#the bliss that radiates from the bar kiss | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rreskk · 6 months

Note

HEYHEYHEYYYY love your work sm.

can you pls write about Trevors love for tits? without sex, maybe, as you wish. just so that he would spend a lot of time on the tits, touchin', saying something about them, licking, kissing, etc. ANDDDD PLSSSS NORTH YANKTON ERA, LOVE YOUR FANFICS ABOUT THIS ERA. 😥😥😥😥

Summary: It was a busy and exhausting day. Trevor was in a mellow mood and wanted physical affection in the most calmest way.

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 728 - short and sweet :)

TW: Suggestive?? (no smut though)

HANDY

“Have you turned the heater on yet?”

Stumbling occurred within the small motel room before he appeared out of the cluttered maintenance cupboard, his coat wide open and white shirt covered by this thick, cotton sweater. Gifted by you months prior.

Trevor nodded his head momentarily and removed his coat as it was tossed aside onto the lonely desk in the corner. He rolled up his sleeves and immediately adjusted the untamed mess of his hair, grease at every surplus and molecule, the hair shining off the nightlights glow.

“Yeah, yeah.” He responded in his usual outside voice.

You decided to test his honesty and raised your hands towards the radiator beside the bed. Trevor snickered at your wariness. He crawled onto the empty space beside you and waited for your approval, his eyebrows raised.

Warmth slowly poured from the electric heater; your icy fingers loosening up at the joints, finally feeling after being out in the cold all day running from bar to bar with Trevor and his friends. It was nice before a debate turned into an argument, and soon you were sat beside his friends wife in awkward silence, watching Trevor attempt to wrestle his friend in the middle of the bar.

You were supposedly angry but couldn’t stay like that for long. Something about his chocolate eyes and how it sparkled in the moonlight. You pathetically took him back into the motel, resulting to present moment where his arm started to snake around your waist and pulling you from the radiator.

“It’s on.” He whined and fell onto his back, bringing you with him.

The length of his arms – lanky yet firm – kept you in place. It moved from your waist to your chest.

“Hey.” You softly smirked and tried to look back at him, but he wasn’t seen. Trevor had snuggled against you enough to disappear from your sight. His face so cruelly nuzzled against your neck that it made you shiver.

“Warming up now?” His voice occurred from the fabrics of your shirt.

From that moment, you knew he hadn’t of turned the heating on. There was no noise coming from the heater beside the bed. He was obviously trying to cover it up with his body heat. And it was working.

“Mhm.” You blankly lied to feed on his pride, instantly feeling him grow more handy with his fingers.

Your shirt had been shuffled around until it came loose around the front. He had arranged your body to access the chest easier from behind. Trevor’s smirk could be felt against your neck as he began teasing you, his fingers slowly approaching your bra, sitting at the wiring.

No words were said since you didn’t want to break his concentration. By the pace of his hands, Trevor was taking his time. He was calm and collected. Encouraging him to undress you with eagerness would turn his tranquillity into mere energy and lust. In a day like this, so wintery and in bliss, you didn’t want that. So you stayed quiet and allowed him to play around with your chest.

“My favourite bra.” He announced after feeling the fabrics that covered your breasts. The fact that he could name his favourites of your bra from touch said a lot about his observations and sensory memories.

It made you smile, nodding gently. “Yeah.”

A small sigh left his lips and he sunk further against you.

Trevor took a few minutes then unclipped your bra as it fell from your shoulders. Delicately, he pulled it down your arms until your chest proclaimed freedom. He couldn’t see but he didn’t need to. He simply took you into his hands, the skin-to-skin contact making him groan with pleasure. Nonetheless, he was not aggressive like he usually was.

Instead, you rested your eyes as he lovingly groped at your breasts.

His hands were rough but in the best way. The skin was dry and hard on your nipples; it was a sensation that made you shiver in a humorous manner. Like being scratched on the back. It tickled nicely and was a relief to the tension held in your shoulders.

“The heaters not working.” Trevor finally mentioned while playing with your chest.

He chose the moment you were most at ease – typical behaviour. He knew you too well.

“I know.” You returned with a smile. “I don’t care.”

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freesia-writes · 11 months

Note

From the prompt list

“the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one.”

With Echo??? First clone I thought of! Have fun :) can’t wait to read if you decide to write it!

I DID NOT EXPECT TO WRITE THIS MUCH, LOL. Echo pulled a Crosshair! ;) Sheesh.

Echo x GN!Reader Word Count: 3k!! Content: bar fight, first kiss, SW-universe cussing. ;)

You’d gotten quite used to seeing them in Cid’s parlor – a motley crew of bounty hunters or mercenaries or whatever they were. You probably should have known the specifics by now, but they didn’t like to talk about work. And you weren’t paid to talk, you were paid to deliver things without asking questions. So when you found yourself lingering more and more often, lost in conversation with one in particular, you began to wonder if he would be bad for business. Yet somehow, you didn’t care.

Echo was a complete and total enigma – brave and cynical while also radiating warmth and integrity. You had so many questions that you held back, mostly because it wasn’t entirely polite to ask someone you just met why virtually half their body was cybernetic. So you stuck to the usual topics for a while: the local scene of Ord Mantell, the scum and villainy that was everywhere to be found, and random thoughts about the state of the galaxy.

Before long, you were surprised to notice how much you looked forward to your courier assignments that brought you into his vicinity, and you found more and more excuses to have extra time there. Instead of lurking around the other hot spots of underworld business dealings to pick up additional jobs, you’d take him up on his offer for a game of darts or a mug of disgustingly cheap beer in a corner booth. It became difficult to deny the sinking feeling in your heart when you trotted down the stairs into Cid’s and the team was absent on a mission.

But tonight, you were fortunate. The place was bustling – a whole new gang was in town, it seemed, and they were getting along well with the other less-than-respectable locals. The parlor was loud and lively, making it difficult to hear Echo over the incessant talking, scuffling, laughter, and shouting of all the patrons. His squad was enjoying a much-needed day off, scattered about the planet on their own pursuits of refreshment. Tech was working on the ship, Crosshair was seeking blissful solitude somewhere, and Hunter went with Wrecker and Omega on a Mantell Mix pursuit thinly disguised as a supply run.

Echo had chosen to stay here, and you were trying not to read too much into it. But the conversation had been particularly open and honest tonight, and your head was buzzing with the excitement of connection and the general joviality of the bar. Your mouth hung open slightly as he finished his story, finally filling in all of the details of how he had come to be what and where he was. The last vestiges of pain was receding from his face after having recounted his entire horrid ordeal, and you couldn’t help but place a hand over his after he downed the rest of his drink and slapped the glass on the table. The sudden intimacy caught his attention, and his pale brown eyes were large as he regarded you beneath the bluish glow of the neon lights.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling your hand back. “I just… can’t believe it all. You’ve been through so much.” Your words fell out quickly as you tried to move past the potentially awkward moment, but Echo stared at the table, at his own hand where yours had rested just a moment ago.

“Yeah,” he said absently, not meeting your gaze. “Not how I would have scripted it, that’s for sure.” He appeared to be deep in thought, sharp brows drawing together over his luminous eyes. When he finally did look up, he appeared to be brimming with something… a question, a realization… and he slowly opened his mouth to speak.

CRASH!

A glass bottle shattered against the wall above the two of you, causing you to yelp and fling your arms over your head as liquid and pieces rained down. The table scraped loudly as Echo flew to his feet, hawkishly raking his eyes over the crowd. But there was no question where the disturbance had come from – a brawl had broken out across the room, and the shouting was growing louder as two entire groups immediately jumped into a conflict started by just two individuals.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said urgently, pulling on his arm as you stood beside him. You knew when it was wise to make yourself scarce after having been caught in the crossfire more often than you’d like. These sorts of crowds were irrationally unpredictable and predictably irrational. Echo cast you a glance for a moment before turning back to the aggravated group, keeping his eye on them as they swung at each other and crashed into tables nearby. He seemed torn, giving you a quick nod but then muttering under his breath.

“They’re gonna tear the whole place up…”

Cid was nowhere to be seen, and other patrons were being dragged into the fight as it grew and grew. Tables were turning, glasses smashing, and it was all threatening to melt into utter chaos when suddenly a series of live blaster bolts exploded against the ceiling in rapid-fire succession. It was enough noise and light to catch everyone’s attention for a moment, allowing for a very temporary pause as Echo’s voice boomed across the room.

“Get out!” he shouted, standing on the seat next to you, blasters in hand. “Take this kriffing garbage somewhere else!” You were in shock, watching the various reactions across the faces before you. A good few of them took the opportunity to do just that, making their getaway before it escalated any further. But a few hard-headed beefcakes threw a couple more punches before advancing toward Echo.

“Come on,” you said fearfully, pulling at his arm again as he stepped down beside you in a wide, prepared stance.

“Yeah, listen to your tasty little friend,” the leader of the group teased, “Or we might have to teach both of you a lesson.” Echo bristled, head lowering slightly, and you could feel the rage emanating off of him.

“Don’t,” you pleaded, feeling frantic.

“Can’t turn away now,” Echo responded without looking away from the few hooligans with smug grins on their faces, drawing closer with every step. Your heart was pounding in your chest, mouth completely dry at the thought of him getting hurt, even though you knew he put his life on the line on a regular basis. You began looking around for something, anything that might change the course of action. But then it all happened at once.

Two of them leapt at Echo simultaneously, but his quick dodge left them running into each other. He rushed the third with his head down, plowing into his chest and smashing him into the wall behind. His head cracked against the stone loudly, and he sank to the floor unconscious. The others were back on their feet though, fists swinging in messy anger. Echo blocked one punch, landing a blow of his own and spinning the assailant to twist his arm up behind his back before squeezing the trigger on his blaster to hit the other one squarely in the chest with a bright blue stun ray.

A squawk of pain escaped the first and he dropped his weight to the side, pulling Echo down with him as he freed his arm. He leapt up in a flash, aiming a kick that caught Echo in the ribs as he scrambled to his own feet. The sound was sickening, and the breathless grunt that left his lips made you feel his pain in your own stomach. But he moved impossibly fast, ducking another swing and landing a rapid one-two punch that had his opponent spinning. A quick lean followed by a powerful kick sent the other man crashing through another table where he landed in a crumpled heap on the ground, unmoving except for the occasional squirm.

Echo was breathing hard, looking around quickly at any other potential attackers. But the rest of the crowd had either cleared out or was composed of the few remaining stragglers that were doing their best to maintain the semblance of normalcy as they drinked and chatted uneasily. He clutched a hand to his ribs, wincing with a scowl on his face, and you were by his side in an instant.

“It’s fine,” he said automatically as you touched his shoulder, face radiating concern and affection that you just couldn’t hide anymore. You were relieved that he was alright, and as your pulse slowly returned to normal, you realized you were also completely in awe of his capability in a way that felt like more than just… awe… You were trying to find the words

But you were interrupted by an angry-sounding tromping down the stairs from the street above, a sickening feeling rising in your stomach. As you saw a whole group of those same troublemakers from before, you realized who was associated with whom, and it was definitely time to go. You grabbed Echo’s arm, pulling him with surprising force toward Cid’s office. As he assessed the situation, you could see the indignation and anger on his face, but he ultimately allowed you to pull him away. When the office door whooshed shut behind you, you frantically tapped on the keypad to lock it from the inside.

“I know you could take them all,” you began, turning around to face him. He was standing, but leaning on the edge of Cid’s desk, face grumpy as he rubbed a hand across his ribs. “But it’s not worth it. There’s an endless supply of idiocy like that around here – you’re going to put a target on your back.”

“It’s just ridiculous that–” came his angry reply, but you stepped closer, cupping his cheek with a suddenness that surprised yourself.

“I know,” you repeated, softly this time as his exhilarating proximity registered in your brain and body. “Sorry…” you admitted, casting about for words, “I just…” You faltered, trying to explain something you were only just now fully realizing for yourself. “Are your ribs broken?”

The change of subject took his attention for a moment, and he felt the ridges and grooves with tentative fingers. He breathed in slowly, flinching when his lungs expanded to a certain point, and slowly let it out, raising his eyes to yours. “Maybe a little crack,” he said, the bitterness in his voice unfettered by the waves of pain.

“You get into fights often?” you asked, lowering your hand from his cheek to rest on his shoulder.

“Not if I don’t have to,” he answered, and you arched an eyebrow in response. “Alright, I know I didn’t have to say anything, but… it’s just not right…” His mutter trailed off as he shrugged, turning away in what might have been shame. You felt your heart swell in your chest at his sense of integrity, trying to find words to express it without completely giving away the depth of your feelings, but the beep of his comm interrupted your search.

Havoc 4, come in.

He pulled it from his belt, lifting it to his mouth with an apologetic glance to you. “Go ahead.”

There appears to be a significant disturbance in the area of Cid’s parlor, according to the local surveillance network. What is your location?

“Yeah, there was a bar fight, Tech. It’s fine, it’s over now.”

That is not what I asked.

“I’m at Cid’s,” Echo snapped, rolling his eyes at the pert voice on the line. “I told you, it’s fine.”

The comm was silent for a moment, and you met Echo’s gaze with a small, compassionate smile.

Understood. The ship is located in its usual docking bay, should anyone there require medical attention.

A click and a beep signaled the disconnect, and the smirk on Echo’s face had you puzzled for a moment.

“What?” you asked, unable to hold it back.

“‘S just karking annoying when he knows more than he should,” he grumbled, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement. He sighed, looking up at you as though he were fully realizing your softness, your lingering touches, and your blatant concern and admiration. He opened his mouth for a moment as though trying to decide what to say, then slowly closed it, regarding you evenly. You swallowed, suddenly wildly aware of every single muscle in your body, and tried to arrange your features into a neutral expression.

“”What?” Now it was his turn to ask, a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he tilted his head at you.

“What?” you echoed, eyes wide and innocent as you looked at him with the look of one accused.

“What… uh… What are you… so concerned… about?” The smirk was fading into a slight insecurity of his own. You took a deep breath, cheeks flushed red as your heart continued to race. Something about the thrill of it all and the sudden vulnerability in this private room had you reeling, with long-restrained feelings brimming at the surface and threatening to spill over.

“You,” you whispered, lowering your eyes and chewing on your thumb nail. “I care… about you.”

His own heart skipped a beat at your admission – something he had suspected, no – hoped for – yet felt entirely unworthy to believe. He rose to his feet, a cringe flashing across his face before he became still again, staring intently at your eyes. “You do?” he asked, voice husky and quiet now, disarmed entirely.

His tone was soothing and inviting, and the thinly-veiled vulnerability was entirely irresistible. Buoyed by the adrenaline of the evening and the thrill of the situation before you, you took a step closer, lifting your other hand to rest on his chest. Leaning in slightly, you touched your forehead to his, smiling at his sharp inhale and the subsequent closing of his eyes that completely melted your heart. You were helplessly entranced, and you brushed your fingers along his jaw before resting them on the back of his shoulder as you pulled yourself close.

Your lips met with a feather-light touch that sent sparks flying immediately. Your heart thrilled at the sensation, body exploding with euphoric tingles, and you pulled back quickly, keeping your foreheads together but remaining frozen in joyous disbelief otherwise. He let out a slow breath, as if soaking up every single second, then stepped back a few inches, opening his eyes to gaze at you in awe and disbelief and wonder and delight.

“Sorry if that was… uh…” you began, but he shook his head immediately, curling his fingers gently under your chin and touching the pad of his thumb to your lips to silence the rest.

“It wasn’t,” he said, eyes intent. “Unless… It was a mistake, or–”

“No no no,” you laughed, standing slightly straighter as he dropped his hand from your lips to your waist. “Why would it be a mistake?” He shrugged, casting his gaze off to the side with a sudden expression of sheepish disdain that you were wildly curious. Giving him a slight nudge, you pressed, “Echo?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, unwillingly meeting your eyes. “I just… didn’t think people saw me that way…” He fell silent, the magnitude of his words settling on your heart, heavy with compassion. You stepped back in, nestling yourself against his chest, and brushed your lips against his cheek as you whispered near his ear.

“Let me show you how I see you.”

In an uncharacteristic burst of courage, you looped both arms around his neck, bringing your lips to his with ardent intentionality. He stiffened for a split second before relaxing into your embrace, sliding his own arm around your waist and digging the other into your hair at the base of your neck. You felt as though you could swoon as he held you so effortlessly, and you tilted your head as you moved your mouth against his, deepening the kiss with a whisper-soft sigh. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested a hand on it, feeling relieved that it matched your own frantic pulse rate.

You kissed again and again, changing the angle, adding the tiny stroke of a tongue or the hungry tug of a lip. He seemed to grow before you, his presence expanding with an alluring mix of dumbfounded surprise that framed a strength, resolve, and passion that made your knees weak. His hands roved gently across your body, caressing you against him as his open--mouthed kisses grew messier. The sensation of his lips on yours, his taste filling your mind and sparkling with the sensation of his hands gliding along your skin… you had a fleeting concern that you may have died and gone to heaven.

But the dreamy reverie was broken suddenly as he pulled back, breathing hard and sucking in air as though his life depended on it. He drew the back of one hand across his mouth, one last shuddering breath escaping before he settled into a quiet, blissful smile.

“Didn’t think people saw you that way…” you scoffed in playful jest, shaking your head in utter disbelief.

“Well, I’ve been somewhat convinced that it’s untrue,” he returned evenly, the suggestive smolder in his gaze sending a warmth blossoming between your legs.

“Only somewhat?: you repeated with a grin.

“Somewhat,” he answered, cupping your face and leaning in again.

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#spicy echo #first kiss #echo fic #tbb echo #echo one shot #echo fluff #tbb fluff #tbb one shot #star wars fluff #clone fluff

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dreamonseems · 1 year

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Can you make protective Camavinga like “don’t worry everything is gonna be okay” “get behind me” when readers is in danger so he wants to protect her please?

Protector

Eduardo Camavinga X Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Eduardo are having a date night when some guys attack them.

Sorry this took a life time life's been super crazy lately, but I promise many more to come!

On a blissful date night with Eduardo, you found yourselves at one of your favorite restaurants, the air abuzz with the promise of a memorable evening. It was salsa night, a chance to indulge in a passion you both shared while reveling in each other's company. The weight of busy schedules and his absence due to matches melted away, replaced by the joy of being together once more.

As you entered the restaurant, the vibrant sounds of Latin music greeted you, filling the air with infectious rhythms. The aroma of delectable food hung tantalizingly in the air, whetting your appetite for the flavors that awaited. The ambiance was lively, couples and friends mingling, their laughter intermingling with the melodies that beckoned them to the dance floor.

Seated at a cozy table, Eduardo's hand enveloped yours, a warm reassurance that echoed the love and excitement that thrived between you. Conversations flowed effortlessly, weaving through the topics you both had missed during his absence. Laughter punctuated the moments of tender connection, painting the evening with hues of joy.

As plates of delicious food were placed before you, you savored each bite, the flavors dancing upon your taste buds in perfect harmony with the pulsating music. The energy of the room was infectious, drawing you both to the dance floor, where bodies intertwined, surrendering to the intoxicating rhythms.

Lost in the enchantment of the moment, you felt the gaze of onlookers upon you and Eduardo. Glancing towards the bar, you noticed a group of men, their eyes fixated on the two of you. Assuming they were admirers of Eduardo's football career, you dismissed it, focusing instead on the handsome man in your arms, his presence filling your heart with warmth.

The night progressed, the hour growing late, and you made the decision to call it a night. Standing outside, waiting for your Uber, you realized you had left your cardigan inside the restaurant. "Oh, I forgot my cardigan inside," you mentioned to Eduardo, a hint of disappointment tingeing your voice.

Without hesitation, Eduardo leaned in to plant a quick kiss on your lips before offering, "It's okay, baby. I'll go get it for you." His genuine concern and willingness to help melted away any lingering frustration, reaffirming the strength of your connection.

As you waited for him, a sudden jolt interrupted your thoughts. Someone had rudely bumped into you, uttering derogatory words under their breath. Looking up, you recognized the face of one of the men who had been staring at you and Eduardo earlier. Choosing to rise above the provocation, you turned away and began walking in the opposite direction.

Before you could take more than a few steps, a vice-like grip seized your arm, trapping you. A surge of fear coursed through you as the man sneered, his words dripping with malice, "Where do you think you're going, bitch? Where's your little bitch-ass boyfriend?"

Desperation took hold as you struggled to free yourself from his grasp, ultimately resorting to delivering a resounding slap across his cheek. Yet, the situation escalated, as two more men converged upon you, their intentions apparent.

Just as panic threatened to consume you, Eduardo appeared, emerging from the restaurant like a guardian angel. A mixture of fury and protectiveness radiated from his every pore as he sprang into action, fending off the assailants with a remarkable display of strength and determination. "Get behind me, baby," he commanded, his voice resonating with authority and unwavering love.

A tense standoff ensued as Eduardo confronted the aggressors, demanding an explanation for their actions. Their words dripped with bitterness and misplaced anger, blaming Eduardo's team for their perceived injustice.

Their insults echoed through the night, but Eduardo stood tall, resolute in his defense of you and his unwavering belief in his team's worthiness.

Despite the odds stacked against him, Eduardo fought valiantly, his fists a blur as he battled against the four men. Yet, as the struggle intensified, a glimmer of concern surfaced within you. Fearful for both his safety and the escalating violence, you rushed back into the restaurant, frantically calling for help.

Moments later, security personnel arrived, their authoritative presence quelling the chaos that had ensued. They swiftly intervened, separating the warring parties and ensuring that the authorities were alerted to the disturbance.

As the chaos subsided, Eduardo's attention turned solely to you. Concern etched on his face, he gently checked your body, ensuring you were unharmed. Tears welled in your eyes as the magnitude of the moment sank in, overwhelmed by the fear that had momentarily gripped your heart.

Taking you into his arms, Eduardo reassured you, holding you tightly as you sought solace in his embrace. "It's okay, baby. I'm here," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your rattled spirit. In that moment, you felt the profound love and protection he offered, his presence offering comfort and security.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Eduardo murmured, his voice laced with remorse. "I never wanted any of this to happen." His eyes bore into yours, seeking reassurance and forgiveness.

You cupped his face in your hands, the weight of the night's events heavy upon you both. "It's not your fault, Eduardo," you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. "We'll get through this together."

In the aftermath of the incident, the night was marred by the shadows of what had transpired, but your bond remained unbreakable. United by love and fortified by resilience, you held each other close, knowing that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

#fanfiction #fanfic #eduardo camavinga x you #eduardo camavinga #eduardo camavinga x reader #eduardo #camavinga #real madrid #footballer #football #soccer #love fanfic #love #fluff #fluff fanfic #eduardo camavinga fluff #eduardo camavinga image #fanfic imagine

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springdandelixn · 2 years

Note

This gif speaks for it’s self….

Imagine dark lee with reader. And Lee being a big mean belly baddy saying “you’re amazing, really. but i love them. not you.” 🫦

No One Special

Summary: You were never special to Lee. To him, you were simply one of them.

Warnings: noncon undertones, cheating, unwanted touching, hurt, and no comfort, physical abuse, Lee is a mean bastard.

Characters: Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

A/N: Thank you for this request, Bubba. My love for this belly daddy is truly through the roof and it was such a pleasure to finally explore his character. I hope you like it!

A drabble this may be, your feedback is highly appreciated. Likes are great but reblogs would be amazing! I hope you guys enjoy!💙

Your eyes begin to burn with tears as you stare from across the street.

You were going all over town just to look for him, even putting on a brave face when you headed to the station, asking his whereabouts from the other officers and looking at them in confusion when they simply chuckled and looked at you in amusement.

“Sheriff ain’t here, lil’ missy.” Officer Thompson said, a playful grin on his face as he looked up at you from where he sat.

“Left about an hour ago.” Another deputy added. “Probably at Ler—”

He stopped when Officer Thompson elbows him in the stomach, annoyance on his face as he glared at the deputy. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he meant. You just hoped that he was wrong, that they were simply messing with you. He wouldn’t be hanging around that place, he doesn’t even patrol that route; he told you himself. But the way they smiled at you sent a terrible feeling down your gut.

But they were right.

You watch as his eyes close in sheer bliss, Lorianne’s hand out of view and her eyes darting down at his lap. You already know what she was doing to him for you’ve done it so many times before. It’s what he taught you when he first invited you to ride in his cruiser, how to properly aim in the Pepsi cup so as to not make a mess of the seat.

You want to flee, to hide from the man you thought saw you as someone special since you were the only girl he rode around town with. Openly showing everyone who owns you and who owns him. But seeing him now, pleasure painting his face as his shoulders heave from the heaviness of his breath, all you can think is how much he’s been lying to your face. That you even start to wonder how many of Leroy’s girls he brings into his car at night just to do what Lorianne was doing.

A gasp escapes your lips when you catch Lee’s eyes on you, shock radiating through his face that slowly shifts into amusement. He smirks, his arm around Lorianne tightening as he pulls her closer. You watch her try to kiss him but he only shifts his face away, her lips pressing against his cheek instead as his mouth drops open and his eyes shut tight once again. You don’t stay to see how their coupling ends and turn away to head back home.

Along with the spring chill that howls through the night, you hear the shatter of your heart in your chest. The sheriff you knew and have come to love is not who you thought him to be. You were made a fool and you don’t doubt the other officers and girls of Leroy’s bar know what a fool he’s made of you.

“You alright?” Your brother asks when you get home and just give him a nod.

He doesn’t ask any more questions though you don’t doubt that he knows you’re upset. He bids you good night when you run up to your room, whispering one back that he cannot hear. The door slams and the tears fall instantly from your eyes, your body shaking as the pain runs through your veins.

Fuck you, Lee Bodecker! Fuck you!

You wipe the tears away. You won’t cry for that asshole, even if he’s the law around these parts. You won’t let him step on you and continue making you look like an idiot for the whole town to laugh at. Yes, you’ll show him! Tomorrow, as the morning comes, you’ll march right up the station and show him that you aren’t one to play with.

You stir from your sleep when you feel a tingling sensation run up your thigh. You move your hand to grab your blanket, wanting to shield yourself from the chill that you think is brushing against your skin. But your eyes open wide, the sleep leaving you all at once when the blanket is tugged away, leaving you exposed in only your night dress on the bed.

The hand returns to your thigh and you sit up, startled when you see Lee kneeling on your bed. There’s a playful smirk on his lips as he continues to push his hand underneath your nightdress.

“What are you doing here, Lee?” You say in a rush, your throat raspy from sleep and your hand pressing down on his to stop him. “How’d you get in?”

“Aron let me in.” He says sweetly, eyes trailing down your body before meeting yours. “And seein’ as you were upset when you stormed off earlier, I thought I’d pay my girl a visit.” He grins, his hand flicking yours away before continuing his trail and stopping at the curve of your ass, squeezing. “Make ya feel good.”

The sound of pain rings through your room as you slap your hand across his cheek. He’s shocked and so are you, his body still yet his breathing heavy. But you waste no time leaping from your bed when his nose flare and he snarls in anger.

“Fuck you, Lee!” You spit as you stomp to the door but before you can even open it, the air is knocked out of your lungs as he pushes you against it. “Lee!” You groan, feeling his weight press against your back, his hand circling around the back of your neck, and gasping when he squeezes.

“You fucking put your hand on me, girl?” He snarls, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. “I could bring you in for assaulting an officer!”

“You hurt me!” You cry and wince when he squeezes your neck again. “You don’t love me!” You try to speak but his weight only suffocates you further, making it entirely hard to breathe.

“Love?” It’s almost a whisper as he says the word, gasping for air when his hand leaves your neck but only moves it to press it against the door, trapping you still. “When’d I say I loved ya, girl?” He laughs darkly, moving to turn you around and having you face him. “You’re an amazing fuck, sweetie, but ya ain’t that special.”

His words prove to be more painful than any of the physical pain he’s given you. You should have known from the start, should have seen the signs. How the officers would chuckle when you show up unannounced at the station, how they would snicker when Lee would take you to his cruiser. Even that one time you saw Natalia smiling at him while you both were at the market shopping for berries for his pie.

You only realize you’re crying when Lee reaches up to brush the tear from your face. You turn away and will yourself to stop, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’s gotten under your skin.

“Then go to one of your whores and leave me alone.” You cry and try to push him away but he only cages you again, pressing his stomach against you as his hand drops down on your shoulder, wincing when he gives it a hard squeeze.

“I’m already with you, ain’t I?” He smirks and you freeze in terror when you hear the jingle of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper ringing loudly in your ears. “Now be a good whore and make me feel good.” He hisses, a whimper leaving your lips when he pushes you down to your knees, his other hand fumbling with his pants as he pulls his cock free. “And if you do well, I might even call you my favorite.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you enjoy my stories and want to be kept updated, you can follow my archives blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications. Thank you!!

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker drabble #lee bodecker au #the devil all the time #request fic #request by lokiandbuckysdoll #coconut bun stories

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anlian-aishang · 2 years

Text

SNK Men - Rebounding After You - Eren, Armin, Jean, Levi, Erwin, Reiner, Zeke

// exes!snk x ex!reader, angst, semi-smut, alcohol mention, smoking cigarettes, gn!reader // read also: Rebounding With You

Eren

He was upfront about it: happenstance to some, intentionally to others.

His roommates noticed how your socks had disappeared from the dryer. Friends saw old sweatshirts return to his outfit rotation. Prescriptions and ripped photographs rested on overfilled trash bags. A box of condoms readily and shamelessly displayed on his nightstand.

To his rebounds, that was neither the most explicit nor first indication of his intentions. In the club: a hand to the wall, his fingers beneath their chin, a harsh kiss. On the pullback: “Listen,” he would snarl, “I am fucking to forget.” Eren recognized that his words drew mixed reactions, some nervous laughs, some lip bites, but always the enthused yes when he asked if they would like to come home with him.

Stripping them free of their clothes, his haste was interpreted as rampant desire, a need. Their minds snowballed at the thought of how much he needed them, but really, what he needed was evidence - evidence that they’re better than you were. Their waist, more delectable, right? Their taste, sweeter, right? The passion, the sex, the kiss, all better…right?

Each night, with his partner passed out beside him, he would take in their moonlit features. Even with the stars twinkling, their blissed sleeping face, dressed only in sheets, he recognized: no, they’re not better.

Throwing his arm over his head, he was faced with his forearm tattoo: Forward. No matter how many times he drew those backward comparisons, it would not stop his routine - not until he found that someone better than you. Eren knows they’re out there.

Armin

Armin knew better. He knew better. Plenty of fish in the sea. Bigger things in life. He was in his twenties, still a whole life ahead of him. No matter how many times he told himself that, though, it did not fix his feelings. The brain and the heart, although connected, were not the same. His thoughts immaculately logical, his heart stubbornly refused conversion.

Still, he was not a defeatist. He made sure to try new things and see old friends. Waking up early, catching the sunrise with a book in hand. Every Wednesday, trying a new spot for lunch. Thursday nights, an old bar with his hometown buddies. On his calendar, he crossed off each day, and soon, it was visibly apparent how long it had been since his split with you.

Shortly after, the glow of his new healthy habits began to radiate. Neighbors wondered who the slender silhouette was at 5 AM in that window sill. His coworker asked him for his restaurant recommendations, wondered if he could show them how to get there. That one regular heard both his intelligent speech and sacred laughter from across the lounge, and after a few drinks, yearned to grow closer.

More Xs on the calendar, more and more attention towards the wallflower. He was never and never will be a player, but at last there was proof to his theory: plenty of fish in the sea made you seem like less and less of a catch.

Jean

Fingers made fists in his hair. Tears fell, landing on his jeans, seeping through to his skin. He was not mad at you, not at all. You insisted it was you, not him, but yeah, right. Someone as nice as you, of course you would say that.

Uncharacteristically, he slammed his hand down against his mattress. Mad at himself, he couldn’t stand being in his own skin. Between sobbing breaths, “You fucking idiot.” Another punch. How could you let them get away?

You had taught him how to love himself - which was why, after you left, all he could think was that he needed you back. What he really needed, though, came along with time. The classmate who noticed he was confused and tipped their notes towards his direction. The staff who called him after he left his credit card behind at their establishment. The patron who saw him sitting alone and asked if they could take a seat. One by one, using the lens you gifted him, he began to notice how loved he was - even by complete strangers.

But there were more than just strangers in his life, and when those more intimate found out that he was single, they were eager to show him more than you ever could. They grabbed his hand in public, kissed him long and hard, cherished his body - prioritizing his happiness as much as their own. In the lows of his self-esteem, every act of affection felt like a new high. He thought he had the best in you - and maybe he had - but after feeling his worst, the tiniest efforts of others make everything feel better, including the broken heart you left.

Levi

Stupid. Fucking stupid. This whole dating thing, he was better off on his own. He had known that all along, but had suffered a lapse in judgment when he first saw you back then. A momentary mistake that evolved into a year-long regret.

It took a few days for him to fold your clothes and box them up. It took much longer for him to get over you. Levi would rather die than talk to anyone about it, but his friends could soon enough tell. He holed up - even more than usual, rejected their invites, and after a while, your split was all but communicated.

Having had enough, of course it was Hange to arrive on his doorstep. Knocking incessantly. As soon as he opened the door, Hange snatched his wrist and threw him in their passenger seat.

Angry, but no tears left to cry. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

Sharp jam of the child-safety locks. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

That someone just similar enough. If he was a man of faith, he could have sworn it was you reincarnated. But with the same pull he experienced on your first date, he was beginning to become a believer.

When he kissed them, he thought of you. When he fucked them, he felt you. Pleasure - so fucking good - drowned out the drone of his underlying doubts: Another mistake. Another mistake.

Erwin

Workaholic. It was his means of survival after the death of your relationship. At the same time, it was the cause. A clusterfuck he had yet to understand. So much time away, whether he truly was at the office or having external affairs, that was not the crux of your downfall. The passage of time was cruelest, a seemingly miniscule aspect was deeply wicked: drawing wild thoughts and exponential anxiety. Nights that he came home just a couple hours late, they blew up with a break-up. Before he knew it, it was all over.

Now that there was no you to return to, he had no real reason to get home at reasonable hours, and oh - how he had searched for one. Unfortunately, though, it came to this point: a duffel bag with overnights hidden under his desk and a pile of take-out containers threatening to peek over his garbage bin.

So far, it had not been affecting his work performance. Neither clients nor his superiors had noticed the changes after you left.

There was one coworker, though.

The city had just gotten past rush hour. In the background, occasional honks and sirens made their voice sound more heavenly, “Hey, Erwin.” Fingers curled around his door frame. A hand effortlessly on their hip. “Burning the midnight oil again, huh?”

Pen in hand. Hand on cheek. Erwin glanced up from paperwork that suddenly felt meaningless. A low smile encouraged more.

“Before you know it, the sun will be up.” A couple sauntering steps brought them into his office, “What say we hit happy hour before then?”

Now that there was no you, “Why not?”

That was what he told himself each step of the way. When they leaned in for the first kiss, why not? When they invited him to spend the night, why not? When their lease was up and they proposed moving in, why not? What he never asked himself, though, was why? Why them? Busying himself, the worker bee never let that question come to mind, for if he had, he would have to reconcile: because they were not you.

Reiner

He swore, he swore he would never find anyone after you. A pain that deep. The belly aches. The empty bottles surrounding his bed. The nights he had woken in a cold sweat, hoping it was just a bad dream: he would reach over, feel you there, and find reassurance. Only thing: you weren’t there, not anymore. Reiner vowed to never love anyone again.

But with each day came new leniency. The barista at his coffee shop, serving java and a smile: a break from relationships, at least a year. The tailor of his jacket, measurements taken in the most agitating places: when the time is right, you’ll know. The new hire who clung to him throughout all of orientation: things will go differently.

In just a month, the never find anyone after you evolved to never to love anyone the way I loved you which finalized: never to love anyone like you.

At last, a vow and a break-up that he could live with. One that became preferable. Appreciation garnered each time they kissed him, hugged him, caressed him. He began to forget the sound of your voice, the feel of your skin. His scars began to heal, hesitation left behind. From I want to take things slow. To you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.

Wasn’t it you who had said those same words to him? But it was getting harder and harder to remember those promises, that relationship, everything about you.

Zeke

The smoker turned chain. Sharp tongue turned silent. A beard unkempt, just like his apartment: he had not shaved since you left, had not even thought about cleaning. Even when the ashtray overflowed, even when every article of clothing had gone wrinkled, he did not raise a finger. If not for the smell of tobacco, it would be your perfume still in his sheets. If he did the laundry, he would have to sort yours. Snapping and shutting his lighter, glasses glared with the flickering flame: he wasn’t ready for that.

Others were ready, though. The biggest, tallest, cockiest tease in city limits was newly available. And if scrubbing the traces of you was something he could not do, there were a dozen on the block who would play a French maid to help him out with that task, however innocently.

He did not wear innocence well. He did not search for it in others. What he came to appreciate, though, were the lights and buzzes of his phone: Heard about what happened. Here for you for whatever you need. Depending on who was on the other end, whatever he needed could be anything from a pat on the back to a hand around his cock. If you had not blocked his number, his victorious impulses may have let you know: he was getting plenty of the latter, getting over you one night at a time.

// masterlist //

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jordanstark007 · 4 months

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Chapter Seven

Alex Cabot / Amelia Chase

(A/N I’m unhinged and honestly what Amelia does in this chapter is something I’ve been nothing to do since I started watching SVU.)

Did Alex prepare for hostility from the SVU squad? Yes she did. Did she prepare herself that that hostility might extend as far as her and Amelia’s date night? No.

She’d gone out to take a work call, an update from the case they’d caught that morning, before she made her way back inside, what she hadn’t expected was the sight of two familiar SVU detectives.

She approached quietly, listening to what was being said, before finally inputting her own thoughts into the matter, she felt entitled to they were discussing the case over her glass of whiskey after all.

“A first offence with no priors any good lawyer would argue for a fine and no jail time.” Liv looked up at the new voice, her first instinct was to assume it was Casey but that slicked back hair that was Amelia.

“I think Alex is uh, dining with the enemy.” Amelia but her tongue reminding herself that these were Alex colleges and therefore she was expected to be polite, Alex looked up at her with pleading eyes,

“Can you give us two minutes?” Amelia nodded pressing a quick kiss to Alex’s temple,

“The games on at the bar, I’ll go check that out.” The desperation drained from Alex’s face replaced with only great fullness, and appreciation for the woman she loved.

She returned her attention got the two sat opposite, watching as their glare followed Amelia, “Really Alex she’s a criminal.”

Alex clenched her jaw, “Actually she’s an FBI Agent now, now back to the case, please.”

Amelia was promptly and swiftly smacked on the back of the head by both her sister when they saw her next, Casey was a result of the squad complaints towards her and Alex following that night and Abigail was simply because she didn’t want to feel left out.

Everything progressed at a calm and steady pace from that moment on, Alex and Amelia simply enjoying their blissful honeymoon stage together.

The squad of course were still hostile, even more so when they found out Amelia was now working for the FBI, but the snide comments had ceased, (although that was likely on account of Enzo of whom had been growing thoroughly frustrated with his wife’s anger and Alex’s sadness, she’d snapped in the bullpen, her voice raised for the first time in SVU history and it seemed to rattle them enough to prevent any further comments).

It didn’t however prevent the harsh glares that followed Amelia, not that she minded, she understood their position and she couldn’t fault them for it.

She reached the end of her rope however, while in the SVU squad room, she was collecting case files for a serial rapist that SVU had pushed over to the FBI.

She seen a glimpse of Alex as she exited Cregan’s office the ADA smiling at the sight of her girlfriend and Casey offering a smile toward her sister before continuing on toward the interrogation room.

“What you doing on this side of town.” Amelia pointed toward the files,

“New case, well it’s an ongoing cold that needs profilers, SVU kicked it over to us.” Alex nodded, her hand reaching for Amelia’s before they heard the grating sound of Elliot stabler enter the bullpen.

“Oh look the FBI’s letting in just about anyone nowadays.” Amelia muttered something under her breathe that Alex didn’t quite catch, but she shot a glare Elliot’s way,

“Elliot leave it.” He laughed sitting muttering something only he and Amelia heard under his breathe,

“You want to say that a bit louder to my face this time, Stabler.” Alex pulled her back slightly the tension in Amelia’s frame radiating from the Agent in waves,

“Yeah I think it’s pathetic that the FBI have employed you and I think what Alex is doing is an abomination to the oath she took when she became a prosecutor she’s an embarrassment to the bar.” He stood as he spoke, the pair now toe to toe, glaring at each other,

“Back of Stabler before I-” The detective cut her off,

“Before you what? Cuff me to a bed and rape me like you did Peter Smith?” That was it, an echoing crack echoing the precinct as Elliot fell backwards landing on his ass and Amelia shook off her fist.

“Elliot!”

“Amelia!”

Elliot was hoisted off the floor as Amelia pressed a kiss to Alex’s temple, whispering softly in Alex’s ear, “I’m sorry.”

Alex waved away the apology, a short kiss exchanged, “Don’t worry about it, now go before you start a brawl, I’ll see you tonight.”

The Agent nodded walking toward the elevator and Alex’s attention was reinstated on the squad, she pondered for a moment, before pulling out a form from her briefcase.

“That is an official request for a new leading ADA, you stop the comments and complaints or you officially hand that over to Arthur Branch or Captain Cregan. Either way any more comments about my relationship and I’m gone, Homicide have been begging for help and I have a place there if I need it.” The squad all nodded silently, Alex walking past them all, meanwhile Cregan glared at his team,

“I don’t think I need to remind you but if we lose Cabot, then we lose Novak as well, they’re a pair that come together, and if they leave I’ll have all your asses.”

The expressions of the team where that of scorned children who’s been told off for drawing on the walls or making a mess. Sharing glances they continued with their work, nothing but apologies spewing from their lips when they each had the opportunity to corner Alex while alone.

She received them, but it was up to Amelia to accept them, it wasn’t her that the team had been harassing for crimes she was excused of.

Liv apologised first extending the apology to both Alex and Amelia, they Elliot although Alex noted the clenched jaw and white knuckles. Fin and Munch followed suit without difficulty and Alex found herself civil with the team. They were still reluctant to understand but she no longer had the urge to throw things at them.

#law and order svu #alex cabot #casey novak #l&o svu #svu #feral adas #lgbtq #feral detectives #amelia chase

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thefreakydeaky · 1 year

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You're No Good (Part 4)

Negan Smith x Reader

Various TWD Characters x Reader

Summary: Your husband came up with a way to keep you out of troubke, but trouble just won't stay away from you.

Warnings: Are we beyond warnings about cursing or am I crazy? Smut, Angst

The day came when you were to meet your ex for drinks. You saw him as soon as you turned the corner. He was sitting at the bar, a drink already in front of him. He looked handsome in a black button up shirt, only buttoned halfway up his chest, the silver charm of the necklace he always wore sitting between his pecs.

He stood up when he saw you. Your eyes were drawn to his thick thighs the denim material stretched taught over them. You were quick to switch your gaze back to his face. You reminded yourself you were only here to be polite and catch up as with an old friend.

"Hey Darlin'. Long time no see." He greeted you. He gave you a bear hug that you found yourself sinking into. He gave the best hugs.

"Shane." You returned.

"Don't you 'Shane' me. You ain't seen me in ten years."

"Hello Officer." You teased, using the words you used to greet him with back then.

"It's Sergeant now." He told you proudly.

"Ooh, Sergeant Walsh? Nice."

He laughed.

"Alright, I'll admit. It is pretty nice." He grinned. "How you been?"

"I'm good. Kind of inbetween jobs right now, but I'm happy."

"I'm glad you're doing well." He put his hand over yours on the bar top.

The bar tender came over then and you gave her your drink order.

"So, how's life been treating you?" You asked.

"All in all pretty good, but you've missed plenty." He teased, his dark eyes filled with glee.

You smiled.

"Tell me."

Three drinks and a couple of shots later you were pulling your dress up over your head in the swankiest hotel room you had been in since your honeymoon. You struggled with removing your sandals. Shane unclasped your bra for you and you took off your panties. Having undressed faster than you, he followed you onto the bed already nude. He kissed you hard, his tongue slid into your mouth. You spread your legs as wide as you could, hungry for him.

You didn't have to wait long. You sucked on his tongue and he groaned. He positioned the head of his penis at your entrance and pushed into you. You moaned in pleasure at the sensation of his thick cock filling your cunt. He stayed like that for a moment adjusting to the tight fit. Then he pulled slowly out. He repeated the action carefully, again, and again until your wetness dripped out around him.

You hardly took in another breath before he pounded into you. He took you fast and rough like he always had in the past and it got you every bit as hot as it used to. You had many problems during your relationship, bad sex wasn't one of them. You were slick with your arousal. The sounds your bodies made together, a wet and obscene slapping got you even wetter.

"Yeah, you can take it, Darlin'. Hold onto me." He told you, his voice seeming even deeper than usual.

You grabbed onto his shoulder panting and whimpering. His hand squeezed your breast. You reached down and toyed with your clit. Your fingers pinched and flicked at the stiff peak of nerves. Shane entered and withdrew more and more quickly. The contact that his shaft made with your walls sent tingles up your spine. The pleasure radiated through out your body.

"God, I missed this." You uttered. "I love the way you fuck."

He thrust into you all the more aggressively. The slight pain heightened your pleasure. You slid your fingers over your clit rubbing it in circles. You were right there, right on the edge when he reached down and knocked your hand away, replacing your fingers with his own.

The calloused tip of his finger stroked your bundle of nerves in a beckoning motion and suddenly you were seeing lightning behind your eyelids. The incredible sensations increasing and exploding in one blissful moment.

Shane kept fucking you as you began to decend from your climax. The feeling stoked little sparks of enjoyment in you. You didn't think you could get any wetter and yet you felt more of your arousal seep out of you. He moved in and out of you. You clung tightly to his shoulders. Crying out as pleasure coursed through you again. He thrust four more times. He slipped out of you quickly and released a sound like a low groan as he came on your pelvis.

You lay there in the fluffy bed afterwards, sated and pleasantly surprised. After worrying so much about seeing Shane again, to have it turn out this well was more than a relief.

He turned over and kissed you deeply. You welcomed the embrace.His dark brown eyes gazed down into yours.

"I know we fucked it up last time, but we've matured. This time it could work."

Your eyes widened. He cupped your jaw in his hand, his thumb caressed your cheek.

"Give me another chance. I promise you won't regret it."

You blinked once, twice. The sleepy sated feeling ebbed almost immediately as his words registered.

"I...I can't." You managed to say.

"Why not?" He inquired plaintively.

"I'm married."

He moved away from you.

"What?!"

"I'm married." You repeated.

He stood up regarding you with a look of horror.

"You didn't tell me that! You never told me that!"

You sat up.

"You never asked." You said simply.

"That's your excuse?"

You shrugged.

"I never thought we would end up having sex. If I had, I would have told you from the beginning."

"You could have told me!"

"Oh yeah? Like when? When we were making out? When we were getting undressed?"

"Yes. You could have stopped to tell me any time." He sat at the foot of the bed as you put on your underpants.

"God, what did you make me do?" His voice was strained.

You continued to dress, ignoring him.

"What the fuck happened to make you like this?" He barked, going from disturbed to angry in the space of a minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't make you do anything. You did what you wanted to do. What we both wanted to do. So let's just, get dressed and we'll go our seperate ways."

"You didn't used to be like this." His tone was accusatory.

"Like what?" You sighed annoyed. You pulled your pink dress down over your head and shimmied it back into place.

"A cold hearted bitch." Shane bit off.

"Hmm...Don't miss that." You huffed. You went and grabbed your purse. Although you had planned on doing so here, you would shower at home.

You began putting on your shoes by the door.

"I won't forgive you for forcing me into an affair. I hope you know that."

You stood up straight.

"We're not having an "affair".This was a one time thing. And you know what? I never wanted your forgiveness. I was just curious what you'd been upto over the years." You admitted and left the room.

#shane walsh x reader #Shane Walsh x You #negan smith x reader #Negan Smith x You #twd x reader

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reclusiverisottonero · 1 year

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💬💬💬💬

Hi Momo! sdfgsdg i'll try to do all four! They're all under the cut bc it got a bit long 😓

its hard to pick just one thing from Red Wings, but here is one part that look back on I really like:

He’s trying to give you time to adjust before he starts moving, which you appreciate but don’t really want nor need after everything from before. Small, needy twitches of his hips give away the erosion of his control, his gentle rutting into you becoming more of an annoyance since you know the type of pace he's capable of. Without warning you lift your legs to firmly trap his waist between them and force his cock the rest of the way inside in one smooth motion. The enrapturing moan that escapes from Risotto’s heaving chest, his ragged breaths pressing his tits further into your face, has your body clenching and throbbing hard around him. “You are fucking insatiable ,” Risotto throws his head back with a low groan of your name, “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot inside. I just—you’re so—” “Don’t you know by now, you don’t need to be careful about anything with me.” You chuckle at the gasp that startles out of him when you rake your nails over his nipples, “Now c’mon, hurry up and make a mess in me.”

And god, it's so hard to just pick one piece from Rose Tinted Glasses:

A blissful sigh is drawn out of you once Risotto finally bottoms out, his brows pulled up tight and hands trembling. Your cuffed hand wraps around the bar of the bedpost while the free one unconsciously settles atop his chest, over the rapid-fire beating of his heart. Right now in this stolen moment there’s nothing else in this world but you and Risotto and the heat radiating between your bodies as he moans your name like a prayer. If it weren’t for your stark differences in height you’d be kissing him even more senseless then he already looks right now. “Missed you so fucking much.” Risotto groans, and without further preamble he plants his feet on the bed to start fucking up into your cunt in effortless, soaking wet glides.

Looking back there's parts I would totally rewrite now if I wasn't so lazy, there are still parts of Endurance that I like:

“Sir, I need to cum, pl—” Risotto begins to tug at his nipple piercings, wheezing out more sad little noises. He flexes his jaw on the words like it pains him to say them out loud more than your foot on his dick does, “Please Sir, agh , please let me cum.” You don’t even give him the grace of pretending to think about it, “Not yet. I don’t think you've learned your lesson. Besides, you always look so pretty when you’re crying and begging for me like this.” Risotto arches back into the chair and makes an amusing noise you’d compare to a dying animal. The chair clatters under his thrashing weight forcing you to adjust your footing. You can’t help but giggle at the way his tears come faster now at the denial.

And then this part of The Five Stages. If I could quote back the entire aftercare scene I would but this part I enjoy just bc I love the thought of massaging Pros spanked up butt:

The now soiled cloth is tossed aside so you can coax him to lie on his front to relieve the pressure on his backside. Ice would be the ideal solution to the swelling, for both his ass and crotch. Wish you could have a pack of it at the ready at your nightstand without it melting down before it was needed. A trip to the kitchen wouldn’t take long but in your eyes, leaving him alone when he’s like would be an unnecessary cruelty. You pull open a drawer to take out the next best thing, a bottle of cooling aloe gel. Starting at his thighs upwards, you take a generous amount of time to thoroughly massage him. Keep your touches soft against his obvious vulnerable spots while digging into any knots you find along his back. His skin soaks up the gel like a sponge, so you’re more liberal in its application on the second round. With how relaxed and pliable he is right now it’s an overwhelming temptation to eat him out that you instead channel into suckling kisses along the small of his back. He finally begins to stir as your fingers dig circles into his hips. “Aah," Prosciutto sighs, wiggling around to get comfortable and inadvertently shaking his ass right in your face. He lets out a loopy giggle when you plant light kisses over both aloe-shiny cheeks.

WHEW!

#asks #momokujo

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j-elaine-hyde · 2 years

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Now & Then - Part Three

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader / Captain Syverson

18+ MDNI / WC: 2,700+

You burst through the doors into the dimly lit parking lot. “Logan!” You shouted. Spinning around, you surveyed the entire parking lot, curious how someone so large could just vanish. “Logan Syverson!”

“Congratulations on the engagement.” He gruffed from somewhere on your left. “I wish I could say I was happy for you. But that would be a lie.”

Following his voice you found him sitting on a boulder at the edge of the parking lot in front of two parked trucks.

“Why are you here Logan?” You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself feeling more vulnerable than chilled.

“I heard you were here.”

You already knew it in your heart, but hearing him say it made your stomach jump into your throat.

“I didn’t know you were seein’ anybody though.” He looked off into the distance and knife-hand motioned without saying anything. Pausing he dropped his hand and sighed.

You stood there in silence staring at him. Knowing the only way to get him to talk was to make the silence uncomfortable. So you waited.

He looked up at you with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen. He dropped them to your feet as he pulled open his shirt reminding you of his tattoo, and he shrugged. As if you could ever forget. Your eyes quickly darted to his forearm to see if he had covered that one up.

It was still there unchanged just as the other.

“I figured you’d have covered those up by now.” Your voice sounded small and weak.

“I never will. I told you… you’re the only one for me darlin. I’ll die with you in and on my heart. There will never be anyone else sweetheart… not for me anyway. That’ll never change.” He looked defeated. The ache in your chest rose as this hulking man sat deflated on the rock. “Did you cover yours up?” He raised his eyes to look at you.

“No.”

“Does he know what it means?” He nodded his head at the bar as he stood up, shirt still open revealing his incredible chest as he lumbered towards you.

He kissed you on the forehead, holding you steady by your shoulders. “I’m sorry I never put you first. It’s my biggest regret.”

He lingered with his lips on your forehead. Your knees went weak as you remembered their pillowy softness on every inch of your body. The way his beard tickled and left the slightest burn in its wake.

Your past with him flooded your brain as you breathed in his scent.

You slowly opened your eyes. The sweet Italian air wafting in from the open window brought a smile to your face. You watched the curtains softly billowing as you stretched. The oversized bedding swallowing you, making you feel small. Rolling onto your stomach you stretched your legs, nuzzling your face into the soft down pillows. Your entire body ached. Logan had worshipped every inch of you the night before. Parts of you you didn’t even know could be tender or sore were making their lamentations known this morning.

The low hum in his throat accompanied by his finger tips sliding up your body put the biggest smile on your face and filled your body with a radiating heat from your core. He kissed a trail up the middle of your bare exposed back. He growled a content purr as he kissed the top of your shoulder and breathed you in.

“Good morning darlin… How’d you sleep?” He sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, prompting you to turn over, his eyes immediately darting to your chest.

His unconscious need to see every inch of your naked body always put a smile on your face. Teasing him further you sat up and stretched. He cocked an eyebrow catching on to your game, but enjoying it nonetheless.

“LIke an angel… I always sleep like a baby when I’m next to you.”

He picked up your hand and kissed your palm softly, moving to the inside of your wrist and placing another. You had never felt more loved than you did when you had Logan’s undivided attention. Unfortunately these blissful moments never lasted long before he was being called away again. Another mission. Another trip to the sandbox. Another few months of little to no contact wondering if you’d ever see him again. Praying he’d come back to you safely.

You were in your head mulling over all of it and the frown on your face and furrowed brow gave it away.

“Come back to me. Right here. Right now.” Another kiss on your wrist pulled you back to focus on his chiseled face.

“I brought you some coffee. There’s breakfast waiting downstairs.”

Sudden surprise danced across your face, “You cooked?”

Syverson was a man of many many talents. Cooking was not one of them.

He laughed, “No darlin… the housekeeper did. It’s actually edible. Don’t worry.” He shook his head with a small grin, “she made the coffee too. So you’re safe.”

Pulling the blankets up around into your armpits you reached for the coffee noticing its caramel hue. He had already put in your creamer and sweetener. He always took such good care of you when he was home. Always so attentive. You breathed in the amazing aroma and sipped it gingerly as you watched Logan retrieve your robe and slippers.

“Thank you.” You happily smiled.

“Anything for you, my love.” He was smiling contently when something inside of him pulled him away. You saw his eyes change as he zoned out. He slowly stood up and stalked to the window, looking out but not seeing. You knew he was having an internal battle between the life he led and the life he wanted to have with you, something closer to the life he promised you when he proposed. You felt a pang in your chest knowing his job would always come before you. The realization never failed to cut you like a knife to the heart.

Trying to take a deep breath to stave off the tears your breath hitched in your chest. Just that sound alone caused Logan to suddenly turn and look at you. “Are you ok babygirl?”

“Yea honey… I’m okay. The coffee is good, thank you. I just really want a shower, I think I’m going to take one before breakfast.”

He pulled his tee-shirt off of his giant body and you almost drooled watching him. He was the epitome of manly. HIs burly chest had a smattering of chest hair that drove you wild. His rippling muscles were chiseled but soft enough to snuggle. You felt a familiar fire between your legs just watching him remove his shirt. And he could see it in your eyes.

“Mind if I join you?” He winked at you, already knowing your answer. “I’ll get the water started.”

You took a few more sips wiggling your feet in happy excitement before climbing out of bed and making your way to the bathroom.

A naked Logan stood in the bathroom at the sink trimming his beard in the mirror. After admiring his thick, juicy behind you caught a glimpse of yourself in the full length mirror. You turned to study your figure. You skin was peppered with Logan finger sized bruises and love bites.

As you studied yourself two massive hands slid around your waist, looking in the mirror you locked eyes with Logan. “I’ve gotta be a little more careful it seems… You’re covered in bruises. Someone is going to think I mistreat you.”

You shook your head ‘no’ and turned to face him, “Don’t you dare. I love the way you touch me. I can’t get enough of it. …I crave it… I’m addicted to you and I can’t get enough.”

“What if I kissed you…here?” He bent down and kissed your shoulder. “…and here?” Moving to your collarbone on the opposite side his lips gently touching you as his tongue made a trail along the path of it. His warm rough hands tenderly unfolded your arms. “Here too?” He nipped at the top of your breast, undoubtedly leaving another mark. He dragged his tongue across your flesh, circling your already hardened nip he sucked it into his mouth causing a moan of his name to escape your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck he buried his face in your chest before raising his eyes to yours and passionately kissing you. You felt it from your lips to your toes and everywhere in between. He slowly lift you as he held your legs around him. He smiled, “I bet you’re already wet and I haven’t even really touched you there yet…”

You pressed your lips to his, your hands behind his neck pulling him closer, his tongue seeking yours.

He gently held your hand in his as he kissed your palm slowly moving to the inside of your wrist, his breath hot on your skin between kisses. It immediately brought you back to the present. Back to the Hard Deck parking lot, where you were no longer his and he was no longer yours.

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and backed up. Still dazed from your flashback.

Holding up your hands in protest, “You need to leave Logan. Go home.” You quickly turned and walked away.

“You are my home. Where do I go without you?” His words stopped you dead in your tracks. You felt like you got hit by a train. They came out of nowhere completely wrecking you. The wind was practically knocked out of you. Tears filled your eyes as you stood there trying to catch your breath. You heard the bar door open and Jake’s voice calling to you, not fifty feet away.

“Y/n… Baby… Everything alright out here?” You shook your head ‘yes’ rubbing your wrist as if to remove the tattoo and his kiss.

“Goodbye Logan.” You ran towards Jake’s outstretched hand, taking it and allowing him to usher you back inside without protest.

You tried your best to shake it off. The memory. The goodbye. The signature Logan Syverson wrist kiss that might as well have felt like it was burning as it continued to linger on your skin. You wanted to forget all of it.. You plastered a smile on your face as Rooster played the piano and the entire squadron sang along. Half focusing on Jake was all you could manage. HIs smiling face, beaming with pride was your only beacon.

You looked down at your empty glass, using it as an excuse to give yourself a little distance from the revelry.

“Where you at Y/n? You’re awfully far away in those eyes.” Penny could see through your facade.

“Saying goodbye to Logan out there just hit me a little harder than I thought it would. That’s all. Just saw a ghost, you know?” You looked at her sweet understanding face and knew in that moment no one else understood you better than her.

“Those ghosts’ll get you every time. Mine still haunts this place too.” She nodded over to Maverick who was singing along with the rest of the group.

“We must be crazy…” you laughed, sadness still drowning your features.

She poured you each a shot, placing one in front of you. Toasting, “To our ghosts.”

You clinked your shot glass to hers, tapped it on the bar, and put it back. It seemed to help wake you up out of your fog as she slid another drink to you. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“Thank you Penny.” You grabbed your drink and sulked back to the table with the happiest face you ever did muster.

Jake greeted you with a smile and a kiss to the temple as he grabbed you around the waist pulling you to him.

He had never been happier in his life and you felt awful knowing you weren’t sharing his happiness in this moment. You prayed he wouldn’t see it and you didn’t ruin his night.

Penny could see it. And Phoenix did too. She smiled big and continued to sing as she pulled you away from Hangman pointing to the back of the bar.

Inside the safety of the big stall you lost it. The tears started streaming, your chest heaving with sobs.

She handed you paper towels, “I thought I saw the levy about to break.”

“Thank…you…I’m…sorry.” You were hyperventilating at this point. “I’m…so…happy…but…I…had…to…say…good…bye…again.”

“Yeah… that’s… that’s not easy.” She watched you crouch down hugging your knees trying to recover. “Do you regret it? Choosing Jake over Logan?”

You sniffled and tried calming your breathing.

“Yeah, do you regret it?” Jakes voice was cold and flat from outside the stall.

By the time you registered what he said and got up out of your pathetic crouching position he had already stormed out of the bathroom.

“I’ll go get him. I’ll be right back. Stay put.” Phoenix bolted out the door.

You tried splashing cold water on your face and worked to steady your breathing. Pacing and shaking your hands at your sides you focused. In…out…slowly in…slowly out.

By the time Phoenix was able to convince Jake to go back into the bathroom you had cleaned up your face and calmed down for the most part. Tears still brimming, but no longer for Logan.

He kept his head down as he shuffled back in, refusing to look at you, Phoenix pulled the heavy door shut behind him.

“Do you want him? Or Me?” He loudly asked, his face was stoic. Stone cold. Ice had to have been running through his veins, you could hear it in his tone when he asked you.

“You. One thousand percent you. Every day for the rest of my life. You.” You reached out but quickly dropped your hands when he remained unmoved.

“I got upset that I had to say goodbye to him again. That’s all. It doesn’t mean I love you any less but for a very long time I loved him with every fiber of my being. Jake I’m sorry. …I never loved him as much as I love you. …But I did love him. And it destroyed me when it ended. It took me a long time to heal from it. I’m not even completely done healing but I never thought I’d love anyone after him. I had given up. I couldn’t do it again. …I wouldn’t. And then you showed up. My own personal Superman…you swooped in and saved me. In so many ways…” your voice breaking, the tears streaming he looked at you and softened, his own tears forming.

“Jake I love you. Obnoxiously so. I wake up smiling and go to bed smiling. You keep me on my toes…you love me like no one has ever loved me. I never question your love. It’s always there. I told you when you proposed that I would have married you the day I met you, and I would have. …without hesitation. You are the other half of me I didn’t know I was missing. Every crack you filled, you made me whole. I found home in you. Safety, security. Yes, you leave for work like he did, and I worry just the same. Every minute you’re gone I’m praying you’ll come back to me. And if one day you don’t I’ll soon follow. There is no me without you. Not now. I love you Jake… there is no choosing, it just is. You. I don’t regret saying good bye to him. I don’t regret any choice I’ve ever made when it comes to you. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I had to say good bye. That part of my life is over, he’s a ghost from my past and nothing more. But he made me realize even more how lucky I am that you love me. You love me like he never did. And I’m grateful for it every day… For you. I love you.”

He stood there silently, a tear trailing down his gorgeous cheek. His eyebrows raised as he looked at you, registering the weight of your words. Simultaneously you collided together, a frenzy of hands and lips exploding in passion. He held your face away from his to really look at you.

“I love you even more than that my dearest.”

#romance #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #glen powell #henry cavill #jake seresin x reader #cpt syverson #syverson x you #syverson fic #hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x y/n #hangman fluff

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Home | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five goes through everything with his best friend, and when they return with the announcement of their marriage his siblings are appalled.

Request: “I can request a FiveXreader where the reader is loving, sweet and naive, Five's best friend but the reader has no powers (You can invent a way how they became best friends and they are in love with each other, cliché but I love) One day the reader was sitting in front of the Umbrella Academy and saw Five leave in a hurry (The scene that he will travel in time) In this the reader does not abandon Five and decides to travel in time with him, they end up trapped in the apocalylipse, can you make them stay together? (Like married I don't know) And also the scene where they go back to 2019? Sorry, if this so bored”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. After a failed mission, he and his siblings decided to sneak out. Klaus had spotted a park on the way home, and that’s where they went. For the first time in years, they felt like kids again. They were all ten years old and had never experienced a playground before. Allison had never laughed as much, and Diego seemed to finally forget his insecurities while swinging from monkey bars.

Even on occasion, Luther would help Ben cross the monkey bars. Vanya was finally included, and Klaus had never seemed so carefree in his life. But Five had his eyes on someone else. She sat at one of the navy blue tables, quite a ways away from the playground, watching the siblings with a soft smile on her face. A notebook was in front of her while she twirled a pencil in her hand.

Curiosity killed the cat. Five was too intrigued not to sit with her. So despite this probably being the only time he could experience a playground, he sat in front of her, obscuring her vision from his other six siblings. Her eyes met green ones; they looked evergreen in the dark of the night. His hair almost looked black, but she knew it had to be dark brown.

“Good evening.” Her voice, it sounded like heaven to him, “Evening.”

It felt awkward, and the silence could’ve been cut with a knife, “My names Y/n.”

“Five.”

“Five? That’s unique.” Y/n complimented, and his cheeks flushed, “Thanks….”

Her vision went back to the other kids, “You’d think they’ve never seen a playground before.”

“They haven’t.” Five stated, looking at his siblings, “Our father is strict, so we snook out to come here.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as rude-“

“You didn’t.” Five smiled, looking at her e/c eyes.

Since then, Five would sneak out a lot more. His power was a fantastic tool. When he and his siblings began to sneak out more, Five always invited her. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya seemed taken with her. Y/n was always so kind and sweet. Her laugh radiated, and it made everyone around her smile. It was like she was Aphrodite, and he was Ares.

After becoming friends with the academy kids, Y/n had a habit of sitting outside the academy. She usually sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her notebook on her lap, pencil in hand. Five couldn’t remember a time when her hand wasn’t covered in graphite or ink from drawing. He adored it, though, because it was so her. It made him stare at his black pens, aimlessly smiling, knowing that she probably had the same color ink on her hand.

Becoming friends with Five meant knowing his ambition. Five Hargreeves was driven by his goals and wanted to do them regardless of the consequence. So Y/n knew about his dream to time travel despite his father's wishes. On a gloomy day, Y/n sat on the sidewalk. The only thing drawing her from her daydream was the slam of a gate.

“Five!”

He didn’t turn, “Five!”

Y/n grabbed his arm, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m going to time travel.” Five stated with that daze in his eyes, “And you need to stay here.”

“No! I’m not letting you go alone!” Y/n exclaimed incredulously, “Y/n, please.” Five pleaded.

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. Either we go together, or we stay here together.”

“Fine.” Five reluctantly agreed, holding out his hand for her.

Hesitantly Y/n slid her fingers through his. They were intertwining their hands together. Five was so focused on time-traveling correctly that he didn’t notice the pink flush on his best friend's face. But he did it, once and twice—finally a third time. Smoke clouded the area, and fire could be seen for miles.

Y/n dropped his hand and covered her mouth. Five circled in his spot in shock. He felt nauseous and queasy. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. They were stuck. Fucking hell, they were stuck, and he couldn’t do anything. Y/n ran back to the academy, and Five followed her. The h/c haired girl stared at what used to be the Umbrella Academy. Now in ruins. Five dropped to his knees, tears collecting in his eyes.

“It’s- it’s gone….”

Y/n hugged him tightly, “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna be-“

Five didn’t get to finish his sentence. He pushed her away and threw up to the side. When he finished, Y/n took her jacket sleeve and wiped it around his mouth—gently combing his hair from his face. Y/n had never seen Five look so drained. Seeing her in front of him, taking care of him made him break. Five broke into sobs holding onto her like a lifeline. Y/n rubbed his back and held him just as tightly.

“I’m here, Five. I’ll keep you safe.”

Being thirteen in an apocalypse seems like a death sentence, but when you grow up the way Five did, it’s more bearable. The first few months were awful. Searching for shelter, food, clothes. It was downright hell, but they made it through. On cold nights Five would hold her close to his chest, and on hot nights Y/n would always manage to get him cold water.

Years passed, and their friendship turned into a relationship. They needed each other to survive, and they just needed each other. Five couldn’t be more grateful that she insisted on coming. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone. But now, he had his girlfriend leaning her head on his shoulder while watching the fire. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaving occasional kisses on her temple.

“I couldn’t imagine this world without you.” Five confessed, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Y/n challenged.

He smirked, “Oh, really?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, smartass.” Y/n snorted, “Too late, it’s already there, my love.” Five retorted.

She kissed his cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.”

Five years later. They were twenty-five, and he wanted to make it official. It was a rather cold day wherever they were, and Five was holding her closer than ever. Y/n was shivering on the old mattress they had found. She was constantly snuggling closer to Five’s chest. They laid facing each other, and Y/n’s head was tucked under his chin. Five’s hand ran through her long hair - after being unable to cut it - soothing her nerves.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I want you - Y/n - to marry me.” Five repeated, looking down at her.

Her teeth chattered, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else to choose from.”

Y/n glared playfully, and Five chuckled, “Asshole.”

“So, what do you say? Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I say that if my fiancé doesn’t stop being an asshole, then I won't marry him.” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I love you too, pretty girl.” Five replied, smiling softly.

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to muzzle closer into him. Gently he pulled the two plain rings he found. They were battered, of course, and the gold was dirty, but that didn’t matter. Five slipped the ring on her finger and his. Y/n placed a gentle kiss on his lips that he gladly returned. Sweet, soft, passionate, and full of love. A description of how she was.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Five replied, “Now get some sleep.”

Y/n was about to fall asleep when she heard Five mutter one last thing, “Y/n Hargreeves.”

29 years. 348 months. 1512 weeks. 10,585 days. Until a woman showed up in their shelter, offering them both a job. Five could remember pushing Y/n behind him defensively. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt in any interaction he had. The woman offered them a way home. Five turned to his wife, and she saw it. For the first time in forty-five years, she saw it. Hope.

Y/n took Five’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. The softest smile crossed his features before agreeing with the woman’s offer where both of them became assassins—partners in crime. Nothing turned Five on more than seeing his wife fend for herself, and god, was she good at it. Y/n was so naive and innocent when she was ten. But now? At the age of fifty-six, she wasn’t that girl anymore.

But when they reached the age of fifty-eight, Five finally found out the correct equation. They were at their last mission, make sure John F. Kennedy gets shot and everything goes to plan, but Five had different ideas. Taking Vanya’s book from his suitcase, he looked over the equations one last time. They were going back; Five would go home today.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, love?”

Five sighed, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go home.”

Y/n’s smile was blissful; Five could’ve fainted on the spot, “Home?! Like- Like-“

“Home.” Five answered to his overjoyed wife.

Y/n kissed him more passionately than ever. Five could feel her gratefulness in her kiss. His hands placed themselves on her waist, and hers were around his neck. God Five never wanted to forget this feeling. The feeling of his wife in his arms, kissing him as she would never get enough. When they pulled apart, Five opened the portal. Gripping her hand, they jumped through and landed on the leaf-filled ground in the icy rain.

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five and Little Y/n, or is that just me?“ Klaus asked, not trusting his eyes; maybe it was an illusion from the drugs.

Five and Y/n stood up. The first thing Y/n noticed was the ring on her finger was too big now. But Five looked down at the suit he had been wearing previously. The blazer now reached his knees instead of his waist, and Y/n’s shirt was hanging off one of her shoulders. Five and Y/n looked at each other. They were thirteen all over again.

“Shit.”

He grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her into the academy. Y/n had only been in the academy a handful of times before, and she usually was only allowed in Five’s room because she wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. His siblings followed aimlessly and took their spots at the table.

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five inquired, grabbing different things around the kitchen.

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Y/n took place beside him as Five began making a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. The same snack he used to love as a kid. Y/n could remember him trying to eat it back at their apartment the commission provided them but complained it was too sweet. It seems that being in his teenage body again made him crave the sweetness of the snack.

“So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther questioned, but no one answered, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed, “It’s been a lot longer than that.”

The same big spatial jumped behind Luther as he began to take marshmallows from the cabinet, “I haven’t missed that.” Luther murmured.

“Where’d you two go?” Diego asked.

“The future.” Y/n answered politely, “It’s shit, by the way.” Five added spatial jumping beside her again and gently kissing her cheek.

The siblings stared in shock at Five’s sudden act of affection; Five could feel their eyes on him, “What?”

“You just kissed her.” Allison stated, “And?”

Allison didn’t say anything, “Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife or something?” Five asked agitatedly.

“Wife?!”

“Yes, wife.” Five sighed.

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed.

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five began as he looked through the fridge, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.”

He came back with peanut butter in his hand at the front of the table, his wife beside him; he took in the appearance of his siblings, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled.

“Wait, how did you two get back?” Vanya questioned.

“In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.”

Diego couldn’t wrap his head around it, “That makes no sense.”

Five went to remark, but Y/n cut him off, “It doesn’t have to. All that matters is that we’re back.”

“How long were you two there?” Luther queried, “Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Everyone looked at the two teens in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“Well, not exactly. Our consciences are 58, but it appears that our bodies are back to 13.” Y/n answered.

“Wait, how does that even work?”

“It seems that Five might’ve gotten the equations wrong.” Y/n replied, and Five glared at her, “I’m not mad! I’m just happy we’re home. Appearance be damned.”

Five took notice of the newspaper in front of Y/n, “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Luther inquired, “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five retorted.

“Heart failure?” Y/n asked, “Yeah/No.” Luther and Diego contradicted.

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.”

The teenage boy began to walk away, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison questioned.

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.”

Vanya was the first to get up and hug Y/n, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Vanny. Me too.”

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t-o-m-hollands · 3 years

Text

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though.

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is.

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away.

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it.

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you.

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet.

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over.

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all.

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position.

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen.

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations.

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile.

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga.

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger.

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him.

And it’s been so long.

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue.

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet.

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass.

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war.

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room.

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be.

Because of that stupid goddamn bet.

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan.

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly.

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck.

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room.

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost.

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand.

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips.

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.”

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.”

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it.

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters.

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile.

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey.

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements.

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge.

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress; loose limbed and starry eyed.

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up.

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves.

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days.

But you are not going to be the first one to give in.

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not.

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool.

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’.

He does. And fuck.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die.

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell.

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor.

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth.

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt.

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest.

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do.

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing.

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching.

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it.

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it.

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

“You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish.

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?”

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands.

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door.

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear.

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.”

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled.

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself.

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back.

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion.

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock.

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them. Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing.

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue.

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder.

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls.

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths.

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting.

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon.

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him.

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

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pascalpanic · 4 years

Text

Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two

Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic

W/C: 2.7k+

Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced

A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie

As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.

The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.

Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.

It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.

Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?

Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image

You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.

Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around

Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon

Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here

Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me

Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((

Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡

You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.

The last text was only four minutes ago.

Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.

Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood

Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.

You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.

“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”

“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”

“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”

“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.

“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”

You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.

Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.

Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”

You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.

He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”

Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.

Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”

Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”

“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”

“Oh, snap!”

“Shit, man.”

Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.

The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.

“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”

“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”

“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”

“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”

He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”

“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”

“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.

“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”

“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”

“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.

“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.

His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”

The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”

“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.

“Tingly?”

“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”

“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”

“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”

“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”

It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.

The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”

You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.

He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.

“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.

You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”

“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.

You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”

“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.

You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.

Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.

Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.

You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”

He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.

“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.

Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.

“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.

Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”

“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”

He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.

“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”

“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”

“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”

“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”

You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”

“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.

“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.

“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.

He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.

read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS

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@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales headcanons #frankie morales headcanons #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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edgeofmyniall · 3 years

Text

champagne and sunshine | part I

inspired by the movie “monday”

synopsis: On her last weekend in Greece, Paige starts an entanglement with a guy she just met, even though she knows perfectly well who he is- international pop star, Niall Horan. Days and nights filled with alcohol and sex, she finds saying goodbye to the country and man hard to do.

warning: lots of sex, several public sex scenes, and a lot of wishing i was ofc

word count: 4k

Thursday night

I hadn’t known him for long, but the way his mouth moved against my skin felt like we had been together before- in another lifetime maybe of sex and champagne. Drunk off his touch, my fingers weaved through his salty brown hair as our hips swayed to the music. It was utter bliss as the night’s heat blew around us. His fingertips turned through my yellow sundress, burning holes in my tanned skin that could only be filled by him. His head was in the crook of my neck planting succulent kisses as if he was drinking up the sun from my freckled skin. His nose brushed against the thin strap of my dress as I felt his grip on my hips become tighter, pulling me even closer to him. His bare chest peeking through his unbuttoned shirt radiated heat that touched my own sunburn. It was fire to the whisper of our skins and I was all consumed by it.

I could drink in his scent- the musk of sun rays and sweat seemed to control my body as I wrapped my hands around his neck. He flashed me a smile and I knew I was a goner for the night. It was the way he carried himself, so mysterious yet willing to open up to me.

I had only known him for an hour, but I knew he was mine.

It was the alcohol talking, but when I met him at the bar of the small club, I couldn’t help myself but to kiss him. To know what he tasted like. He was glowing with confidence after coming off from a set. He was scheduled to perform and even though I missed it, I could still tell he was a good time waiting to happen.

His lips were soft and warm, tasting of spearmint and beer- a local combination for Greece. It tasted like heaven as the music boomed overhead and I could feel his hands cupping the back of my head, my hair threading through his fingers, and all I knew is that I wanted more.

I was dizzy from the clear booze and being around him. My words slurred as I tried to introduce myself, but I couldn’t put together a simple sentence to string along other than, “let’s get out of here.”

He waves to two men standing outside the villa: one is older and the other one is burly, ready to take whoever on. We both laugh, my head falling to his bare chests and his toothy smile paint the pavement as we begin to walk off.

I don’t know how we made it to the beach, but there standing beside me as the shells crunched under our feet, I began to strip out of my dress, unafraid of who might see me. He cupped my breasts, toying with my sensitive nipples with his fingers. It was a sensation that I was familiar with, but the hands that gave me the whirlwind feeling were foreign and I needed to familiarize myself with.

His tongue swirled around mine as we bruised our lips together, teeth clashing into our skin and as I pulled the strings of his bathing suit, he let out a soft moan- begging me for more.

We fell to the ground, laughing at our drunken clumsiness, but his fingers had a mind of their own as they dipped into the land of honey, circling my clit. My back arched and fire set course through my body making it hard for me to breathe. The sensation had pulled every ounce of heat toward my lower abdomen as I felt myself falling in a timeless manner only for him to pull his fingers away.

He hovered over me before letting his thick member slide inside me. Squeezing my walls just so, we laid in this position only for a moment as I felt his dick throb. “Jesus Christ.”

His thrusting was sudden and invigorating as he held his head high, pushing himself into me over and over again creating a rhythm only him and I know. Balancing his weight on one of his hands, he takes the other, cupping my jawline with it as he slowly drags his thumb across my lips- a moan escaping my mouth. His finger pad scrapes against my teeth as I begin to suck his thumb like a lollipop, my tongue swirling around his knuckle and nail.

The seashells were pushing into my back as he pulls me legs onto his shoulders, pushing himself farther inside me. I grasp his biceps as his thrusting becomes faster and I feel the sudden urge of letting go coming on. I arch my back and I feel my inner walls squeezing as I moan out as the heat swirling in my lower abdomen suddenly floods out.

His grip on my hips becomes tighter as his eyes squeeze shut, his face contouring into one wrinkle as his brow furrows. His gasps out loud like he was holding it all in as his body rocks slow and arrhythmic. He keeps me in this position before pulling out, the sudden cool ocean air chilling me.

Too tired to think or care, I contort my body to the side of him as he folds his arm over me. My eyes become heavy and the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore slowly drifts me to sleep.

Friday

I’m prodded awake not by the sounds of children splashing around in the shallow water, but by a black steel toe boot gently kicking the sole of my foot. Jerking awake, the sun blares down on my hot skin and I suddenly realize that I am laying completely naked in the arms of a stranger. I elbow the man I had shared the night with and he groans awake with an all too sudden sitting up, his hands cupping his cock and balls.

“Officers?” he squints into the sun as the policemen help us up. I stare at the ground hurriedly looking for my dress, but it is nowhere to be found. My partner in crime quickly hands me his shirt to at least partially cover myself with. He smiled as the officer cuffed my wrist together and as we both sat in the back seat of the police car, I couldn’t stifle the laugh that was building inside me.

The tan god that sat next to me with the slight stubble chuckled as he pulled a seashell out of my hair. “Keepsake,” he called it, but as I twirled the circular shell in my hand, I extended my free one to him.

“Paige,” I said my name slowly, hoping he wasn’t too hungover to forget my name. My head was hurting like a throbbing annoyance, but I couldn’t forget a face like his.

“Niall,” he took my hand and shook it before chuckling again.

“I know,” my eyes followed his chest hair down to his torso and my mouth suddenly went dry. “I, uh, I’m sorry about all this,” I waved my hands in the air while Niall’s grip still was on me. He leaned over, smiling, his eyes shining bright blue in the morning light. “I’m not normally one taken for a nudist, but I must say, we did a hell of a job last night.”

“Yeah, you practically tackled me at the bar,” a smug look plastered on his face. “Hate to say it, but we’ll probably make the front page of the local paper.”

“Again, not my normal prowl,” I looked at my legs that felt completely bare as I finally wiggled my way out of Niall’s grip. “And it’s always been a dream of mine to make the front page.” Niall and I burst into a fit of laughter. The passenger policeman turned around to intimidate us with a stern look, but it only added to the snickers after he turned around.

They booked and fingerprinted us and put us in an empty cell together long enough for us to feel how empty our stomachs were. When they finally brought us out, they asked for my ID and passport.

“Shit,” my face scrunches as terror and disappointment flood me. “I left it at the...um....” I roll my linked hands in the air as I try to think of the word. God damn what was it called? Niall finally speaks up and finishes the conversation in the officer’s native language. He smiles and laughs at what I think is my expense and I am starting to get slightly annoyed.

The balding man with the eat shit grin unlocks my cuffs before Niall’s and as I rub my reddened wrists I turn to leave the yellow colored station. “Wait,” Niall calls out to me as the warm sunshine glows on my skin. My head is hurting, I am starving, and I have no earthly idea how to get home.

“Of course, you speak Greek,” my hand hovers above my eyes to block out the impeding sun- the hot gravel burning my feet.

“I’ve picked up enough words to hold a decent conversation, yeah,” Niall stood beside me waiting for something. “What did ya want me to say? Top o’ the mornin’ to ya? Jesus,” he smiles to himself before reaching into his blue shorts to pull out a cell phone.

“Phone’s dead.” Two words had made my day go from bad to worse. I needed to get back to the club to grab my purse and go home. I wanted a hot shower and some decent food. Niall turns and retreats back into the police station as I hear my stomach grumble. A few moments later, Niall is laughing with an officer making their way to an empty cruiser. Niall holds open the car door and turns his hand, gesturing me inside of another cop car.

I groan, cursing whatever bad luck gods that may be, and walk over the hot gravel to sit in the back of the car, seeing that this was my only option.

The police officer dropped us off in front of the bar that Niall and I left last night. The sidewalk was littered with paper, cups, and what looked to be dried vomit, but I tried to focus on opening the front doors of the club only to find out that they were, indeed, closed.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I tried pulling the handle one more time hoping by some miracle that it would open, but it didn’t. I laid my forehead against the glass door and sighed. “Damn it, my keys are in there. I just want a hot shower and breakfast. Is that too much to ask for?” I’m asking myself this question more than I am anyone else, but Niall took it upon himself to tap me on the elbow, grabbing my attention.

“My car’s this way. What do you want first? Shower or food?” His head was pointed down the block behind us and as I let go of the door handle, my face scrunched into a sour look, highly frustrated with the entire situation.

“Shower, but I’ll need some of your clothes unless you want me half naked all day,” I groan as I begin my match in front of Niall, acting like I know what kind of car he drives.

“I don’t mind at all, actually,” I hear the cockiness in his voice as I come upon a grey Tesla. I stop on the sidewalk, looking back at Niall, and he shakes his head. The soles of my feet are burning as we continue our trek down the pathway, hoping we come to Niall’s car soon.

We stop at a black BMW after we play our game of stop and go several times. I don’t know why I didn’t just follow him, maybe it was my grumpiness of the morning or the twisted desire I’ve always had to be first in everything, but the cool air hitting my face when Niall started his car was a life saver.

“I’ve got a villa I’m renting just outside the city. Shouldn’t take long to get there,” Niall smiled as he slid on his sunglasses. He indicated that we were pulling into traffic and as I sat back in the passenger seat, I could hear his faint humming and slight tapping of his thumbs on the steering wheel. It was what I had assumed magic felt like- a peaceful happiness that we had slid into. I barely knew him, he barely knew me, but it’s like we had known each other our entire lives.

“Where ya from?” he asks casually as if he was reading my mind. “I have this knack for knowing where people are from. If you want to play.”

“Sure, nothing else to do while you’re driving me to my dump site.” He laughed at my joke, but for some reason beyond me, I trusted this man.

“Ya don’t seem like a European, no offense. You don’t have that look about you.” He looked at me from the side of his glasses.

“And what look is that?”

“Like you’re fucking miserable all the time,” he laughed at his own little joke like I was supposed to know what that means. “Let me guess, you’re from the states.”

“Correctomundo,” I say, my tongue playfully teasing the corners of my smile. “But where from?”

“Um, you live on the west coast for sure. But you’re originally from the south maybe? Like Florida,” he smiles to himself, hoping he got it right.

“Oh my God, you got it!” I reply sarcastically. Niall smiles and laughs at himself.

“No I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t,” I half laugh. “I live in LA, but I grew up on a ranch in northern California.” Memories of my childhood flood my mind, filling me with nostalgia. “It was fun.”

“I was getting farm girl vibes, but a horse ranch-“

“Cow,” I corrected him.

“Cow ranch works too,” Niall and I laugh at the game we play. I know a few things about Niall from articles and interviews, but nothing to know him personally unless you count last night so he fills me in on how he hates lemons in his water and he finds American politics beyond frustrating until he comes to a beach front villa just outside the city.

He ushers me inside and shows me the way to his bathroom, an entire room filled with expensive personal care things and rich people smell.

The overhead shower hangs above my head, the hot rainfall soothing my aching muscles as I relax in the water. I wash my hair and body with all things Niall and I wonder if he has had anyone depend on him like this, especially a complete stranger.

As I get out of the shower, I suddenly realize that I have no towel and none of the cabinets have anything for me to dry off with. I creak open the door and call out to Niall, but he doesn’t answer. There’s nothing but silence.

Leaving droplets of water where I go, I begin my search for him. My body begins to turn cold when I find him standing in the small living room talking on his phone that’s currently plugged into a charger. I am self aware that I’m standing naked so trying to cover myself up with my hands I clear my throat tempting Niall to turn around.

“There wasn’t a towel,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper as I look like a child in trouble.

“I’ve got to go,” Niall says as he looks at me, hungry. I hear the sound of a male screaming for Niall not to hang up, but he does so anyways and the next thing I know, Niall is kissing my wet skin with his tongue swirling around my shoulder blade. I hitch a breath, Niall’s sudden movement took me by surprise and as I lean into his hands holding the back of my head, I drop my own hold of my body and begin to pull off the old shirt that Niall is wearing….again.

I pull him into a kiss, his soft lips brushing over mine as his feet stumble over mine. He pushes me down the hallway, stepping over my trail of water. My feet hit the step up to the bedroom and with the force of Niall pushing me towards the bed, we fall onto the floor- his body pinning me to the white carpet.

Niall’s head flows like water down my torso, smiling as giggling as he plants kisses on my wet skin. He moans happily as I look at him biting his lip before pushing his tongue inside my entrance. His nose tickles my clit as his tongue swirls inside me and I feel the electricity bolting through my body.

My hands find themselves kneading through Niall’s hair gently pulling it as he moans inside me- his hot breath pushing me to the edge. My legs begin to uncontrollably shake as he presses his hands into my hips to steady me.

My chest concaves as I try to find my breath. My vision turns to black as all the heat in my body rushes to Niall, drawing near him as if he was its master. And he was. He controlled me with the flick of his tongue.

I call out his name as I am tipped over the edge, letting my release fill his mouth. His fingers swirl in my ecstasy and as he clambers back over my body, he holds his fingers above my mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he whispers and as my mouth sucks on his fingers tasting the sweet saltiness that was me, his eyes grow dark. He takes my hips in his hands and flips me over and then pulls me onto my knees.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Paige, I-“ but there wasn’t an ending to that sentence as he slams himself inside me, thrusting hard. I rock my hips with his, rubbing my walls against his hard cock. He grabs my wet hair and pulls it as he continues to push himself inside me.

Niall takes my hips and holds me still as he increases his thrusts, each harder than the one before as he runs against my wavy ceiling. I cry out as I feel myself losing control again. I want him to go harder, faster, do anything but stop.

“Don’t…stop,” I breathe, leaning on my arms. “Fuck.”

“Come for me, baby girl,” Niall demanded, and his words were my demise. I come onto his dock, slick with panting. “Jesus Christ,” he swears again before his thrusts become erratic and I feel his body tense as he grunts out, his ending spurting out inside me.

He pulls out and lays on the floor before laughing. I roll onto my back and playfully hit him. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re going to have to shower again.”

“As long as you join me,” I look at him with full eyes and Niall leans over to me with the intention of what I think is kissing me, but he takes my face in his hands and runs his tongue across the length of it. “Swear to God, you’re disgusting.”

Niall laughs as he gets up and extends his hand out and before I grab it, he promises not to do that again.

“Swear on my life, this best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” I say between bites of egg as we sit in the small restaurant. I chug down the mimosa as Niall cuts into his sandwich.

It took us another hour to get showered and dressed due to us playfully teasing each other and my protests of Niall altering his clothes to fit me.

“I still can’t believe you cut your grandpa pants,” I’m wearing a pair of light blue pants that my grandfather would have worn in the fifties, however Niall took a pair of scissors to the Tom Ford pants to make them half decent on me. He had given me a worn out Eagles white tee to tuck inside the waist.

“Wasn’t ever going to wear them, really. They look better on you,” He smiles before sitting back in the booth. “What’s your plans for today?”

“Well you’ve got me hostage until the club opens so whatever you got going on,” I swallow hard hoping that he wouldn’t leave me alone or just drop me off on a corner.

“I’ve got some calls to make after here, but I was going to go down to the beach later, if you want to join,” he smiles as he drinks his lemon-less water. I nod my head as I swallow down the bite of bacon I had just taken.

“Don’t have a swimsuit on me. It’s at my apartment,” I mention, as if Niall needs the reminder again.

“Who said anything about that?” He smirks before asking for the check.

I lay in the bed, white sheets covering my body like silk, as I wait for Niall’s conference call to end. He asked me to wait after we had gotten home, only to have a quick session of this morning, but he said that he had a surprise for me. After everything he’s done for me, I couldn’t ask him for anything else.

The window looked out to a private boardwalk to the beach. The railing was rusted, but still beautiful in its own way. It was calling out to me, to touch the sand with my feet and feel the waves crash against my skin.

Niall had appeared in the bedroom with a bottle of champagne, two clear tall glasses with stems, and a red bundle in his hands. “Here,” he tossed the red bathing suit at me. “I hope I got the size wrong.”

“Why? So I can’t wear it?” I ask, cocking a brow as I begin to slip on the red nylon.

“Exactly.”

The sand was warm and grainy and everything I wanted and nothing like last night. I lay on the tye-dye towel, that’s covering a plastic lounge, that Niall gave me while sipping on the fancy champagne that Niall poured me. It was pure bliss, heaven some would call it, but I know that this has to come to an end soon- no fantasy is forever.

“I’m leaving Monday,” I say, biting the bullet. “I’m going home.”

“Well, I mean, if ya want to stay, you’re more than welcome...” Niall looks over at me above his sunglasses.

“No, I mean back to LA. I had planned on leaving already,” I say, still feeling Niall’s gaze on me.

“Oh, I thought from the sound of it that ya lived here,” he sits up as he pours more alcohol into his cup.

“It was actually a quarter life crisis. I had done school for twenty five years of my life, and I had never seen the world, and... I dunno. I picked Greece after throwing a dart at a map,” I shrug. “It’s been fun, but I have to go back and try to get my job back.”

“You quit?” Niall asks in an accusatory voice. “What did you do?”

“Communications manager.”

“Oh,” that was all Niall said as he turned his head and faced it back to the ocean. “I’m sorry if you get any slack in the papers.” He sighs heavily as he slouches down the lounge.

“I’m not,” I say, feeling the buzz of the rose gold liquid. “I had fun, I still am.”

“It would be more fun if ya were riding me,” Niall looked over at me, salt air tangled in his hair, his blue eyes shining under the rays of the sun.

“You know, I’ve never like tan lines,” I say as I pull the string holding my top. I feel myself becoming wetter by the second. My breasts fall free and I leave the nylon on my chair. I stand up, pushing my bottoms to the sand. By the few steps that I’ve taken to reach him, Niall has already scooted his suit down to his ankles as he holds his thick cock in his hands.

“I’m all yours, baby.”

I slip myself over Niall’s cock, and I hold my cradle over him for a moment to myself feel him inside me. I begin to rock my hips in a speed much like Niall did this morning, fast and assertive as I place my hands on his bare chest. I close my eyes as I feel my back arch and my ass shake against my movements

“God, fuck,” Niall whispers as he reaches up to cup my breasts, his fingers twirling my nipple around. “You want this dick.”

I did. I do. I want ride Niall until I can’t anymore. His cock hits my walls in all the right places and I feel his thumb circling my clit, I want to come all over his face. I don’t want this weekend tryst to end. Fire burns in my body as I feel myself close, and I moan out his name loudly, unafraid of anyone hearing me.

Niall holds my hips as he pounds inside of me, pushing me over. My body tenses and I want nothing more than to keep the high we’ve created. I scream out his name and then collapse on his torso, out of breath.

Niall laughs softly as he pushes my hair out of my face before wrapping his arms around me, bear hugging me to him. He kisses me on the top of my head, and I want to remember this feeling. I was happy.

“Let’s go get your bag, yeah?”

The bartender had hidden my bag in a cabinet under the bar. After I profusely apologized and her saying that it happens all the time, Niall offers me a ride to my apartment.

I look out the window of his car, not wanting to go in, not wanting to leave the bubble Niall and I created. I turn to him and smile; there aren’t words to say to thank him for everything he’s done. I give him a kiss on the cheek, his stubble scratching my swollen lips, and as I get out, I feel this sadness inside me. This will be the last time I see Niall or talk to him, and I can’t even find the words to thank him properly. There’s nothing. Thank you isn’t enough.

I grab my keys out of my bag and as I turn the lock, I hear Niall calling out to me.

“Grab some clothes and get your ass back down here!”

to be continued

####

@niallberry @halfpinthoran @thelifeofbo @slurpeehoran @mariahmulla @yourpolaroid07 @exoticniall @marymeehollywood

#niall horan #niall horan au #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan imagine #niall horan one shot #1d naill #1d ff #1dff #niall horan smut #niall smut #1dff smut

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Third Time's The Charm

Summary: Walter sweeps you off your feet with his voice, making you both give your romance a third chance.

Pairing: Walter x Reader

Warning: lots and lots of feelings

A/N: This piece includes the song "In case you didn't know by Brett Young". Can you imagine Walter singing? Ugh. Puppy. 🥺

Title: Third Time's The Charm

It was a look of utter disbelief and shock that Walter had all over his face when your friends had extended an invitation to join your group for karaoke night. A bunch of your friends from the station were going to sing the night off at a regular watering hole and they wanted the Detective to join too.

You had awkwardly stood behind the group with your hands in your pocket, unsure of what you were supposed to feel. Things had turned platonic between the two of you after a failed second date. Your sour mood after losing a lead on your case and Walter's ever present love-hate relationship with his ex-wife was a disaster waiting to happen; escalating your budding romance to a halt on that faithful date night.

But your feelings for the grumpy cop never died and your were ninety-nine percent sure he felt something for you too. Although you had never voiced your displeasure, it had hurt you immensely when Walter started dating Rachel. You hated to admit it, but when things went south for the two of them, you had been delighted with a renewed hope of reconciling things with Walter. It was a lack of courage on your part and probably Walter's sheltered persona that had you both only exchanging fleeting glances throughout your days at the station.

After getting coaxed by others to join for a fun night out, Walter had agreed, much to your silent joy. Men being men had huddled together on an adjacent table for majority of the night, leaving you glancing towards Walter more frequently than it was acceptable for friends. Your heart fluttered everytime he caught you looking, sweeping your entire body with tingling warmth. After a series of drinks and everybody getting tipsier by the minute, someone challenged Walter for a song.

"No." He had blatantly refused only for everyone to protest.

"Come on! Don't be a sour puss!" His best friend had exclaimed. You meet his gaze at the same time as he had looked at you. You could see the corner of his mouth twitching to form a smile, the tip of his nose a faint pink and his cheeks flushed from the drinks. He ran a hand through his curls with a sigh, making you wonder if they would feel as soft as they looked against your skin. You had felt a glowing heat spreading to your cheeks as soon as the thought crossed your mind.

A series of hoots and applauses resounded in the bar when he stood up. Walter pulled the lapel of his jacket close, chugging the remnants of his beer before going up to the small stage with a microphone and a computer to select the song. You had no idea if Walter could even sing. It was difficult to make the stubborn man open up; his quirks urging you to fall for him even more and explore his deep seated thoughts.

When the slow strumming of the guitar emitted through the speakers, your group fell silent. The stage was illuminated with soft blue lights above it, fixed to cast a gentle glow on anyone singing. Walter looked angelic despite being build like a strong wall.

You thought you were ready to hear Walter sing, but when his lips parted and the lyrics poured out of his mouth in a string of mellifluous words, your heart skipped a beat.

I can't count the times

I almost said what's on my mind

But I didn't

Walter wasn't looking at you, but it felt like he was speaking directly to you. You felt your heart thump as he continued singing. The reason for him selecting a song that spoke about wanting to tell the person they love but being unable to do so, felt more like a choice than a coincidence. And the way he could sing the song without even looking at the lyrics on the screen, meant he knew this song by heart.

As the song progressed your friends who were recently married, stood up and started slow dancing to the tune. You swayed from side to side with your friend throwing her arm around your shoulder, glancing at Walter who had a rare smile on his face as he sang.

The way you look tonight

That second glass of wine

That did it

Walter looked up to peer at you, stealing your breath and piercing your soul with his glimmering blue orbs. He looked away though when a few other patrons in the bar stood up to cheer Walter on, raising his hand to wave at them. Being a place that the police department frequented, the regular customers must have recognised Walter almost immediately which explained the applause from them.

You've got all of me

I belong to you

Yeah, you're my everything

The way he could hit the notes, it was apparent that Walter could sing, or had been singing all his life. When he sang the bridge of the song, the intensity radiating off his emotions was undeniably transparent. He had one hand on the mic, the other holding the stand with his eyes closed. His foot tapped to the tempo picking up the pace, in sync with your own heart beats.

In case you didn't know

I'm crazy bout you

I would be lying if I said

That I could live this life without you

Even though I don't tell you all the time

You had my heart a long long time ago

In case you didn't know

You couldn't help but silently gasp when he opened his eyes, cerulean beauty digging into yours as he crooned the words. It didn't seem like it was possible, but you could swear that for a moment everyone and everything had just faded away. It was only Walter and you in that room, in that blissful split second, with the symphony of the song playing in the background as he declared his love to you.

The thunderous claps and the accompanying whistles pulled you back to reality as Walter strutted his way back to the tables. The guys patted his back with the ladies complimenting him while you could only smile along.

Walter and you were the last one's to leave, standing on the side of the curb as you bid your friends goodbye. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears with cold shivers running down your back with the wind and your nervousness. Taking a deep breath, you turned slightly to look at Walter who stood towering next to you.

"Hey-"

"I-"

You both spoke at the same time, chuckling awkwardly at the blunder. Walter nodded for you to speak, adjusting his beanie over his curls and pocketing his hands to shield against the wind.

"I didn't know you could sing so well." You rubbed your hands together from the cold but mostly due to the anxiousness.

"Thank you." He flashed a genuine smile before falling silent again. But his eyes bore into yours with an expectancy, finally making you muster up enough courage to speak.

"I know we ended things...in an unpleasant way. But, if you don't mind, I would like to try again." You gulped to wet your throat that had gone dry with anticipation.

Walter smiled at you, taking a step forward until he was right in front of you. Bringing his finger under your chin, he tilted your face up and bent down to capture your lips for a kiss. Your eyes widened at the unexpected, but welcomed, contact. Melting at the fervid passion of his kiss, you moulded against his body and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Walter rested his forehead against yours when your lips parted. His gloved hand felt hot against your cheek with his thumb caressing your skin as he caught his breath. You didn't want to let go for it felt like the thirst for Walter's affection had only grown by ten folds after that kiss.

"Walter," You whispered, resting your head against his chest as he stood up straight, "I take that as a yes. Third time's the charm, right?"

Walter chuckled, the deep rumble in his chest echoing through to your ears. He engulfed you tighter in his arms, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head as the wind howled.

"So I've heard." He said before kissing your forehead and raising his hand to hail a cab.

#walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x you #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fluff #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall #walter marshall nomis #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Hot Chocolate Kisses

A/N: It’s nothing much, but it is something so tender and soft. I love Frankie and fluff! Why not have both? Tis a little thank/happy holiday gift from me to you. Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pregnant reader, references to sex, sweet sweet fluff!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Good morning," the sound of his soft voice accompanied by the feel of his arms around your midsection was enough to make your heart flutter. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his head there and humming in content, "how are you, honey bee?"

"Good morning, mi amor," you replied softly, taking one of his hands that had been resting on the gentle swell of your belly and bringing to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "I'm perfect. What about you, Frankie? Did you rest well?"

"Like a dream," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly letting go and moving towards the coffee pot. Once he poured a cup and made it to his liking, he came over, and followed your line of sight out into the yard.

There was nothing but mountains of glittering snow coating the entire neighborhood as far as the eye could see. Small children were already playing outside, all bundled up in thick snow jackets and woolen hats, while dogs ran around their yards barking and biting at soft, fat flakes that were gently drifting down from the heavens.

"Record snowfalls," you looked at him with excited eyes, "which means we are snowed in and work is canceled. Do I even try to pretend to be upset?"

"Hell no," his smile was infectious as his singular dimple appeared and his soft eyes crinkled in the corners the way you adored, "I get to spend the say being lazy at home with my girl? I'm not going to argue with that."

"You know what today calls for," your eyes were wide and bright as the two of you knew exactly what a snow day meant. You'd come up with your own little traditions a long time ago and always pulled them out on days like this.

"You just want an excuse for hot chocolate!" Frankie's tone was lovingly accusing as he crossed his arms over his chest as he took a sip from his mug.

"No!" you insisted firmly, offering him a small little pout, "your daughter is craving some. Ever since you knocked me up that's all I've been wanting! And I don't need any excuse for hot chocolate. Hot chocolate isn't a crime!"

"First of all, this -" he pointed tenderly to the small bump just visible under your sweater, "was a team effort. Secondly, you've always loved my hot chocolate, long before any of this. She had nothing to do with this!”

"Obviously," you stuck your tongue out at him, "but you make it all fancy and gourmet. How can I say no? She's not helping though! I swear it's a craving."

“Your mamá is already using you as an excuse,” he laughed as he rested his hand on your belly. You instantly felt her move and flutter under his touch; she always seemed to be more active when he was around. Even though you were trying to have a seriously teasing conversation, the moment was enough to make your heart melt, “can you believe it, mija? She just doesn’t want to admit she’s addicted to the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I can quit it any time I want,” you snorted with laughter at his silly antics, “I just choose not to. Now, don’t deny your pregnant wife what she wants!”

“What does she want?” there was a wicked little glint in his eye as you raised a brow at him.

“Well for starters,” you pointed at the cabinet, “some hot chocolate later. But how about breakfast for now? And a warm bath after that? I swear I’m getting as bad as you old man, my back is killing me.”

“Hey now,” he warned with a small boop to your nose, “you’re getting awfully cheeky for someone who wants my hot chocolate. You’re on very thin ice, honey bee.”

“You know I’m only kidding, Francisco,” you gave him a quick kiss as you went to the refrigerator to start gathering ingredients for breakfast, “besides, you’re my favorite DILF.”

“Oh no,” his laughter was a loud, beautiful thing as it sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned to him and shot him a cheeky little wink, “not you too! Everyone’s calling me that lately, I swear.”

“They can look but they can’t touch. I mean, have you seen yourself Frankie? You’re handsome as hell, you’re amazing, wonderful, kind. Everything,” you insisted as you rejoined his side, You could already see the light flush of color in his cheeks as he relished your words, “and you’re all mine. Besides, I’m half the reason you’re a DILF. Where is my recognition in all of this?”

“I love you, honey bee,” he stared at you in awe for a moment before turning so he could kiss you properly. It took you by surprise but it took even less to respond back; kissing him was such saccharine bliss, “you are everything to me.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “now let’s get this ultimate lazy day started!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Those might have been our best pancakes ever,” you wolfed down the last syrupy bite before pushing away your empty plate, “I feel as stuffed as a damn turkey.”

“You’re the most beautiful and radiant turkey I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked as you lovingly groaned at his silly words, “I’ll clean up and you can start the bath. Plan?”

“Plan,” you agreed as you slid off the bar stool and started padding towards the kitchen. As Frankie busied himself with gathering up the empty dishes, you turned around and watched him for a moment, nothing but a gentle warmth radiating throughout your body, “Frankie? You’re going to join me, right?”

He turned to you and offered you his megawatt smile as he slowly nodded, a rogue curl bouncing around and falling onto his forehead. Gods, he was so effortlessly handsome and sweet. You couldn’t stop yourself from rushing over to him, delicately grabbing his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the faint sweetness of the syrup, “what was that for?”

“Nothing,” you grinned breathlessly, “I just love you is all.”

“Oh,” a flush of pink tinged his cheeks as he brought his hands to your face, delicately tracing over your features before pressing the softest kiss to your lips, “I love you too.”

“I know,” you beamed, “now hurry up so we can take a bath!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming under your breath, sitting at the edge of the large tub as you watched it fill up with warm water. There weren’t very many requirements you had when the two of you had been house hunting before deciding to expand your family - but a large bathtub was one of them. Moments like this made you glad for it; you loved being able to slip into the tub, often dragging along Frankie with you, not that he had any complaints of course. It was perfect for the two of you, and now that you seemed to be growing by the day, it was even better.

Pulling your favorite bottle of bubble bath off the shelf, you poured some in, inhaling deeply at the relaxing scent. All the stress and worries you had were already dissolving away with each passing second. Once you were satisfied with the copious amounts of soft bubbles, you threw in some Epsom salt for good measure, hoping it would help your aching body. Deciding to make it even more festive, you grabbed the speaker from your bedroom, and turned it on, opting to play some soft Christmas music in the background. It wasn’t like you were going to be paying much attention to it anyway; your conversations with Frankie always seemed endless, no matter how long the two of you had been together.

“Close your eyes,” Frankie came into the bathroom just as you were finishing getting everything ready. You closed your eyes, making a show of putting your hands over your eyes as you heard him shuffling in, “okay, pick a hand - left or right.”

“Hmmm…” you mused for a moment, “how about left?”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckled as he pulled your hands from your eyes. A little grin spread across your features when you saw what he was holding in his hands, “surprise!”

“Frankie,” his name was but a mere soft sigh as you reached for the soft, cozy pajamas he was holding out to you. You could spy a matching pair for him on the counter, your heart fluttering in delight. It had become a sort of little tradition for the two of you to get new matching holiday pajamas every year. It was just some silly thing, but it still meant the world to you, “I love them. Thank you so much - you remembered.”

“Of course,” he held out his hands to you, slowly hoisting you to your feet, “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He slowly reached for the hem of your sweater, gently pulling up and over your head and outstretched arms before tossing it on the floor. He followed suit with your bra, unclasping it before letting it join your sweater and doing the same to your leggings and underwear. It was such a small intimate thing, the way his eyes looked over you was nothing short of adoration and reverence.

��Your turn,” you whispered before starting to unbutton his flannel, taking your time to undo it one by one. Shrugging it off his shoulders, you pressed a few kisses to the soft, golden skin of his shoulder before moving onto his jeans, wicking them down his legs along with his boxers. He made a small sound in his throat before stepping out of his jeans and pulling you into his arms. The gentle coolness of his wedding band on your back was wonderful; a delicate reminder of just how much he loved you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a hand running down your side as he rested it on your waist, taking solace in the gentle swell of your belly. He still couldn’t believe your daughter - his daughter, one that came as a small surprise and blessing was in there. One he had never known he wanted so much until you told him you were pregnant and he broke down crying, as emotional as you were. You, the two of you, were everything for him.

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re not so bad yourself. I guess we both got pretty lucky, huh? I love you so much, Francisco. More than you will ever know.”

He looked back at you with those brown eyes you adored so much, and you could see that they were glossy, close to spilling over with tears. You reached up and touched his cheek before brushing away a stray curl.

“Come on,” he held your hand as you motioned towards the tub. He got in first, settling down before holding his arms out to you. Carefully, you settled in next to him surprising him for a moment as you occupied the other side. Before he could say anything, you gathered up a handful of bubbles, and blew them at him, watching as they stuck in his dark mop of hair, “playing dirty are we?”

“Maybe,” you splashed him with the warm water, “you have to play nice, I’m pregnant!”

“You started it!” he splashed you back as you squealed in delight, “don’t start what you can’t finish!”

“Oh, it’s on! It’s so on,” you laughed as you tried to move the bubbles closer to your half of the tub, “you’re going down!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Do you have enough blankets, honey?” Frankie walked back into the living room, arms filled with a few more big, fuzzy blankets. You looked up from the comfy couch, during the numerous blankets you’d already secured and gave him a big grin. You were already feeling so toasty and warm in your new pajamas after your bath, and this just made it so much better. He snorted with laughter at the sight of only your head poking out, “oh.”

“It’s freezing!” you insisted, digging your arm out and pointing at your feet, “pile them on! The only thing I’m missing is your body.”

“I have a few more things to do first,” he put the blankets down and wrapped them around your feet, “gonna start a fire and then go and make the hot chocolate. You, my little bee, are in charge of finding our first movie. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“As if that’s a question,” you joked as you reached for the remote, as he went over to the fireplace, “you just need to hurry up!”

"You are getting so demanding," he laughed as he kneeled next to the fireplace and started to pile some of the logs in. He started to hum softly under his breath as you watched him, absolutely in awe of the man you were able to call your husband. The sight of him in the same pajamas as you was endearing and caused you a moment of pause as you pictured doing this next year with him and your daughter.

You often wondered what she would like, although you both knew that the only thing that mattered was that she was healthy and sound. But a small part of you hoped she'd take after Frankie, to have those gentle chocolate eyes and dark curls. Maybe she'd take after you, or maybe -

"Everything alright?" Frankie turned and caught your distant gaze on him as she started to light the fire. You hadn't realized you'd gotten so lost in your little daydream.

"Yes," you smiled at him, "just thinking..."

"Thinking about...."

"Its silly..."

"If it matters to you then it's not silly," he insisted, making a small sound of satisfaction when the fire started to crackle away merrily.

"I was just thinking about next year," you admitted shyly, "you know how we do the matching pjs every year? I think it would be fun to do that with the bean next year."

"I love the sound of that," he agreed, "that'll make a great Christmas card!"

"Yeah," you agreed as he brought you a pillow to rest your head on, "you really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Only for my bee," he promised with a wink and a kiss, "I'll go and make the hot chocolate. Classic for you today?"

"Surprise me!"

"Be back," he promised as pointed at the television, "now pick something good out!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

It seemed like it had been a small eternity since Frankie had left to go on his little adventure of hot chocolate making, and you'd long since found a suitable movie. You started it but kept it paused as you waited. But soon you felt a flutter in your belly. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you put your hand on your tummy where you felt her moving around.

"I know baby bean," you told her gently, "I miss him too. Even when he's gone only for a few minutes. You're gonna love him so much, just like me. He's going to be the best papá. We already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you."

"Talking to yourself?" just in time your knight in cozy pajamas came striding back in with two delicious steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"I am never alone anymore," you reminded him as he came and cozied up next to you, "I've always got the bean. And we were having a private conversation, thank you very much."

"Please don't let me interrupt," he passed your mug over before pulling blankets over his form and you curled up in his side. You grinned at the full mug, admiring how perfectly he had made it. It was a classic, a layer of mini marshmallows followed by a layer of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.

"Thank you, Frankie," you beamed as you took a long sip, savoring the creamy sweetness on your tongue. You heard a soft chuckle before Frankie reached over and wiped off the whipped cream from your nose, "oops!"

"Good?" he asked as you nodded eagerly. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and gave you a soft, saccharine little kiss. He lingered against your lips and you could taste the sweetness of the hot chocolate that was clinging onto him. He grinned before giving you a few more pecks, each sweeter than the last, "even better. Now, start this movie and let's get this marathon on the road!"

You clutched your mug to your chest as Frankie brought an arm over your shoulders and you pressed play on your first cheesy holiday movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn't long before you felt your eyes start to get heavy as you finished your mug of hot chocolate. You were about to move it to the coffee table, but Frankie beat you to the punch, grabbing it from your hands and setting down before pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you as you laid against his chest and let the soft rise and fall of his chest relax and lull you.

Soon enough your eyes closed and everything seemed distant. You didn't even try to fight it as Frankie pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand was holding yours, your fingers laced together and the other was resting on your belly. It wasn't long before you were completely under the siren spell of sleep and snoring quietly in his arms.

"I love you, honey bee," he whispered ever so gently as he relaxed too, growing more tired by the second, "and you too, baby bee. You two are everything."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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