closer, their bodies practically grinding against one another.

"Louder," she demanded, her voice low and commanding. "Beg for me, puta."

"Please-- Fuck I-- I just want to come. I'll stay with you and stop running away; just please let me come." Y/n begged with teary eyes.

Valeria's eyes darkened as she roughly pressed Y/n down, straddling her thighs. "You sound so needy, preciosa," She cooed, moving back to spread Y/n's legs.

"I've imagined so many different ways I could have you beneath me again, crying and begging for me," Valeria muttered, her nails tracing Y/n's thighs. Valeria moved back, her hands pulling her pants down, along with her panties.

Y/n's breath hitched as Valeria climbed on top of her, pressing her deeper against the mattress. "You want to cum, mi amor? You'll have to earn it." Valeria uttered.

Y/n stared up at Valeria before it clicked in her head. She moved back, propping herself on a pillow. She reached forward and pulled Valeria closer. Valeria smirked and raised her hips as they hovered over Y/n's face.

"Go on, prove yourself," Valeria uttered as Y/n swallowed thickly.

Without hesitation, Y/n leaned forward, her tongue darting out to flick against Valeria's clit. A hiss escaped Valeria's lips, her hands tangling in Y/n's hair.

Valeria's grip tightened in Y/n's hair, guiding her movements. Y/n surrendered herself to Valeria's control, a moan leaving her lips as Valeria yanked at her hair.

Valeria rocked her hips, grinding against Y/n's mouth. "Good girl," Valeria hissed as Y/n's tongue traced patterns. Y/n's hands gripped Valeria's thighs, holding her in place as she continued to worship her with her mouth.

"Meirda." Valeria moaned, feeling her thighs begin to tremble slightly. She looked down and let out a breathless laugh. She yanked Y/n's hair, causing a cry to leave her lips.

"Look at me," Valeria uttered as their gazes met.

"You look so pretty like this," Valeria cooed, grinding herself on Y/n's tongue. Y/n shuddered at the praise, her hands cupping Valeria's hips to pull her closer. The ache between her legs was so intense she had to fight the urge to move her hand down.

And, of course, Valeria noticed as her eyes flashed with amusement. "You don't get to touch yourself, not yet." She whispered.

Y/n whimpered at the denial, her body aching with need. Her tongue worked fervently against Valeria's throbbing clit, forcing a moan from Valeria's lips.

Valeria's movements became more urgent, her hips grinding against Y/n's mouth with a fierce intensity. She felt her climax building, the coil of pleasure tightening within her core.

"You're doing so well, mi preciosa," Valeria moaned. "Make me come; show me how much you want it."

Encouraged by Valeria's words, Y/n intensified her efforts, tongue flicking and swirling with a newfound determination. She could feel Valeria's grip on her hair tighten further, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

And then, with a shuddering gasp, Valeria's orgasm crashed over her. Her body trembled, her walls clenching around Y/n's tongue as waves of pleasure washed over her. Y/n panted heavily as Valeria raised her hips, allowing her the oxygen to return to her lungs.

Yet as soon as she got it, the air in her lungs seemed to vanish as Valeria reached into the dresser next to them and pulled out a strap-on.

"Oh." The only word left her lips as Valeria grabbed and yanked her closer. Valeria smirked, her eyes darkening with hunger as she fastened the strap-on securely around her hips.

Valeria moved closer, her hands caressing Y/n's thighs, spreading them wide open. Her fingers danced along the slick folds, teasing and testing Y/n's readiness.

"You look so pretty beneath me," Valeria uttered before pressing the strap tip in. Y/n let out a choked moan, her eyes widening at the intrusion.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body convulsing in painful pleasure as their hips slotted together.

"Open your eyes," Valeria hissed, pulling out slowly before setting a rough pace.

Y/n quickly obeyed as tears began rolling down her cheeks. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through Y/n's body, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding and the echo of Y/n's wails.

Y/n's nails clawed into the sheets, her body arching to meet Valeria's thrusts, craving more. "V-Valeria!" She sobbed as Valeria's hand connected with her neck once more. The sensation of being filled and stretched by Valeria's strap-on was overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

She squeezed before bringing their faces closer together. "You can't ever leave me, my love," She whispered before crashing their lips together.

Valeria's pace quickened, her thrusts growing more forceful and demanding. Y/n's body trembled with each thrust, her pleasure mounting with each passing second. She could feel the coil of ecstasy tightening within her, the need for release growing unbearable.

"Valeria," she gasped, breaking the kiss. "Please, let me come. I can't-- I can't do it anymore--"

Valeria's grip tightened on Y/n's hips, her thrusts becoming more relentless. "Beg for it."

Y/n's body ached with both pleasure and frustration, her desperate pleas filling the room. She begged and pleaded for Valeria to grant her release, her voice filled with raw need.

Valeria's eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and control as she continued to thrust into Y/n. But as the intensity of their connection grew, Valeria could feel her climax building. The coil of pleasure within her grew tighter, driving her closer to the brink.

With a final thrust, Valeria couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a moan of Y/n's name, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of ecstasy. The sight and sound of Valeria finding her release was enough to push Y/n over the edge.

Y/n's body tensed, pleasure consuming her as her orgasm washed over her in a powerful wave. She cried out Valeria's name, her voice a mix of ecstasy and satisfaction. They stilled for a few moments as Y/n panted heavily.

Tears were still streaming down her face as she felt Valeria's hand wipe them away.

"Nothing could ever separate us, Y/n." She uttered, leaning closer to press their lips together once more.

"Aún en la muerte, siempre serás mía."

#smut #valeria garza #valeria garza smut #valeria x reader #valeria cod #valeria garza x reader #valeria mw2 #val

400 notes · View notes

lizzieisright · 1 month

Text

Moon peppers (4)

(1) (2) (3)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.

In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them.

You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.

Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out.

Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse.

Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible.

Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds.

At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you.

“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace.

Abby growls louder.

“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”

Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down.

“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility.

This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.

“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again.

You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.

“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”

Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her.

“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses.

“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”

You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck!

The wolf stomps after you.

“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf.

“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.

“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her.

But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back.

“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”

“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.

“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.

For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath.

“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face.

The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you.

Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before.

Well. She can play nice too.

“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!

You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces.

It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation.

“You didn't have tattoos before.”

You smirk sadly.

“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”

How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?

“So you still do deals.”

“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”

“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”

“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”

“I heal fast.”

“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”

Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?

“How far is too far?”

“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”

Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you.

You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away.

It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)

You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all.

“It's bad.” You laugh.

“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”

You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad.

(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life).

“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”

“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous.

“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.”

Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it.

“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute.

“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer.

Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried.

“Do you have any meat?”

“...No.”

“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes.

“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.”

That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo.

“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.

You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.

After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes.

She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now.

You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you.

“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”

Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her?

“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?

“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.”

“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.

“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”

Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad.

“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way.

“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”

Abby hums, thinking it over.

“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”

“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return.

The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous.

The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house.

“Why don't you use wood like normal people?”

“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.”

Abby huffs.

“So you rely on your magic all the time.”

“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan.

Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night.

You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised.

You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #moon peppers

129 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 6 months

Text

Fractured

Summary: Tech's recent injury has led him to your Medical Bay, and despite you being excellent at your job, Tech needs additional assistance with easing the pain. You have something fun in mind.

Pairing: Tech x gn!Reader

Tags: Medical assistance, Fractured bones, Medic Reader, Friends to lovers, Oral (giving,) Handjobs, Size kink, Cock worship, Large cocks, Flirting, Pain relief.

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: This is set after Episode 1&2 of Season 2. I actually started writing this back when those episodes aired, but then… depression… lol I have never broken/fractured a bone before (alpha genes,) so I have no idea what actually goes on when you break one lol. I did my research, but… IDK, this is probs off, but you're not here for the medical side of things, are you? Also, I like the idea of nerds with big dicks. I don't really care about size IRL, but Tech with an absolute unit of a cock? Yeah, sign me the fuck up!!!

"You got squished like a bug."

"I did not-" Tech cuts himself off. "Like a bug? Please, restrain yourself from making such comedic remarks about my pain and suffering."

With that, Tech lets out a grunt, and you're unsure if it's at your remark, or an outlet from the pain that he's currently in.

Tech was squished like a bug during the last mission. Splat! As you so put it, after Tech explained what exactly happened in that war chest. The force of a thousand suns flattened his poor leg, and his thigh soaked up most of the damage.

That's what he gets for not wearing thigh armour.

That comment didn't go down well, either. However, Tech should know by now that your wit and sarcasm will never fail you. You have, after all, been running with the Batch long before the Clone Wars fizzled out into… whatever this is, The Galactic Empire, and those who opposite it.

If only Hunter would allow you and the others to join the fight…

Back onto the topic. Tech was carried into the Marauder's medical wing, with Echo's assistance, and left on the medical bed for you to check him over. He was hissing and wincing as he pushed himself up onto the table, his hands flexing whilst he gripped onto his thigh, and pleading eyes met yours as he began going over the series of events.

You were stationed with Hunter and Wrecker, seeing as Wrecker is your loyalist customer when it comes to injuries, only Tech has taken you by surprise!

"It's definitely fractured," you state as you dig through your medical kit, finding something exciting to dial down the pain. Tech has stated that he'd prefer to remain awake, which is understandable, seeing as you won't be stitching him up, or worse, cutting him open.

"I assume I'll have to lounge around with a cast on for the next six weeks?" Tech questions, his eyes watching you as you read over a few labels, deciding which drugs to supply.

"Minimum," you say with a soft nod, half-focused on his words. "These will do," you decide, holding the pill bottle in one hand, whilst the other shuts your medical box.

You turn to face Tech, and with a nonchalant expression, you order, "take off your pants."

Tech's eyes blink wide beneath his goggles, and he lets out a sheepish cough before asking, "pardon?"

"I can't do an X-ray with your pants still on, and do you really want your cast applied over those jeans?" you point to his new pants - casual, straight jeans, which surely can't be comfortable to work in?

Forgive him. It's his first time out in the Galaxy, and a newly freed man is bound to make poor decisions. Live and learn, Tech…

"Oh," Tech mutters. "Understood."

You hand him the pill bottle first, along with a glass of water, and give Tech a strict order to take his drugs before stripping off. "I'll give you some privacy, call for me when you're ready," you inform, and leave the medical wing, the door swishing shut behind you.

Sure, you've seen Tech in all sorts of states, almost naked that one time, back when you were new. Wrecker had found it hilarious to fiddle with the refresher's water supply as Tech went to take a shower, and poor Tech, who was rather reserved when first meeting you, had to leave the refresher with only a towel around his waist. He had barked at Wrecker to, "leave the hot water supply alone! Are you attempting to impress our newest member? Or perhaps, make a fool of me? Both? Do you find this amusing?!" blah blah blah…

Minutes have passed, and you overhear Tech calling out, "you may come in."

The door swishes open, and you're greeted by Tech in the same position on the medical bed, relaxing back against the headboard. An untidy pile of armour and clothing has appeared on the floor, not that he has the ability to neatly organise them.

Tech remains in just his turtleneck under armour, his fingertips currently running along the neckline, picking at its tightness. He's wearing a standard pair of briefs, nothing enticing, and the hemline thankfully stops above the X-ray zone. Great! You don't fancy having to order Tech to remove those as they're in the way…

As for the last item of clothing, they're-

"Tech," you speak with firmness. "Are those my socks?"

Tech stops picking at his neckline to gawk down at his feet. His wiggles his toes mindlessly as he sheepishly mumbles, "it appears they are."

"Is that so?" you repeat with a raised brow.

Tech's pleading eyes come out again as he meets your gaze. "I could not find a pair of my own this morning, and seeing as we were in a rush, I opted for the next best thing."

Your eyes trail from his to look at your socks once more, the little tookas on them smiling at you. They're fuzzy, warm and snuggly, and not the sort of item that you ever thought you'd see on Tech.

Omega? Perhaps.

Wrecker? Definitely.

But Tech?

"The next best thing," you repeat his words again. "I'm surprised that you picked the tookas over the voorpaks."

Tech scoffs. "Tookas are the obvious choice. Whilst voorpaks may be pleasing to the eye, they're needy, with no consideration for personal space. Tookas, on the other hand, are far more independent animals, with a…" Tech shuts his mouth, and nervously licks his lips before asking, "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"A sign that the drugs have kicked in," you say with a shrug. "Time to X-ray!"

Tech lets out a defeated sigh, and watches as you set up the X-ray machine. It's a numbing and dull task, but needed, seeing as such a smart man has managed to get himself injured.

The X-ray is taken, and you leave Tech to his own devices as you begin processing the scan at your desk. Whilst you wait for the image to form, you check on a few other things, and in the corner of your eye, you notice how Tech fails to sit still.

His fingertips are running along his neckline again, attempting to find fresh air, even though his under armour has never seemed restricting before. A light glisten of sweat is sitting above his brow, and whenever Tech's hands stray from his neckline, they rest directly on his lap. His fingertips begin fidgeting with the hem of his briefs, only for his eyes to meet yours, and his hands to fall motionless.

"Are you alright?" you question.

"F-fine," Tech mutters. "Just awaiting the results."

With that, the scan is processed, and you hum to yourself as you study it. Tech doesn't look away from you; he studies your reaction, and his shoulders drop with relief as yours do. "It's not as bad as I thought," you state as you rise from your desk. "I'll apply a cast, and unfortunately for you, you'll be bound to the Marauder for the next few weeks."

"Charming," Tech huffs.

You put together a bowl of warm soapy water, and hand it over to Tech, along with a towel. "Give your thigh a good scrub. It'll be the last time it's cleaned until the cast can come off."

Tech follows your orders, and leaves you to begin putting the cast supplies together. He's letting out soft grumbles as he scrubs himself down, not applying much pressure, seeing as bruises have already begun forming.

Within minutes, you're ready, and Tech is attempting to dry his thigh. The bowl of water is discarded, and you softly mutter, "here," as you take the towel from him. "Let me help."

With your order, Tech slowly bends his leg, raising his knee high enough so that you can gently dry the underside of his thigh - a task that he was struggling to do alone. He's still wincing as you dab over the area, but nowhere near as much as he was when tending to himself. It seems you're light on your touch, and Tech is silently thankful for it.

"Keep your leg bent like that," you instruct as you dispose of the towel, and bring your cast supplies over to the workbench.

You gently run your palm over Tech's thigh, questioning if his skin is dry enough to begin the application, and only now do you realise the predicament that you're in.

You're no stranger to Tech's good looks - impeccable cheekbones, a toned chest, nimble fingers, adorable doe eyes, and a hairline so sharp that it can slice through beskar - but the issue is purely that, his good looks. You're attempting to work, and the sensation of your fingertips dancing through the light hair on his tanned thighs is causing quite the distraction.

You scoot your stool over to the medical bed, and adjust the height. Once seated, you let out a deep sigh before beginning your work, attempting to keep your eyes on his forming bruises, rather than allowing it to wander… higher…

Tech looks down at you, quite literally, watching through his tinted goggles as you begin binding his leg, paying special attention to any signs of discomfort - not that he shows any. His fingertips are subconsciously entwining with each other, fidgeting, and attempting to cover up his briefs out of politeness. It's not that you've never seen Tech, or any of the boys in their undies before, but your face is less than half a meter from his crotch, and you're both well aware.

A huff flows from your lips as you fix the soft material in place, the easy part over and done with. Now, it's time to wet the plaster, and apply it one strip at a time - a lengthy process, seeing as you have to wait for each layer to dry before continuing.

As time goes on, you both seem to relax, becoming accustomed to your new-found closeness. Tech even strikes up a light conversation, filling you in on his side of the mission, and speaking highly about the civilian that he met on the way.

"He called me Ace," Tech informs you, "not that I had any issue with it. I found the nickname rather appealing."

Your eyes trail up to meet his, and a soft laugh slips from your lips as you repeat, "Ace?"

"I think it suits me," Tech says with a shrug. "Besides…"

His words continue, shifting into comforting background noise as you do your job. At least Tech is comfortable with you; when you first met, he'd only ever correct you, or information dump on you. Now, you can hold a conversation, seeing as you managed to win him over after correcting him on a minor detail a few weeks into being stationed with the Batch.

The more Tech mutters, the more his form relaxes. His hands move from his lap to adjust his goggles, not that they probably need it, and you can't help but notice something in the corner of your eye.

In hindsight, this was your fault. You shouldn't have looked. You should have kept your focus on your work, and prevented your eyes from prying at Tech's crotch. He is, after all, a grown man sitting in his underwear, with a pretty Medic rubbing their hands along his bare thigh. Tech is a soldier, and it's a known fact that soldiers don't have much leisure time, let alone spare time to do… stuff.

Your lips fall apart, and every circuit in your brain fries within an instant. Your hands, wet and covered in plaster, come to a halt in the middle of a wrap, and all you can focus on is… that.

Tech, after adjusting his goggles, instantly falls silent as he notices that you've come to a halt. He calls out your name, and despite his exceptional mind, it takes him a few moments to realise what's caused you to stop like a deer in the headlights.

"Oh," Tech sheepishly sighs as he puts two and two together. "I…" he stutters, but words fail him. So, thinking on his feet (and fractured leg) he returns his hands to his lap, covering up the issue.

Only now do you realise that you're a karking idiot. Seriously, why did you have to stare?! Why couldn't you have turned away, blushed, and continued working?

You go to apologise, but Tech beats you to it. "I apologise… It's… It's not intentional-" he sputters.

You let out a soft sigh, and shake your head in an attempt to slap some sense into your dense brain. "Tech," you mumble his name, and after blinking heavily, you look up at him.

Tech, with cheeks so bright that they outshine the suns, fails to make eye contact. He's breathing deeply, and mentally questioning if it's possible for him to run away from his problems, even with a half-finished, wet cast around his thigh.

Instead, Tech defends himself even more, seeing as the first option isn't doable. "I have been attempting to control myself this entire time, but it seems my-"

"-Tech," you call out to him again.

Tech finally meets your gaze, but only for a moment. He can't maintain eye contact, he simply can't, that is, until you state something that has his mind spinning in confusion.

"You're huge."

"P-pardon?" Tech sputters, followed by coughing into the back of his hand. That is not what he was expecting to fall from your lips.

You wave your hands defensively, droplets of plaster falling onto the medical bed. "I mean, it's alright, you can't help it," you sputter. Now, you're the one struggling to maintain eye contact, your mind fogging up, clouded with one simple thought.

"Can't help what?" Tech questions. "My erection? Or my size?"

A timid laugh flows from your lips, "I meant your erection, but both, I guess…"

Tech laughs with you, although it's clear that he's nervous. Whatever this is - intimacy, of some form - is new. You're no stranger to light flirting with your boys, and often receiving it in return, but holy Maker. Tech is rock solid, and there is no denying that you're the cause of it; the evidence is right there!

"Well…" Tech's words fall flat, and after adjusting his goggles, he gears up again. Rather than sit in silence, mutually starstruck over the unit sitting in Tech's pants, Tech decides to ramble as much as humanly possible. "…I have chalked my size up as a side effect from my enhancements. There are multiple documented cases that the standard clones all share the same erection size. I am, however, beyond those standards."

"Wait-" you cut him short with a soft laugh. "-There are documented cases of what?"

Tech lets out a chuckle, and shakes his head in awe that he's having to bring this information to light. "It's no secret that we clones have had intimate relationships, and some partners like to… how should I say it? Discuss their experiences with others on the holonet."

You repeat Tech's motions, softly laughing and shaking your head, amazed over this new information. "You mean, people like to jump on the holonet and discuss which Troopers kriff the best?"

"That is one way of putting it, yes."

"Dank farrik," you laugh. You mean, the information that you've been curious about this entire time, has been on the holonet at your disposal? Idiot! Why didn't you simply search for it?

There's no denying that you're attracted to both your squad, and their regular brothers, and as always, curiosity wanders… At least some beings were smart enough to post their findings on the net, along with… whatever else might be on there. You make a mental note to check it out later!

"What were you doing on those sites?" you question, and decide to start working again, seeing as the plaster is slowly drying on your fingertips.

To your surprise, Tech's emotions remain calm as he mindlessly replies, "I was researching my… ahem, abnormality."

"I see…" you conclude. Curious for more, you take a gamble, and up your flirting game. "Has anybody started a thread for Clone Force 99?" you say with a soft purr, causing Tech's ears to perk up as blush begins to form across his cheeks.

"I…" Tech stutters. "Not that I am aware of, no," he says with a nervous chuckle.

Still with wet plaster on your hands, you put on a cheeky grin as you ask, "we could fill in the blank."

Your name comes stumbling out of Tech's mouth as all the heat in his body rises to his cheeks. "You cannot be serious!" He sweats, refusing to maintain eye contact. Nervous hands fiddle with the hemline of his shirt, wringing the fabric tightly in his bare palms, all whilst still attempting to cover up the topic in the room.

"I am," you say with a shrug. "I mean, I've just about seen yours," you gesture to his erection, hidden behind a thin layer of fabric, yet bold enough to make your imagination dance.

"M-Maker," Tech stutters once more. "Where are those pills?"

You laugh as Tech fumbles about with the pill bottle at his side, sliding another one out into the palm of his hand. He doesn't even bother swigging it down with water, dry swallowing the pill like an absolute mad man. "You do know those pills are to ease your pain, right?" you state whilst wrapping another layer around his leg.

"I am certainly in some form of pain. Although I am unsure of the exact type," he sighs, and finally takes a sip of water, correcting his prior mistake.

Biting back a laugh, you suggest, "painfully hard?"

Tech lets out a long and frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze as his shoulders drop in disappointment. "Hilarious," he sarcastically replies, pinching his brow in annoyance.

With a smirk on your lips, you boldly look down at his erection. "It sure seems like you are," you comment, then continue your focus on applying his cast, nearing the end. "You know, sexual pleasure can help ease the pain, and act as a good distraction," you hint, bringing the fact to light. If Tech wants more, then this is his opportunity to take it.

"As delightful as that sounds, penetration would be near impossible in my current state," he gestures to his leg, as if it couldn't be any more obvious.

"There are things that you can do besides penetration, Tech."

Whilst watching you apply the final layer, Tech moves a hand up, fingertips meeting his chin. His brows are furrowed, a sign that he's in deep thought. "You are correct," he hums, before crossing his arms across his chest. "Although I have to question if partaking in such an act will adjust our friendship, and our status within this squad."

"Only if you want it to," you respond, and begin cleaning up, allowing Tech's new cast to dry. "The way I see it, I'm just helping a friend out."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Tech ponders, shifting into deep thought.

Silence fills the air, and yet, you can practically hear Tech's brain ticking away. He's panning everything together, questioning every minor detail, move, motive. Sure, you are helping him out, but wouldn't this lead to other things? Would either of you catch feelings? Have you already caught feelings?

Tech's eyes flick between the pill bottle, and you. He studies you, letting out a soft hum as you tidy up, putting all your equipment away after washing your hands. "I can feel your gaze on me, Tech," you comment, not bothering to look up from your current task.

"Sorry," Tech exhales. "You do have a valid point. This… sexual favour would indeed assist in relieving my pain, yet I cannot accept such a gesture without reciprocating it."

"Let's say that you owe me one, and I can redeem it whenever I see fit," you suggest. You perch yourself on the edge of the medical bed, your form resting against Tech's undamaged thigh. Gently, you tap your fingertips on his cast, testing to see if the material has dried through. "You're all set. So, what do you say?" you offer with a raised brow.

Tech firmly shakes his head in agreement, "I accept your assistance."

"Great," you purr. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, instantly making the man beneath your palm nervous, and he doesn't bother to hide it. "But what do you want me to do, Tech?" you ask, drumming your fingertips against him.

Licking his lips, Tech's eyes wander down to where your hand is resting, before coming up to meet your alluring gaze. "Perhaps you… could possibly…"

"Spit it out," you tut.

"Just… touch me," Tech finally manages to spit his demands out, all whilst looking like he's about to faint. "Your hand alone will be more than suffice," he adds in an apologetic tone, as if he's embarrassed about what has just slipped from his lips.

Eager to see him burst, you ask, "do you want my mouth too?"

"Oh stars."

Tech, the most calm, calculated, and captivating man that you've ever met, is currently turning into putty beneath your fingertips. You've not even touched him, well, at least not in that way, and he looks like he's about to ejaculate at any moment! Maybe it's the pain relief pills that he's taken, or maybe it's because he has a secret crush on you. The answer, you'll never know. All you can do is work with what you've got - a whimpering mess of a man.

"You don't have to answer that yet. Let's just start with my hand," you answer for him. Tech watches through his thick lenses as the hand on his chest begins to trail south, over his lower ribs, across his soft stomach, and now meeting his hips.

Gently, you rest your hand atop of his erection, and Tech just about moans at the minor contact. "I apologise," he sputters, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

"Don't apologise, I want you to be vocal," you coo. "Well, maybe keep it down a bit, unless you want the others over-hearing?"

Tech shakes his head, then returns his eyes to watching the action. Your strokes are gentle, yet firm, the complete opposite of Tech's rising chest. Is he a virgin? Or has it been a while? Either way, you begin matching his pathetic state once his briefs are adjusted, and Tech's cock is finally free.

"Kriff," you whimper, eyeing up Tech in all his glory. Maker, you weren't expecting such a slender man to be packing so much heat! Sure, it looked rather large when hidden behind his briefs, but now it's here, throbbing in your hand.

You begin pumping his length, slow at first, until finding your rhythm. All the while, Tech is a panting mess, his gaze flicking between your expression, and what's happening between his legs. He all about caves when you slowly trail a blob of spit down onto his tip, lubricating his cock as you continue jerking it.

"This is going to be the death of me," Tech pants. His head rolls back to rest on the headboard, whilst his hands come up to hide his face. He groans into his palms, the odd muscle in his body twitching as pleasure washes through him. When Tech finally does remove his hands from his face, his goggles are on a slight tilt, and surprisingly, he doesn't bother fixing them.

"Oh?" you say with a quirked brow. "I can make things much worse."

"Do enlighten me," Tech suggests, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.

"How about I show you instead?"

All Tech can do is nod eagerly, yet he fails to prepare himself for what's about to come. (Or who's about to come.)

It's an awkward position, but after readjusting yourself to lie on your side, you manage to make do. Tech's eyes widen as you move your mouth closer to his cock, soon introducing your tongue to the tip. He moans your name, followed by a painful wince.

"Stop putting pressure on your thigh," you look up at him, cock in hand. "That defeats the purpose of my assistance."

In hindsight, you should have propped a pillow beneath his ankle, but something was preventing you from thinking rationally!

Tech mumbles a, "sorry," whilst looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what he wants, and who are you to deny it? You continue introducing your tongue to his tip, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the minor contact.

You soon find yourself sucking the tip, your hand working magic on the rest of his shaft. Already, there's an ache in your jaw, and you silently question how you're going to make this fit… No matter, you'll do what you can, and all efforts seem to be highly appreciated by Tech, who is reaching the state of debauchery as every second passes.

Through the chaos of spit and slobber, a tender hand comes out to rest on the back of your head. The other one finds your free hand, and Tech makes an effort to entwining his fingers with yours. You vocalise your appreciation to his gentle gesture by humming, only that causes Tech to stir. The sensation of vibrations running along his cock earns you another series of pathetic whimpers, and you, being the mischievous devil that you are, decide to only make things harder for him.

Slipping his cock from your lips, you continue pumping the shaft whilst your mouth wanders south. You slip one of his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on it. Tech's mind quite literally explodes! The hand on the back of your head grabs a fistful of your hair, although he is careful as to not hurt you. His other hand, however, removes itself from your palm to grip on the edge of the bed, a desperate attempt at steadying himself.

"Easy boy," you coo, before focusing on his other testicle.

"I c-can't…" Tech sputters. "I cannot hold on any longer, please," he whimpers, begging for what?

"Tell me what you need," you instruct.

"T-To finish… inside your mouth, if you'd be s-so kind," Tech blurts out, his thigh muscles twitching with want. So much for helping ease his pain, hm?

Removing your mouth from him, you peer up to meet his gaze. Tech's hair is askew, loose strands hanging forwards against his flushed face. Desperation is clear in his eyes, although it's laced with warmth and admiration. Tech was right, you two aren't just going to be friends after this, and quite honestly, you're fine with that.

"How can I ever deny you?" you flirt, earning a sigh from Tech. That sigh shifts into a moan as you slip your lips over his tip, and work your mouth to its limit.

Your name is on repeat, drifting from Tech's lips like a prayer. In the back of his mind, he's thanking this strange turn of events. If he wasn't in that war chest, then none of this would have happened, and the pain is most definitely worth it.

A few pumps of Tech's shaft, and he loses himself in the warmth of your mouth. Tech has to remove his hand from your hair to bite his knuckles, a poor attempt of silencing his final moans. The Marauder does not have soundproof walls, so you two will need to come up with a story for when you finally decide to enter the medical wing, and regroup with the Batch.

"Thank you," Tech repeats, over and over, panting as if he's just run a marathon. He looks exhausted, yet you're the one doing all the hard work!

After removing your mouth from his tip, you swallow his load, which only causes Tech to fall even deeper into admiration. "How do you feel?" you ask whilst grabbing the glass of water, left forgotten on the workbench besides the medical bed.

"Euphoric," Tech responds without missing a beat. "The pain was worth it," he adds.

"Are you still in pain?" you ask, offering him what's left of the water.

He swiftly responds, "no," before downing the rest. "You seemed to have worked wonders on me," Tech comments.

You let out a soft chuckle, and rise to your feet, eager to get out of the awkward position. After wiping your mouth dry with a towel, you assist in cleaning Tech up, not that he needs it. It's his leg that's fractured, not his cock, but you're too sweet on the poor man. "You need rest," you comment as you tuck his cock away, putting his unit to bed within the confinement of his briefs.

Tech ponders, and only now does he straighten out his wonky goggles. "I have already asked so much of you, but I have one last request."

"Let's hear it?"

"I… require some assistance with getting to my bunk," Tech sheepishly asks, earning a laugh from you.

"Of course I'll help you with that!"

It's quite the task, seeing as Tech has the upper hand when it comes to height, but you manage to help him to his feet, swinging an arm across your neck for extra stability. You turn to leave the medical wing, until something crosses your mind. Gesturing to the pain relief pills, you state, "you'll probably be needing these."

A smug grin creeps over Tech's lips. "Oh, I don't think I will," he flirts. This time, you're the one blushing, yet you agree with his statement.

Hobbling down the Marauder, Tech's cabin soon comes to your reach, and before you know it, you're helping him into bed. Thank the Maker that the others have retired for the night, hopefully none of them heard that!

After removing Tech's shirt, a pillow is placed under his ankle, providing extra comfort throughout the night. You retrieve him a glass of water, re-entering his cabin to see that he's tucked himself under the covers, his goggles lying on the bedside table.

"Do you need anything else?" you offer, soon expecting to be in your own bunk. It has been a long day, and you're oh-so-eager for your own rest.

"Actually, I was thinking…" Tech trails off, which causes you to raise your brow. "Surely you should spend the night here with me? You know, in case I require support throughout the night-"

"-I know what you're hinting at, Tech," you say with a light laugh, shaking your head at him. "You don't need an excuse, but sure, we can use that when the others ask why I'm leaving your cabin tomorrow morning."

Tech chuckles, watching eagerly as you strip down into your underwear, soon joining him in bed. You're greeted by his stretched out arm, offering you a cuddle, which you gladly accept, all whilst keeping his injury in mind.

"Goodnight, Tech," you exhale, resting your hand on his chest as your head finds its place within the curve of his neck.

"Goodnight," Tech repeats, holding you tightly.

"And remember, I owe you…"

#tbbwriting #the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #smut #tbb tech x you #tech x reader #clone trooper tech x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #bad batch #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic

338 notes · View notes

luna-writes-stuff · 7 months

Text

As The World Falls Down, Nikolai Lantsov

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending

Word count: 2650

Tw: IS IT STURMHUND OR STURMHOND BECAUSE IT SOUNDS GERMAN SO I’VE ALWAYS SAID/WRITTEN STURMHUND BUT NOW THE TUMBLR TAGS ARE TELLING ME IT’S STURMHOND (yes I’ve read the books). Unintended infidelity, marriage, slight heartbreaking, Luna is an Alina-defender 4 life. Let me know if I missed any????

Summary: Nikolai’s proposal to Alina was strictly political. It made for a perfect alignment, even if love was lacking. Both parties agreed to this. However, Alina doesn’t know Nikolai is technically already married, though not on his birth name. He didn’t think much of the proposal, but you did. And after days of avoiding him, he finally talks with you, and you have a much-needed heart to heart.

Requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes.”

Sturmhund’s wife. Those were the words echoing around in your head. Sturmhund’s wife. Not Nikolai’s; Sturmhund’s. And the reality of it came crushing down after those awful words left his mouth.

You hadn’t officially married Nikolai. No - your contract stated his pseudonym. This was to ensure no hunters would come after you, trying to sell you for ransom or power. It was a very strategic move. Legally, you were bound to Sturmhund, but it was never something you and Nikolai had any difficulty with. He was Sturmhund after all, and between the two of you, that never stood in the way. It was weird to consider, but after only a couple weeks, you realised that the contract was the only thing that stated otherwise. Truth for you still was that you were married to Nikolai, and that had never been a lie.

Well, that came to stab you in the back after only a year.

“I'll place the sky Within your eyes.”

A reasonable part of your brain told you it was logical - it was smart. Of course Nikolai would propose to Alina. Politically, it made sense. It was a genius move. But the other eighty percent of your brain stenched from the betrayal. Seething fury and pain was buried deep underneath your skin, and no matter how nice and loving Alina had been, you couldn’t escape sneaking glares her way.

You never meant to. She was sweet and kind - she didn’t deserve it. But she was going to marry your husband. And he hadn’t even discussed it with you. That might have been the most painful about the entire ordeal: he never asked you.

It was never brought up in conversation, nor had he hinted towards it. It made you begin to wonder how long he had planned this out. And if he ever was going to tell you or ask you before proposing. Years spent with Nikolai before your marriage should have told you he would never do this out of love, but it felt like rubbing salt in a wound.

You hadn’t spoken to him in three days. In truth, you hadn’t seen him in three days. It might have been pettiness, but you were frightened you might do something stupid when you saw him again. So, you tried your very best to avoid him for as long as you could.

“There’s such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast. In search of new dreams A love that will last Within your heart.

Unfortunately, Nikolai wasn’t stupid. He knew you were avoiding him. He also knew exactly why. Then, every single time he tried to find you, something came in between. It was late at night, when he finally felt enough was enough. He had laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling endlessly. Sleep hadn’t come easy to him these last few days. You weren’t even showing up in your shared room anymore. Your pillow had gotten uncomfortably cold, and the clothes in your shared closet hadn’t moved since he made his decision.

Sitting up straight, he ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance to the empty spot beside him. Then, he stood up, hastily pulling on his robe as he left the room. Everyone had gone to sleep already, and the last people in the halls were either half asleep or keeping a watchful eye. A brief nod of recognition was given his way as Nikolai walked through the chilling halls.

He had no idea where to even start looking. You wouldn’t be in the most obvious spots; he knew you better than that. Tolya and Tamar had refused to tell him anything, even though he was sure they knew something. Their attitude towards him had changed slightly after his exchange with Alina, and he was sure they didn’t agree either. He didn’t mention it. He knew they’d shout at him, and he had enough on his shoulders as it was.

“I'll place the moon Within your heart.”

At night, Tamar would visit you, sometimes going with you to get some food in the late hours of the night. It was the only moment you could be given any peace. Right now, though, you had been alone.

Sitting at the long empty table, you chewed on a sandwich, topped with your favourite condiments. It was the most enjoyment you could get out of your day, and it was best celebrated in silence.

Papers of negotiations and terms were sprawled out across the kitchen, some weapons sitting in the corner of the room, hidden from plain sight. It never surprised you. You knew everyone had to be on their toes. It made it easier for you to focus on other things.

Like this delicious sandwich. “As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone, Wasn't too much fun at all.”

“I might have known,” You heard from the entrance of the dining room, successfully drawing your attention. An unwanted scowl climbed onto your face as you stood up, holding the sandwich in one hand and the plate in another.

“I was just leaving,” You spoke with a full mouth, placing the plate in the sink, before making your way to the doorway. Not giving him another word, you pushed past him. “Wait,” He mumbled, grabbing your shoulder, forcing you to stop. You shrugged it off, turning around to face him. He looked slightly betrayed at the gesture, but composed himself quickly. “Can we not talk?”

“About?” You asked, disinterest in your voice. “Your new wife? She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” “Darling-“ Nikolai tried, but you had already turned around. “Goodnight, your highness.”

So, maybe you wanted to run up to him, sob into his shoulder and voice all your worries. Maybe, internally, that is what you needed most. But the mere sight of him now caused your blood to boil. And you could weep around that thought. Where he had once managed to make your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you, it now caused it to sink in agony. He made an oath to love you and no other. He made a promise. And political or not, it stung.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

You weren’t surprised when his quick feet caught up with you almost immediately, then slowing down to match your pace. You hated that he did that. He always did that. Asshole.

“Listen, I should have discussed this with you,” “Should you?” You interrupted, not halting your movement. “I don’t know. It’s not as if I am your wife or anything.” “Darling, please,” Nikolai pleaded, now grabbing your upper arms and keeping you in place, turning you to face him. “I love you, and only you. You know this.”

You didn’t respond to this, your eyes casting to the floor instead. You couldn’t see the change in Nikolai’s features upon your silence. You didn’t see how his eyebrows furrowed in heartbreak as his eyes reflected the same sadness you had felt this entire time. “You know that I love you, right?” He repeated, his voice now unsure.

The silence that followed was as terrifying to you as it had been to him. He hadn’t meant to make you feel this way. When he proposed, he didn’t think much of it, expecting you wouldn’t think much of it either. But the opposite finally appeared to be true, and now being directly faced with it, Nikolai cursed himself for not seeing it earlier.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold. I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now. We're choosing the path Between the stars.”

“Hey,” He tried, his hands gently falling from your arms as one of his fingers tapped your chin, causing you to redirect your gaze from the floor to his face. “You know I love you, right?”

Your lower lip trembled lightly as you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know anymore, Nikolai.” “Oh, darling,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you as he forced you into his embrace. And finally, after three days, you broke, your eyes breaking its dams as tears began to stream down your face, your shoulders shaking with your sobs.

“There is no one in the world I could ever love other than you,” Nikolai assured, his head resting atop yours as his fingers began to rub soothing patterns on your back. “Please, do not think you are anything less to me than everything.” “Why wouldn’t you ask me?” You sobbed, not looking up at him, instead keeping your head buried in his chest.

“I don’t know,” He answered truthfully. “I didn’t mean much by the proposal. I didn’t think too much of it as anything other than a paper.” He continued, placing a comforting kiss on top of your head. “And because of that, I didn’t think you would make much of it either.” “You were wrong.” You countered, your hands now grasping the back of his robe. “I know that now.” Then, he moved his head, looking down at you. “And I should have asked you before. I see that error.”

“I'll leave my love Between the stars.”

“If you had asked,” You started, your voice unsure. “And I would have said no, would you have still asked her?” A beat of silence echoed, before you felt him shake his head. “I wouldn’t have.”

You raised your head at this, your teary eyes forcing contact with his, seeking his face for any hint of deception. When you couldn’t find any, you sighed heavily. “I want to understand,” you muttered. “But part of me feels so betrayed.” “I know,” Nikolai whispered, one hand making its way to your face, wiping away stray tears. “And I do not blame you for this.”

“Alina is lovely,” you continued. “She doesn’t know we’re married. She doesn’t do this to harm me. Yet, part of me envies her so much. Every time I see her, I just want to punch her in the face.” That got a tiny chuckle out of him. “She doesn’t deserve that, Nikolai.” You scolded. “No, but it’s a little funny.”

“As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all.”

When his laughter died down, he looked at you in sincerity. “I can break it off,” He decided. “Easily. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings. In truth, I do not think she feels anything for me. She is lovesick over Mal.” “Nikolai,” You interrupted him. “As someone who wishes to end this war, I see that this would be a good solution.” He shook his head. “And as my wife?”

When you thought about it for some time, Nikolai filled the silence. “The brutal truth.” He clarified. “Don’t make me feel good about myself.” You shrugged at that, your features falling slightly. “I’d ask for both your hands. Not just one.”

With those words, Nikolai’s hands intertwined with yours, squeezing them affectionately. “Then, you shall have them.” A heavy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, the ominous truth lurking over your shoulders, almost laughing at you menacingly. “The people need an end to all of this.” “There are other ways to solve this war. Other, peaceful ways.” Nikolai countered, pulling you back into his embrace.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

When he didn’t feel you copy his hold, he continued talking. “Marriage was option one. There are a hundred others.” “You could have started with these.” You mumbled, wiping the final few tears off your face. “Well, this one was the easiest,” Nikolai explained. “But I think that keeping my one true wife is worth the struggle.”

The lump in your throat began to slowly vanish at those words, anxiety still there, although less severe. As if he sensed it, Nikolai broke his hold on you. “Come morning, I’ll talk to Alina. You have my word.” Your hand shot to your arm as you rubbed it, trying to distract yourself. “I think it’s just the looming threat of the darkling.”

Cocking his head from side to side, the prince agreed with you. “It is terrifying.” “What if we cannot win this?” You questioned, doubt heavy on your mind. You knew it was on Nikolai’s too, but he had always been better at hiding it. Royal training tends to do that to you. “For the first time in years, we have a chance,” he assured. “And if not, I’ll die protecting that which I love.” You raised your eyebrows at this, already knowing what was coming, but you gave him the chance to say it out loud: “That’s you.”

Finally, a small smile climbed onto your face. “Sap.” “You married me for it.”

“As the world falls down Falling in love. As the world falls down.”

The late hour had started to dawn on you, exhaustion slipping back into your features. You were too tired to think more of the war, and make the issue bigger than it was. You spoke with Nikolai, which hadn’t been on your list of things to immediately get to. Be that as it may, it brought enough relief, and you found yourself slightly grateful for him stalking the halls late at night.

“Promise to not propose to anyone ever again?” You asked, trying to leave the matter for what it was. “Not ever after I asked you?” Nikolai retorted in a joking manner. You didn’t laugh at this. “That was a joke.” He clarified.

“It wasn’t funny.” “I know,” He quickly corrected himself, wiping the smile off his face, sincerity shown once again. “That was too soon.” You nodded at him, but leaned into his side, offering him some form of assurance.

“Makes no sense at all. Makes no sense to fall. As the world falls down Falling in love.”

“Come back to bed, my love. I haven’t slept well in days.” He muttered, an arm wrapping around your figure as he held you against him. “Neither have I.” You confessed, which caused him to look at you in slight confusion. “Truly?” When you nodded at him, he nodded his head, seemingly lost in thought. “Well, you wouldn’t say. You still look absolutely breathtaking.” You couldn’t suppress the heat rising to your face at his words, your heart skipping a beat.

When he didn’t speak after that, you took it as your queue to fill it. “I’m sorry.” You voiced. Furrowing his eyebrows, Nikolai squeezed your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologise for,” His feet began to walk through the halls, dragging you with him as he made sure to match your pace. “You were completely in the right to question my decisions and feel hurt because of it. My mistake was thinking that my reason for actions would be interpreted the same for everyone.” He cleared his throat as he thought over his own actions of the past few weeks with regret. “Clearly, that is not the case, and I know that now.”

The second smile of the night climbed upon your face as you looked up at him. “Are you apologising to me now?” “Shh,” He shushed you quickly. “Don’t tell the others.” You shook your head, nudging his side slightly. A content grin spread on Nikolai’s face as he looked down at you. “I love you, darling.” He shared. “Will you say it back?”

Giving him one fake-hesitant look, you gave him a joking nod. “I love you too.” His free hand grasped yours, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a light kiss on top of it.

“Thank you.”

“As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

#november writings 2023 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #Nikolai lantsov #sturmhond #nikolai lantsov x reader #patrick gibson

165 notes · View notes

hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 7

AO3

Summary: As they continue their stay at Coombe House, Rosie and Frankie find themselves ever more drawn to one another

Warnings: Language, mild injury description (blood), tension that makes me want to rip my own eyes out??? i think that counts

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

The chirp of crickets filled the air, a warm afternoon breeze blowing the grass this way and that as the Riveters played in the river, laughing and shouting as they splashed one another from the comfort of their rowing boats beneath the glow of the midday sun. People had warned Rosie about the temperamental British weather before he'd left Brooklyn, but it seemed the heavens had made an exception for their trip. Considerate, really.

Frankie had laid out a picnic blanket on the grassy slope overlooking the water, a half-eaten packet of crackers and a battered copy of The Young Visiters lying in her wake, the book so well-worn that its cover was halfway hanging off. The only problem was that Frankie herself was nowhere to be found, and Rosie sat quietly beside her blanket like a dog awaiting its master, thumbing the corner of his book, unable to finish a whole page without looking around for any sign of her.

The sound of footsteps muffled by the soft ground caught his attention, craning his neck to watch her bounding up behind him. She was wearing a stark red blouse and a pair of shorts that ended just above the knee, and for a moment he had to stop himself from staring at her legs as Frankie crouched beside him. Letting out a grunt, she tucked her feet beneath her as she sat down, holding out the teacup she had been carrying. "Here. Drink this."

It didn't even occur to Rosie to question her demand until he had upturned the cup, a foul, acrid taste stinging his tongue. Swiftly spitting whatever the disgusting liquid was back into its cup, he spluttered in revulsion. "What in God's name is that?!"

Frankie guffawed, a pink flush tinting her cheeks. "Pappy got distracted and accidentally poured his juice and his coffee into the same cup."

"So naturally you had to bring it straight out here to make me drink it?"

"Of course," She nodded as if it were obvious, rolling over to lie on her stomach, feet crossed over and swinging back and forth in the air. "In my defence, I'm only here so that I'll feel better, and that did work."

Rosie couldn't help but smirk, even in spite of the bitter taste that coated his tongue. Pilfering one of her crackers, he turned back to his book, shaking his head in silent, teasing disapproval. He assumed she had taken up reading herself, but instead, she began letting out a low, tutting sound, shaking her head. "Fuckin' horse riding?"

Putting down his book once again, he frowned down at her. "I thought you liked it here - are you still complaining about 'rich people hobbies'?" He raised a hand in quotation, mimicking her own words.

"I just don't get it," She continued to shake her head, watching the riders with narrowed eyes. "I mean - buy a bike? Cheaper. Don't have to feed it. Bikes also don't shit all over the place - I almost stepped in some on my way over here." The distaste was thick in her tone, and he couldn't help but smile, even as he scoffed in disbelief.

"You're so biased."

"I just don't think you have to spend obscene amounts of money to have a good time - if anything, I'm frugal."

"I can see that - you've read that book half to death, the poor thing."

"I think it's funny. At least I don't read depressing books about poor people dying like you," Frankie chuckled, jabbing a finger at his copy of Of Mice and Men. "Not exactly therapeutic."

"She's so judgy!" Rosie declared, lying backwards in the grass beside her blanket so that they could actually see each other's faces. A grin was plastered across his face, stuck still as he looked up at her - at the way the corners of her eyes creased when she laughed, and how her smile was always ever-so-slightly lopsided. She stared back at him, a twinkle in her eyes as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Hi," Frankie spoke sweetly.

"Hello."

It was silent for a long moment, their eyes locked, gentle smiles creasing their cheeks. Rosie felt the sudden urge to lean in.

"Hey, Frankie!" Bailey's voice rang from down in the river. He raised his head to look down the hill to the water, where Pappy was whispering something too quiet for him to hear, seemingly telling off the younger pilot for his interruption.

Frankie missed this part, too busy scrambling to her feet so she could descend the slope, anxious to hear what Bailey had to say. Rosie sighed, his head lolling back into the grass. Sometimes he was glad he was such a peaceful man, otherwise he swore he could've wrung Bailey's neck.

"Yeah, what's up?" She asked as she reached the edge of the water, the breeze blowing her hair out of place. Bailey paddled closer, ignoring Pappy's glare as he muttered his response to a conversation she hadn't heard the rest of.

"What? I'm allowed - he doesn't get a monopoly just because he fancies her," The man frowned, looking up at her with a smile as he approached. "Tennis rematch this afternoon?"

Frankie pushed his first statement out of her mind with a shrug. "Absolutely. Prepare to be destroyed," She grinned, shaking hands on the deal.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bailey and Frankie were both equally dreadful at tennis. His serves barely ever made it across the net, and she frequently tripped on her own feet whilst scrambling to return the ones that did. They spent most of their matches yelling at each other in frustration, and the staff at Coombe House frequently had to tell them off for disturbing the other residents. But the pair were determined to get a single good game in before the end of their stay.

They'd been going for an hour. They had made no more than four successful passes in all that time, and at some point Frankie had skidded on her knee, grazing the skin and leaving a thin rivulet of blood running down her shin. "Fuck!" She yelled, just clipping the ball with the edge of her racket as it zipped past her, hitting the fence with a thud.

"You sure you wanna keep going?" Bailey called from across the court, eyeing the wound on her leg as she scrounged for the ball, which had rolled under a nearby hedge.

"I don't wanna stop until we get a proper back-and-forth going," She shook her head, wiping dirt off of the ball onto her shorts as she poised for another serve.

Rosie wandered the path past the tennis courts, his footsteps crunching against the gravel, altogether too distracted as he neared the end of his book to notice the chatter rising over the hedge before a familiar voice let out a whoop. Using his thumb to mark the page, he descended the stone steps leading down to the courts, spying the pair on the furthest of the three, tucked out of the way of the other players. They had finally gotten a rhythm going, letting out wordless exclamations of joy whenever they managed to successfully bat the ball back across the net, laughter mingling with the incessant sound of rackets colliding with the ball.

"Hey, you got it!" He cried, teeth bared in a grin.

"SHUT UP!" The pair yelled simultaneously, desperate not to break their concentration. Rosie chuckled, his smile fading slightly as he noticed Frankie's injury, the top layer of skin on her right knee now a bright patch of red, blooming with blood as it pooled in droplets on the surface.

"Gotta keep it up Rosie, I'm winning!" Bailey declared gleefully, sending the ball spinning back towards Frankie, narrowly missing the net.

"You're winning?" She cried, diving forward to return it, almost losing her balance but managing to clear the net. "Are you fucking blind?!"

"Hey, Frank, are you ok?" Rosie called, thumbing the corner of his book. Another line of blood had begun to seep down past her kneecap.

"It's nothing," Frankie sent the ball spinning towards Bailey, but he was just too slow, and it soared past his head into the shrubs. She let out a shriek, racket held above her head in victory. "See! I win!"

"Alright, alright," Bailey shook his head in defeat, crouching down to rummage for the lost ball. "Just go clean yourself up, it's distracting."

"Thank you," Rosie agreed with a nod. She held her racket out to him as he approached, and he accepted it without a second thought, only realising after a moment that he had no idea what to do with it. But by then Frankie was already at the top of the steps, peering down at her bloody knee. "C'mon, let's go in," He said as he caught up, discarding the racket upon a nearby bench, his palm skimming across her back as he guided her towards the house.

As nasty as the graze appeared, Frankie appeared completely unphased, a testament to the roughhousing games she had played as a girl. They made their way through the halls of Coombe House, the staff shooting her a few sideways glances, largely in fear of having to clean any blood out of the antique rugs. He followed her up the main staircase and through to their corridor, making a beeline for the shared bathroom at the end of the hall.

Frankie entered without a word, perching herself on the edge of the porcelain bathtub and hiking up her leg, leaving a muddy footprint on the clean, white rim as she attempted to pull out a few tiny stones with her fingers.

"Stop it!" Rosie seized her wrist, wrenching her hand away and shooting her a confounded look as he crossed towards the sink to wash his hands.

"I can do it," She whined, throwing up her hands.

"Not after trying that shit - you're banned from trying," He shook his head, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Frankie almost snorted with laughter at how serious he was taking their present situation. Rosie took a moment of silent consideration before leaving the room in search of a first aid kid, and she let out a long sigh, tapping her foot impatiently against the polished wood floor.

By the time he returned, there was a white towel crumpled on the floor, stained scarlet by the blood she had wiped away with it. "Who raised you?" He scoffed, crouching down on the floor in front of her, tossing the stained towel aside.

"Speaking of, you should meet my dad," Frankie grinned, kicking off her dirty shoe and placing her foot in his lap as instructed. "You'd like him."

Rosie began to disinfect the wound, carefully removing the debris, and she fought the urge to wince at the stinging sensation. "I'm sure I would, he raised you," The words came forth faster than he could process them, and for a moment he paused, one hand hovering above her injury, the other gripping the bare skin of her calf to keep her from moving. Their position wasn't compromising per se, but it wasn't exactly proper either. Nevertheless, the sudden thought of someone intruding on them made him squirm, and he got up to lock the bathroom door without a word.

Frankie's brow raised at this, the sudden, deliberate movement raising all sorts of questions. "God, this is taking an interesting turn," She blurted, internally cringing at the type of subtly-suggestive jokes the boys she used to work with in the garage liked to make.

He turned back to look at her. "... Were you just flirting with me?"

"I think so, yes."

Rosie frowned, considering this very seriously as she searched his expression for some indication of how he felt. "... Hm." Without another word, he resumed his place in front of her, beginning to dress her knee.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Frankie was almost irritated, but she could feel the sweat clamming his palms as they touched her bare skin and suddenly he wasn't as calm as he seemed. She fought to hide her smirk as he finished dressing the graze, nodding in satisfaction at his work. "There." His voice was quieter than usual, unsteady.

"Thanks," She spoke hurriedly, her perch on the edge of the bathtub becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Pushing herself up to stand, Frankie bent down to grab the blood-stained towel off of the floor. "Oh, I'll clean that before it stains-"

"No, that's ok, I can do it," Rosie assured her, seizing its other side. Neither of them was quite looking the other in the eye.

"You sure? I mean, it's my mess, I really don't mind-"

"I'm sure."

Frankie nodded slowly, letting her grip on the towel slip away. "Alright then," She turned to the door, unlocking it with a click, and by the time Rosie looked back to where she had been, she was gone. His heart had been thumping in his chest, too fast for comfort, and only once he was alone could he heave in a long, steady breath to slow it down. Glancing down at the floor, he chuckled.

She had forgotten her shoe.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Steam filled the bathroom, rising to the ceiling and coating the windows in a film of grey as Rosie sank beneath the hot water, revelling in the feeling as it covered him completely, the feeling of warmth seeping through his skin as if it wished to take rest within his very bones. He splashed a handful across his face, blinking away the droplets on his eyelashes as he let out a sigh, leaning back against the side of the tub.

Frankie had spent almost all of last night's dinner talking about her tennis match with Bailey, hardly sparing him a second glance. He knew he shouldn't have taken issue with it - she was friends with all of the flight crew by now - but he found himself staring, as if waiting desperately for her to meet his eye. He hadn't seen her at breakfast at all. She deserved the lie in - that's what he told himself. But it was becoming increasingly impossible for Rosie to think about anything else.

The bathroom door swung swiftly open and shut, and he slid downwards until the water reached his chin, desperately trying to cover the most indecent parts of himself. He could've sworn he'd locked that door. It was almost midday, but Frankie was still in her pyjamas, brow furrowed as she read the newspaper she was holding in one hand, a glass of orange juice and a cigarette steadily burning away in the other. By the look of her, she hadn't realised he was there at all, taking a seat upon the closed toilet lid as she used the light of the windows to read by.

“Morning,” She spoke nonchalantly, such a calm acknowledgement of his naked presence that it was almost more jarring than the intrusion itself. For a moment Rosie could do nothing but gape, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish as he searched for something to say.

"... Do you mind?"

Her gaze flitted away from the newspaper and met his eyes for a moment. He shrank farther below the surface of the water, praying to God she couldn't see anything below the rim of the tub. Her expression showed no recognition of what he was referring to. After a moment of silence, Frankie shrugged. “Nothing I haven't seen before.”

“It's everything you haven't seen before!” Rosie cried, almost bolting upwards again before remembering what was happening.

"No, but like. In general," She was peering back down at her newspaper, finishing off her juice. Her cigarette was almost entirely burnt out, but she took one last puff before tossing it into the empty glass as if it were an ashtray.

He blinked slowly. "Frankie. Why are you here."

"Sun's on this side of the house," Frankie replied as if it were a normal answer to give - as if her room didn't have electric lighting, as if she weren't sitting a mere ten feet away from his nakedness. Even in a bathroom as huge as this one, it was making him nervous. She seemed to be able to sense it. "D'you want me to leave?"

"Yes. I think so."

She nodded, standing up to go, her eyes still locked on the paper as she made for the door. Before he even knew what he was saying, he spoke. "Wait."

Frankie looked up, smiling slightly at the way his head peeked over the edge of the bathtub, his cheeks flushed bright red. "You don't have to... if you don't want to. I mean, as long as you're not lookin'-"

"I didn't come in here with the intention of staring at your arse, Captain," She shook her head, chuckling as she returned to her perch.

"Why did you?"

"I told you. Good lighting."

He shook his head. It sounded like bullshit to him. But if it was the story she was sticking with, Rosie wasn't going to keep prying. "Just throw me a towel, will ya?" He shook his head, reaching an arm out to catch it as she tossed one across the room from where they had been stacked beside the radiator.

Frankie kept her word, turning her back as he rose out of the still-warm water, wrapping the towel around his waist as a single, wet curl dangled in front of his face.

"Uh. Frankie?"

"Hm?"

"You're sitting next to my clothes."

He'd left them folded in a pile on the floor where they couldn't get wet, which just so happened to now be right next to her feet. She bent down, snatching the pile and holding it out to him, her gaze still purposely fixed on her reading. But as he reached out to take it, his belt slid from atop his shirt, landing on the floor with a clatter.

"Shit," Frankie muttered, and the pair moved to retrieve it simultaneously. She caught a glimpse of him and for a moment she froze, her face heating up and turning a fierce red. "Uh, no, this is weird, I'm just gonna... go."

Leaping to her feet, she began hurriedly making to leave, gaze fixed on the door handle to prevent it from wandering anywhere near him. Rosie nodded hurriedly, attempting to shrug on his shirt whilst still holding up the towel with one hand. "I'm sorry," He blurted, although what he was apologising for he couldn't quite say.

The moment he spoke, she turned on her heel, tossing her newspaper onto the floor. She'd been back and forth across that room so many times she was starting to feel dizzy. Or maybe it wasn't that. Her heart was beating too fast for her body, and she let out a huff of air as she crossed the room towards him, taking his damp face in her hands. Rosie's chest rose and fell over and over as he stared back at her, their noses almost touching from the closeness.

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen eyes so... blue.

His breath hitched in his throat as she tilted her head upwards, their lips in line with one another's. He'd barely have to move to kiss her now, warm breath fanning his cheek.

A knock came at the door, and Frankie pulled away so fast it was as if she'd been electrocuted, unable to breathe as she waited for whoever was outside to speak.

"Sergeant Bevan?" The voice of one of the staff members came, a warm, American lilt to her greeting. "There's a call for you downstairs."

She swallowed hard, her throat so dry it hurt. "I'll be there in a sec," Frankie called in return, her words shaky. Pausing for a moment, entirely unmoving, she broke the stillness with a firm nod, reaching for her stuff as she stepped towards the door.

"Frankie, wait," Rosie whispered, moving to follow, careful not to speak loud enough for the woman outside to hear. "Just wait a sec, can we-"

"I need to go," She met his eyes, and for a moment he was drowning in the sheer indecipherable nature of her expression. Her thoughts had always been a mystery to him, and now was no different.

He stepped behind the door as she opened it, obscuring himself from the view of anyone outside, fighting the urge to reach out to her as she left. The door closed behind her with a gentle click, and then he was alone, the room feeling suddenly twice as large and empty as it had before. Rosie let out a deep breath, pressing his forehead against the wood with a faint thud.

"... Dammit."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #mota oc #mota fic #frankie x rosie #oc: frankie #pappy lewis #charles bailey #fic | i'm your man

88 notes · View notes

maelstrom-of-emotions · 2 months

Note

Could you recommend some SasuNaru fics?

SASUNARU FIC RECS

Alright, so here's a collection of some of my favorite, re-read worthy SasuNaru fics of all time. The list is bound to expand, but for now, we have these gems.

i'll let it grow wild in my veins by thunderpoint

Summary:

“That’s good, right?” He feels somewhat out of his mind. It's a rush he's not used to, something he doesn't particularly like, and it leaves him wondering if this is what he should have felt when this whole thing first started. “When your future brother-in-law says shit like that it means that he approves of you, right? Fuck, I’m getting married to Uchiha Itachi’s little brother, Shika. What the fuck-” Shikamaru’s face twists, “Naruto-” The kitchen door bursts open, and Temari steps into the living room, gaping at them both. “Naruto’s getting married?"

Status: Currently Ongoing, 11/?

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn.

Thoughts: One of the best arranged marriage fics ever, the writing is amazing and out of this world, and if you haven't read this masterpiece what are you even doing with your life?

(You can also find the author on tumblr @thunder-point.)

2. everybody knows that you cradle the sun by Lyxxie

Summary:

“Y’know—before mom passed—she used to tell me about my dad. She'd tell me the kind of person you wanted to end up with, someone you kept around. She'd tell me about opposites, about calming the other one down and bringing them back up, about how they'd do the same for you. She'd say that you wanted someone who remembered things about you, not just the big stuff. Mundane shit that doesn't need to be remembered, but they do anyway. She'd say 'keep those who chronicle your life because it's theirs, too'." OR: Naruto challenges Sasuke to a game of “who knows the other person better.” Sasuke panics when he realizes that he might be the winner because what in the actual fuck does that mean? He doesn’t know. Naruto tells him.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Roomates, College/University. Humor. Domestic. Explicit Sexual Content.

Thoughts: A fic I would sell my soul for. You haven't lived if you haven't read this fic.

3. Waiting for an Answer by KinomiAkai

Summary:

After eight years of struggling, Naruto finally caves and confesses to Sasuke. But it's okay; nothing is going to change between them. Everything will be the same. ...The moment Sasuke stops bringing it up every twenty seconds, it'll be the same.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Roomates. Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love.

Thoughts: Sasuke is an Asshole and I am here for it.

(You can find them on tumblr @kinomiakai)

4. It's All In The Kiss (And Bondage) by Dhampir (Dhampire)

Summary:

Sasuke never looked at Naruto as anything more than an annoyance like all his other peers, but a kiss, and a little bondage, is about to change all that. Reddit Crack Fic Idea: After getting kissed in the academy and then attacked and tied up by Naruto, Sasuke realizes he has followed all the steps of the traditional Uchiha ninja courtship(An old process inspired by the kidnapping of a rival clan kunoichi). Sasuke feels really touched and starts acting like a Yandere, being really nice to Naruto in his withdrawn way and getting really mad whenever someone says something bad about Naruto.

Tags: Accidental Engagements, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Humor. Tsundere to Yandere.

Status: Completed, 11/11

Thoughts: Anything by this author is an absolute masterpiece, so do check out their other works! They manage to perfectly balance humor and fluff!

5. you and me, that's my whole world by cloudyheaven

Summary:

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine this bad, you could’ve just said so,” Naruto said. The cheeky grin he was giving him made Sasuke want to kiss him again just to wipe it off his face. However, he wasn’t one to waste a good opportunity. “That’s exactly what I want,” he said, matter-of-factly. The grin fell off Naruto’s face. “Shit, are you serious?” The one where Naruto and Sasuke have been in an unofficial friends-with-benefits arrangement for months, completely unaware of their feelings for each other.

Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Jealous Uchiha Sasuke, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentines Day, Love Confessions.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: A perfect fluffy fic for grey days. Always makes me smile whenever I read it.

6. wear my heart on your sleeve by cloudyheaven

Summary:

Sasuke coughed into his hand and simply looked down at his ass. Naruto followed his gaze and found another uchiwa sown on his left buttcheek. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” he said. “Wait, is this why people have been looking at my ass so much lately?!” He turned to look at his boyfriend again. “Is this why you have been staring at it more than normal?!” Sasuke simply avoided his gaze again. “Not like I need an excuse to look at your ass.” Or, how possessive boyfriend Uchiha Sasuke found a way to mark Naruto and make it sociably acceptable.

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Chapter 699, Fluff and Humor, Fluff Without Plot, Soft Uchiha Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Perfectly balanced fluff and humor fic by the godsend cloudyheaven.

7. all the small wild things by GreatLoversLieInHell

Summary:

Naruto doesn't like to be touched. Sasuke asks him why. (To be loved is to be changed)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Child Abuse, Touch-Starved Naruto.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: A fic that makes my soul ache. The author is simply amazing.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @greatloverslieinhell)

8. the vines that grow by GreatLoversLieInHell

Summary:

After getting discharged from the hospital, Naruto returns to a home that’s no longer standing. Sasuke, who doesn’t do well in cages, flees the first chance he gets. Unmoored, unsettled, Naruto looks to his motherland for answers. Uzushio calls her son home. The road to Uzushiogakure is long, but Sasuke walks it with him. Sasuke, who looks at him, hungry. Sasuke, who sees him, wherever the light gets in.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-War, Uzumaki Naruto-Centric, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst With Happy Ending, Uzushiogakure | Hidden Eddy Village.

Status: Completed, 14/14.

Thoughts: I shall create a shrine for this fic one day, for the adoration is not nearly enough as it deserves.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @greatloverslieinhell)

9. A Thousand Summers More by bluelikeskies

Summary:

Sasuke has seen a million sunrises, a thousand summers, but he has never seen anything like the way Naruto smiles at him, brighter than all those sunrises and summers combined.

Tags: Pining Sasuke, Soft, Prose, Mythical Beings and Creatures.

Status: Complete, 1/1.

Thoughts: Beautiful. Simply and utterly beautiful.

10. syzygy by glassedplanets

Summary:

In which Sasuke comes home, an errand needs to be run, several people tell him things, and he realizes just what home really is, for him.

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Reunions, Homecoming, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 6/6.

Thoughts: Ethereal, I adore the writing style of this author.

11. kiss me (under the moonlight glow) by ashmes

Summary:

“You count what happened in the Academy as a kiss?” Naruto’s gaze snaps towards him so quick when he asks, “You don’t?”

Tags: Post-Canon, Post-War, Post Chapter 699, Soft.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I would sacrifice anything for this fanfic. It is utterly amazing.

(You can also find them on tumblr at @sapphicvevo.)

12. Let me help you (this time) by Here_to_procrastinate

Summary:

Sasuke really kind of loves his boyfriend and wishes the idiot would start looking after himself at least a little bit. ~ After the war Naruto can't stop helping everybody and is slowely but surely running himself into the ground. With a bit of help from others Sasuke tries to finally be what Naruto needs.

Tags: Whipped Sasuke, Jealous Sasuke, Everybody Loves Naruto, Fluff, Humor, A Bit of Angst, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Protective Shikamaru & Sakura.

Status: 1/1, Complete.

Thoughts: Perfect feel good fic.

13. Overcoming Distance by Athqh16

Summary:

It starts with a bento box. Black with a white cover and a red strap to keep it together. There was nothing actually pernicious about it except for the fact that the person who'd suddenly placed it in the middle of Naruto's lonely cafeteria table was his one and only rival, Sasuke motherfucking Uchiha

Status: 7/7, Completed.

Tags: Modern Au, Angst, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Friends To Lovers.

Thoughts: An absolute classic, I adore this!

(You can also find the author on tumblr @atqh16)

14. homeward by mnee

Summary:

Sasuke returns to Konoha. Or, more accurately, to Naruto.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Chapter 699, Soft, Boys in Love.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Utterly divine, it's so soft I want to cry.

15. a public display of affection by fiveandnocents

Summary:

In the three hours since their arrival, Gaara has stumbled across them kissing no less than seven times. Considering that they are all ninja, he is very aware that this is no coincidence. Or, five times Naruto and Sasuke get caught (plus the first time no one was around).

Tags: 5+1 Things, Possessive Sasuke, Kissing, Post-Canon, Not Boruto Canon.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This story could not be any more perfect.

16. The Way To A Man's Heart by littledust

Summary:

Sasuke has no idea how to woo Naruto.

Tags: Fluff, Humor.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Perfect fic for a pick-me-up. Makes me smile everytime.

17. the time traveler's husband by blind_io

Summary:

Throughout his life, Naruto travels to different moments in Sasuke’s timeline. It changes them both.

Tags: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe, Inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Brilliant. Simply and utterly brilliant.

18. The sun is too bright, it hurts by waywardfacegarden

Summary:

The first time Sasuke sees Naruto, they are six years old. Sasuke is not stupid, he learns fast, and there are three basic things about Naruto you can know after being five seconds in the same room as him: first, he’s noisy. Second, he talks a lot. Third, he’s annoying. Years later, Sasuke thinks the same, but Naruto is much more than that to him.

Tags: Childhood Friends, Enemies To Friends To Lovers, Everyone is Alive, Modern AU.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: chefs kiss Magnifique. Deserves all the kudos in the world.

19. i want you to want me (i'd love you to love me) by Aethelar

Summary:

Five times Naruto kissed Sasuke and he left, plus one time Sasuke kissed Naruto and stayed.

Tags: 5+1, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This fic is something to live for. It is just so beautiful.

20. Red or Blue? by ReleasedFromHisCage

Summary:

Naruto took over his godfather's store so he could retire and creates a safe space for his regulars and one-time customers alike, mostly his regulars though. Sasuke Uchiha is one of these regulars.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Mild Hurt/Comfort.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: It's everything I've ever wanted in a fic.

21. don't stay away for too long by kintou

Summary:

With Naruto living there Sasuke's apartement has finally turned into a home. So what he doesn't quite get is that Naruto is here, in his pyjama's, telling him he's going to move out.

Tags: Modern Au, Roomates, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Breakfast.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: And they were roommates. Oh my god they were roommates. I am a puddle on the floor. This is simply too precious. It's not good for my heart.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @soft-fics)

22. Killing it by dawnstruck

Summary:

A year after Jiraiya's death, a new Icha Icha volume gets published. Self-declared Number One Fan, Hatake Kakashi, grows suspicious, but keeps buying them anyway.

Tags: Humor, Mid Crack, Mind Angst, Kakashi POV.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: From the summary to the last line this fic had me hooked. Witty and charming and just the best.

23. The Color Of Your Heart by RedRemember

Summary:

The Uchiha were blessed ninjas who possessed demon-like abilities and demon blood. Their race had been wiped out almost to extinction, but a survivor sat in Kakashi’s midst. Kakashi felt apprehensive about training such a child, not wanting to train a bloodthirsty creature how to be a better hunter. & “You’re experiencing your first heat.”, and “You’re an omega.” These were phrases his caretaker kept saying to him. Naruto felt extremely weak, but he understood one thing, and that was he would never be an alpha like Sasuke.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Naruto, Alpha Sasuke, Personal Growth, Blood and Violence, Mating Bond.

Status: Ongoing, 7/12

Thoughts: When I tell you I hit that subscribe button so fast. Simply perfect. All my hopes wrapped into a beautiful fic.

24. Bouquet of hate by FoolishFortuna

Summary:

Sasuke confesses his feelings with an unusual bunch of flowers. Humorous fluff!

Tags: Fluff, Flowers, Humor, Getting Together, Confessions, First Kiss, Sasuke's a Dick but he's adorable.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Hilarious, sweet and amazing - a perfect fic to cheer you up on bad days, sad days or just any day in general.

25. Bare by KinomiAkai

Summary:

He's too bare. Too awake. Too used to the night and too desperate to leave it. Naruto's hand is a lifeline.

Tags: Sasuke POV, Love, Poetic, Romance, Ficlet.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Simply gorgeous, ethereal, beautiful. Short and Sweet. It's perfection to the very T.

26. Just kiss me, you idiot. by yes_iamafrog

Summary:

Ino decided to have the annual New Year's Eve party at her house. Or: Naruto and Sasuke kiss at midnight on January 1st.

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pining, Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff, New Year's Kiss.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: The sweetest way I have ever been destroyed.

27. i love chaos, i love toxic by minttens

Summary:

Sasuke cannot handle the gossip that Naruto is in love with someone, and he makes it his mission to find out who.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Post-War, Jealous Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I'm gonna be honest, I cried. This fic is absolute perfection, someone please build a temple in it's name.

(Also, you need an AO3 account to read this fic!)

28. unforgivable by eloquentstars

Summary:

Lesson one in Dating Uzumaki Naruto 101 is: Never get between a man and his food.

Tags: Fluff Without Plot, Modern Au, Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Sobbing for the tragic ending of Naruto/Pizza, but Sasuke/Naruto are too cute for me to mourn too long.

29. Blue Oceans and Summer Suns by orphan_account

Summary:

“Stop fucking lying to me.” He knows he isn’t, but it’s difficult for him to accept that it’s Naruto’s genuine feelings. “It isn’t a lie,” Naruto insists, leaning in once more to peck his lips as if to prove a point. He’s half on top of Sasuke now, who lays flat on his back staring up at him. “You should see yourself right now. You look as if you’re looking at something worth more than your own life.”

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Sleepy Cuddles, Smitten Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: I’m, like, one hundred percent super duper unbelievably in love with this fic.

30. Inevitablity by Sanauria_Maldhun

Summary:

Naruto's stressed and pining after a man who views him only as a friend. Deciding to get married to Ino isn't the best decision he's made (ever), given that they had been absolutely drunk while making such a declaration, but it's... a decision. Besides, what does he have to lose?

Tags: Background Sakura/Ino, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Angst, Jealous Sasuke, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 4/4.

Thoughts: It's like a cup of coffee/tea that perfectly hits the spot. I love this fic, I've re-read this so many times and it always make me feel. I love Ino & Naruto's friendship.

31. Armistice by surveycorpsjean

Summary:

Sasuke is still here. Or maybe; love hasn't passed them yet.

Tags: Fix-It, Getting Together, Pining, Takes Place Three Years After The Boruto Movie, Where Naruto Gets Divorced and Sasuke never gets married.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Best of the best. Like, the best.

32. speak now or forever hold your peace by frogsterz

Summary:

Will the ceremony be over by the time Sasuke makes it back? Is the news even accurate? Maybe Naruto’s not getting married, he’s getting…carried, somewhere. On a palanquin. Or he’s getting buried. No, that’s worse. (Sasuke is convinced by a passing rumour that the love of his life, Uzumaki Naruto, is about to throw the biggest and most extravagant wedding ceremony in Konoha's history...but he's not the groom. How could such a disaster have happened to him?)

Tags: Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Sasuke Has The Emotional Intelligence of a Wet Loaf of Bread, Post-Canon, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: These idiots, I love 'em to death.

33. symbol of the uchiha by humdrum_hummingbird

Summary:

Sasuke can't sleep, which, even after the war, is pretty typical. Instead, he stays up and watches Naruto sleep, and tonight, like most nights, Naruto is wearing a shirt with the Uchiha fan emblazoned on the back. You can't really blame Sasuke for being a little possessive after everything they've been through.

Tags: Sasuke Returns To Konoha, Possessive Sasuke, Naruto is a Ray of Sunshine, Comfort No Hurt, Soft Fluff, Boys in Love.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This is so soft and gentle and tender I'm crying.

34. Final Destination by chaosxxx

Summary:

“The future is never set in stone. Even the smallest decision can alter its course. One action, be it accidental or intentional, can result in you meeting the love of your life! Or it can leave you alone and miserable… or dead. What I have here in front of you are the cards that show what lies at the end of each broad road.” There's a festival in Konoha, and Sasuke and Sakura visit a fortune telling booth. They just wanted a bad palm reading, not this disturbingly accurate nonsense! (SasuNaru fic. Pre-timeskip. Happy Ending)

Tags: Fortune Telling, Humor, Romance, Happy Ending, Confused Naruto, Pining Sasuke, Flirting, Cute.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Everyone needs this fortune teller. Where can I meet her? Simply amazing and precious. Confused Naruto is just so adorable.

35. You Taste Like Coffee by itadakimasu

Summary:

All Sasuke really wanted was his nightly caffeine fix. How did it turn into this?

Tags: Coffee AU, Barista!Naruto, Confident!Sasuke, Oneshot, Sexual Content, Cute, Fluff.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Perfect, like a good cup of coffee. Kicking my feet giggling throughout the entire thing.

36. Curiosity killed a cat by LydiaClairvoyanne

Summary:

Naruto realizes Sasuke behaves like a cat, and in his last attempt to make friends with the Uchiha, he tries to treat him like he would a scared, lone, traumatized, stray kitten. (I wonder what can go wrong with a plan like this.) (Nothing, the answer is. Nothing, because the plan works.)

Tags: Sasuke Behaves Like A Cat, Naruto Notices This And Treats Him Like One, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Traumatized Boys, Soft Boys.

Status: Completed, 13/13

Thoughts: One of the best fics, it manages to give such a good character study without even trying. I love this fic, I would like to marry it.

37. in his arms by loverofgaydragons

Summary:

Naruto was there the night Sasuke left Konoha.

Tags: Angst, No Happy Ending, Hurt No Comfort.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I sobbed so hard while reading this. It's just so beautiful, it's so beautifully written, it make me choke on sobs, I had to clean my glasses due to the tears, it's amazing. A heartbreak that hurts so good I will let it continue.

38. Time to Smile by hinata22

Summary:

Sasuke is on the verge of leaving the village forever. Naruto has other ideas.

Tags: Boys Kissing, Confession, Happy Ending.

Status: Complete, 1/1

Thoughts: If you thought the last one was sad, here's a happier version. I read this fic back when I didn't have an AO3 account and would desperately keep the tab open as to not lose it. This fic is heartbreaking in it's beauty and lifting in it's sweet moments. A blessing, this fic is a true blessing.

39. The Master Plan of An Uchiha Husband-To-Be by Watermelonsmellinfellon

Summary:

Uchiha Sasuke is determined to marry his new best friend Naruto so he can share his family with the blond boy. He'll be the best husband ever and Naruto won't want for anything ever again!

Tags: Humor, First Crush, Pre-Relationship, No Uchiha Massacre, Fluff.

Status: Complete, 2/2.

Thoughts: Simply adorable, from start to finish.

40. Unrequited: sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't by KizuKatana

Summary:

Naruto hates to hurt people's feelings. So when Hinata puts him on the spot about dating her, he doesn't want to come straight out and tell her he doesn't like her that way. Instead, he comes up with a poorly thought out idea to tell her he is dating someone already. All he needs to do to convince her is to show her a photo of the guy. He just needs to get a picture of someone so ridiculously hot she will know it's hopeless. He actually has someone in mind, a guy he'd had a one-sided thing for from his gym. Although, the guy is sort of an ass and probably wouldn't agree to posing for a picture. Naruto decides to ask him anyway. What's he got to lose?

Tags: Fluff, Unrequited Love Or Is It?, Humor, Cute.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Absolute blast, had a lot of fun reading this!

Aight, that's it for now.

#sasunaru #naruto x sasuke #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x naruto #sasunaru fic recs #SasuNaru #SasuNaru fic recs #ao3 fanfics #ao3 fanfiction #fic recommendation #fic rec #fanfic reccomendation

117 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 9 months

Text

Lace

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Cursing, CW spiders, TW Arachnophobia, TW violence, CW injury, angst, fluff.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

Your pulse thumps loudly against your skin, swallowing a lump in your throat, you bravely make your way towards your friend. That word hangs loosely in the balance, you have no right to get mad at Hobie, he has no obligation towards your feelings whatsoever. Especially that you've never voiced how much you like him, no how much you came to love him.

You've never exactly pinpointed the time or event that made you love your best friend, but you know deep inside that you have. Whether it was platonic before or romantic after a few years of knowing him. You know that you've loved the same man for years. That's why it hurts so much that he's been ogling the unknown woman in his presence. Hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather jacket, he watches her through half lidded eyes, a smile curling around his lips.

The woman's giggle cuts you like a rusty knife, leaving you bleeding and doubting everything. Doubting all the soft touches and lingering gazes from Hobie all those years of hanging out with him. Maybe you are delusional, your lovesick brain making you think and imagine that a man like him could ever love you back.

You hate yourself for being jealous, the big green monster rearing its ugly head. Whispering and gnawing at your shattering heart. Trying to tamp down the ugly thing, cageing it inside your chest like a feral animal, you exhale a shaky breath. Eyes growing glassy at the sticky kiss she leaves on Hobie's cheek. The large Oscorp museum looms behind the stage, casting a large shadow on the couple, as if the building's hiding them from you, mockingly adding to your pain.

Weaving through the crowd, you catch the last bit of their conversation.

"I'll see you at the after party, right, Hobs?" Her voice is sweet yet it sounds like nails on a chalkboard when she calls him 'Hobs'.

"Sure, Lacey," his voice monotone, "go, we're almost on." Hobie nods at her.

'Lacey' winks at him, giving him a flirty smile, waving goodbye. Her long curls bouncing as she walks away.

Hobie notices someone staring, he cranes his neck, squinting, instantly grinning when he spots you. "Oi! There you are! You're late. Nice boots, are they new?"

You clear your throat, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. "Yeah" walking closer to him, you give him enough space. Far enough for him to not be able to hold you.

Hobie notices your downturned gaze, "you okay–"

"You made it!" Yuri appears from behind, bounding towards you for a hug. "Look at our lucky charm! Lookin' pretty as always" she holds you at arms length. Giving her the best smile you could muster.

Ned and James join her side, "nice shoes!" Ned exclaims, bass strapped on his back.

"'ave you been cryin'?" James asks, concerned. He (unfortunately for you) noticed your glassy eyes.

"What?" You chuckle softly "No, I had to run here, the wind whipped at my face" trying to save face.

"You sure it's not allergies? Pollen count is at an all time high today" James adds, nodding.

"You learned that at your da's radio show?" Ned teases. James shoves him.

"I'm fine, it's nothing" you shrug, it's not nothing, your heart feels like it's been run over by a train.

"You sure you're okay?" Hobie finally chides in, closing in the distance you've put out. Intertwining your pinkies together.

To Hobie's dismay, you pull away a second later, "yeah, good luck. I'll be in the crowd" you give the band a double thumbs up, "you guys better win!" Trying to sound cheerful.

"Hell yeah, we will!" James pumps his fist in the air for added effect.

You walk away, trying to get in front of the stage for a better view of the show, pushing past the crowd, some seem to be too out of it to notice you. Spotting the familiar curls, you stop in the middle of the crowd that's packed together like sardines. Lacey laughs with her friends, hyping them up, drinks in hand, singing a familiar song.

The lights turn to a different color, red enveloping the stage. You feel like you're underwater, the loud noises muffled in your ears. You can barely hear the announcer introducing the band, eyes fixated towards Lacey, she throws a flying kiss towards the stage. You don't have to look at who the recipient was.

Guitar riffs ring out, Hobie's band starts playing their song, the crowd suddenly rushes in, trying to get to the front of the stage, trapping you. Bouncing around dancing bodies, you can't get out of the wild crowd, some noticing you trying to get out, they move and part for you. But some are way too into it to notice you.

"Excuse me, please! Fuck!" You yell out. A stray elbow hitting you right on your eye. The smacking sound rings in your ears, hand nursing the injury. A hand flings to your cheek, backhanding you. "Fuck!"

"Oi oi, stop! y/n!" Hobie's voice echoes around the venue, you deduce that he grabbed the mic from Ned. The band stops playing.

Half of the crowd doesn't stop, still jumping and bouncing around, guessing they've probably snuck in liquor. You ping pong around sweaty bodies, The only thing you could do was try to protect your head with your arms. Closing your eyes.

"Hoy! Fuckers! He said stop!" Lacey's voice screams out, trying to push past the mass. You can barely hear her through the blood rushing in your ears.

A strong yet familiar arm wraps around your shoulder, looking up you see Hobie arguing with a stranger.

"What the fuck! I said stop! Were you dropped on your head?!" He shoves the man away. Pointing at another trying to argue back. "Fuck off!" He lets go of you, shoving the other with force.

"Hey mate, if she can't handle it, maybe–" The man slurs his words, he couldn't finish his sentence, his face connecting with your knuckles. He should be glad that it wasn't Hobie's or else he would have his rings embedded in his jaw. The man keels over, sobering him up in an instant, groaning in pain.

Hobie looks at you in shock, you look at the men like you want to rip them apart.

Everything crushes you, the weight and pressure of your project, expectations from your family, your love for him. Every insecurity seeps out of your bones, drowning you in its disgusting waters.

You throw your anger at the first thing you see.

"You fucking wanker!" You seethe, your eyes darken, the strangers bear the brunt of your anger. "Stop means stop motherfucker!"

Hobie holds you back, if he doesn't you'll get kicked out of the event, "holy shit" your fist held up, ready to strike again.

You push him off, eye stinging in pain. Huffing, You give the men one last angry glare before stomping away from the crowd, too angry to care that you have an audience. Hobie follows closely behind, calling your name urgently.

"What?!" You turn sharply, the skin around your injured eye slowly turning into a darker color.

"Are you okay?" He asks, hands ghosting over your closed fists.

"Stop asking me if I'm okay, Hobart! Do I look like I'm fucking okay?!" You yell, frustrated, wincing at the pain in your socket. "Fuck!"

Your heart aches when you fight with him, moreso when you yell at Hobie. You're angry but not at Hobie, you're mad at yourself, mad that you've read his love for you as romantic, angry that you never told him how you feel. Furious at your jealousy.

One word stays in your mind, your own voice screaming it out like bloody murder: Coward.

"Love" he says softly, hands wrapping around your tightly closed fists, your nails digging into your palms leaving half moons on the soft skin. Hobie slowly unclenches your fists for you, fingers opening up yours. "You need ice over that, I'll bring you to the first aid station and–"

"You don't have to, just go. Get back on stage" you pull your hands away from him, clenching your hands into fists again.

"y/n, you might be concussed–" Hobie stares at you, concerned.

"Go" you sniff. "I'll go there myself" turning your back on him, Hobie watches you walk away.

—

The first aid station sits further away from the stage, the loud sounds can still be heard from where you're sitting inside the large tent. Cheers echoes out, prompting you to close your eyes at the booming sound.

The frozen ice pack melts in your hand, condensation dripping down on your arm. Your eye socket stings even with the pain meds the nurse gave you. Your head feels like it's trying to escape your skull. Sitting on the plastic chair, elbows propped on your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek when you hear your friends asking for you.

Scooching away from their line of sight, hiding behind a water cooler, you try to make yourself small. You groan when you hear the nurse tell them your location. Your anger has finally subsided, embarrassment replacing it.

Maybe you should've left when you had the chance.

Feet shuffle their way towards you, staying put, staring at the grey concrete, shoes fill your vision. Yuri breaks the silence.

"You've got a mean right hook, remind me to never piss you off"

You don't answer glaring at their shoelaces. The water from the ice pack drops on the concrete, painting it darker.

"Bloody hell, give her some room" Hobie arrives at your side, gesturing for them to give you space.

Hobie crouches down, leveling with your down turned stare. Grabbing the not so frozen ice pack from your hand carefully, avoiding touching your hand, in case you don't want to be touched. He stares at your black eye with concern.

"I made you all lose didn't I?" You stare up at your friends, avoiding Hobie's brown eyes.

"We got third place, I don't count that as a loss. It's better than we hoped for anyway" Ned looks at you apologetically.

"Right, not your fault." James adds. "Competition's hard, love"

"You're just saying that, if Hobie didn't interrupt by saving me, you would've won"

"If Hobie didn't jump in I would've jumped after you instead" Yuri chides in, pocketing her drumsticks.

"Me too" Ned says.

"Me three" James raises his hand, "Hobie just beat us to it" he shrugs.

"Still, I'm sorry," saying it softly. You don't miss the way they avoided asking you if you're okay.

"You're the one with the black eye" Hobie stands up, "can I talk to you?" He asks.

"We'll see you later, yeah?" Ned places a comforting hand on Hobie's shoulder. "As for you," Ned looks at you, "you've got my number, call me whenever or better yet visit me sometime"

You manage to crack a small smile, "I will" you stand up, giving him a hug, squeezing your friend. "Richmond's only an hour away" letting him go, you give him a sad smile.

"That's right, I'm only an hour away" Ned pats your shoulder.

Yuri steps in, holding both your hands, "and I'm just in Cambridge" she hugs you tightly, "don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I'll come visit you whenever I can then" you squeeze her hands.

"You better" Yuri gives you her rare ten megawatt smile.

"Yuri and I will be classmates so you can visit me too if you want" James pats your back awkwardly.

"Fuck off, no we're not" Yuri scrunches her nose at James.

"We'll see you at the after party, Hobie?" Ned asks the unusually quiet man next to you.

The after party, where she will be waiting for Hobie. You try not to think about it, mentally chastising yourself.

"Nah, I have to get ready for her show."

"That's rescheduled actually, it's happening next week instead of tomorrow" you correct him. Hissing when your skin tugs at your eye.

"We'll be there then if you ever decide to pop in" Yuri informs Hobie.

"Alright, see you" Hobie waves them off. Sitting back down you watch them walk away with sad eyes.

"Can I have my ice pack back?" You groan when the pain pinches your eyelids.

"It's basically water, I'll get you a new one" He moves towards the nurse. You sit there, contemplating the past events.

The green monster peeks back out, shaking its cage, shackles straining against its leg. You try to move away from the image of her hands wrapped around Hobie's necklace that you've given him three birthdays ago, cherry red lipstick sticking to his cheek. The way he looked at her, the fucking pain in your eye. You start seething again, wanting to punch something.

You sigh, palms over your tired face, avoiding your injured eye.

"You al–" he stops himself, walking on eggshells. You don't want him doing that around you. "Here's your ice pack, the nurse said you don't have a concussion so I can take you home. Only if you want to" Hobie hands you the ice pack.

"This seems familiar, huh?" You wince at the cold hitting your skin, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"Can you fucking sit down for a second" you gesture towards a chair.

Hobie sighs, sitting down backwards on the chair, resting his chin over the plastic back of it, arms wrapping around it.

"When we first met? Remember that? It was almost exactly like this"

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Right, you threw that sketchbook at Terry. Yuri's right, you've got a dangerous arm"

"Should've gone into baseball, or volleyball at least" you avoid his stare. "We were sharing an ice pack, while we bad mouth Terrence" chuckling sadly at the memory. You don't regret meeting him that day, if you could do it all over again even after knowing what will happen, you would, without question.

"Will you fucking look at me" Hobie asks softly, you jump slightly at his angry tone. "Can you tell me what's eating you, is it the project?"

You wait a few seconds to bravely look at him, your face unreadable. "It's not the project"

"Is it really rescheduled, or you're just trying to get rid of me?" Hobie narrows his eyes at you. You can't read him, his expression flat, except for the slight scowl.

You shake your head, "Why the fuck am I trying to get rid of you? Mrs. Williams had a change of heart and gave us an extension, that's it!" The conversation escalates, frustrated at Hobie for implying that you're getting rid of him. You would never.

"Then why are you angry?" He doesn't raise his voice, he never does, and he won't ever start to.

"Because! I'm–" you hear a loud cough, the nurse glares at you two. Hobie notices, standing up.

"C'mon let's go inside" He stands up.

"Yeah, because arguing inside a museum is much better"

"You think those fucks care about a museum?" He points towards the concert with his thumb, "I looked inside, no one's in there. They're all going to the after party anyway"

Sighing, you want to go home, but knowing Hobie, he won't relent. You wouldn't dare to go to his place instead, not wanting to taint your future home with a fight. Your dorm is out of the question, it's almost midnight, your RA wouldn't let Hobie in. You don't want to run from this, even if it means lying to his face.

"Give me the bloody card" He asks for the favour card tucked inside your pocket.

"You're gonna use one on this?" You hand it to him.

"Yes" he pops one off, Hobie doesn't want to ruin his relationship with you, especially with him not knowing the cause of your anger. So he's willing to do anything to prevent that. The wind carries the logo somewhere.

You wish you're that piece of paper right now. Only seven to go.

—

Walking around the futuristic room, the walls white and pristine, covered in blue neon lights. It looks like you're in one of Ned's favourite sci-fi movie, you can't quite make out the title though. The entire place is silent, with only a handful of people walking around, the only sounds are from displays, machines whirring in the background, and noises made by the displays' speakers. They opened up the museum really late for the concert as a promotion even though most people only stayed for the show.

You stop in front of a display, a projection of some enhanced spider lifting something that's apparently fifty times heavier than its weight. Sitting down on a bench in front of the display, eyes glued to the presentation.

Hobie sits next to you, giving you space. He watches the projection's glow on the side of your face, making it look like there's a giant spider crawling on your skin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you" you finally break the silence. "I shouldn't have done that, you were only trying to help," eyes still watching the educational video. Taking a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of you?"

"It's nothing" he watches as the enhanced spider bites another spider, fighting with it.

"It's clearly nothing" you scoff, "that's the first thing you thought of when I told you that the show's rescheduled"

Hobie wishes he brought Terry with him, his leg bouncing, a nervous habit of his. "I'm holding you back." He confesses, wincing, regretting it almost immediately.

Your neck snaps to look at him, "You're not, why would you think that?" You sound angry, but your concern for him wins over. "Why?" Tentatively scooching over, you close the distance, cupping his hand in yours. "If anything I'm holding you back, you could've gone anywhere after you left school. Yet you stayed"

Hobie raises his brow at you, scoffing. At first you thought he'll pull away his hand, instead he drops his forehead on your shoulder, fitting right in. He feels the roughness of your denim jacket, squeezing your hand.

The projector's light envelopes you two in emerald green as it switches to a different scene.

"Why do you think I'm still here?" He finally answers after a few seconds. It felt like hours for you.

"Because I'm your best friend" you say softly.

"Best mates don't look at each other like we do" he gathers all his courage, tired of all the pushing and pulling, tired of being selfish, locking his feelings from you. Hobie cranes his neck up to look into your familiar eyes. The same eyes he's longed for. He's so close to you he could see himself in your glassy eyes.

Your heart beats a thousand times per second, Hobie cups your jaw, gaze falling on your slightly parted lips. You hold his wrist, thumb right on his hastening pulse, you cup his jaw with your free hand, hand soft against his slight stubble.

"Best mates don't touch each other like this," he continues.

Your eyes wander around his face, looking for any lies of what he's told you, flabbergasted at his confession. Your breath is seemingly stuck in your throat, heart stuttering when he slowly closes the gap between you.

You don't pull away.

You can feel him tugging at the loose thread, it feels like it's tightening around you instead of breaking you two apart at the seams. The dam has a sizable crack in its foundation, threatening to burst open.

Hobie leans towards your lips, now or never, he sees you flutter your eyes close, taking it as a sign to seal your lips with his. He feels a crawling sensation on his back, ignoring it, thinking it's his nerves acting up. His heart pounds like a drum, he can't back down now.

"Agh! Fuck!" Hobie suddenly screeches, hands flying towards his nape.

"What? What is it?!" You panic, turning him around, yelping when you see a bright spider latched on his neck. "Fuck!"

"What is it?!"

"Spider!" You try to fling it away using your sleeves, avoiding touching the arachnid.

"It fucking bit me!" Hobie slaps his neck in one swift movement, the spider lays dead, still latched on his skin. "Did I get it?"

"Yeah, let me just–" you take a handkerchief from your pocket, taking the spider away from his skin, "there, got it" showing the spider laying on your pink handkerchief. "Oh god it's red"

"You think it's venomous?"

You laugh wholeheartedly for the first time that night.

"I'm serious, I could die from this" Hobie pokes the spider.

Like it's comedic timing, the narrator from the educational video says, "it's not venomous but it is advised to seek professional help when bitten by the wolf spider, some people could be allergic to their bites–"

Staring at each other, "wow" you manage to say at the same time, you giggle nervously, having no idea how to proceed with how things are now.

"It doesn't look like the wolf spider, they're a different color" Hobie pokes the spider to look at its underbelly, "yeah, different one" he acts as if he's suddenly interested in arachnology.

You look at him with so much endearment, your eyes are practically shaped like hearts.

"What?" Hobie catches your staring, a smile playing on his lips.

"Nothin'" you taunt him with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at you but his smile betrays him.

The intercom rings out, "The museum is now closed, sorry for the early closing" a nasally voice says. "There has been an incident in one of our displays, please leave the museum in an orderly fashion"

Hobie clears his throat, hand scratching at his nape, also not knowing what happens now. "I'll take you home," He stands up, offering you his hand.

"Okay" you feel giddy as you take his outstretched hand. It feels familiar yet oh so different now. You've finally got confirmation about his feelings towards you, no matter how vague it was. You two have all the time in the world to discuss it. You've waited this long, you can endure a few more days of tiptoeing around each other. Baby steps, you think.

Swinging your intertwined hands, you look up at him. "Do you think the incident that they're talking about is this spider?" You pat your jeans pocket where the covered spider is kept. "Like it came out of its enclosure or something?"

"They don't have live specimens here, probably not" he entertains your question, squeezing your hand.

You both leave the museum, hand in hand. Ignoring an alarm blaring from somewhere.

—

You hug Hobie's leather jacket tighter around you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, helping numb the pain in your eye. Hobie takes your helmet off for you, the simple action he's done a million times before makes your heart skip a beat. You watch him with curious eyes, waiting for something to happen between you. The large brick building that houses your dorm looms overhead.

You notice him sweating despite the cold, "How do you feel?" You ask, concerned.

"I feel fine" he takes your helmet back towards the compartment of his motorbike. "Why?"

You step over to him, your palm feeling his forehead for a sign of a fever. "You're sweating, it's like fifteen degrees, why are you sweating?" He leans into your touch, sighing a bit.

"It's because I'm bloody fit" Hobie smirks, winking at you playfully.

You roll your eyes, "what if you're actually allergic to that spider bite? We might need to get you to a hospital" pulling back your hand to your side.

"I'm fine, seriously. I have no idea why I'm sweating though" He wipes his moist forehead.

"Okay. I can come with, just to make sure you don't have a weird reaction to it"

"You'll come to the after party?"

"You're still going to that?" Why? She'll be there, you bite your tongue, jealousy gripping you again. He's not going because of that, right?

"Yeah, It'll probably be the last one with the band, I want to make the most of it"

"Okay, just be careful" you wrap your pinky around his, "ask the others for help if you suddenly feel sick, please?"

"I will. Go to bed, you're knackered. Get some ice on that once you wake up, yeah?"

You bravely stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, kissing his skin softly. It feels just right, like your lips were perfectly molded for his cheek. Hobie seems like he ran out of air, frozen into place. He has no idea where to put his hands, your waist seems to be a little suggestive, arms seems to be more on the friendly side, if he grabs the back of your neck, Hobie's afraid he might pull you in for a kiss, which you might not want right now. So he settles for your shoulder, it feels awkward still.

You pull away, seeing a very rare sight of a flustered Hobie. Almost giggling, you clamp down, not wanting to tease him more or he might start hiding this kind of face he's currently making. His pupils are blown out, mouth agape. He returns to his nonchalant expression when he notices you biting your lips to stifle your giggling.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you bat your lashes, "Drive carefully, please?"

Hobie pulls you in by your belt loop, hugging you, his chin rests on the crown of your head, long arms enveloping you. He pokes your scalp with his chin. Your laugh pierces through the dark.

"Yeah, yeah" Pulling away, he carefully grazes his forefinger over to your black eye. "Sorry, 'bout this"

"Not your fault. Thank you for jumping in to save me, even if I yelled at you after" you look at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, again"

He shakes his head, not knowing the exact words to reply to you. Rubbing your leather clad arms, he stops when he reaches your hands. "Keep this for tonight, you can bring it back to me tomorrow, yeah?" Hobie subtly asks you out.

You grin at him asking for you to come visit him the next day. "Mm-hmm, I was gonna visit you anyway. You're due for a fitting"

"Yeah? Finished our baby then?" An excited smile appears on his lips.

"Almost, I think you'll like it" You say smugly.

"You made it, it's a guarantee I'll like it"

—

You adjust the weight of your heavy bag on your shoulder, walking along the water towards Hobie's houseboat. Grinning at the familiar boat, you speed walk to the doors. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, excited to see Hobie again after last night, After his 'confession'.

Hugging his leather jacket around your torso, moving the bag slightly away, just to show him that you didn't forget to bring it with you.

Knocking, you call out to Hobie. "Hey, it's me!"

The boat rocks a bit to the side, tilting your head, curious at what might've caused its movement since the river is calm. Finn is right, you can't hear anything happening inside. The boat tilts again, you hold onto the wall for support.

You knock again, "Hobie! Are you okay in there?"

Hobie finally answers the door, it swings wildly, sweat dripping on his bare chest, still in his boxers, his wicks uncharacteristically standing in messy angles. Gripping the doorknob in an iron hold, his chest heaves up and down like he's run a marathon, or like he just–

Hobie seems like he can't properly construct a proper sentence, he blinks at you through watery eyes, licking his dry lips.

You were about to ask him if he's okay, you freeze in place, face falling when a female voice rings somewhere inside– "Hobs?"

You feel a hole caving in your heart, leaving a Hobie shaped chasm, eyes glistening in the morning sun, you don't even wait for his explanation. You just run, run as fast as your legs could take you. You have no idea where to go. Your heart is shattering with every step, you have no time to pick up the pieces, leaving it scattered in the wind.

You can hear Hobie yelling your name, ignoring his urgent calls, you sprint away.

A/N: Everything will make sense in the next chapter 😉 thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, it encourages me to write more ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

359 notes · View notes

kaylinlmfao · 1 year

Text

Fuck you

Type of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

Type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark

Pairing(s): dom!yandere!ghostface!billy loomis x shy!sarcastic!sub!fem!reader x dom!yandere!ghostface!sidney prescott

Warning(s): non con/rape, dub con, knife play, overstimulation, murder, blood, swearing, violence, mommy kink, daddy kink, dacryphilia, blood kink, dirty talk, nipple play, praise kink, slight public sex, innocence kink, reader goes into sub space, choking, hairpulling, fingering (r receiving), face sitting (sidney receiving), floor sex, hate/angry sex, drugging, ownership kink

Summary: when reader finds out that her best friends are the ones who killed her parents and Tatum & Stu, reader feels more hate towards them than ever. But all they've ever felt is obsessed with her. So they keep her with them forever

A/N: this is my first fic and of course its dark as shit so beware. Give me some much needed feedback and let me know how y'all feel! (I listened to Teddy Bear & Tag You're It by Melanie Martinez for the beginning and Shameless by Camila Cabello during the smut scene. Just if you want, it helps make the story more vivid and lucid)

(Pics from Pinterest)

"Tate? Ready to go?" I yell up the stairs. "You're taking a trillion years Tatum!" "One sec!" She calls back down. "Jesus, Tate! Its just a party, not prom. Sid, come back me up!" "Tate, hurry up." Sidney says without even looking over so used to our arguing. I turn when I hear footsteps thudding down the stairs, Tatum ready to go. "Finally!" I groan, grabbing her hand to pull her out the door, where Dewey has been waiting in the car for like 30 minutes now. "Wait! How do I look, Y/N?" "Gorgeous, as always. Even if you show up in a ratty old house dress, you'd still look gorgeous. So I don't understand why you need an hour to get ready."

Tatum gives me a kiss on the lips as Sid walks over. "Its called preparation, Y/N." Tatum and I weren't dating but we've been best friends since kindergarten. We've kissed as friends since we were 13. Some of her boyfriends had a problem with it, but Stu didn't care. He knew Tatum and I were besties, nothing more. As we walked out the door, I didn't notice Sidney glaring at Tate in anger and jealously while we held hands.

We pulled into the street across from Stu's house as Dewey climbs out and opens the door for Sid. I slide out after her and Tate after me. "Be careful. I'll be over here, talking to Gale and looking around, ok?" "Yeah, ok Dewey boy." Tatum says, dragging me inside where Stu was greeting people at the door. "Y/N! Welcome to my humble castle." "Seriously Stu, don't put any effort into the theatrics." I smile, giving him a side hug as Tate and Sid walks in and I stay with Stu, greeting people as they walk in.

"Hey, Y/N! I'm going to grab a beer, you want one?" Tatum asks. "No, that's alright. Thanks anyways. Be careful." I tell her, turning back to continue my conversation with Stu about the recent kills that have been happening in Woodsboro. About 5 minutes later, Billy pops out of nowhere at the door. "Jesus Christ Billy boy. I'm gonna get you a cow bell or something so you can't sneak up on me anymore." I laugh, smiling and giving him a hug as I go to find Sid and Tate. "Hey Sid, have you seen Tatum anywhere?" "Um, no I haven't. You wanna come upstairs and breathe in peace without any screaming or anything?" "Sure" I say, bounding up the stairs.

I take a nice big deep breath as I flop down onto Stu's parents bed. "Thanks Sid. You always seem to know exactly what I need before I even know I need it." "I know babydoll. Its what I'm here for." I blush ay the nickname and just laugh it off. I can't help but get flustered at how she stands between my legs and looks down at me. No. I'm single and I'm not looking to mingle. I sit up quickly, looking up at Sidney. "Well thanks again Sid. I needed this but I should probably go downstairs, finish the movie, find Tate, y'know?" "Hmm" she nods. As I stand up, I realize she hasn't backed up. We're so close I can feel her everywhere, our lips inches apart. "Well, bye Sidney!" I call, bounding out the door.

So that was weird. I'll just find Tate and finish the movie. "Hey, Randy! Where is everyone?" I question him as I walk into the living room, seeing it empty. "Oh there was this phone call about Principal Himbry has been killed and is hanging from a football post or something." I jump onto the couch next to him. "You think its true?" I ask. "Maybe. I don't really care though. I just wanna finish the movie." "Alright." I nod, standing. "Where ya going?" "To find Tatum or Billy or Sid or Stu. I'll be right back." Randy's head jerks to look at me. "Kidding Rand. Kinda." "Jesus, Y/N." I laugh as I walk up the stairs to see if Tate and Stu are fucking in a room somewhere like they usually are.

I open the door to Stu's bedroom and walk in with my hand covering my eyes, just in case. "Stu? Tatum? Y'all in here." Suddenly, I hear a loud slicing sound and a gargled shout. "Y/N!" I move my hand and see the Ghostface killer in the mask and Sid laying stabbed on the bed. "Oh shit." I say, turning and running as the killer bounds over the bed towards me. "Motherfucker! I'm too young to die! Shit! Ow! Fuck you, you fucking bitch!" I scream as I run around the house, locking door and creating obstacles along the way. "I am way too out of shape for this shit! Can I have a headstart? Bitch! Randy! Stu! Billy! Tatum? Anybody? Fuck!"

I run into a room with a window and I lay the ironing board across the bottom of the door. "Asshole" I say, clamoring out of the window. I feel someone grab my shoulder as they try to pull me back in. "Bitch!" I yell, jumping as I swing my fist back, hitting them in the face. I groan as I roll off of the boat and land on the concrete. I look up at the garage door and scream and choke out a sob as I see my childhood best friend hanging, dead, from the garage door. I stand back up as I run to the news van parked outside. I bang on the door as the camera man, Kenny opens it and I climb in, slamming the door behind me. I look at the cameras set up and I see Ghostface creeping up behind Randy, preparing to stab him.

"Fuck! Move Randy! Move!" "Move kid!" Kenny jumps out of the van to go inside but I notice the front door is open. I watch the footage of the killer running outside, leaving Randy. "Shit! He's-" I'm cut off with a slicing sound as blood spurts from Kenny's neck. I scream and let out a string of curse words as I clamor out the back hole of the news van. I glance around, not seeing the killer but I see Dewey. "Dewey! Randy! He's inside! The killer is gone and I don't know where he went!" I yell, chest heaving, exhausted. "I knew I should've stayed home." The adrenaline is beginning to fade as I see Dewey walk out of the house. "Dewey! Did you-" I see a knife sticking out his back as he calls out, "run!" Before he collapsed. I see the killer standing behind him, pulls the knife out of Dewey's back and starts bolting towards me.

I start running again even though I want to lay down and cry. But I won't. I pick up speed as I think of my parents, who were also killed by Ghostface. I think about my sister, who is at home waiting for me. I think of Sidney, Billy, Tatum, Randy, and Stu. All for the people I love. After a few minutes, I slow to catch my breath and I see the van lights flashing. I wave my hands around and Gale swerves off of the road. What the fuck? I can drive better than that. Oh shit. Randy. He's still in the house. I start running back already on the brink of passing the fuck out. "Oh Randy. You better thank me for this later. I've never run this much except for the time where that big ass dog was chasing me."

I stop up at the porch and grab Dewey's gun out of his pocket, turning the safety off and pointing it as Randy and Billy come out of different directions. "Oh fuck, Y/N. We've gotta get the fuck outta here! I found Tatum and I think Billy killed her." "No I didn't, Y/N! You know me. Baby, give me the gun." He says, shoving Randy out of the way. "Back the fuck up Billy or I swear to God, I will blow your brains all over this front yard. You too Randy." They both start blabbering at once and I can't focus. "Fuck you both!" I say, slamming the door in their faces. They both continue banging on the door. "Go away! Please leave me alone." I shout, sliding down against the door, burying my head in my knees.

"Y/N?" I hear Sid ask before she tumbles down the stairs. "Oh shit. Sid, you're bleeding! Are you ok?" I ask, running over to help her. She hobbles to the door and holds her hand out. "Give me the gun. It's ok Y/N. I'm here now." I pass the gun slowly to her, no hesitation. That was my final mistake of the night. She opens the door and Randy comes flying in. "Holy shit. Billy's gone mad!" "We all go a little mad sometimes." Sidney turns with a smirk on her face as she shoots Randy in the shoulder. "Oh fuck." Randy says before he falls. "Sidney? What the fuck?" I yell, running over to help Randy seeing he's unconscious.

I turn and I start to run away before running straight into Billy's chest. "Billy please, help me!" He just looks down at me before pulling a voice changer and talking into it. "Surprise, Y/N." I look back at Sidney, who looks at me like what are you gonna do? Bitch. This is what the fuck I'm gonna do. I shove Billy out of my way and I run to the kitchen. Suddenly, Sidney pops out and points the gun at me. "Woah. Woah. Calm down there princess." I back slowly towards the counter. "You fucking bitches. Oh Jesus Chris. I'm so stupid. This is all my fault. My fault."

"Honestly, sweetheart. It is. We killed all these people for you. All for you. Your parents." I choked back a cry. "Your Tatum." Sidney adds. I let out a sob. "Why? What did I do to you?" "Well, princess. You hated your parents, so we got rid of them for you." "But I love Tate." "No! You don't love her. You love us." She told me, picking up the knife from Billy and tracing it down my cheek. The adrenaline from the nights events is wearing off and I begin to actually register what I've done. What I've seen. Sidney stands in front of me and Billy has his head on her shoulder.

"Why? Why me?" "Because we love you, sweetheart" I break down for the first time that night, falling into Sidney's arms as I sob. "Get away from me. Leave me alone. Please!" I start to hyperventilate as I think of Tatum and my parents being brutally murdered. And it was all my fault. My fault that Dewey was stabbed. My fault Randy was shot. I fall to my knees, sobbing. I'm having a panic attack. I haven't had one this bad since I got the news my parents were found. "In and out. In and out. Come on, Y/N. Breathe. In and out." I hear Tatum's voice guiding me as I calm myself.

I stand, looking at the two people who sat with me after my parents died, comforting me, helping me through it when in reality, it was them who caused it. All the pain I feel. It was them. I don't see friends anymore. I see targets. I grab a knife off of the counter and feel it in my hand. Can I really kill them? I love them. But not as much as I love Tatum. Or mom and dad. I don't see Billy so tackle Sid and pin her. Who knew wrestling would come in handy. I pin the knife to her neck and look at her. She's so much prettier up close. "You won't do it, baby girl. You can't." I press the knife down harder as she stares into my eyes.

"Do it."

I raise the knife then drop it with a loud groan of frustration. "Why can't I do it?" I ask myself. I feel myself being suddenly jerked back and something cold being pressed on my black short dress and breasts. "Because you love this. You love all of it. I bet if I stuck my hand down your dress, your panties would be soaked. Sidney, would you like to check?" "Hmm" she nodded, sticking her hand up my dress and brushing them over my pulsing pussy. "Soaked, Billy." I whimper as Billy slits my dress in half, Sidney ripping it off. I realize the position I'm in. I'm straddling Sidney and Billy is holding a knife off to my left.

I'm left in my black bra and panties set and my thigh high stockings. "These fucking stockings, pretty girl. Everyday, you wear these stupid fucking stockings and everyday, I wanna fuck the shit outta you every time I see you in them." I let out a soft whine as I hear Billy's words and I feel Sidney's thumb circling my clit slowly through my underwear. Suddenly, I'm flipped over on my back on the floor and Sidney's by my head, sticking her fingers down the back of my throat. Then, Billy comes up towards my face and I see his cock. That won't fit inside me. In my mouth or my pussy. "Suck it like a slut." He orders as I take his dick in my mouth as to avoid him getting angry.

I moan around his cock as I feel Sid's fingers slide deep inside my cunt, deeper then mine could reach. I suck harder on Billy's dick as he begins thrusting, hitting the back of my throat and groaning at the feeling of me gagging around his dick. Sidney starts pistoning her fingers in and out of my pussy so fast that I reach down to grab her fingers to slow her down. "Oh now now baby doll. You were doing so good for mommy and daddy. Move your hands." Sid commands, slapping my hands away as she continues pistoning her fingers quickly, in and out.

"Fuck" Billy groans as something goes down my throat. "Swallow." I swallow obediently and look up innocently at Billy. "So good for daddy and mommy baby." My pussy clenches harder around Sidney's fingers as I arch my back and let out a loud moan as I cum for the first of many times tonight. "Good girl." Billy comes and trades places with Sidney as Sidney comes to straddle my face. Billy starts rubbing the tip of his cock against my cunt as he starts to push his dick inside my dripping pussy. It won't fit. It won't fit. I'm a virgin! But then he pushes himself all the way in to the hilt as I let out a scream.

He reaches up and chokes me, not enough to where I can't breathe, but just enough to where I reach that fuzzy feeling and drift off into subspace and stopped screaming. Sidney begins riding my face and making out with Billy as he thrusts in and out of my cunt so hard, I see stars and a quickly approaching 2nd orgasm. I let out a cry as I cum for the second time. Shortly after, Sidney comes and I drink all of her juices like a good girl. Sidney sits back and watches and plays with my nipples as Billy's dick disappears in and out of my pussy, his cock coated in red from my blood. Billy pinches my pulsing clit, hard as I cum for a third time.

"Please! No more! No more! Can't take anymore daddy, mommy. Fuck, please no more." "Oh come on, princess. Be a good girl and give mommy and daddy one more. One more. Then you can suck. Ok?" Sidney says as I come again, my eyes rolling back into my head, my hoarse voice screaming mommy and daddy, the tears streaking down my cheeks, all sends Billy over the edge. "We fucking own you. You fucking belong to us, Y/N." Billy groans out. After Billy pulls out of my dripping wet cunt with a mixture of my cum, his cum, and my blood, Sidney cradles me in her lap and let's me suck on her nipple, praising me while Billy goes to get something. I'm not registering anything that's happening except for the good girls and the I'm so proud of yous.

"Good girl. You're mommy's good girl, aren't you Y/N? Mommy's so proud of you. You were so good for mommy and daddy." Billy leans down and gives Sidney a quick kiss. Sidney leans down and kisses me, slipping her tongue in my mouth along with a little pill. "Mommy? What was that?" I asked, starting to feel sleepy. "Just something that will help us to bring you home easier." "Mommy? Daddy?" "Yes, princess?" They say in unison. I bury my head into Sidney's breasts as I mumble two words.

"Fuck you"

2.8k words

578 notes · View notes

avastrasposts · 1 year

Text

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 7 **

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

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

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

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

Chapter 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh yeah, you said that last night too.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Forget it man, not important.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“Here, cariño, drink the water first.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I guess, bu- “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take your clothes off for me, Frankie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 8

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #sweet frankie morales #smut #fluff

228 notes · View notes