#thanks as always for following along with this

[sixosix]

it was tsukishima’s favorite drink.

It’s around eight AM when you receive a text from Tsukishima.

Where are you?, it reads.

omw there! hehe, you send back. Followed by: i can see the gate!

Ok.

why? do u want to see me already? lol

Tsukishima doesn’t reply, leaving it on Read, which makes you laugh and garner attention from some startled students. Tsukishima always wants the last word. You imagine him grunting and grumbling insults at his phone as he reads your message before shoving it away. He’s so cute, honestly.

As you hurry upstairs, your phone vibrates once again. You pause, reading Tsukishima’s question. What do you want from here? And it’s a picture of the vending machine outside the building, by the school gate. You didn’t even have to run all the way here.

i want to try the new soda flavor!

Ok, he sends back. I’ll give it to you @ lunch.

thank you, kei!!

By the time Lunch period rolls around, you barely have to get up from your seat. Hinata had zoomed off initially, but his head pops back in to yell at you, “Your boyfriend’s here!”

You hear someone mutter a confused Boyfriend?, but you don’t even have to look to check who it is. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi walk in long strides towards your desk. Either of them could be the boyfriend Hinata was referring to, really, so Hinata’s embarrassing volume doesn’t affect you.

“Here,” Tsukishima says, passing a freshly bought soda across your desk and into your expectant hands.

“Thank you, Kei! How much?”

Tsukishima pulls out the chair in front of your desk yet sits opposite from it to face you. “It’s fine,” he says, then brings out his own drink, a carton of strawberry-flavored milk. “Don’t look too happy. I’m here to make sure you study before you go to the club room.”

“Killjoy,” you murmur, but you’re smiling wide.

Yamaguchi laughs, settling on the seat beside you. He has Moo-Moo Milk for his drink for today’s lunch, and instead of a notebook like you and Tsukishima, he has an actual lunch. “Shh. Or Tsukki might take your soda back.”

You carefully shield your drink with both arms as Tsukishima rolls his eyes and urges you to just open your damn notebook already. You oblige, feeling quite giddy. Not only has Tsukishima agreed to tutor you, but he takes it upon himself to go to your classroom, and buy you a drink. Then again… this might be his grand masterplan to make you owe him the world. First, vending machine soda; next, the entirety of Japan.

You sip on your drink, then make a face. It tastes disgusting.

“Oy,” Tsukishima’s stern voice cuts through your thoughts. He’s been staring the entire time you got lost in your train of thought.

You fumble with the pages. “I-I’m listening!”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“Whuh? Math? Of course not.”

“The soda, idiot.”

You grimace at the cold drink in your hand. It doesn’t even feel refreshing—like the way it’s advertised on the cover—it just assaults your taste buds. “It’s alright,” you say instead.

Tsukishima sighs. “Let’s switch.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t like this one anyway.”

“But why would you buy—”

At Tsukishima’s irritated expression, Yamaguchi jolts into action and urges you: “Just go along with it!” Like Tsukishima was bribing you with something illegal. Startled and dazed, you let Tsukishima switch drinks with you.

You both take a sip at the same time. Tsukishima’s expression doesn’t change, but you beam up at him. It’s sweet. 

Tsukishima stands and taps on your notebook. “I’ll be back, but you answer items 1–5.”

You and Yamaguchi watch as he leaves. “Where is he going?” you wonder.

“To spit it out, probably.” Yamaguchi snickered. “Hehe. He looked like a chipmunk.”

“Why would he trade if he didn’t like that one either, then? Kei is so stupid.”

“You might beat him on that.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re pretty stupid, too.”

At times like these, you’re reminded that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are best friends. “Hey!”

Yamaguchi just grins in a way that spells out he’s up to no good. “You should buy more nasty flavors and make Tsukki trade.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

Yamaguchi shrugs. “So that it actually works.”

Tsukishima This is disgusting

Yamaguchi at least you managed to swap saliva

Tsukishima You are as disgusting as this failed tropical mess of a soda flavor, Yamaguchi

Yamaguchi hahahaha. you were blushing, Tsukki.

[luveline]

is it too late to request a Father’s Day request for kbd steve?🥹

KBD —Steve starts his Father’s Day. mom!reader, 1k

“What does that mean?” 

Steve leans back, baby toothbrush in hand, baby toothpaste dripping down Dove’s chin. “What does what mean?” 

“Father’s Day.” She licks her lip. 

“Dove, don’t eat it.” He rinses her toothbrush and beckons her carefully on her stepping stool to the sink. “Come spit, honey.” 

Dove spits her toothpaste. Steve grins, leaning over her, turning on the faucet and grabbing a handful of warm water to wipe her face. She spits again into his hand, but he’s unphased, wiping her down and turning off the water. 

She turns expectedly for a towel. Steve brings it to her face and dabs her dry gently. “Father’s Day just means a day for dad’s.” 

“Day to do what?” 

“It’s sort of like a birthday. Like, a day for children to show they love their daddy’s.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “So if you really love me, Dove, today’s the day to show it.” 

Her lashes kiss her eyebrows as her eyes widen. “Today?” 

“It’s today, yeah.” 

Steve looks down on her, his little baby with her mom’s surprised face and his everything else, give or take. She’s getting so smart, but she’s still so small, Steve can pick her up like a couple of cans of tinned pears. She’s never heavy, just whiny. She looks up at him and he can see a few cogs still turning. 

“Babe,” he says, holding her face softly, “it’s not a big deal. Every day we spend together is a good day, so you don’t have to worry. I love my girl, I love all my girls, and I’m just excited for mom’s big breakfast.” 

“I love you, too,” she says seriously. 

He smooths the temporary wrinkle from between her eyebrows. “I love you more. Are we all done in the bathroom? Do you need to pee before we go have breakfast?” 

She doesn’t need a pee. Dove offers her hand and he takes it, helping her down from the stool, and guiding her out of the bathroom back to the master bedroom. You’re sitting on the made bed with Wren laying down beside you, freshly changed and dressed for what feels like the millionth time. 

“Hey. Did you brush?” you ask him. 

“We both brushed, duh.” Steve leans down behind Dove to frame her shoulders proudly. “Show mom your pearly whites, baby.” 

Dove beams. You pick Wren up and prop her, smiling and quiet, on your knee to see Dove’s teeth. “Woah, look at that, Wren. Look at Dove’s clean teeth, aren’t they perfect?” 

Wren gurgles with a distinct sense of sisterly love. Wren and Dove get along well, all the girls do, but Steve believes there’s been a faction forming between Beth and Avery, so he’s glad for Dove’s fondness as she steps away from him to try and give the baby a hug. Wren doesn’t know enough to hug back yet, but you do. 

“Come on, let’s go have breakfast,” Steve says, sparing a glance behind you for the spoils of Father’s Day. There are some clothes, some candies, and a favourite tray of crafts made through teamwork for Steve to display at his discretion. He couldn’t be any luckier. 

You’re smiling too as you follow him out of the bedroom. You usually are, to be fair to you, you’ve always smiled around Steve because you’re both remarkable idiots in love with one another after everything, because of everything. Steve can’t believe he gets to be in one of those marriages that get stronger each year, and occasionally you return the sentiment aloud, whispering something kind in his ear when you’re both almost sleeping. They don’t have a word for how much I love you, H. 

He catches you for a quick kiss pressed to your cheek as you reach the bottom of the stairs. 

“Oh, thanks,” you mumble, rubbing your cheek against your shoulder in a mock demureness that actually makes his heart skip a beat. If he does it enough times, your faking it will become real. 

He kisses you again. “Beautiful,” he says. 

“Thanks,” you say again, your tone tipping into shyness, just a touch. 

“I’m beautiful,” Dove says. 

She paws at Steve’s leg. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, ushering her forward to make room for everyone to keep walking. “Dove, I think you’re the most beautiful three nearly four year old in the whole wide world.” 

“Am I the most beautiful…” Bethie pauses, standing on a chair at the table, her nightie creased but her hair done and out of her face. “How old am I?” she asks. 

“Six!” Steve says. “You don’t remember how old you are?” 

“I forgot.” She frowns, and then she shakes it off. “Daddy, we’re setting the table.” 

“And you’re doing such a good job!” He turns his head one way and the other, searching their tired kitchen for his eldest girl. “Avery, where’d you go?” he asks. 

She pops up in front of him with a roar. “Got you!” she declares, wrapping her arms around his legs. 

“You think so?” He grabs her under the arms and lifts her. She’s much heavier than the rest of her sisters, but she’s his big girl, so of course she is. Steve isn’t too old as to carry her yet, letting her torso fall forward, her back to his chest as he hangs her upside down. 

She bursts into terrified laughter. “Dad, put me down! You’re dropping me!” 

“How many times do we have to go over this, Ave? I have never dropped you. I will never drop you.” He chuckles nonchalantly. “Looks like I’m the one that got you.” 

“You’re not funny, dad!” 

“I’m very funny.” He manages to get her the right way round again, and puckers his lips for a kiss. She doesn’t kiss him. “Avery, it’s Father’s Day. You can’t be mad at me ‘cos that’s illegal.” 

“You’re illegal.” 

“Just one little kiss?” he asks softly. 

“You have to!” Dove says, attempting to climb onto the chair with Beth, your hand behind her back. “Avery, it’s Father’s Day.” 

“I know, Dove, he just said that!” 

Still, Steve gets his kisses and a good hug, too. He lets his voice go all melty and corny as he rubs his nose into her cheek, “Thanks, my little nugget. You give the best kiss in the world.” 

“I am not a nugget.” 

“Are you sure? How do we check?” 

You put the baby in her padded high chair, convince Dove and Beth that they’ll be happier sitting in their own chairs on their booster pillows, and then slide behind Steve and Avery to push at them. “Come on, I’m making breakfast.” 

“What are we having?” Steve asks, smiling over Avery’s shoulder as she nuzzles her face against his neck. She used to fit in one arm, but he doesn’t mind wrapping both of them around her as he sits down, his long girl tight to his chest. 

“Everything,” you promise. “The whole works for my guy.” 

“Whole works,” he says, kissing the top of Avery’s ear. “Can you believe that?” 

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

~

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

[lee-laurent]

Scheiße - Luke Hughes

Summary: In which Luke falls for Nico's friend despite the language barrier. Or in which Sofia dates an American boy even though she barely understands him... at first.

Content: fluff, a tiny bit of angst (sort of), implied sex but no smut, making out

also this fic is formatted a bit different! it's kinda like a timeline of Luke and Sofia's relationship!

notes: everything in italics is in swiss german. easier than having to translate everything!! this one is for all my other multilingual queens/kings :) i tried my best to represent the struggle that i felt trying to learn english, but obviously everyone's experience is going to be different. the squirrel scene is very much taken from an actual experience i had haha

Meeting

"Stop picking at your nails, Sof. Everyone is going to love you," Nico attempted to calm his best friend.

"You don't know that. They could hate me," she argued, continuing to pick at her cuticles.

"Well... I'm their captain. So, if they do anything that makes you upset..."

"Don't threaten your team for me, Neeks."

"Just trying to reassure you, love."

The Devils were having a little pre-season get together with all the players and their significant others. Nico's best friend, Sofia, had recently made the move to America in hopes to improve her English; so, naturally he had decided to bring her along to help her make some friends in New Jersey.

Nervously, she followed behind Nico as they walked onto the roof of Nicole and Jesper's building. He placed a comforting hand on her back, leading her towards a group of WAGs.

"Nico! Hi!" Nicole smiled, "And you must be Sofia! Nico talks about you all the time."

"Hi," Sofia smiled sheepishly, playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Would you like a drink?" the blonde asked.

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

"I'll be with the boys. Let me know if you need anything," Nico smiled, walking off towards a group of hollering men.

Sofia fell into a steady flow of conversation with the Devils' significant others. Well, as steady as it could be with her limited knowledge of English.

"How long have you been seeing Nico?" one of the girls asked, taking a sip from her cocktail.

Sofia choked on her drink, giggling at the idea of being with Nico. "He is my best friend. We are not toether."

"Omg! I'm so sorry," the other girl blushed.

"It is fine! No stress," Sof smiled proudly at the use of the expression that Nico had recently taught her.

"So, anyone special back in Switzerland?" Nicole questioned.

"Oh, um, no. I... too focused on work. No time," she explained.

"Omg! We could set you up with one of the single guys on the team!"

"Oh... it's okay," Sofia giggled, taking a long sip of her drink.

"Let us know if you change your mind," Nicole winked, before starting a story about something that had happened at work earlier in the week.

"Sofia! Come here!" Nico beckoned her over to where he stood with a few players.

"Coming! It was nice meeting you all," she smiled politely at the girls.

"Wait! Give me your number! I'll add you to our group chat," Simon's girlfriend exclaimed. Sofia was giddy as she typed her number into her newly found friend's phone.

"Guys, meet Sofia," Nico smiled, placing his hand on her back once again. "Sof, meet Luke, Jack, Timo, and Dawson."

"Hi," Jack smiled widely.

"Nico always talks of you guys. Nice to meet you," the girl smiled, scooting closer into Nico's side. She was not a fan of all the eyes on her at the moment.

"Nice to see you again," Timo grinned. They'd met over the summer when Nico was training.

Luke could see her shoulders untense at the sound of her native language.

"You as well. It's crazy to meet everyone Nico talks about all the time. Like, sometimes I was convinced they were all in his head," she giggled, earning a glare from her best friend.

Luke, Jack, and Dawson chuckled awkwardly, completely unaware of what the conversation in front of them was about. They could be shit talking for all they knew.

"So... what do you do for work?" Dawson asked.

"Oh, fashion photography!"

"Ever tried sports photography?"

"I'm not as good at it," she nodded.

"She's being humble. She just prefers fashion," Nico laughed. While Nico talked to the boys, Sofia couldn't help but notice that the tallest boy in the group had yet to speak to her. Did he not like her? She was trying her best. She caught his eyes for a moment, but he quickly looked down at the beer in his hands. She was upset that one of Nico's close friends didn't like her, but she couldn't win them all.

Crushing

It was the third or fourth time that Sofia had hungout with the WAGs. This time she'd invited them to have their wine night at her and Nico's apartment. The girls were sat in the living room, chatting animatedly about the upcoming season.

"I know that Simon is so excited for his rookie season! He told me that Luke is feeling the same way," Simon's girlfriend smiled.

"I- I don't think Luke likes me," Sofia spoke up, swishing her wine around in the glass.

"What?!" Nicole exclaimed, "Why do you think that?"

"He never talks to me. And when I go to stand with Neeks, he walks away."

"That's funny because Curtis told me something completely different," Reanne smiled cheekily.

"What did he say?" Sofia asked, chugging the rest of her wine, before pouring herself some more.

"That Luke has a biiiiiig crush on a certain someone."

"Ooo! Sofia!" the girls cheered.

"But... he doesn't talk to me."

"Luke has no play, girl. He's probably just wayyy too nervous to talk you cause you're so stunning."

"He thinks I'm cute?" Sofia blushed.

"Duh! Who wouldn't? Do you think he's cute?" Nicole pressed.

Sofia pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her growing smile, "He is like... how do I say it? My..."

"Type?"

"Yes! He's my type."

"Can I tell Curtis? Maybe he can talk some sense into Luke."

"We should let them come together naturally, Reanne," Nicole giggled.

"Okay, well... next game you're talking to him. Sound good?"

Sofia nodded happily. She couldn't believe that Luke had a crush on her! She felt like a high schooler writing in her diary about the cute boy in her class.

First Date

Sofia stood in the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair for the 15th time. She hadn't gone on a date in over a year and she was shitting herself. Luke had asked her out after their most recent win against the Rangers. She hadn't exactly told Nico who were date was with, but he knew she was going on one.

"You look beautiful, Sof," Nico smiled as she walked into the kitchen.

"It's not too much?" she asked, pulling at the bottom of her top.

"Are you going to wear a jacket?"

"Yeah, my jean one."

"I think that's perfect. Where are you guys going?"

"Some pizza place. Then we're going on a walk, I think."

"Cute. How'd you meet?"

"Oh, at the Rangers game. He came up to me when I was waiting for you."

"He wasn't a Rangers fan... was he?"

"No," she giggled, "He was wearing a Devils' jersery."

"Good. Have fun! You'll be back tonight?"

"Yes, Neeks. I'm not going to his on the first date," she giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Stay safe! I love you!"

"Love you too," she grabbed her purse, blowing him one last kiss before disappearing out the door.

"Hi," Luke smiled, "I like your outfit."

"Thank you, Luke. You look nice too," she admired the way his chest looked in the blue polo shirt he was wearing.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."

The walk to the pizza place was full of laughter. Sofia wasn't sure she'd ever felt so confident in her English as when she was around Luke. He wasn't condescending at all, helping her when she asked and waiting when she didn't.

"Have you ever played hockey?" Luke asked, cutting himself a slice of pizza.

"No. That is not really... my thing?"

Luke nodded in understanding.

"But I love watching. You are very good."

"Thanks, Sofia. I have seen the outfits you've helped Nico make. Do you think you could help me?"

"You always wear same two suits," she giggled, covering her mouth.

"Don't bully me!"

"Sorry. I would love to help you, Luke."

"I, uh, wanted to apologize for ignoring you when we first met. I was under the impression that you were with Nico, so I was trying to push my attraction away."

"Nico is like a brother. I never think of him other ways. Promise."

"It's fine, Sof. No worries. I just being dumb."

"Maybe you are always dumb, Lukey."

Luke cackled, reaching out and holding her hand across the table.

"I'll just pretend that was your lack of English and not you bullying my again."

"I would never bully you," she smirked.

First Kiss

Sofia was cuddled up into Luke's side on the sofa, his hand holding tightly onto the dip of her waist.

"I can put the German captions on," Luke offered, as he watched Sofia's face scrunch up for umpteenth time.

"But maybe that would distract you."

"It won't, babe. I'll turn them on."

Sofia blushed at the pet name. Luke grabbed the remote, clicking on the German caption option on the film they were watching.

"What the hell is Eichhörnchen?" Luke asked, butchering the pronunciation.

"Eichhörnchen?" she giggled, correcting him, "It's squirrel."

"Say that again?"

"Squirrel."

"You say it so funny. I'm sorry."

"The 'skw' sound... that is not in German. Stop hating."

"Sorry, love," Luke giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Sofia looked up at him as he pulled away. She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, leading him back down.

"What're you doing?" he whispered.

"Can we kiss?"

"Wha- what?"

"Can we kiss?" she asked just as confidently as before.

Luke nodded, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned forward, capturing her top lip between his. He smiled into the kiss, ultimately breaking it. Sofia pouted, pulling him back in for more.

Wearing His Jersey/Becoming His Girlfriend

"Do a spin for me?" Luke smiled from his spot on his bed. Sofia was dressed in her panties and a jersey with 'Hughes 43' plastered on the back. She spun around giggling as he got off the bed, picking her up.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he said between kisses, hands sneaking under the jersey to give her exposed ass a small squeeze. She gasped, smacking his chest.

"Jack will be home soon, I should go."

"Do you have to?" he whined, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

"Yes, Lukey. I'll be at the game, wearing my new jersey," she giggled, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He attempted to lay down and bring her with him, but she was quick to stand up. She walked over to the side of the bed, hopping into her jeans. The vintage bell bottoms looked amazing on her and Luke made sure to let her know, letting out a low whistle as she walked out the door.

"A Hughes' jersey?" Nico questioned after the game, pulling her into a hug.

"Thought I'd switch it up. Can't always be repping the Hischier one."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Luke let me borrow it."

"I'm glad you two have become friends. I was worrying you weren't going to befriend any of the guys."

"We're the same age. It just made sense," she shrugged.

"You never told me how that date you went on was."

"Oh, didn't really work out. He just wanted to use me to get free tickets," she lied.

"Sounds about right. You'll find someone, Sof. Don't worry."

"And if I don't?"

"You've got me," he winked, making her laugh. "Need a ride home?"

"Yes! Let me say thanks to Luke again."

"I'll meet you at the car," he smiled, kissing her cheek as he headed out.

"Look at you," Luke whispered as he pulled her into a 'friendly' hug. "Look so good in my jersey."

"Stop being so horny," she giggled, pulling away from him.

"Can't help it when my girlfriend looks sooooo fine."

"Girlfriend?"

"Sorry, I- uh, I just assumed because we spend all this time together. But if you don't want to be my girlfriend, I understand. I shouldn't have-"

"Luke."

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

"Oh."

She pulled him into one more quick hug, before skipping off to meet Nico.

Nico Finding Out

Luke hummed as Sofia straddled his lap, running her hands through his hair. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, another on her neck, then one on her collarbone before connecting their lips again.

"I missed you," he mumbled.

"Missed you too."

The boys had been on a week long roadie, and now Sofia and Luke couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"Mmm, I love this perfume. Is it new?" he asked, kissing her neck again.

"Yeah," her voice was shaky, gasping when he nipped at her jaw.

"God, Sofia. You're perfect."

"Luke."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

His hands gripped her waist as their lips met in another passionate kiss. They laid down on the couch, Luke holding himself up as his girlfriend giggled below him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just missed this."

"Me too, babe."

Sofia's hands moved under his top, feeling the smooth skin of his chest. Just as Luke was going to ask if he could do the same, a new voice echoed through the apartment.

"Sofia? Who's here?"

"What?"

"Who's here? There's some white sneakers at the door. Not mine."

"Oh, Luke's here! We're watching TV."

The couple scrambled to sit up and fix their dishevled looks.

"Hey, Luke! How's it going, man?" Nico entered the living room, dapping up his teammate.

"Good, good. How're you?"

"Good. You didn't tell me he was coming over," Nico turned to his roommate.

"Yeah... spur of the moment."

"Is that a hickey?" Nico asked in German, as not to embarass Sofia.

"What? No."

"It totally is! Who gave you a hickey?"

"It's not a hickey, Nico."

"Was it him?!" Nico gasped.

"What?! No!"

"It was! You're such a shit liar! How long?"

"Beginning of the season," she sighed, finally giving in.

"This is so funny! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm not a shit liar, for the record. You had no idea until now."

"Was that date with him?!"

"Nico!"

"I'm right here... if you're talking about me," Luke scratched the back of his neck.

"One second, Luke," Sofia smiled. "It was, yeah. I... I was nervous to tell you. Was worried you'd think I was using you to get with him."

"That's funny, Sof. I couldn't care less. As long as you're happy."

Sofia stood up, pulling her best friend into a tight hug.

"I'm watching you though, Rusty. Hurt her and I'll hurt you," Nico threatened, heading to his bedroom.

"He knows?!" Luke gasped.

Guess Sofia had some explaining to do.

[lvnleah]

Rough Flights | AWFC x reader

Summary: whilst on a flight to Australia, you become travel sick and experience the worst flight you’ve ever been on.

Pairings: Leah Williamson x reader, Steph Catley x reader, Caitlin Foord x reader. (Let’s pretend Leah went to Aus)

Word count: 1K

based on a request @wosoamazing gave me for her birthday! 💗

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leah nudged you gently. "Hey, sleepyhead," she said, her voice soft. "Boarding's about to start."

You blinked, disoriented. How had you dozed off? You’d had a headache since the moment you’d woken up and it had now blurred your senses. you’d slumped against the hard plastic chair and fallen asleep. You mumbled a thanks before standing up.

You were currently on your way to Australia with your Arsenal teammates. An end of season friendly had been arranged and you were one of the few youngsters they were taking with. You weren’t sure if you were even going to go until yesterday morning.

Travel anxiety was always something you’d struggled with and you were anxious about getting sick on the plane. You expressed your feelings to Leah, she was like a sister to you, and she offered to travel with you. Her original plans were to stay in England, to be fit for the England camp, but after hearing how anxious you were she knew she couldn’t let you travel alone.

Boarding the plane was chaos, at one point Kyra thought she’d forgotten her passport. It turned out that Kim had it along with yours. All of the girls were taking photos with the conti cup, something you’d declined not to due to your headache. Steph walked around the plane, getting an update from everyone as she video them for the media team. Your update was boring and about how you were just going to sleep the flight away.

As you settled into your seat next to Leah, exhaustion washed over you. The hum of the engines lulled you into a deep sleep and the world around you was soon forgotten.

Three hours into the twenty-two-hour flight, you woke abruptly, your stomach churning. Nausea twisted your insides, and you clutched your stomach. You groaned into your pillow.

Leah noticed immediately. "You okay, kiddo?" she asked, her hand on your back. "Jet lag hitting you hard?"

You nodded, “I feel so sick…” you murmured, breathing out a deep breath.

"It's okay," Leah whispered. "Breathe. I’m here.”

Your nausea intensified, “I’m gonna be sick!” You exclaimed, sitting up.

Leah grabbed a sickness bag and quickly handed it to you. She climbed through the middle part and leaned down beside your seat in the aisle. Her hand comfortingly rubbed up and down your back.

“You okay, kiddo?” Steph asked, joining Leah by her side, “Travel sickness?”

Leah nodded, “She’s not used to flying, I think it could be. We’re here, y/n.”

You emptied the contents of your stomach and wiped your mouth with a tissue, feeling slightly better after emptying your stomach into the sickness bag.

“I’m so sorry…” You murmured, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Hey, hey don’t apologise,” Steph smiles, “it’s okay, we want to be here for you.”

“Can I get you anything, kid?” Caitlin asked.

You managed a weak nod, “Some water, please,” you croaked, your throat raw from the sudden sickness. Caitlin gave a thumbs up and headed towards the cabin crew to fetch you a bottle of water.

Leah continued to rub your back, her presence a comforting constant in the chaos of your discomfort. “Just focus on breathing, in and out,” she instructed gently. You followed her advice, taking slow, deep breaths which helped settle the queasiness slightly.

The plane hummed steadily, a reminder that you were still hours away from your destination. You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes and trying to focus on anything but the nausea. Leah stayed by your side, her hand never leaving your back.

After a few minutes, Caitlin returned with a bottle of water and a sympathetic smile. “Here you go,” she said as she handed it to you. “Small sips.”

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and sipped the cool water, feeling it soothe your throat. The rest of the flight passed in a blur of sleep and occasional bouts of nausea, but with Leah and your teammates’ support, you managed to make it through.

The rest of the flight felt like a test. You spent most of your time trying to sleep, with Leah's jacket wrapped around you due to your shivers. Every now and then, you'd wake up, either due to turbulence or another wave of nausea, but Leah was always there, ready with a comforting word or a glass of water.

In between bouts of sleep, you managed to watch your favourite movie, Notting hill but even once that was over there were still a good few hours to go.

Leah suggested listening to some music or watching another movie to distract yourself. You tried both, finding that focusing on something else helped keep the nausea at bay. You even managed to laugh at some stupid jokes Kyra was telling.

As the hours ticked by, you started to feel a bit better. The headache that had been plaguing you since morning began to fade, and with it, the nausea seemed less intense. You were even able to join in when some of your teammates started a card game.

By the time the captain announced that you were preparing for landing, you were feeling almost normal. The flight had been tough, but you'd made it through with the help of your friends and teammates. Now, you were just looking forward to getting off the plane and stretching your legs on solid ground.

The Australian sun was warm on your skin. You followed Leah like a little duckling through the airport, feeling a mix of relief and excitement to finally be on solid ground.

Customs and baggage claim went by in a blur, and before you knew it, you were on the team bus heading towards the hotel. The cityscape of Sydney passed by the windows, you tried to take in as much as you could but a dull headache stopped you from doing so.

Once at the hotel, you checked in and headed straight for your room. You were sharing with Leah. As soon as you entered your room, you headed straight for the bathroom. You took a long shower and refreshed yourself, trying to make yourself feel normal after the sickness spell you’d suffered.

In your room, Leah fussed over hou. She fluffed pillows, adjusted blankets, and tucked you in. "Rest," she said. "You need it."

You closed your eyes, the room spinning a little, before finally dozing off to sleep and forgetting the world around you.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty

Summary: The aftermath of CB & Peter's weekend away.

Warning: Mean Bucky is back.

Word Count: 1039

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I'm so sorry this one took so long to come out and it's only a short one. OH ALSO, we have @scraftsku35 to thank for this one because they changed the characters fated while we were discussing this chapter. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez4

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

You sat with Natasha and Wanda on your couch that following Monday evening. Steve and Sam were engaged in a playful debate across the room as Bucky quietly observed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips while Alpine snuggled into him. 

After a few moments, Wanda exchanged a mischievous glance with Natasha as she stood before disappearing into the kitchen. Your eyes widened as she returned with a cake, reading the word “Virgin” written on black icing with a red prohibited symbol across it. The room fell silent as she walked over to you, handing you the cake, a sly grin spread across her face. 

“Congratulations, CB!” Natasha exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Your face turned as crimson as the icing as you took the cake. You glanced around the room. “What is this?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Well, after we heard about your little weekend with Peter,” Wanda chimed in, her laughter infectious. “We thought you might appreciate a bit of humor, it’s just a little joke.” 

Sam burst into laughter, nearly doubling over as he made his way over you. “Oh man, this is too good!” he laughed, wiping tears from his eyes as he took the cake from your hands. “You guys went all out, huh?” 

Suddenly, a bitter laugh was let out over by Bucky. “Peter? The so-called gentleman? Oh, he’s always such a nice guy…” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as a smirk mashed over his face. “Bet the twink only got two pumps in.” 

A surge of defiance coursed through you as you decided to go along with the charade. “Actually, Bucky, Peter was amazing,” you said, you tried to keep your voice steady as your heart raced. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

Steve’s face darkened, his haw tensed as his eyes blazed with barely controlled anger. He didn’t say anything but his protective instinct was evident. The furious look on his face spoke volumes. 

Bucky’s smirk faltered before he made another sarcastic comment. “Well, I’m glad you had your fairy tale moment,” he muttered, standing up and wandering over to the kitchen. 

“Oh, it was magical…” you trailed off, “I just, I couldn’t take it all… if you know what I mean.” 

His smirk returned, though it was colder this time and his eyes darkened. “Sure, we all know Peter’s got that ‘magic touch’.” Opening the fridge, he rummaged through its contents searching for another beer. His eyes landed on a six-pack of canned cherry cola, pulling it out, he turned to face you. 

“Cans?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You hate it canned. What’s it doing in your fridge?” 

A pang of guilt dawned over you, knowing Peter had bought it for you without knowing you only liked it from glass bottles. “Peter bought me it,” you replied nonchalantly. “It was a nice gesture.” 

His grip tightened on the can, and his knuckles whitened. “Of course he did,” he muttered, putting the cola back and grabbing his beer. 

Natasha and Wanda exchanged glances, and their joking demeanor shifted to one of concern as they noticed the growing tension in the apartment. Sam, still chuckled to himself at the dining table while stuffing his face with the cake. Steve, remained silent, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on you– A storm brewing behind them. 

As Bucky returned to the living room, he took a long swig of beer before flopping back on the couch. “You know,” he began, his tone laced with sarcasm, “if Peter is so great, maybe he should’ve bought the right cola.” 

Anger surged through you as Bucky continued with his jabs. “At least Peter tries to be nice,” you snapped back. “What‘s the matter? Are you only a ‘two-pump’ kinda guy? It’s okay if you are, I’m sure Leah doesn’t mind.” 

His smirk turned icy. “Yeah right, I always get my girl to finish.” 

An unexpected pang of pain cut deeply into your heart at the use of ‘my girl’. Scoffing you were determined to maintain your facade. “Only once?” you questioned. “Not that it’s a competition, James, but Peter got me to finish three times…” 

The tension thickened in the room, his smirk wavered as he tightened his jaw. Steve’s silence was deafening. Standing, his presence commanded the room, and its attention. 

“That’s enough!” Steve’s voice cut through the room, booming with a sharp edge, simmering with restrained rage. “Come on, Bucky, we’ve got to go.” His expression left no room for debate as he looked over at Bucky. 

With one last glare toward you, Bucky stood, draining his beer before resting the empty bottle on the coffee table. Too consumed with his own emotions, he missed the quiet meow in protest from Alpine. 

Steve didn’t say a word as he opened the apartment door, his eyes burnt with anger. 

The room was left in an awkward silence, the laughter and teasing from earlier now a distant memory. Clearing her throat, Natasha spoke up trying to lighten the mood. “So, Peter was that good, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t go through with it,” you admitted quietly, the lie weighing heavily on your chest. 

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, what? What do you mean?” she asked, concern tinged in her voice.

You sighed. “I didn’t sleep with Peter,” you confessed, your gaze dropped to Alpine as she brushed her head against your leg. “I pretended I did because Bucky was annoying me, but…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain the mess. 

Natasha’s expression softened as she reached over to squeeze your hand, reassuringly. “It’s okay,” she said gently, “he was being a jerk.” 

“Hey Wands, where’s this cake from?” Sam’s voice was muffled but cheerful, he startled you as you thought he left with your brother and Bucky. “I want some for the next time I get–” 

He paused mid-sentence, noticing the absence of Steve and Bucky. He hastily swallowed the cake in his mouth, his head turned toward where the two had previously been sat. Frosting remained around his lips. “Wait, where’d Steve and Buck go?” 

Suppressing a sigh, Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look, realizing Sam had missed the entire drama. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[riverwritez]

movie night (with the boys).

a/n: hello! I’m river (or Lilly) and I’ve written like one thing on here and plan on writing more so! It’s nice to meet you all and I hope you enjoy this and what’s to come. Also be nice, I’m really rusty with writing.

warnings: fluff, I think that’s all.

edited: a little tiny bit

matt x fem!reader.

With the boys schedule being jam packed with various different meetings, events and video plans- you and Matt rarely found time to be together besides late at night when he came home, and early mornings when you woke up for work. Especially with Nate being in town, alone time was scarce.

But you and Matt finally found a sliver of time that you guys could have a small date at the house. Just a simple movie night with snacks, and neither of you complained, just wanting to be with the other for as long as they could.

“Ok, your pick tonight, what movie are we watching?” Matt asked as he jumped over the back of the couch and settled next to you, arm around your shoulders as you placed your head on his chest.

You tapped your chin as you thought for a moment, smiling as you looked up at the man next to you. “Tangled!”

Matt shook his head as he laughed. You always chose Tangled if the offer was on the table and he never complained, finding a sense of comfort from the movie ever since you two got together.

As Matt turned the movie on, and you both got comfortable with a bowl of popcorn next to Matt and various other snacks and drinks on the table, you both heard the front door swing open.

“No dude, you definitely cheated! I would’ve won both rounds if you didn’t do the stupid granny.” Chris complained as Nate and Nick followed behind him, scoffing and arguing back at the claim.

Matt groaned as he ran a hand down his face, annoyed at the intrusion and the fact that the group obviously didn’t listen to his pleads. “Oh my fucking- Can you guys be quiet or go somewhere else? I specifically told you guys to stay out so we could have a movie night!” Matt exclaimed as the three men stood in the living room, looking at the two of you together.

“Sorry, but we can’t bowl all night, plus Nick was bored so we just got a Uber back here.” Nate explained as he walked behind Matt and looked at the screen. “Ooh! You’re watching-“

“Tangled! Oh my god!” Chris said, rushing over to the other side of the couch, grabbing a blanket and getting comfy, already having his shoes off and eyes glued to the screen. You shook your head as you laughed at him, Nick soon invested as well as he sat down next to you and stole some of your blanket. Nate shook his head as he went to the fridge and got a Pepsi for himself and Chris.

“Ok, nice seeing you guys, now leave. This isn’t “date night plus the guys!”, this is date night with me and my beautiful girlfriend! Now fuck off!” Matt hissed out as Chris nodded along, yet not making eye contact once as for his eyes were still connected to the screen in front of him.

“But you have pizza! And plus i bet y/n doesn’t mind, right?” Nate asked after as he looked at you with wide eyes, full of hesitation and hope, slowly grabbing a piece of pizza from the box on the table.

Laughing at the situation, you shook your head as you leant into Matt’s embrace more. “The more the merrier!”

“Thank god, I’m already comfortable and I forgot how good this movie was.” Nick said as he leaned onto you for support as he grabbed chocolate that was already on the table.

Sighing, Matt buried his face into your neck, whining in annoyance as his brothers and best friend sat in the room, interrupting something he specifically told them not to.

“Love? what’s wrong?” You whispered at him, rubbing the back of his head as he nuzzled deeper into your neck and wrapped you up tighter in his embrace.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be only us, but these idiots always need to be involved with whatever the others have going on.” Matt whispered to you, placing a gentle kiss on your jaw as you smiled down at him.

“It’s ok baby, I promise. As long as you’re here, I’m good. They’re fun to have around…. when their not being annoying-“

“I heard that!” Chris commented, his eyes never leaving the colorful screen as the animated movie continued.

“She isn’t wrong.” Nick added, offering you a piece of chocolate you politely declined.

Matt sighed once again, and took in the scene. His younger brother on the edge of his seat, intrigued with a movie he’s seen how many times with his best friend next to him. The oldest leaning against you as he snacked on chocolate and made little comments at how hot Flynn was, which made all of you roll your eyes at one point. And finally you, snuggled up under the blanket with him, drowning in his hoodie you had slipped on earlier while he held you tightly.

Sighing, Matt melted into the couch cushions and placed a kiss on your head, accepting what has become of the date he planned.

“I guess this isn’t too bad.”

[cottonlemonade]

hi!! I'm gonna take menu b with strawberry and matcha roll and im gonna sit next to tsuki!😊 thank you!!(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Don’t Call Me That

request: fluffy, jealous crush Tsukki, as manager

____________________________________________

Kei set up the net, caught in a conversation he wished he hadn’t started. Hinata was going on and on and on about a new technique he was dying to try, while Yamaguchi thankfully indulged him and asked questions, leaving Kei the opportunity to throw glances at the entrance of the gym.

Originally, he had meant to wait close to the door, just in case you needed help carrying something. He wouldn’t have offered his help readily, of course, but you were usually quick to ask one of the team members to jump in when things got too difficult to balance.

To be honest, he didn’t even know why he bothered. Sure, your smile made him think of a sunrise over a field of wildflowers in late summer - but god, you were annoying. Always bright, always prepared to build up the team with an inspirational speech that rivaled Takeda sensei, always eager to support wherever you could, as if this wasn’t just a stupid club.

The other first years started following you around like puppies after their initial introduction, while Nishinoya and Tanaka were extra protective of their fellow second year. You finally arrived, closely followed by Ennoshita and Narita. For quite some time now, Kei had tried to figure out if Narita was maybe more than a friend to you, but you were probably just being nice, right? He was too bland for you. But an image began building in his mind of the other middle blocker pulling you into an empty classroom, one hand on your plump hip, the other cupping your chubby cheek, leaning down to-

“Tsukki, are you there? You gotta pull the string to-“

“Don‘t call me that!“, Kei snapped at the idiot tangerine, but did as he was told, “How many times do I have to tell you I hate that nickname!“

“Geez, fine, calm down - Suckyshima.“, Hinata mumbled and ran away screaming a second later when Kei threw him a murderous glare.

A moment later the team was called to assemble for a pre-practice pep talk from the coach and Kei was actually much more interested in the way you played with your necklace than paying any attention. For a split second he wondered if it might have been a gift from a boyfriend, Narita or otherwise and his already sour mood turned even darker.

“So, that‘s our goal for today. Tsukishima and Hinata, are you ready to try this block?“, the coach asked and Kei did a double take upon being spoken to directly. Even though he had no idea what had been discussed, he nodded and turned to get started on the warm up when you said, “Good luck, Shoyo-kun! You too, Tsukki-kun!“

Kei froze for a second, then continued walking, feeling his legs beginning to wobble slightly.

“Hey, she called you “Tsukki”, Tsukki.“, Hinata said, catching up to him and bouncing along.

“Sharp as ever.“, Kei muttered.

“Why isn‘t she getting yelled at? You said you were going to make sure my bloodline ends with me if I called you “Tsukki“ again! Why isn‘t she getting threatened!? Hm? Tsukkiiii~“

____________________________________________

a/n: Tsukki going for a girl older than him - scandalous! Thank you so much for the request 🌟 I hope you enjoyed it!

[moodymisty]

Hi there! Big fan of your primarch fanfic, and I have a Guilliman request. (Because I am obsessed with this man.) I would love a Guilliman + FemReader fic where our favorite calm, reserved primarch goes FERAL after seeing his lover hurt or threatened. Bonus points if said lover finds it surprisingly sexy and NSFW times result. Thank you!

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: therhxkffkfkfkf I love angry Primarchs

Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: I didn’t do full nsfw but it is sort of handsy and lewd, I just thought it flowed better I hope it’s saucy enough for you, Groping, Grinding

Guilliman's boots touch the planet's surface, and he hears his men follow moments after. They had insisted they follow him, and he allowed it only if they wouldn't slow him down. He'd leave them behind if they did.

"Lady Guilliman is in a separate part of the fortress with her retinue,” An Ultramarine says, keeping up with his strides. “They've already cleared a good portion of the area. They said she was hit with some shrapnel, but she insists she's fine. They agree it's a just a flesh wound."

To hear that negotiations had dissolved into a firefight had been nothing short of a nightmare. He knows his men will have no issue with this, but he fears a stray bolter round nicking your much softer skin, or something worse.

"Where is the instigator of all of this."

His men exert slightly more effort that usual to keep up with Guilliman's enraged strides, a few bolter shots being fired for cover as he walks without a care.

"The planet's high lords? They've apparently barricaded themself at the top of the fortress with antitank weaponry. The men were focused on securing the area before pursuing them given that they’ve trapped themselves." Guilliman knows that's the correct choice; However in the blinding fire of his anger he doesn't care in the slightest.

"We are going up there. I'm going to rip them apart."

One of his men looks up at him with a furrowed, confused brow, but doesn't comment; Guilliman notices. He supposes the anger he's feeling is foreign to them. Perhaps if he was injured, they might feel something close to what he is feeling, though still abit different.

Guilliman storms through the massive fortress with little issue, stomping out leftover, separated groups of enemy forces along the way. While equipped with strong firepower they were at the end of the day baseline humans, and stood no chance against not only Astartes, but a primarch.

Once Guilliman arrived at the peak of the fortress where the high lords were hiding, including the one who had instigated this by shooting directly at you, Guilliman barged in with little care.

The High Lords were absolutely horrified, stuck like fish in a barrel with a primarch and three of his astartes. They presumably hadn’t expected the primarch to care so deeply about one person, willing to tear everything asunder just for them.

"You are all going to pay for what you've done to her. Now you get me."

Guilliman’s return to you was more than a blessing, after so much chaos. While logically the denizens of this planet stood no chance against the Ultramarines, the fear of being still hit by something and killed was always present.

Afterall you had already been nicked by some shrapnel, but the cut had largely stopped bleeding by now.

Guilliman turns to his men as he enters. Not before quickly approaching you however, silently looking you over before picking you up into his arms.

“You know your orders. Let us conclude this mess.”

They give him respectful nods and take their leave, ready to do the work they were made for.

You however are taken by Guilliman and guided back to a thunderhawk, one that brings you back to the Macgragge’s Honour within what feels like moments. It’s deathly silent the entire time, and you can feel Guilliman fuming. His anger fills the air, mixed with the intensity of a primarch aura that can make most falter.

He fumes and boils in his armor the entire time he pushes you towards his study, which surprises you. You would’ve thought he’d send you right to the apothecary, but perhaps he doesn’t see the need. You don’t either, the cut isn’t even bad enough to need sealing or bandaging.

The moment he closes the door you feel his emotions bubble over, watching him clench his fists tight as he punches the wall. It gives way underneath his fist.

“They think themselves strong enough to try and attack m-“ Guilliman stops himself, turning to you.

There’s a small smattering of blood on his cheek and the collar of his chestplate. You feel your heart skip a beat, and not for the reasons you might assume.

“Your heart; Are you afraid still? I… That wasn’t my intention.”

Guilliman hesitates. The last thing he would want is to make you fear him the way so many others so. Primarch voices are loud and his stature in full armor looms over everyone else in the room like-

Guilliman pays more attention and realizes that your breathing is also heavier, your face looks warm, and you can’t look him in the eyes. You look at his chestplate instead of his face, hands wringing. Had it been just these clues, Guilliman might not have figured it out, but when he smells the lightest, sweet scent that he finds oh so familiar, one that he’d also smelled in the Thunderhawk but brushed it away as nothing, he realizes why you’re so flighty.

You weren’t just scared, you were also aroused. By him.

Guilliman had recently learned that you enjoy it when he throws his weight around with you; When he pushes you down, pulls at you, throws you onto your shared bed. But he hasn’t realized that his angry, defensive nature might also trigger this in you, and make you silently beg for him even so soon after you had been in danger.

Perhaps it’s his innate speed, but it feels like a blink before he throws you onto his desk and places his hands on either side of your body. His lips smash against yours, your back arching as your own hands grip the collar of his armor.

“Robout-“

His kisses are so rough and demanding, you can already feel your lips becoming puffy and well kissed only moments later. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, as one of his hands moves to grab your thigh. He pulls it away to force your legs to part, giving your to press that same armored hand against your clothed sex.

The unyielding feeling of his cold armor so suddenly against you makes you hips writhe, trying to push harder against it. Guilliman can feel you mewl in his mouth, hot breath fanning across his skin.

He didn’t know how to feel about how his aggression, his protection, makes you so wet and wanting for him, but he knows he can’t deny the way it makes his cock painfully throb against his own unyielding armor.

“You enjoy this too much,” He growls against your lips, pushing his fingers and palm harder against your cunt through the fabric of your clothing and listening to you cry for more. With how large his hand is, he can cup the entirely of your clothes cunt with ease. “So many are afraid of a Primarch’s anger, but you…”

The desk creaks underneath his hand, teeth catching your lip roughly between his teeth as your legs kick uselessly. Everything feels so cold against you even through your clothing; His armor, the desk, the air. You can’t stop the way you shiver.

But you still want more, your cunt throbs tensing around nothing and yearning for him to fill you the way only he can. Your hands pull at his armor, unable to move it or him even a fraction, but he can tell you’re doing it.

Guilliman however suddenly pulls away, removing his hand from between your legs.

“I need to remove my armor. I will be back.” You look up at him wide eyed and shocked, cunt still throbbing.

“You’re leaving? I-“

“You will wait here until I’m back. Do not move,”

He starts rounding the desk, watching with dark eyes as you lay on it spread out just for him; Clothes wrinkled and asunder. An image he’s had in the recesses of his mind for awhile, and he’s glad to have it come true.

“If anyone tries to enter tell them that I am not here, and I forbade them from entering.”

The last thing he wants is for anyone else to see you like this. You’re splayed across his desk, no one else’s. You want for only him, you yearn for the way he does whatever it takes to keep you safe.

With that Guilliman leaves you alone to strip away his armor, leaving you to boil in his study alone with the feeling your underwear wet and sticky against your skin, as you wait for him to return.

[cha-melodius]

firstprince + 💘 please and thank you kindly ☺️

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss  (HI ROOP. please enjoy some fake relationship silliness, inspired by the fact that it's a million degrees outside. read all the kiss ficlets)

“Hey, you wanna fuck with my homophobic soon-to-be-ex boss?”

In theory, yes, he’s always up for fucking with homophobes, but the wicked grin on Alex’s face should have told him that this would be a bad idea.

So of course, Henry agrees.

~~~

It’s a pool party. It’s a bloody pool party in the Hamptons and Henry is not going to survive Alex Claremont-Diaz in his ridiculously tiny swimming trunks. Those shorts are criminal, actually. He’s especially not going to survive Alex plopping down on the lounge chair next to him and passing a bottle of sun cream over his shoulder.

“Do my back, would you?” Henry follows Alex’s line of sight over to where his soon-to-be-former boss is frowning at them disapprovingly, and Alex tosses a cheeky grin back at him. “Baby?”

Absolutely no survivors, to be certain.

Henry dutifully takes the bottle and smooths the cream over Alex’s back, careful not to miss any spots, and if he lingers a little long in doing so, well, it’s just to sell the deception. He almost thinks he feels Alex shiver a little as Henry’s fingers brush along the waistband of his trunks, but that’s impossible—it’s ridiculously warm out. Then he allows Alex to put sun cream on his back, which is horrible, terrible, the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, in fact.

(He never, ever wants it to stop.)

~~~

Somehow, Henry lets himself be dragged into the pool and talked into a game of chicken. He’s led to understand that usually it would be a woman sitting on a man’s shoulders, but one of Alex’s coworkers is a terrifying woman with long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s very confident she can take Alex and Henry down. Her husband—a lovely chap and fellow Brit, who Henry spent quite a bit of time talking to earlier—gives Henry an apologetic look for what is about to happen. Alex is, of course, undeterred.

The battle is hard fought and, look—Henry isn’t opposed to being strangled by Alex’s thighs, but he didn’t imagine it would be like this. Eventually Zahra is victorious, sending Alex crashing into the pool, and of course he drags Henry along with him. They come up spluttering, and Alex loops his arms around Henry’s neck, pulling him close as they bob in the water, catching their breath.

“Hey,” Alex breathes, his face way too close to Henry’s. “Kiss me?”

Henry swallows hard and glances around, but he can’t see Alex’s boss anywhere. “Because your boss is watching?” he asks.

“Because I want you to,” Alex says, as if it’s that simple.

Maybe it is. Henry doesn’t let himself overthink it, for once; he leans in, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist, and kisses him. Slides their mouths together, sweet and slow, restrained but just heated enough to promise more.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Alex asks when they part.

“Ok.”

“I didn’t just ask you to this to fuck with my boss.”

Henry’s heart is in this throat. “No?”

“No, baby,” Alex says laughing a little. “I want this to be real.” He pauses, his eyebrows crinkling uncertainly. “If… you do, too?”

Henry kisses him again, which he figures is answer enough.

[yrqrnc]

; shall we look at the moon, my little loon?

who would’ve known — existing under the stars with hwang hyunjin would, one day, become your favorite memory? perhaps, to love and be loved was never a myth, after all.

The sound of your laugh is light in the air; it flows with the wind and flutters up to the moon up above. Hyunjin is sure she loves it too, as he gazes at you with city-lights sparkling in his eyes, the same way you were gazing at the stars and their slow dance above, and he smiles.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever smile at anyone else the way he does at you and because of you.

And he thinks, perhaps taking you away from the loud crowd and city life, to here, this dreamscape that only the two of you know, was the best idea he’s ever had.

Life had been heavy, lately, for the both of you. You had your responsibilities to handle, your job, your bills, the budget, people around you whom you loved. You had your own struggles that weighed down on you, and if he’s sky-clear honest, he’s always admired how you manage to find your inner strength and hold onto it until it gets better again.

For him, you are that strength.

He’d never even realized it.

Falling in love with you had never felt like falling at all. It had felt like walking into a place that he was never really looking for, but then suddenly, realizing it had everything he had ever wished for. It felt like finding purpose; he found home, solace, strength, inspiration, all forms of art, and every sphere of love where he found you.

He would never tell you that, but as he watches you sway along without a care in the world to the soft tunes that blast out from the speaker he had brought to make the date better, he just really, really hopes with his entire being — that you have a fraction of idea of how loved you are, not only—though especially—by him, but numerous others as well.

You look so at peace in this moment. Your eyes are fixed onto the constellations above as you try to name each one of them, and your head tilts in the slightest as you struggle to remember the title of that particular cluster of stars.

And to him, you look just like a dream. His dream.

Their existence alone is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, whispers his heart, even as his head goes silent.

Suddenly, the playlist gets shuffled, and one of your favorite songs starts playing. And he thanks the universe for it, because he adores how your eyes shift from the stars to the speaker just slightly, and the way they light up with familiarity, and how, after that, for a quick moment, you just close your eyes shut from any kind of distraction, and let the beats and lyrics that you know by heart flow into your body as you stand under the freckled twilight sky.

And all along, he simply watches you exist, and with every second that slips away like that, he sinks deeper in love with you.

Down, down, and down,

but it feels like floating.

He could look at you a thousand times, from a thousand different lights, in thousand different places and under thousand different circumstances, and he knows he’d still love you either way, just the same – if not more – but never less.

Your eyes glisten with a playful fire as you turn your head over to glance at him, then, before he can process it, you grab his hands to pull him up and close for a dance. The fond look is never erased from his face.

If the stars above you could dance infinitely, so in love and so in peace, unbothered of taking any face of grace or perfection, why couldn’t you?

So, you dance. One hand of yours lays on his shoulder, slipping down to his chest sneakily, and the other holds on to one of his, as he grabs onto your waist with the gentlest of touches. You might have been the one that pulled him up, but he leads you with the steps.

You follow his footsteps mindlessly; your eyes trail over his face as you drink in every mole on his face and every scratch, and every faded crease. How his eyes shine an earthy brown in the nature, and how they crinkle into the prettiest crescent moon as he smiles.

You steal away some very few stars from the sparks above your existence, hide them in your heart and hold them closely, and secretly wish on them that you’ll forever be the only one who’ll ever get to see these details, and his face and him up so close.

Mindlessness, however, leads to silly mistakes, and it pushes you to step on his feet accidentally, not once but twice, too, almost tripping both of you clumsily. His laugh rings out into the open night sky and echoes out into the trees, and you follow, punching his chest with every intention of doing it when he teases you about how you need to step up on your dancing skills instead of him.

“Come on, love, we have an audience. Bring out the grace now. Dance with me. See, one step here, here, there and then…”

The audience he refers to, gaze down at the two young lovers in time in form of the universe and its children.

The moon smiles down softly, reminiscing of her own old times where she could float in the same sky as the sun, and the stars giggle and bicker and tease and whisper about you, and it’s all perfect.

This is what bliss looks like, this is how it feels. It is not the absence of sadness; it is the presence of love, and hope, and contentment, and peace, and joy, and you.

The wind is sweet, and your laugh is lovely to his ears, and he loves how you keep stepping on his toes every now and then, still, and now, as he holds your face in his hands, gently tucking your hair away from your face, and kisses you with soft lips and an even softer heart for you —

Hyunjin prays that this moment lasts an eternity, and that he gets to forever exist in time with you like this.

[norlestappen]

Idea/Request/Me begging you

Tall!Model!Reader X Yuki Tsunoda. With reader being significantly taller than him (like 5'9) and just generally being a goddess.

And she's on the paddock being the biggest Yuki defender of all time and supporting him in whatever he does while being all cutesy about him. Like small man with anger issues and tall woman yelling "Go get 'em sweetie" in the background.

Please and thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Hello my bestie, here is your long awaited story, i decided to only put a bit in, maybe a part 2 if wanted "Yukinoooo, I am hungryy" / Yuki Tsunoda x tall!y/n

summary: you are joining your boyfriend Yuki in the paddock and you are just too much of a hot couple than anyone can ever handle Pairing: Yuki x y/n

warnings: too much cuteness, sadly no smut yet

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

Y/n POV:

You would never get used to the fact your boyfriend was literally perfection. From his beautiful eyes to the way his Japanese would make you weak, just everything about him made you want to always kiss him, never letting him go. That was, of course, not always possible since you wouldn’t fit into the cockpit with him, you did on the other hand fit perfectly on his cock though. 

He would push you onto him, making you ride him until you were out of energy, just needing you as close as possible for as long as he could. He needed you so much, it might sound unhealthy to others, but for you two it just worked. 

Pierre made it his mission the entire flight to call you two out as you argued over what you would wear to the paddock. While Yuki liked showing you off to others, he hated it when people saw how hot you looked, so he would always stand in front of you protectively. The funniest thing in that aspect is that Yuki could barely cover your breasts with his head since the height difference was just a bit too much than usual. 

Luckily, all four of you landed a few days prior to the race in Miami, which gave you time to recover from the adaption to new time zones. The first two days were always the hardest for you. As soon as you entered the hotel room with Yuki, he just made you lay in bed, not caring about your baggage at this given moment. He just needed to hold you, making sure you were right by his side.

So, this is what you did the following days, just laying in bed, taking walks together by holding hands, always stopping to kiss while you were photographed for most parts of it. So, when you wake up in the early morning of Friday, you know the hard part is coming up. Being a good WAG, looking the prettiest you can, supporting your boyfriend, possibly fighting the team principle again. 

You always hated getting a cab to the racetrack, so you made Yuki drive like a maniac through Miami’s streets and while most would be terrified of his aggressive driving style, you just loved those wild car rides with your boyfriend. Sharing sweet and small kisses whenever you encountered red traffic lights. Nevertheless, one of his hands always to touch your thighs, squeezing you softly to reassure himself that you were there. 

“Babe, why can’t I just quitttt? I want to lay in bed with you all day and just cuddle, making you feel good and have breakfast, lunch, and dinner on our bed” Yuki pouted as he was parking the car directly at the entrance of the paddock. “Well, one of us needs to drive fast cars and it won’t be me because my neck game is by far not as strong as yours” You smirk at Yuki as he almost jumps at you kissing him.

Soon you had to leave the car, journalists tried crowding you as you met up with Michael, his personal trainer. You always felt like a queen going through the paddock, Yuki loved seeing you in heels, making your height even more prominent than it already was. It was one thing that Yuki has always loved about you, your height.

As soon as you got into the motorhome, Yuki basically dragged you along to his driver’s room, claiming to have some privacy with you. Not like you didn’t do that already for the past days, but who would complain to being alone with a Yuki Tsunoda in a small room? Definitely not you, the one who was actively dating the hottest driver on the grid.

As you sat down on the small couch, Yuki made a call to get some food. “Yukinoooo, I am hungryyy and I want cuddles too” You looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes, knowing it works like a charm in your favor every time. “Shhh, I am trying to get us food asap but you need to be a bit patient” And that is the moment where Yuki spoke to someone in Italian for some reason while sitting down on your lap, legs on either side of you while smirking, knowing it always turns you on when he speaks different languages. You put your hands around his waist, looking intensively at him when he put his phone on the coffee table next to you. “Apparently we should have some food within the next 15 minutes, so lots of time to pass while we wait for some carbs” Both of you started giggling all of a sudden, just simply staring at each other, fully in love and awe. ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Plsss give me feedback on it, i just truly need some opinions on my writing, idk why i sometimes feel so insecure but i hope you all love it, especially the Yuki girliesss on here <3 <3 <3 <3

[gothcsz]

Dangerous Woman | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~9k wc | Part 2 of The Boy is Mine | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier does something that warrants a second visit.

Tags: stalking, lots of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (we're taking it raw), some plot snuck into the porn (sorry not sorry), spanking, light slapping, slight breeding kink..., some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: primas, we're back to being delusional! thanks so so so much for all the lovin the boy is mine got like i'm on my knees for each and every one of u fr 🧎🏽‍♀️ hehe i do plan on posting a final part to wrap this up btw. love the dynamic between these two 🖤 did javi match your freak?! did he match your nasty?!

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You quit going to his apartment entirely. He expects you to meet him there again, and while the urge to return and take things all the way is enticing as hell; you keep yourself from doing so.

Well, technically, you did go by one time and that visit was the reason why you swore the rest of them off.

You watched from the front seat of your car, further down on the other side of the street, as he rested his forearms against the railing; a lit cigarette between his lips while he stared off into the distance.

Your handsome man who somehow looked sexier under distress. Even from how far away you were you could see those defined, prominent wrinkles between his brows.

He was waiting for you. Looking out into the city and wishing that you were prancing your way back to him.

You wondered then if that was a new ritual of his. If he stood out on his balcony every night in hopes of seeing you again. It made your heart soar and goosebumps to erupt along your skin. 

But you want to drive him crazy with your absence, to have him question if what happened that night in his bedroom was as real as it felt. Gaslighting himself into believing it was all just a dream, something his conscience had made up to relieve him temporarily of the hardships of his job.

Part of the sick enjoyment you get comes from your cat and mouse game, with you being the gamemaster. The one who sets the rules and decides when plays are allowed to be made.

You want him to be vigilant, to shine a light against every shadow that crosses his path in hopes that it’s you, the sexy little thing that’s been preying on him for longer than he knows. 

You want to edge him with the anticipation of your next move.

This move won’t happen until further down the line. Things have been tense in the circumstances that overlap both of your careers. Government distrust grows more and more by the day, the drug traffickers get richer by the second.

You just haven’t had the time to follow him as thoroughly as you have been.

Which is why you sunk your claws into someone in his inner circle, a Neil Stoddard that works directly beneath your agent. It had taken you a few tries, causally bumping into him at the market or during a morning jog, until enough rapport was built and you finally convinced him to feed you information on DEA operations.

He was hesitant at first, but you’ve been told that you can be very persuasive; always knowing exactly what to say, which cadence to use and how to shift your body language to match the conversation. Showcasing your skill, you manage to get just about every little detail that you can from the younger agent before anyone else.

It benefits you both in your career and in your efforts to keep tabs on him.

You wonder if he thinks about you in the same way you do him. Does he constantly replay that rainy night in his head? Does he fuck his fist and close his eyes to think of you, the mysterious woman who broke into his apartment just to get on her knees for him? Swallowed his soul in its entirety and then disappeared off into the night?

Fuck, you hope so, because with each day that passes–– you fall deeper in love with Javier Peña.

You’re walking home from work one day, an extra pep in your step at the good news that one of your projects from graduate school is being looked at by some big name publishers back stateside. The excitement of getting your work published by a well known and reputable paper further inflates your ego and the passion that you have for your career.

So you decide to buy something nice for yourself, a materialized pat on the back for being so good at what you do. You enter a quaint antique store that’s nestled in the small plaza a few blocks from your apartment building, eyeing some of the merchandise they have on display.

You’re contemplating whether you want to purchase a set of stained glass table lamps when a distinct glint catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You turn to see a beautiful engagement ring on display behind the glass counter, its shimmer immediately drawing you to it. You set the lamps down carefully, walking over to the counter to get a better look at the piece of jewelry.

The ring’s silver band is elegantly slender. Intricate filigree work adorns the outer surface with delicate patterns of vines and tiny flowers that spiral gracefully around it. 

At the center sits a stunning marquise cut diamond, its facets catching the light in a soft, romantic sparkle.

You stare at it in awe, imagining it around your finger after he slips it on, still on one knee, while those captivating brown eyes of his stare up at you in nothing but pure love and adoration.

His fiancée. His wife.

Calling the attendant over, she happily lets you try it on incase it needs to be resized.

It doesn’t. It fits just right, making your hand look very lovely. You wriggle your fingers, giggling as it catches the light.

You purchase it, obviously, having her place it in a small, velvety box that you slide into your bag as you thank her for her help; leaving the shop just to walk a few stores down to where they sell lingerie.

There, you buy a new outfit–– this one much more risque than the leather dress that’s neatly tucked away in your closet.

With a small dent in your account, your career on the path of blossoming, and your delusions for him reaching another peak; you go home and plan your next move.

Stoddard tells you about the raid planned to capture Miguel Rodríguez and the fake out involved, since the last time they had targeted him–– bureaucratic bullshit had gotten in the way and prevented the arrest. Something involving the man hiding in the walls and a DEA agent using a sledgehammer to get him out.

Apparently there’s a mole within the Colombian government that’s making it hard to bring the narcos to justice. What’s new? Amidst all this, he mentions how the boss is going to stay behind while everyone else in the department travels to Cali.

This bit of information piques your interest but you keep your reaction neutral. The velvet box in your bag is burning a hole through the leather, reminding you of its existence. You haven’t worn the ring since you tried it on, saving it for the perfect moment.

Like the one that’s just manifested itself.

You get the details of this operation, specifically paying attention to the times so you know at what pace you’ll have to work with.

If your calculations are correct, he’d be all alone in the office well into the night.

You’re an adrenaline junky, clearly, since the idea of sneaking into a government building just to seek pleasure from the DEA attaché has your entire body crackling with electricity.

You thank him as you go your separate ways. The raid is in two days, which will give you more than enough time to get prepared.

Getting ready mellows you out entirely, the only nerves you feel are those of excitement at the prospect of seeing your agent tonight. You’re currently in the bath, your favorite candle lit and on your second glass of wine.

It’d be a massive win for him if they’re able to follow through with the plan. Two of the head honchos in cuffs and behind bars, even if it was the lax walls of a Colombian prison.

Surely it warrants some kind of reward. You did tell him that he’d see you again whenever he did something that was worth your presence. Worth your body.

It could have come sooner, but between the disappearance of Guillermo Pallomari, Christina Jurado’s kidnapping and then Franklin Jurado’s death; fate had other plans.

He just couldn’t catch a break. For his sake, you hope they’re able to get that motherfucker tonight.

Finishing up in the bath, your skin is smooth like the delicate petals of a flower and you smell like a candy shop, all hydrated and plump and ready to be ravaged.

You go through the motions of doing your hair and makeup, this time aiming for a bolder look.

Sharp cat eye liner, classic red lip, thick lashes. You want to mimic the sultry models you see in the high-end magazines.

Dolling yourself up for him is part of your foreplay. You enjoy watching your own transformation, going from a steadfast journalist to a seductive minx at the wave of a makeup brush.

Would he find you attractive? Not your feline alter ego but the real you. The one that camps out in her car more often than not to stalk him, fast food wrappers littering the seats. The woman who broke into his apartment and masturbated using his pillows. The woman using his subordinate to get information about him and his highly classified work operations.

Would the illusion break after so many encounters? Would the allure of your salacious activities dim until that fire is completely smothered with the reality of what you’ve been doing?

Would he even want you if he knew the truth?

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, not even realizing your eyes have glazed over with tears at these thoughts. Your heart aches at the nonexistent rejection.

No, snap out of it. Now is not the time to be thinking of this shit.

Shaking your head, you swiftly get your act together and change into your outfit for the night.

The lingerie set is the epitome of classic elegance with a sexy edge. It consists of a bra, panties, and a garter belt, each piece meticulously designed to celebrate your natural curves and skin tone.

The bra is a balconette style, the cups a luxurious black lace with intricate floral patterns, sheer enough to tease yet opaque enough to leave some things to the imagination. The underwire provides a gentle lift, enhancing the shape of your breasts, while the straps, adorned with tiny satin bows, add a touch of femininity.

The matching panties are a cheeky bikini cut. The front panel is made from the same black lace as the bra, with a subtle scalloped edge that sits gently against your hips. The back is a sheer mesh, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin with a small satin bow at the waistband. Your ass looks so good.

The garter belt is the pièce de résistance, tying the entire set together. It sits high on your waist, cinching in to create an hourglass silhouette. Four straps extend down, each finished with satin ribbon accents to hold up your thigh-high stockings securely.

You add the accessories: diamond earrings gifted to you by your grandmother, your simple black stilettos and finally–– the ring you purchased at the antique store.

Now in front of a full length mirror, you can’t help but run your hands all over your body. Fuck looking like the high end models from Vogue–– you resemble a god damn Playboy star; sexy enough to warrant your very own centerfold in the magazine.

Maybe you should invest in some bunny ears. Try and be a conejita for one night.

This is what you’d wear on your wedding night, you think, eyes not leaving your reflection as the ring twinkles beneath your bedroom lights. You wouldn’t even wear it in white, the black lace an homage to the erotic start of your relationship with the DEA agent. Your husband.

Your cat mask sits on the bed, right next to your polaroid camera. After you finish eye fucking yourself, you crawl onto the matress and slip it on; obscuring your face in the sexiest way possible.

With all the fuckery he’s had to deal with as of late, you decided you were going to leave some souvenirs behind. A few visuals for him to look at during lonely nights instead of lolling around on his balcony like a neglected puppy.

You begin taking the photos, contorting your body into different erotic positions, getting the best angles. It all comes to you naturally, you’re good behind and in front of the camera.

After a dozen or so snaps of your tits, your ass, your thighs and some cheeky ones of your pretty cunt, you let them develop and take the mask off, putting on a basic satin slip dress to hide your lingerie. 

You were going to be out in a more public space, you didn’t want to risk something happening and for that to leave you basically naked in the streets of Bogotá.

Tossing your belongings into your bag, you drive to the embassy, parking around the back to keep your vehicle hidden from any prying eyes. How ironic. 

The familiar trench coat sits on your shoulders, tied close to keep your naughty outfit out of sight. Your bag hangs from the curve of the inside of your elbow, the kitten mask nestled at the bottom, just waiting for you to don it once more.

In this moment, you feel like one of those cliché romance tropes: surprising your husband at work with skimpy clothes under a fucking coat.

You snort at the realization, but you’re kind of loving this.

When you push open the door to the building, you notice how quiet and empty it is. At the large front desk, an older officer straightens his posture at your entrance.

“Identificación, por favor.”

You bite your lip, praying to god that this works, and dig into your bag to pull out your press lanyard. It has your name on it, what paper you work for along with a photograph that was taken your first day on the job.

You hand it over and he eyes it then you suspiciously, taking in your done up appearance.

“I’ve got some photographs developing in the lab here. Lost track of time at the office which is why I’m stopping by so late. I’ll just be in and out, no worries.” You explain in English with a gentle lilt, hoping that your status as an American will sway him into letting you up.

He hands you back your lanyard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone who isn't employed here in after a certain time. Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance at the denial, your skin prickling with frustration.

You have to see him tonight. No matter what. This senile idiot isn’t going to stop you.

“I didn’t want to do this…” You begin with a sigh, leaning forward against the desk and your coat opens up just enough for him to get a good look down your cleavage, “But I’m also here to visit my fiancé, mi prometido.” You bring your left hand up for him to see the ring that adorns your finger, “He’s been having some tough days and I wanted to surprise him. I’m sure you know him. Javier Peña.”

Now this gets his attention, snapping his gaze from ogling your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Ah, si, Javier Peña. El jefe de la DEA.”

You nod, seeing his resolve dissipating, and he lazily waves his hand, signaling that you’re good to go up.

“Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche.”

Fuck. Yes. Your nerves morph into excitement as you step into the elevator, hitting the button that goes to his floor.

Pretending to be his to a complete stranger has put you further into a mood, feeling your pulse quickening at the idea of doing it again. Of deceiving the world, warping reality to play into your delusions of being happily engaged to a man who doesn’t even know what you look like.

The elevator comes to a stop, the silver doors opening up to a narrow hallway with various rooms and offices on either side. If you recall correctly, his is further down the hall which is perfect because you need to set your belongings down before making your grand entrance.

You find a place for your things behind the stairwell door, knowing that’s how you’re going to make your escape tonight. You didn’t want to walk past the security guard again and you didn’t want to give him enough time to chase you down into the elevator.

You strip the satin dress, stuffing it into your bag and leaving you just in your undergarments. The polaroids you took are nestled into an envelope and put into the pocket of your trench coat once you have it back on, pulling out your mask and gently bringing it over your face. You apply one final stroke of red lipstick and slip the mesh gloves over your fingers before sneaking your way down the hall.

You press your back against the wall, the tap of your heels muted due to the carpeted floor. Fluttering your eyes close, you force your brain to focus on sound— trying to discern if he is here alone or if he has company.

After a few minutes of listening, you come to the conclusion that he is alone so you just barely poke your head around the corner, eyes scanning the dark room.

It looks like a typical office. Desks sprawled about, a bigger one at the front which you assume to be the secretary’s. The usual fluorescents are dimmed, bathing the room in a transparent darkness.

Across the space is his personal office. It looks like a giant fishbowl at the end of the room, giant windows lining every wall. The blinds are open, giving you a good view of him sitting at the edge of his desk, the phone pressed up to his ear while his large hand nurses a glass of his favorite amber liquor, the familiar cigarette hanging from pointer and middle finger.

You hum diligently. How is he always so fucking handsome?

With catlike suaveness, you move across the room and closer to his office, noticing that the door is ajar, giving you the opportunity to listen in on the call.

Your eyes flit up to the analog clock that hangs on the opposite wall. They’re about to move in on Miguel. 

The tension of this moment, the pure suspense does nothing but aid you and your sexual desires. Whatever news he gets, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be here to console him… with open arms, and open legs, and an open mouth.

Now that you’re closer, you get a better look at him in his typical work outfit. Rolled up white button up, midnight blue slacks and a loose tie. You wonder if he took off the jacket recently or if he’s been walking around like this for a few hours.

Small details like that matter to you. 

You can’t make out the garbling coming from the phone, but you do see the way he exhales and how his shoulders drop. He closes his eyes letting his wispy lashes fan across his skin. Tension rolls off his body in pure relief as he hears that Miguel Rodríguez has finally been arrested and Salcedo was able to get his family safe. 

He returns the phone to the receiver after a few moments, his thick fingers dragging along the plastic and the simple action has a puddle gathering in your panties.

Standing, he makes his way to the large window that overlooks the downtown area of the capitol, the bustling nightlife illuminating the black night sky.

His back is to you, much like the first time you did this dance, smoke from his cigarette curling around him as he takes lengthy drags in self reflection.

You just watch him, once more under his spell while you remain crouched in the shadows.

He’s been through so much, you know this. All the shit with Escobar, getting into bed with drug dealers and murderers just to catch him, only to be taken off right at the end then returning to finish off Cali. 

God that must have been so… depressing. You wish you would have known him then, before the job molded him into more of a cynic.

You just want to comfort and hold him. To love him with every molecule of your existence. 

Don’t worry, mi amor, I’m right here.

With that, you make your appearance, slowly standing and opening the door further.

The shift in the air at your presence has the hairs on the back of his neck standing and he turns his head to the side, catching your silhouette from his peripheral.

“Hola, gatita.”

His voice is smooth and it drips straight to your clit.

“Hey handsome.” 

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as he fully faces you. His brown eyes scan you from head to toe before he moves to sit in the large chair behind his desk, stubbing out his cigarette against the overfilled ashtray.

“You know…” He grunts out, resting his forearm atop of his head lazily as he leans back, “I prayed tonight’s operation would play out as planned. Not because of the metaphorical nail in Cali’s coffin, but in hopes that the win would lure you out.”

“Is that so?” Your heart is racing at his words and his evident craving for you. You try not falter as you slowly make your way around his office, shutting the blinds as you go.

There’s six windows. You’ve got five more to go.

“Mhm,” he hums, glossy eyes following you around the small space, “I just got confirmation that Miguel is in cuffs. On his way to Bogotá. And not even a few minutes later… well, here you are.”

“Here I am…” you flirt, moving on to the next window.

Then the fourth… third…

“How did you know?”

Only two more until you’re secluded in a little bubble of privacy.

“Call it a woman's intuition.”

His jaw ticks, not liking the answer but also not making a fuss out of it. Yet. He wants to enjoy you tonight, to become the keeper of time so he can drag out the hours and devote himself wholly to you. 

He’s missed you entirely too much. It’s a different feeling, this yearning that nips at him. Hardly ever does he think twice about the women he sleeps with.

But there’s something about you and how you popped up in his life so suddenly. How you turned his world on its head.

A kitten size hole has been left in his heart since you left him on his bedroom floor like a toy you weren’t interested in playing with anymore. 

You finish shutting the blinds, turning to face him as he manspreads himself out on his leather chair, rubbing his palm along his clothed thigh. It makes you want to pounce on it, to rub your wet pussy all over him in the same way you had gotten yourself off on his pillow.

You can practically feel his muscles contracting, the slight flex snapping a sharp orgasm out of you. 

“How are you going to thank me tonight, gatita?” His demeanor is vastly different than last time; he’s exuberating some of that dominance you know he possesses.

You remain silent, your gloved hand digging in the pocket of your coat as you pull out the envelope with your pictures in it, bringing it up to teasingly wave around.

His name is neatly written in cursive against the paper and his brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t expected an actual, tangible token of appreciation.

“This is for all your troubles. I know how hard it’s been in your world recently.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. Granted, anyone can observe that his job is fucking difficult without knowing the specifics.

But it’s the way you said it, as if you know more than what you should.

You place the envelope in between your teeth, some of your red lipstick smudging against it as your gaze remains locked on his. Your hands make work of the belt that’s kept your trench coat closed, tugging at it until it’s undone. 

The air is charged in pure lustful electricity as the fabric falls from your shoulders and pools around your feet.

“Congratulations on your arrest, agente.”

The grip on his whiskey glass tightens, golden eyes turning an onyx color as he drinks in your scandalous appearance like a man who’s been denied the basic necessity of water his entire life.

“You’re killing me here, bebita.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose beneath the mask and the sound of your flirty laugh has his lips pulling up into a small smile. 

“Come closer. Let me get a better look at you.”

You comply obediently, placing one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stops you.

“Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez.”

Oh shit, your legs turn into jello at the command and immediately you fall to your knees, feeling the scratchy carpet through your stockings. 

“Good girl. Me encanta cuando haces caso.” He praises and you moan softly, crawling towards him on your hands and knees, the envelope still between your teeth.

He takes a sip of his drink, still lounging and keeping a cool demeanor, yet not relenting with the heavy stare he’s laying on you.

His eyes make out every curve of your body, how the shimmer from your lotion makes you glimmer like a shooting star. If he could close his eyes and make a wish right now, he’d wish to know who you really are.

You stop once you’re in between his legs and he stares at you for a good long minute before leaning forward, finishing off whatever was left of his whiskey and setting the empty glass aside.

His thumb and index fingers pinch your chin, moving your jaw to tilt upward so he can look down into your lovely eyes. The pair he sees every time he closes his own.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

He pulls the envelope from your mouth, your saliva leaving it damp but he doesn’t give a damn.

He opens it up, eyebrows quirking at the sight of the polaroid photos as he carefully analyzes each and every single one.

You’re hanging on to every reaction he gives, the way his eyes map every inch of your figure and how you photographed yourself for him.

It’s there, in the pictures, that he sees it. The ring. His brows pull together in confusion, his gaze flickering down to your hands that are resting on your thighs.

“Let me see your left hand, baby.”

The statement has a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re certain he can see your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

Tentatively you bring your hand up, resting it on his knee. 

He sets the photos on his desk then delicately removes the glove, calloused fingers taking your hand in his as he eyes the beautiful ring.

“This wasn’t here last time… ¿te comprometiste, gatita? Been giving that dirty mouth and pussy to someone else, hmm?” He places a kiss on the diamond, his dark eyes now boring into you.

Your thighs clench together at the intensity of the moment and you shake your head earnestly, wanting to dispel those thoughts from his mind entirely.

There is no one else. Just you.

“No. It’s all for you Javi. I just—” Your words get jumbled up, lost on your tongue as the sexy facade slips for a moment while you try and find the right words to explain your possessive, matrimonial fantasy to him.

“All for me, huh?” He’s getting a kick out of your nervous state, dropping your hand and motioning for you to give him the other as he takes the glove off of it too.

“All for you. I’m yours.” You say in a shaky breath, “This ring… it’s my way of pretending that it’s all real… that you’re mine too.” That you want me the same way I want you.

Silence cloaks the both of you, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“You don’t have to pretend, gatita. It can be real. Just let me see you.” He goes to unmask you again but you turn your head to the side to keep him from doing so.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t be fun anymore.” Translation: I’m fucking scared that you’re not going to want the real me.

“So? We could have so much more fun without all this.” His pointer finger traces the lacey cat ears, “Not that I mind this. It’s sexy as hell.”

You look at him again, seeing the sincerity in his stare but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“No,” you repeat, a little harsher, “And if you try to take it off again I will disappear and you will never see me again.” 

You rise from the floor, trying to regain some of the control that’s slipped from your grasp. His jaw sets, hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling your body to him until his curved nose runs along your belly.

You gasp softly.

“Tan mala mi gatita bella. Luckily for you I like to work for it.”

He begins to place open mouthed kisses all over your midriff, biting the garter belt and pulling on it so it snaps back onto your skin with a delicious sting.

Your head falls onto your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips. You bring your fingers down to run through his hair, enjoying how silken it is.

His strong hands move from your waist around to your ass, digging his nails into the supple skin while he kneads it, groaning at how soft you are. 

“Didn’t get to touch on this pretty body last time. M’not gonna make that mistake again. Bend over the desk, muñequita. Ahora.” He slaps your ass harshly and you squeal, feeling a fresh wave of wetness soaking your folds.

He relinquishes his hold on you, rolling his chair back to give you room to situate yourself in the position he wants to see you in.

You bend at the waist, your heels making the posture look extra sensual as your breasts press against the wooden surface. 

You hold your breath, anticipating what he does next. 

He gets up from the chair, his touch light as a feather as he traces from the top of your spine down to where the arch in your back is. His hands then go to grip your wrists, moving them so they’re pinned at your lower back.

“Gonna have to keep those pretty pictures on me at all times, gatita. Can’t risk someone else seeing what’s mine. I’d have to kill them.”

His possessiveness further turns you on, and now you want for those pictures to fall in the wrong hands. Just to see how he’d react.

He leans over you, placing kisses on the back of your shoulders, moving your hair to the side to expose more of your flushed skin to him. You turn your head, resting your cheek against the desk as you briefly make eye contact with him.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You reply and he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

His lips trail down the same path he just traced, working his way down until he’s kneeled behind you, his breath fanning over your sopping pussy.

Your hips twitch instinctively, the pressure between your legs becoming unbearable. You need to feel him on you, whether it’s that sinful mouth of his or those deliciously thick fingers. Something, anything.

As if reading your mind, he brings his hand up to grope your backside enticingly, running his fingers beneath the band of your stockings, your skin feeling like melting butter beneath his touch.

“Been thinking about this since you left me last time. I should have kept you from leaving, should have buried myself in between your pretty legs instead.”

You lick your lips, “Then stop talking and do it.”

He wastes no time in landing a harsh slap against your ass, the skin rippling beneath the touch and you yelp out in both surprise and excitement.

“Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena.”

Another harsh slap, then another, then another. With each sting you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm which is a bit pathetic since he hasn’t even touched you like that and you’re already a buzzing, dripping fucking mess.

Each mewl that falls from your lips urges him to continue until he’s satisfied with the flush on each of your cheeks.

His fingers then move to fist the flimsy material of your panties, harshly tugging it until the thin fabric disappears in between your folds and the slight burn from it digging into your sensitive flesh does wonders for the throbbing at your core.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, bebita, just like I knew it’d be. Look at her, all wet for me. You like getting spanked, don’t you?”

You moan loudly, completely at a loss for words as you nod your head, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Had so much to say last time.” His palm connects with your ass again, coaxing a verbal reply from you.

“Yes Javi, fuck I love being spanked. Love feeling your hands all over me.”

He hums in content, slowly pulling down the ruined underwear off your legs until you’re fully exposed to him. “Since you won’t let me see your gorgeous face, I want you to show off this sweet cunt of yours. Spread her open for me, gatita.”

Exhaling shakily, you move your hands from your lower back until you've got a good grip on your own body, spreading your pussy open so he can see all of you.

For a split second you feel self conscious, not being able to see his reaction as you lay open and vulnerable to him.

That dissipates quickly, however, when you hear his satisfied keen then feel his nose skimming against the plush skin of the back of your thighs, kissing your wrist.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” He repeats your own words back to you, his voice low and deep and fuck are you in love with this man.

His hot, wet tongue licks the length of your slit and you can’t control the noise that you make, sighing his name out. Your skin erupts in chills when he does it again, the coarse hairs of his mustache prickling against your swollen cunt.

“Tan dulce. Dunno how you’re going to pull me off of her.”

And with that, he fully immerses himself in your pussy. He’s desperate, licking every inch of you that he can, savoring the tangy taste of your sex. He sucks onto your folds before hardening his tongue and rapidly flicking the tip against your clit. This has you struggling to keep yourself spread open for him, writhing at his ministrations.

“Oh my fucking god Javier your tongue, holy shit…” You babble, absolutely blissed out as his strong nose nuzzles against your entrance, the tip of it inside of you.

He groans, absolutely pussy drunk, rendering him a scrambled mess as he further buries his face into you, his big strong hands working your thighs, this time actually ripping your stockings.

Making out with your pussy passionately, your arousal drips from his mouth and down his jaw. He pulls back, a stringy glob of your fluids following like a cut open aloe vera plant. His thumb brushes against your clit as he spits onto your cunt, smearing his saliva all over before he slips two fingers inside you.

You clench immediately, crying out his name as his digits stretch you open. “So fucking tight gatita. You gonna squeeze my dick like this?”

Your knees just about give out at the promise of feeling his impressive girth inside of you. You hadn’t planned to actually fuck him tonight, not wanting to spoil the erotic nature of your visits by just giving him your pussy.

But now, as he’s ravishing and fingering you with such vigor and your vision beginning to blur as a sign of your incoming orgasm, you’re back tracking on that decision entirely.

You need him to fuck you. You might just die if he doesn’t.

He curls his fingers at your lack of response, the tips of them brushing up against that spot that makes you jolt, your chest rising from the desk while your thighs tighten.

“Stay put and answer the fucking question,” His free hand moves to roughly push you back down, his mouth joining his fingers on your pussy.

“Fuck yes baby. Gonna squeeze you til I milk every single drop out of that fat fucking cock.” You whimper like you’re in an X rated film, rocking your hips back against him as your stomach tightens. You’re so close.

Content with your answer, he slips in a third finger and harshly sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, moving his head side to side. That’s enough to have you spill all over him, your body trembling while a mixture of moans and sobs and cries of his name echo out of you like a cock-obsessed woman that needs to be sedated.

Your acrylics dig into the skin of your ass, leaving crescent shaped marks on the flesh.

He continues his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you out through your orgasm. The blood rushing in your ears keeps you from hearing all the filthy things he’s chanting against your skin.

The ring looks so beautiful next to your spent pussy, querida. All mine.

Pulling his fingers from you once you’ve come down from your high, he places a final, more gentle kiss against your clit and you twitch from the oversensitivity.

“Did so good muñeca.” He rises from his kneeled position, the soft sounds of his joints popping having you blink away some of the haziness from your eyes, your body completely limp against his desk.

His hands run along the length of your body before he’s tenderly flipping you over so you’re on your back, the edge of the desk uncomfortably digging into your waist.

Noticing this, he clears some space to make room then lifts you until you’re fully sprawled out on his desk looking absolutely wrecked.

His mustache is damp with your release, lips swollen from him losing himself in the taste of you and drinking all that you have to offer him. Brown eyes remain dark, gaze swimming with longing.

“So handsome…” you mutter dreamily as he hovers over you, his thumb gently caressing the part of your cheek that isn’t covered by the mask.

“I wish you would let me get a good look at you, gatita.” He leans in, kissing your chin then your jaw until he’s trailing down onto the soft skin of your neck.

“Javi…” you sigh out, not only because his lips feel fucking divine but also because you don’t want to have this conversation again.

“I know, I know. You’ll disappear and I’ll never see you again. I got it the first time.”

He cups your breasts in his hands, gently kneading them as he licks down your sternum. He snakes a hand behind you and you arch your back, letting him expertly undo your bra.

The straps are delicately pulled down your shoulder until the garment is completely off, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of his office nips at them.

He wastes no time in wrapping his pouty lips around the sensitive peak and suckling softly. His tongue traces around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple which causes you to whine and bring your fingers to entangle in his hair, pressing your chest deeper onto his face.

Repeating the action on the other, he lavishes your breasts with attention from his skilled muscle. His facial hair is an added stimulant to your pleasure and your clit pulsates, body ready to have him inside of you.

You roll your hips, feeling his erection brush up against your naked pussy and your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s then that you realize that he’s still fully clothed while you’re practically naked. The only things that adorn your body are your ripped stockings and the garter belt along with your heels.

Tugging him away from your tits, you bring his face up to yours, noses brushing against each other. You can smell your sex on his lips, so you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself and moaning.

“I need you to fuck me, agent.” Your lips brush against his as you speak, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

His chest rumbles at your request, hands antsy as he caresses and gropes; memorizing all your curves and the feel of your body.

“S’that what my gatita wants? For me to fuck her sweet little pussy?” 

Your answer comes in the form of another passionate kiss with a nod, your tongue intertwining with his then sucking on it softly.  He’s such a good fucking kisser, you could make out with him until your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls back, quickly beginning to unbutton his shirt in which you assist him, your french tipped nails taking over while he makes work of getting his pants undone and off.

Sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders, you pull him back down to you, lips quickly kissing all over the freshly exposed skin, savoring the warmth radiating off him.

You feel his naked cock pressing against your wet slit and your head cants back, a breathless whimper pushing past your lips while he lets out a deep groan.

“You make such pretty noises, muñeca. Wanna hear them all the time.”

He rubs his plush head against the length of your sopping pussy, collecting the wetness of your arousal.

“Gonna let me fuck this pussy raw, gatita? For all I know you’ve been spreading your legs for half the fuckin’ city.”

Your head spins, body overstimulated by his touch and the words that leave him. 

“Need to feel all of you, Javi. I think about it all the time. No one else. Just you.” You whisper out, once more clenching your thighs around his hips and rolling your own to entice him into slipping inside your tight and needy heat.

He curses, his teasing finally getting to him as he slowly sinks his thick, hard cock inside of you.

You both sigh out in pleasure in unison, your fleshy walls contracting around his length and swallowing him in, almost in the same manner in which your throat had all those nights ago. 

Every part of your body is eager to feel him somehow, your obsession and insatiable craving convoluting your being into nothing more than just something to bring him pleasure.

“Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí.”

He still hasn’t bottomed out and you feel so incredibly full. Your wet dreams have nothing against the real thing. 

“Javiiii, I need you to move. To fuck me hard and fast.” While you know having him rock into you slowly and sensually would feel better than winning the fucking lottery, you need to drop your own self respect and have him take you like the whores he’s so fond of.

He bares his teeth, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. He readjusts your legs to sit higher on his waist.

“Was goin’ slow to give you the chance to get used to me baby pero la gatita quiere mas and I can’t help but spoil you, hermosa.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you gasp loudly, the burn of him stretching you out adds vicious heat to your already hot cunt.

“Oh just like that Javi please…” you sob as he begins to fuck you just as you asked. Hard and fast. 

“Pobrecita. Can’t even take what she’s asking for.” He fucking pouts, mocking you and you’re certain that you’ve died and gone straight to horny heaven.

The desk moves with every thrust; pens, papers and other items hitting the floor. 

He roughly takes ahold of your bouncing tits, using them as leverage to keep splitting you open on his cock, your arousal leaving a creamy ring against his flesh and the sight has him going feral.

“Fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, querida. So tight and fucking perfect. Bet you’ve never been fucked like this before, huh? S’probably why you came to me. Knew I would take good care of you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles flushed, to keep you from falling off. The scratchy hairs on the base of his cock brush against your sensitive clit, having you shut your eyes out of pure ecstasy.

You never want this to end.

“Abre esos ojos gatita, you’re already denying me so much by not letting me see your lovely face. At least let me look into those beautiful eyes while I fuck you.” One of his hands leaves your breast, lightly slapping you to get your attention back on him.

As if it ever wavered.

Your eyes blink open, the slight sting across your cheek only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“D-Do that again.” You plead with a small smirk, squeezing your walls around him and he grunts, slapping your face again.

You moan and he matches your smirk, basking in your reaction.

“Ay nena, eres mi dream girl. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

His praise paired with the harsh snap of his hips driving his cock deeper is enough to have stars blinding your eyesight as your pussy tightens and your orgasm begins to shoot up your spine.

“Aqui, Javi. I’m right here baby.” Your words slur, absolutely cock drunk.

His torso looks perfectly fucking sculpted, like a god walking amongst men. Different muscles tense and jolt at his movements; you want to bite into his triceps and lick all over his prominent collarbone.

He shifts again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders and the change in angle has you moaning out like a seasoned pornstar. He places gentle kisses against the inside of your knee, trailing his tongue against the nylon of your stockings before doing the same on the other leg.

This has your pussy feeling tighter and you watch as his own orgasm begins to overtake him.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

Your left hand trails down the length of your torso until it’s at your pulsating clit, the tips of your fingers beginning to rub small circles against the pearl.

His dark eyes fall onto your movements, his tongue running along his teeth slowly.

“Tan hermosa, nena. Look at how that ring looks against your pussy. Do you touch yourself pretending it’s me, tu esposo, gatita?”

You nod, no longer feeling shy about your perverse delusion of belonging to him in a matrimonial sense. “Si, all the time. Think about you coming home to our house and fucking me on our bed. Ay, Javi I’m about to cum.”

His balls clench, jaw ticking as he too begins to slip into this fantasy of yours. “I’d take such good care of you baby. Make sure all of your needs are, fucking christ,” his thrusts stutter, “met. I’d do anything for you.”

And just like that, your orgasm topples over and your back archs off the desk at the intensity of it. Your vision spots, ears ringing as you douse his cock with your cum.

He fucks you through it, muffled words of praise not reaching you since you’re trying to focus on not passing out from pure bliss.

His cock twitches inside of you, feeling you come undone pulling euphoria out of him too.

“Where do you want it, gatita. You better tell me before I cum in this pussy and make you a mamita.”

Oh fuck, while the offer sounds enticing as hell, you know you need to think with a somewhat clear head so you just say, “Cum all over my clit, please.”

You don’t need to tell him twice, he pulls out just enough for the hot ribbons of his spend to messily land on your exposed clit, some of it getting on your knuckles and ring as you lazily rub it in.

He’s cursing up a storm, a tight grip on your thigh as he empties his balls all over your flesh. 

You both are left panting, his cum dripping down your fingers and pussy onto his desk. Blinking slowly, you meet his gaze and bring your digits up to your mouth, sucking them in and humming in content at the taste of your mixed release.

“Sucia,” he spits out before falling to his knees again, giving you no time to fucking react as he buries his face in your freshly used cunt.

“Javier!” You shout, literally shout, as he eats your cum and his out of your sweet pussy. Your fingers shoot down to tangle in his mussed hair, yanking on it without caring if it pains him or not. 

You don’t even realize it but you’re actually crying. The tears falling from the corners of your eyes beneath the mask and onto your cheek.

You’ve never felt this good. Never had a man, or anyone else for that manner, make you feel as sexy and wanted as the agent that’s currently in between your legs. 

When he finally stands, you’re left an incoherent mess and all he does is smirk.

“We taste good, muñeca.”

You whimper, not knowing how the fuck you’re going to recover from this and if you’ll even make it down the flight of stairs that awaits you for your departure.

Javier’s after care consists of placing soft kisses all over you, whispering sweet words to help bring you back to him. He caresses you again, this time being mindful of your over sensitivity.

He kisses along your thighs and tummy then moves up to each breast. His fingers graze along your skin and when he’s finally at your mouth, your lips meet in a kiss that surpasses any of the other ones you’ve shared with him.

Your mask makes it a little awkward at first but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the feeling of the other. It’s sensual and slow, all the unspoken things felt between the two of you being relayed during this interlock.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against the lace and plastic of your kitten mask. Your red lipstick is smeared all over his handsome face.

The lust in his brown eyes has now been replaced with something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, and that’s enough to snap you out of your trance and you gently push at his chest.

“I have to go.”

He scoffs, not moving from over you, “You don’t.”

“I do, Javi.” You say, a little more forcefully, which gets him to pull away.

Your panties and bra are on the other side of the room and you slide from the desk to retrieve them, wobbling as you go.

You’re going to be feeling him for days.

“How many more times are we going to do this? What’s the endgame here?”

You pull your underwear up your legs, cringing at how uncomfortable the damp material feels against your swollen core.

“There is no endgame. We’re just messing around.”

With your bra back on, you move to retrieve your trench coat which means you have to face him now.

He’s leaning against his desk like he had been when you first arrived, pants undone but up on his hips again.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to sneak in whenever you need a good fuck?”

You laugh dryly, crossing the room to get your coat but he grabs you by the forearm once you pass him; halting you in your spot.

“Javier,” You warn.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You stare at him, wanting nothing more than to rip the mask off and confess to him how much he means to you despite this being anything but a conventional relationship.

As delusional as you’ve tended to be as of late, you know he’s way out of your league. He doesn’t go after girls like you.

Girls that are easy to dismiss and forget in the pouring rain.

“Same rules as last time: you’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

He tightens his grip on your arm and you narrow your eyes.

“Are we clear?”

He’s silent but finally lets go and you don’t hesitate to grab and put on your coat.

You’re so eager to leave that you don’t notice your press lanyard has slipped out of your pocket as you’re making your way to the door.

He stands from his seated position and you brace yourself for yet another attempt at him trying to change your mind.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, you hear the flick of a lighter and that’s enough to get you to turn the doorknob and leave without another word. 

Javier smokes the entire cigarette to calm his racing heart before he lazily begins to clean up the mess you two made in his office.

He’s lost in his thoughts, all consisting of you, until he spots the lanyard in the corner.

Picking it up, he looks at it quizzically before flipping it over. His jaw tightens once he sees your face, the familiarity of your lips and eyes luring him in.

He’s got a clear view now and it strikes him entirely, heart fluttering as he takes in your appearance. 

He reads your name, as if tasting it on his tongue, and the outlet you work for out loud. He recognizes you from somewhere but he just can’t remember where.

This is going to pick at him like an unhealed scab. But at least Javier knows who you are now.

Of course she’s a reporter. Things are starting to make more sense.

Translations:

Identificación, por favor - Identification please

Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana - I'm sorry ma’am. Come back tomorrow

El jefe de la DEA - The head of the DEA

Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche - Thank you very much sir, have a good night

Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez - Crawl like you did last time

bebita - baby girl

agente - agent

muñeca - doll

Me encanta cuando haces caso.

¿te comprometiste, gatita? - Are you engaged, kitten?

Tan mala mi gatita bella. - My beautiful kitten is so bad

Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena. - You are such a naughty kitten. I'm going to have to tame you baby.

Tan dulce. - So sweet

Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí. - Goddamn baby you feel so good. This little body is made for me.

pero la gatita quiere mas - but the kitten wants more

Abre esos ojos gatita - open those eyes

esposo - husband

sucia - dirty

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster 8

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader

Master list

Chapter Warnings: SMUT A/N: So... I did a sneaky in this chapter. First one to guess correctly gets a 500 word Sandman drabble (you can give me a prompt or let me go wild - your choice). This is the biggest tender!fuck I've ever seen. Like damn. It's an important beat between chapter arcs, and there are some themes/hints ya'll should really take note of. For reasons. All I want for my birthday are comments, my dears! <3 Thank you for your ongoing support.

8. Seal

What happened?

Creeping out of the fog, she swept together the distant pieces of her waking mind, looking for a thought, or a plan, or…

What happened?

She’d had a wonderful dream. Safe. Warm. Happy. If she could fall back asleep and drop back into that place – those arms – she would, but a sleeping mind never followed the same course. She was waking, and it was over.

But she didn’t remember going to bed.

That was all right. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten drunk or collapsed after days without sleep. Not a problem.

But –

She hadn’t set her wards.

Her eyes snapped open, and her hand sprang out, reaching for the bag of black salt she always kept near her bed in the van. Anything could come, anything could already be there. As she jerked to consciousness, full of half-remembered terror – the mirror, the unseelie, her skin, the dress – long fingers caught her flailing hand. They wove seamlessly between her own, pulling her attention down to starry eyes. Soft lips pressed to her knuckles, calling her back from the brink of delirium.

“All is well.” Morpheus’ thumb rubbed along her throbbing pulse, distracting her from her panic with tactile affection. He read the beat as her memory settled, as she recalled where she was and what they’d shared. He must have felt the spiking rhythm, too, judging by his smirk.

He was beautiful. And definitely naked under the grey silk sheets that gathered over his waist.

She licked her lips, at a loss for words as the butterflies she thought she’d banished sprang back to life in her stomach.

“Hello.”

Yes. Excellent. Definitely the most romantic greeting after waking up for the first time in a lover’s bed. In her fucking eldritch soulmate’s apparent love nest, actually. So far as she could tell, they weren’t even in a room. She could see him easily, but beyond the place where they were lying, she could only see vague, bushy shapes that could’ve been clouds or trees. Lights flickered in them. Maybe stars. Possibly fireflies.

No visible exits. Not even a floor, in fact.

Though it wasn’t like she was in a rush to leave.

“Hello.”

Following his gentle tug, she sank back to rest on her side, facing him.

He was so beautiful. She’d already thought it, but damn if it wasn’t worth thinking twice. With his disheveled raven hair and self-satisfied expression, he looked at least half as debauched as she felt.

Which reminded her.

Oh shit.

She was naked, too.

Her free hand moved towards the sheets that had fallen all the way to her thighs when she sat up, but his disapproving pout made her second guess herself.

Covering bare skin was instinctual. Especially after everything she’d suffered in –

No, no. Not thinking of that. She physically shook her head to banish the flashes of pain and fear trying to manifest.

She was safe. She was happy. Her Dream was real, and she could be vulnerable with him in this world apart. Nothing would hunt her here. Nothing would dare. He would avenge and protect her.

Carefully, consciously, she let her hand drift from the sheets, and Morpheus smiled in the wake of her decision.

“My love,” he purred, looping an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, “I want you.”

He nuzzled into her neck, kissing under her ear and finding new places her blood pounded under her skin. She found herself trying to remember language, how to speak in anything but sighs. Prince of Stories. Right. Whatever. Prince of Carnal Brainmelt more like. He made it impossible to think, working little bites over her flesh as he continued his eager assault, leaving her squirming, and desperate, and tongue-tied.

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt them burning far below her skin. Below flesh and bone. Stars were only cold because of their distance, and she was much too close to see them as anything but suns. She knew it was reckless to look, to stare back and let the heat blind her, but…

She couldn’t pull away now, even if she wanted to. He didn’t need prison bars and pansies to trap her.

Panting, she finally strung together an answer. “I want you, too.”

Her words brought him back to her lips, and he wasted no time licking into her mouth, sharing his heated groans. One hand slipped around to cradle her head. The one he’d used to reel her in crept down, brushing along her waist, squeezing her hip, and settling on her thigh. Strong fingers pulled her leg over his hip, and she groaned back into their kiss as his clear desire brushed her clit.

He didn’t press, only dragging himself through her folds as he explored her mouth. When she stopped for breath, he kissed under her chin, palm flexing just over her knee. She writhed with his slow strokes, enjoying the moment but far from satisfied.

“I need you.” Kissing his brow, his cheek, his lips, she sang her yearning. “I need you, Morpheus.”

Her words found him and burned the way his eyes flamed in her soul. She saw them kindling in his gaze as he pulled away to watch her face, swallowing every flicker of expression as he teased her entrance. And pushed inside.

The world hummed.

It was all beginnings and endings and discoveries. Dream was himself, and she was with him.

He moved so slowly, and she clung tight, shaking as the pleasure built with the inexorable pace of sunrise. Clutching his shoulder, his back, she fought to keep breathing, to keep her head above water as he pushed and pulled inside. Gods. He’d drown her, and she’d gladly find death here in his arms.

“You asked what I want.” He wasn’t as helpless to his physical manifestation as she was to her human body, but his rough voice proved how she affected him, and a sunburst of pride glowed in her breast. “Perhaps I was dishonest with myself. I want the measure of your dreams and your waking hours, too.”

He hunted for her fear, waiting for the golden moment to snap under the weight of his confession. His searching eyes flicked over hers, desperate but guarded. She didn’t know what to say. If she could say anything. But she wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t threatening her – this was an invitation. And she could only invite him back, let him feel the truths she couldn’t name yet.

Her hands settled on his face, trying to soothe the needles of anxiety, his anticipated despair. She offered more kisses, pulling at his lips, welcoming and reciprocating each touch in an effort to reach deeper. Too feel even more.

His grip on her thigh tightened, and he rolled half over her, leaving his sedate, almost drowsy lovemaking behind. Still tender, but openly needy, he picked up speed, using the new angle to his advantage.

She thought she’d been breathless before – fuck.

“I want… a life. A story. You.” He was begging. Commanding. On the cusp of claiming his own dream.

He didn’t take. He shared. They gave and met in true union, tasting elements beyond bodies to melt through time embrace destiny. A snare of their wyrds. A welcome loss wrapped in discovery.

Her heart would burst. There wasn’t enough of her to hold the love for something so vast as her monster, her Morpheus, and as he hiked her leg even higher on his waist, she grabbed him by the hair. She needed him. She needed his kiss, his breath, or she’d fall apart. He obliged, but she knew she’d go to pieces regardless.

As his thrusts grew more erratic, she broke.

The most exquisite destruction.

He pushed as deep as he could reach as she pulled out his own end, but he didn’t give her space to breathe. Rolling again so she was half draped – entirely boneless – over his chest, he kept his defiantly hard length inside. She’d have rest, but no peace.

Stroking her hair, he murmured into the crown of her head, “Stay, my love. I’m not ready to let you go.”

[joelalorian]

beneath the silent boughs, whispers of danger flow

Frankie Morales x f!reader | WC: 5.8k | 18+ mdni | masterlist

Summary: An adventure planned to impress you goes sideways, leaving Frankie scrambling to get you both out alive.

Warnings: Cursing, danger, drugs, guns, injuries, and some good ol' outdoor sexy times (blow job and p eating). Established relationship. Set in Florida panhandle (so no mountains, unfortunately). Reader is a blank slate except for hair in a ponytail. No use of y/n.

A/N: Written for the Summer Lovin 2024 writing challenge created by @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery, and @amanitacowboy (thank you, lovelies!). I was given the above moodboard and the following prompts: Hiking, Frankie, and 'you always carry an extra pair?' I had a lot of fun with this, so thank you ladies (gn)! Also, thank you to @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

“I want to take you hiking.”

You stilled, head swiveling to stare at Frankie incredulously. “Hiking? Frankie, this is Florida. There’s no hiking here.”

Undeterred, he smiled until that enticing little dimple in his cheek came out to say hi. “Not Colorado level hiking like you’re used to, no. But we do have some hills and caves in the Panhandle that I want to show you. Have you ever been caving?”

“No, I’ve never been caving. I make it a rule to avoid bats, so caving is a hard pass,” you replied, scrunching your nose up in distaste, an expression Frankie found endearing.

Frankie stared up at you from his prone position on the bed while you fixed your hair. He could watch you for hours. “Oh, come on! You’ve hiked the Rockies with grizzlies and shit, but you’re telling me bats cross the line?”

A few short steps closed the distance between the vanity and the bed, and your fingers reached out to run through Frankie’s mop of messy curls. “We all have our limits, chulo. Besides, why are you so insistent on this?”

Shrugging, he sat up, one large hand grasping your wrist. Frankie placed a series of kisses along the soft, supple skin along the underside of your forearm. “I dunno. I just want to impress you, you know? Take you hiking somewhere you’ve never been before.” His free hand scrubbed at the back of his neck in that nervous tick of his. “I can’t afford to take you on fancy trips, so…”

Still in the early days of your relationship, Frankie labored under the impression that you needed to be wooed. Little did he know you fell for him the moment you laid eyes on him, the night your best friend introduced you to her boyfriend’s best friends. Classic friends to lovers trope, it took you both a while to fess up to the depth of your true feelings, but when you finally did…

Things were good, really good.

“Babe, you don’t need to take me on fancy trips. I don’t want you to take me on fancy trips, not unless it’s somewhere you really want to go,” you emphasized, your hands cradling his face. Placing a soft kiss on his pouty lips, the scruff of his beard tickling your chin, you continued, “I want us to do things together, share the burden together. If we want to travel, we’ll plan something together. Fancy’s not really my style anyway.”

When you pulled back, Frankie followed, his lips seeking yours once again. The kiss deepened as you sat on the bed, his tongue licking into your mouth and caressing yours with such finesse it set your soul on fire. You didn’t have time to follow through on the promise of that kiss, though.

“We have to get going or we’ll be late,” you reprimanded, easing back to your feet.

“I’m sure Benny would understand if we were late to his match,” Frankie pouted, his large hands trying so hard to grasp your hips and pull you back in. You dodged him with artful precision, using the defensive moves he taught you.

“Nuh uh, come on. I’ll let you take me hiking this weekend if you get your ass moving right now.”

After a five-hour road trip followed by a restful sleep in the cabin Frankie booked, you found yourself clinging to Frankie’s broad frame for warmth on a guided cave tour in the Florida Caverns State Park on Saturday morning. The temperature difference between the surface and the cave more than you bargained for, you’d freeze without your boyfriend’s arm around you or the long-sleeved shirt he pulled from his backpack.

The whole ride up from Tampa, you thought Frankie wanted to do the full-on spelunking experience, repelling down cave walls with helmets and belay lines, exploring crevices and shit. It turned out he just wanted to go on a guided walking tour of the caves – nothing crazy or dangerous. Thank goodness! You were adventurous, but not quite that much!

The stalagmites and stalactites were actually pretty cool, especially backlit as they were with thoughtfully placed lighting features chosen by the park staff, but you preferred to explore nature’s offerings aboveground. At least there were zero bat sightings!

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Frankie asked once the tour concluded, and you were left to explore the surface of the park on your own or head back to the car. His arm still around your shoulders, the last of the lingering chill fading away, you smiled up at him.

“Nah, it was pretty cool, actually,” you admitted. Stripping off the extra layer, you handed it back to Frankie. “Thanks for this, babe.”

He beamed at that, tossing a fist in the air. “One point for me then!”

“Easy there, flyboy.” Patting his chest with a hearty laugh, you asked, “Where do we want to explore next?”

Glancing at his watch, Frankie hummed. “Let’s go check out Apalachicola National Forest - we saw it on the drive over. It’s huge and there are lots of less traveled trails to check out.”

“’Less traveled trails’ huh? You plan on murdering me and disposing my body off one of those trails?” You bumped your shoulder against his as you teased.

“Pssshhh, never,” he replied with a laugh, kissing your forehead as you climbed into his car. Once he settled in the driver’s seat, Frankie turned to you with a devilish grin. “I had other things in mind when considering which trails to explore.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” He merely smirked at you.

The drive between the two areas went by quick, Frankie trying his best to one up you on hiking knowledge and bragging about rucking miles with a 50-pound rucksack in the military.

“Your skills are clearly legendary, chulo. My leisurely day hikes along the easiest trails in the Rockies have nothing on you.” Flashing him a teasing wink, you double knotted your hiking boots and grabbed your backpack, which likely weighed a tenth of what Frankie used to carry. Eyeing the pack he tossed over his shoulders, you asked, “How much does that one weigh, tough guy?”

“You tease now, la bronquinosa, but you never know if you’re gonna need something from this pack.” He shot a quick text off to Santi, letting him know where you two were headed just in case. Cell reception could be spotty in the area, he warned you on the ride up.

You followed Frankie toward the main trail marker, enjoying the view of his backside as you did. “That’s my Frankie, always the voice of reason.”

Despite the sun being near the midpoint of the sky, the forest canopy blocked most of the heat. Still, it was Florida, so you hiked in shorts and tee shirts to avoid overheating, skin slathered in sunblock and bug spray. You strolled in peaceful silence for a while, letting the sounds of nature wash over you as Frankie led the way with his innate sense of direction to the trail he wanted to check out.

You passed a few folks on the main trail, mostly couples or small families out exploring the shorter loop. As you progressed farther into the forest and off the main trail, it felt like you were the only two people amongst a sea of flora. Hiking and chatting about whatever came to mind turned out to be a great way to spend a Saturday with your handsome, rugged boyfriend.

After a while, he pulled you off the trail into a copse of trees along a small creek. A flat rock outcrop right next to the river marked the perfect place to take a break. Frankie dug the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he made the day before out of his pack, handing one to you. The two of you sat on the rock and devoured the sandwiches and a bottle of water each as you enjoyed the serenity of the water babbling in the creek.

Once your stomachs were sated, Frankie leant over and kissed your neck in that spot that always set your senses on fire. Glancing around, you confirmed that no one traveling along the trail would see you before giving into the sensations.

“You’re giving me goosebumps, chulo,” you crooned, fingers knocking the cap from his head to run through his thick, curly locks.

Frankie continued his ministrations, nipping and sucking little love bites on your sensitive skin as he worked his way down your body. Before long, he was on his knees, working your shorts open and down your thighs with nimble fingers until they slipped to the ground. “Time for dessert, I think,” he said before pulling the gusset of you’re already soaked panties aside. His dark eyes soaked in the view of your glistening pussy for several long moments before diving into lap at your juices.

Back arching in pleasure, your hips slid forward on the rock, legs spread wide for Frankie. Mewls and moans left your lips, echoing off the trees as he worked your clit with his tongue, one thick finger dipping inside you.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you gasped when he hit that spongy bundle of nerves with the curl of his finger. Master at eating pussy that he was, Frankie had you coming, hard, in minutes, and he drank up every drop that leaked from you.

He sat back on his haunches after working you through it, mustache and chin scruff glistening with the evidence of a job well done as he grinned. “Mmm, that’s the best dessert a man could ask for.”

You grinned back at him, slinking from atop the rock to join him on the ground, hands already grabbing for the button of his shorts. “My turn.”

Without further ado, Frankie fell back on the ground, legs straightening as you eased his shorts down his slim hips. Mindful of the wilderness, you left his boxer briefs in place, one hand delicately extracting his hardened length from the hidden opening. Frankie had the most beautiful cock you’d ever seen – long and girthy, perfect upward curve and a prominent vein on the underside that just begged for you to lick it.

He watched you with those dark chocolate, baby cow eyes, pouty lips dropped open as you swiped the flat of your tongue along his entire length. Those beautiful eyes about rolled back in his head when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, tongue tracing along the little slit in search of precum.

Sucking his cock into your mouth eagerly, you drew lewd moans and whimpers from Frankie. “Fuck, carino. You’re so good at this. You were made to suck my cock.” One large hand grasped your ponytail, wrapping the hair around his palm to direct your movements. His other hand clawed at the ground, fingernails scraping into the dirt.

On edge, Frankie pulled you back by the hair, giving you both a chance to catch your breath before the pressure of his hand forced your mouth back down onto his cock. You took him deep, the broad head hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. You loved the feel of nearly choking on him, knowing how much he fucking loved it.

At the gentle scrape of your teeth along his mushroom head, Frankie lost it. Thick ropes of cum hit your tongue as your mouth continued working him until he was a whimpering mess from the overstimulation.

It took a few minutes to recover, Frankie’s chest heaving as he caught his breath from the coming so mind-blowingly hard. You stood to find your shorts on to note the uncomfortable dampness of your panties. Frankie looked up from buttoning his own shorts at your groan.

“What’s wrong, carino?”

Your hips shifted awkwardly, trying to adjust to the feeling as you pulled your shirts up your legs. “My panties are uncomfortably wet,” you whined, shoulders slumped.

Head shaking, Frankie chuckled. “Don’t worry, I got you covered, hermosa.” Digging around in his pack, he pulled out a fresh pair of your panties.

Mouth dropping open, you just stared at him for a moment. “You always carry an extra pair of my underwear around with you?”

Frankie laughed as you snatched them from his hand. “I’ve learned the hard way to always be prepared, hermosa. I carry an extra pair of everything.”

“Fucking boy scout,” you muttered under your breath, yanking on the fresh panties followed by your shorts.

“No, hermosa, fucking Delta Force,” he replied with a cheeky wink.

Once you were both sufficiently put together again, he kissed you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip like it was a gummy worm. “Alright, hermosa, ready to keep going?” Frankie asked, scooping his hat from where you tossed it and placing it on his head.

You nodded, grasping his hand to lead the way back to the trail. A thin sheen of sweat from the recent activities covered your bodies as you walked. After a while, Frankie steered you off onto a trail that looked like it had barely ever been used. Vegetation grew in an arch over the limited path, leaving you feeling like an explorer traversing undiscovered land. You watched the ground carefully, trying to avoid tripping over exposed roots. So focused were you on the ground that you didn’t see the low hanging limb that Frankie ducked under in time.

“Ow! Fuck, that hurt!” you exclaimed when your forehead smacked into the unforgiving hardwood, nearly knocking you off your feet.

Startled at your exclamation, Frankie turned to find you ducking under the tree, hand hovering over a gash in your forehead. “Oh shit! Hermosa, let me see.” He eased your hand away, thick fingertips assessing the damage with tender touches.

“Does it look as bad as it feels?” you asked, voice pitched higher due to the pain.

“That tree branch gotcha pretty good,” Frankie admitted, slipping the pack from his shoulders. He kept talking as he dug through the pack for his trusty first aid kit. “It’s bleeding a lot, like head wounds do, but I don’t think you need stitches or anything.”

“Well thank fuck for that. It better not scar,” you grumbled, letting your boyfriend tend to your wound. His nose scrunched up, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated on tenderly cleaning the wound.

“There you go, almost good as new,” he said after placing a gentle kiss over the bandage he’d just secured over the gash.

“My hero,” you teased, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Waving you off with a chuckle, Frankie hefted the pack over his shoulders and took your hand. “Want to call it a day or keep going? I’m good with whatever you want to do.”

You pretended to mull it over for a moment. “Let’s keep going. We didn’t come all this way just to hike for an hour.”

If only you knew how much you’d regret those words.

Deeper into the forest, you spotted a great horned owl perched in a live oak, eyes closed and blending in so well you almost missed it. The bird of prey only cracked an eye open when you stepped on particularly crunchy detritus trying to get closer. Frankie snapped a few pictures of the owl, along with a couple of snakes, ospreys, and even a bald eagle that you spotted on the hike.

At a small clearing, you stopped for a water break. Something off in the brush caught your eye when you bent to retie your shoe. Squinting, you needed confirmation from Frankie on what you were seeing.

“Babe, take a look at this,” you called him over to where you hunched down. “Look over there, just past the thick brush, in that patch of sunlight. Is that what I think it is?”

Frankie followed your line of sight, eyebrows raised. “If you’re thinking those are a couple of pot plants, then yes.”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you stepped closer to the hidden plants. “What in the world are they doing out here? There’s only a few. Maybe we should take a bit to enjoy back at the camp.”

Frankie stepped up behind you, shocked at your audacity. “Hermosa, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know who that belongs to. I can tell you right now, whoever it is, they are definitely the type of people we do not want to steal from.”

“Oh, please,” you waved him off, stepping through the underbrush until you closed in on the pot plants. “I’ll only grab a bit; they’ll hardly notice a few buds missing.”

“Fuck,” Frankie hissed, following when you didn’t stop at the first plant you reached. You snapped off a flower from a few plants, trying to be discreet and not just shred an entire plant. You noticed a few more plants and followed the narrow clearing between trees to reach them.

The pattern continued as curiosity took over, following the small patches until you stepped out of the protection of the trees into a larger clearing with far more plants and evidence of some kind of clandestine drug operation surrounding you. A rundown cabin sat to one side, windows covered from the inside and caked with dirt on the outside. A growing pile of trash peaked from behind it. The arid smell of ammonia hung in the air stinging Frankie’s lungs.

The sound of dogs barking sounded nearby, yet his scan of your surroundings didn’t locate them. He did, however, count two pickup trucks and a few all-terrain vehicles. This was very much not good. It only became worse when a couple of men exited the cabin, standing on the beaten down porch for an apparent cigarette break.

“Hermosa, we need to get the fuck out of here.” He tugged you down out of sight, slipping a hand over your mouth as you yelped. He didn’t smother the sound in time, and it drew the attention of the men. Frankie hurriedly dragged you by the hand back to the thick forest, shouts from the men echoing behind you.

Somehow, you both lost sight of the unmarked trail you came from. Hugging the tree line until Frankie found a spot to slip through the thicket, you looked over your shoulder. Your eyes widened as one of the men reached behind him, pulling a pistol out of the back of his pants.

“Oh no, that can’t be good,” you groaned, drawing Frankie’s attention as you turned around to hurry into the woods. He immediately clocked the guy with the gun, running across the clearing, as the other men started up the ATVs, engines roaring to life.

“We need to move!” Frankie’s voice pitched deeper than usual, urgency taking over as gunshots rang in the air, pulling you deeper into the thicket. One hand dug in his pack, removing a Glock 9mm from a hidden pocket. He let go of your hand for a moment to check the clip and pull back the slide, humming in satisfaction once it was locked and loaded.

You just followed numbly, doe-eyed and head aching from the gash, panic already setting in. “Are those guys gonna come after us?” you squeaked.

“Most likely,” Frankie replied, mind whirling. He didn’t want to scare you, but you needed to know the truth. “We weren’t meant to find that place. It smelled like a meth lab; did you notice that? We need to hoof it, find somewhere to lay low while I come up with a plan.”

The two of you raced through the woods, relying on Frankie’s innate sense of direction and his memory of geological features you passed during your hike. You breathed a sigh of temporary relief that the barely-there path you followed was in no way wide enough for the ATVs, the engine sounds growing distant.

“Come on, hermosa. We need to keep moving, but I also need to check the phone for a signal. Can you dig it out of the front pocket of my bag without stopping?” Frankie’s demeaner remained calm, collected as you practically fell apart.

“S-sure,” you replied, voice as shaky as your trembling hands. With awkward, jerky movements, you managed to unzip and remove Frankie’s cell phone from the pack while keeping up with his rushed movement through the forest. Powering the phone on, you waited as it searched for a signal.

Two bars… that had to be enough, right?

“Here, there’s not much signal.” You handed the phone to Frankie and watched as he quickly pulled up Santi’s contact.

Your fingers crossed until the call went through. Frankie spoke frantically into the phone once Santi answered, but you couldn’t decipher what he said. The sound of your own breathing and pounding heart echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. You don’t know how long they talked – it could have been minutes or hours – but you watched the tension in Frankie’s shoulders ease ever so slightly when he ended the call.

“The boys aren’t far. They were headed up here already, jealous of the adventure we’re on or some shit,” Frankie explained, still maintaining a hurried pace back toward the main trail. “Santi’s gonna call the cops, tell ‘em what we saw. I gotta send him coordinates.”

At last, Frankie slowed to a stop, eyes searching the sea of trees in every direction, trying to figure out where to go as his fingers worked his phone, sending a text to Santi with approximate coordinates based on your current location.

“What are we gonna do?” you asked, a chill washing over you despite the searing heat of the day. Your arms wrapped around yourself, seeking comfort any way you could find it.

Glancing up once the text went through, Frankie took in your obvious panic. “Hermosa, baby, it’s ok. We’re gonna be ok. I just have to find us somewhere to lay low for a bit until the boys or the authorities get here.”

He’d kill for a topographical map right then.

“Let’s head back for that creek where we… you know. We’ll need to get creative to stay out of sight in case any of those guys are tracking us. Okay, hermosa?”

You nodded; bottom lip squished between your teeth to keep it from wobbling. “I’ll do whatever you tell me, babe.”

“That’s my good girl,” Frankie smiled then, lightening the mood for a moment. Grasping your hand, he set off again, paced hurried but still manageable on the uneven path. The last thing he needed was for you to roll an ankle tripping over an exposed root as you ran through the forest.

The ATV engines rumbled in the background, reminding you both that the bad men were still out there, searching for you. Time became this weird, liminal thing as Frankie led you through the forest, never stopping until he spotted rocky outcrops, the stream from earlier visible beyond.

“Time to get creative. You ready?” His hands came up to frame your face, dark eyes searching your own. At your nod, Frankie leant in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, thumbs stroking your cheeks. Pulling back, his eyes never left yours. “I love you; did you know that? I think I loved you from the moment we met.”

Flummoxed, you giggled, brows raised in shock. “And this is the moment you choose to tell me?”

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, chagrined. One hand dropped from your face to swipe at the back of his neck. “I…”

“I love you, too, Frankie. Always have, always will. Just, please, get me out of here alive.” You pressed your lips to his, tongue slipping into his mouth to tangle with his for a moment. It might have been a weird time to exchange the L-word, but it served to lessen your panic. You could so easily lose yourself in the moment, if not for the sound of the ATVs. Were they getting closer?

“I won’t let anything happen to you, hermosa. Not now, not ever.”

You followed Frankie down to the stream and watched as he dipped his hands into the water, scooping up some of the sediment with his fingers. He beckoned you to crouch next to him. Once you did, he swiped his fingers across your cheeks, leaving dark swatches of clay-like sediment to dry on your skin. Continuing the movements, he covers portions of your exposed skin and even swipes some over your clothing. Satisfied, he turned to do the same to his own skin and clothes until you both looked ready for war.

“Camouflage?” you inquired, finally understanding.

Frankie nodded. “Exactly. We’re gonna hunker down over there,” he pointed to a particular outcrop with a large indent in the soil on one side of it. “This will just help us blend in.” Before leading you over to the boulder, he swiped some more mud over both of your clothes for good measure, trying to dull the brightness of the fabric.

Clearing out some additional space beneath the boulder, Frankie guided you into the spot, sliding in next to you. Once in place, he covered you both with any foliage he could reach. “We need to stay quiet now, ok? Just hang out until we hear from the guys, or the other dudes get close.”

You nodded, tucking your head into the crook of Frankie’s neck. Breathing in the musky scent of him calmed your anxiety, anchoring you down from the overwhelming fear threatening to cloud your senses.

“I’ll keep you safe, hermosa. I swear. Te amo,” Frankie whispered against your hair, one muscular arm flung over you, drawing you in tighter to his body.

Time crawled, just like your skin at the thought of bugs crawling over you. You fought the urge to fidget, to scratch at the skin of your legs. The sun dipped in the skin, the light of day fading. At long last, the phone buzzed in Frankie’s pocket and he carefully, quietly extracted it. A text from Santi letting you know the guys arrived and were spreading out to search the forest for you. Frankie sent updated coordinates for your current location, and you silently prayed that they’d find you before the bad guys.

You counted to sixty in your head ten times before the first sound of nearby movement startled you. “Shhh,” Frankie purred in your ear, his right hand slowly, subtly moving toward his waistline to grasp the Glock. His left hand typed a quick, cryptic message to Santi, an answering buzz coming almost immediately.

“Fuck,” he hissed at the message as the sound of crunching leaves and cracking twigs grew closer, louder. It wasn’t Santi, Ben, or Will making the noise. He could only hope it was a large animal, but Frankie knew deep down that it wasn’t. “Hermosa, we’re gonna have to move.”

“Why?” you breathed, panic rising once again.

“That’s not our guys, making that racket,” Frankie whispered. “When I say go, you need to run. Go through the creek, get to the other side and follow the water as long as you can. I’ll catch up to you.”

“What? No! I’m not leaving you!” you whispered harshly, head shaking imperceptibly.

“Sshhh, you have to. Trust me, please? I love you. This is me making sure nothing happens to you.”

You wanted to argue, the words right there on the tip of your tongue, but Frankie’s beautiful, dark umber eyes pleaded with you to listen, to do what he said. There was an unexpected hint of fear in his eyes, something you never thought you’d see. It went against every fiber in your being, but you nodded. You would do what he said, run until you couldn’t anymore and just hope that he stayed right behind you.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Frankie eased up, peeking over the outcrop in the direction the noises were coming from. Two men – ones he saw back at that cabin – scanned the woods, searching for the two of you. He ducked back down, helping you to a squat position.

“It’s now or never, hermosa. Remember what I said, through the creek to the other side and follow the water. Just be careful – it’s getting darker as the sun sets. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I love you, Frankie. Please don’t do anything stupid.” Part of you ached to stay with him, to face the danger head on together. But you knew you couldn’t.

“I love you. Go. Now!” He shot to his feet; pistol raised to cover you.

Heart pounding in your chest, so hard you felt it in your throat, you stumbled to your feet and ran. Your hiking boots splashed through the calf-deep water of the creek before you scrambled up the other bank. Gun shots pierced the air, and you swore a bullet whizzed past your head.

“Fuck!” you screamed, running full tilt through the trees, staying close to the stream but using the forest for cover. Deep voiced shouts echoed behind you, more gunfire. A stitch ached in your side, still you ran. You tripped over roots, falling to the ground as the sky grew darker. Still, you ran. Even your head bouncing off a rock following one particularly hard fall didn’t stop you from scrambling back to your feet. You ran and ran and ran.

Feet carried you as far as your lungs allowed before you fell again, gasping for breath, body tucked behind a large live oak, hoping against hope that the trunk hid you from view. Entire body trembling from the adrenaline, an eardrum piercing scream burst from your lips when a hand reached out from around the tree, grabbing your shoulder.

Fighting with the little strength left in your body, you kicked and clawed at the owner of the hand, struggling as hard as you could to get away. In the heat of the moment, you forgot every tactic Frankie taught you.

“Sshhhh, it’s okay, hermanita. It’s just me.” A voice you recognized broke through the panic and all the fight left your body at once. You sank against Santi’s strong body, forcing him to hold you upright. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Santi,” you cried, tears flowing down your cheeks in relief. “Frankie… he needs—”

“The boys are backing him up, he’s okay. Come on, I gotta get you to safety or your boyfriend will shoot me himself.” Santiago guided you around and over some obstacles, leading you back to Frankie’s car.

By the time you got there, a park ranger and county sheriff’s deputy were waiting, along with an ambulance. You frantically searched the parking area for signs of Frankie or the Miller brothers, but there were none. You met Santi’s gaze with pleading eyes, begging him to find Frankie.

“Let the medics check you out, hermanita. I’ll figure out where the others are.” He handed you off to the medics, instructing them to treat you with care or face the consequences before he turned to speak with law enforcement.

The cut on your forehead reopened when you fell while running, the pain just hitting you now that you were truly safe, and the adrenaline drained away. The rest was a blur, getting treated by the medics, speaking with the park ranger and deputy. All of it a haze, until Frankie appeared from the trail, supported by Benny and Will.

“Why are you covered in blood?” you blurted once they brought Frankie close enough. Still covered in the natural camouflage from the stream, he looked a wreck. Frankie’s beloved ballcap gone, hair awry and threaded with leaves, abrasions marring his handsome face, blood soaking through the right side of his shirt. “Were you shot?”

Feeling like a marionette, you allowed Santi to guide you out of the way as the medics tended to Frankie. Your eyes never left his while the medics triaged his injuries before loading him into the back of the ambulance.

“Go with him, we’ll meet you there,” Santi urged, gently pushing you forward. He helped you climb up to sit next to Frankie’s stretcher, smiling encouragingly as he closed the doors.

Thirty-six hours later, you and the boys were on your way home. You spent much of that time at Frankie’s bedside, refusing to leave. DEA agents resorted to interviewing you and Frankie in his hospital room as you adamantly refused to meet them anywhere else.

Apparently, you and Frankie happened upon a well-established meth operation. The pot plants that drew you in were the least of what the agents found upon raiding the camp. Frankie and the boys subdued two of the drug traffickers before Frankie suffered a hit from a third man who snuck up on their six. The agents and sheriff’s department took care of the rest. With all that the authorities found, they doubted they’d need either of you to testify, but the agents told you they’d be in touch if necessary.

You doted on Frankie, holding him close in the backseat of his truck while Santi drove. Benny and Will following behind you in Will’s car. Fingers threaded through his hair in soothing strokes as he laid across the seat with his head in your lap. The wound still fresh, it hurt him too much to sit up for the five-hour drive home.

“You know what, chulo?” you asked quietly, bending forward to tilt your head over Frankie’s.

“Hmmm?” he gazed up at you, nearly purring in contentment as you scratched your nails against his scalp in slow, tender motions.

“I still have all those buds I nicked,” you grinned mischievously. “We’ll make edibles next weekend. How does that sound?”

Frankie stared up at you with those big cow eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. “I’m gonna marry you. Whenever you’re ready, Imma ask you to marry me. You’re the bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I gotta make you my wife before someone else steals you away.”

Words a bit slurred from the pain medication flowing through his veins, you gazed at him with such love in your soul. “I love you so much, you stupid, brave man, but I think you’re letting the pain meds do the talking for you.”

“Hey now! I’m injured. I got shot making sure you got to safety, you can’t call me stupid.” He pouted like a child, looking impossibly adorable with his wild curls like a halo around his head. “And it’s not the pain meds talkin’. I’ve always wanted to marry you, right from the moment you smiled at me.”

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you shushed him. Your gaze met Santi’s in the rearview mirror, his face lit up with amusement at the two of you. Shifting your gaze back to Frankie’s, you flashed him that smile that first charmed him. “Ok, chulo. I want to marry you, too. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Hey, Pope! Mind stoppin’ by a jewelry store on the way home?” Frankie asked sleepily, eyes already slipping closed. “I gotta get my girl a ring.”

fin

[iheartduckie]

being best friends with oikawa and iwaizumi

reader x oikawa tōru | reader x iwaizumi hajime (PLATONIC)

900+ words | gender neutral

a/n - i just wanna sing barbie things by nikki minaj with oikawa in the car while iwaizumi drives like the smexy person is

warnings: unedited AND from 2021… how could it get any worse

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- you three (3) have been friends since childhood, often hanging out at oikawa’s

- the days you were together, you spent either playing around the neighborhood, watching the boys play volleyball, catching bugs, watching volleyball games on the tv, playing fun games, etc.

- oikawa’s older sister absolutely adorned adored you, and always joked about trading tōru for you and iwa

- for all of grade school, you, iwa and oikawa were practically attached at the hip

- you often supported them at their games, and with their passion for volleyball. understandably, you and iwaizumi had a secret agreement to watch over oikawa and make sure he wasn’t overworking himself

- when you heard about the incident with kageyama, you made sure that oikawa apologized and scolded him for giving the poor boy a hard time

- you also tried to make it up to kageyama by giving him a little gift basket and greeting him nicely in the halls of kitagawa first

- by the time you all enrolled in aoba johsai, your bond was unbreakable

- despite oikawa’s pleads, you didn’t sign up to be the manager for the volleyball club.. although this didn’t stop you from visiting them during practice, usually with snacks and the occasional gossip

- by your third year, the team and new members were familiar with you and recognized you as the team’s good luck charm

- of course, you couldn’t help but beam whenever you see oikawa perfectly set a ball for iwaizumi to spike

- when attending their games that are hosted at aoba joshai’s gym, they were both sure to designate a spot JUST FOR YOU

- both iwaizumi and oikawa are VERY protective of you, and would literally intimidate any potential suitors who try to approach you

- either oikawa or iwaizumi would leave you with one of their jackets, mainly so that people don’t mess with you

- the 3 of you would often have sleepovers too!! godzilla movies are probably watched (request of iwa), with relaxing face masks and baked goodies to indulge in.. the night often controls what you guys go

one sleepover, when oikawa got dumped earlier that day because of volleyball, you decided to have a self care night while watching the movie titanic.. trying not to laugh at the pictures iwa took of oikawa, you would help them apply face masks to the boys’ skin. oikawa looked silly with the hair clip you gave him to hold his bangs back, and as heartbroken as he was, oikawa was still down to sing “my heart will go on” with you. iwa would occasionally sing some parts with you both, but the fact that you all butchered that beautiful song- it just left you all laughing by the end of it. a video of you and oikawa was recorded by iwa, so it is used as friendly blackmail :D

- whenever you three (3) had outings, iwa always drived NO MATTER WHAT- AND HE LOOKED HOT while oikawa had the passenger seat and aux. you always sat in the back, either sleeping or singing along with whatever nicki minaj bop he chose (FAVORITE GO-TO SONG: BARBIE TINGZ)

- with oikawa’s fan girls, some of them hate you while some of them love you. oikawa constantly voices how they all want them to respect you, and they all understand that.

- if you were to ever go on a small date with some suitor, then i can GUARANTEE that they would follow you with terrible disguises (and positive intentions ofc) all while you try not to laugh at them

- if you were to ever hear about any of their crushes, you’d put in a good word for them.. and depending on how long the relationship lasts, you’d also befriend their s/o

- the gc you have is UTTER CHAOS thanks to whatever memes or funny insults oikawa sends

- facetimes are also a thing, as well as taking really funny and ugly photos of each other

tw: sad things (when they lost)

- whenever they lost the qualifiers against karasuno, you were there to comfort oikawa and iwa, plus assure the team that they were all good players regardless

- you were also the one who paid for the ramen after (make them pockets hurt ig)

- and you sat while they practiced one (1) last time as a team after the ramen, meaning that you were ALSO THERE WHEN OIKAWA THANKED THEM FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS AND UGLY CRIED WITH THEM TOO-

- moving on, graduation was one of the best days of your life. it was bittersweet, of course, but to be spending time with them both was all you wanted.. and even when you were all in different time zones, you all put the effort in staying in touch

- you all supported each other, and often sent them care packages from home while they sent you goods from california and argentina

- when iwaizumi came back to japan, the two of you met up more often, probably calling oikawa and just doing best friend things woo

- during the olympics, you were given special seats to watch the event takes place

- not to be sappy or anything ‼️, but with seeing how far your boys have gotten, YOU WERE ABSOLUTELY BEAMING WITH PRIDE WHEN YOU WATCHED THEM AT THE OLYMPICS

- overall, your friendship with oikawa and iwaizumi allows a very fun and carefree bond shared between the three of you

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iwaizumi hajime route | oikawa tooru route

reposts/feedback are appreciated!

masterlist