#But fucking god they turn into the worst passengers ever when i drive

[zarafey]

I am this fkn close to banning my mom and stepdad to the backseat of the car and having my sister in shotgun istg

[sparklyskies0]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

‘No, I wanna see you undress now

I wanna hear you confess now, ’

( 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 ) y/n and chris have hated each other for as long as they can remember. Never minding the lingering tension that fills up the room whenever they’re together. When chris and y/n get into a heated argument about her new boyfriend that he quite obviously doesn’t seem to approve of, there’s nothing more left to say and everything becomes a blur.

warnings : poc!reader, angry drunk unprotected sex, fem receiving(oral sex!), dom!chris, glass breaking, scratching/blood, cursing, etc..

It was friday night, rainy and humid. Nothing but wet trees and fog filled the hot air. Y/n spent the night sneaking into clubs with her friends and drinking. Not all her friends, if you include chris sturniolo. Her worst enemy. For as long as she can remember, she’s always hated him, she doesn’t quite remember why or when it started. Possibly sometime during high school, she just recalls chris hating her so it’s only fair to hate him back, right?. Point is─ if it weren’t for them sharing the same friend group y/n would never be seen in the same room as chris sturniolo.

Y/n was drunk out of her mind, Every step she took almost resulted in her face first on the wet concrete floor. She can usually handle her liquor, but tonight was a complete different story. As fun as a night out with friends was for y/n, things got cut short when her new boyfriend troy decided to pick a fight. Causing a mild scene at the club getting her and all that came with, kicked out. In her defense, it was her first night out with him. Their relationship is fresh and the getting-to-know stage is still in effect, she had no idea he was a reckless drunk that hates when his partner is enjoying herself. And just as if her night couldn’t get any worse, her friends all piled up in two cars leaving y/n, alone with hers. Considering she was under the influence her friends leave her favorite person in the whole world to drive her home, chris.

The car ride was silent, the sound of the car air conditioner, filling it. Y/n sighed as she sat in the passenger seat of her own car , looking out of the window. The view was blurry as drops of rain and steam covered the glass. y/n glanced at the boy to her left, his one hand on the steering wheel while the other is rested beside him. Chris feels her eyes on him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He comes to a stop at a red light, still feeling the girls eyes pierce into him. He double takes, “what?” his voice toned with clear annoyance. y/n shook her head, shrugging off her thoughts. “just can’t believe you’re driving my car.” the girl spoke with a sigh.

“yea, well you’re too wasted to drive”

“you’re boyfriend could’ve drove you if he wasn’t such a bitch and left”

y/n groans, here he goes

she rested her head on her hands, leaning closer to the window. she rolled her eyes in annoyance at the boy in the drivers seat.

“fuck off, we got kicked out” she defended

“because of him.” he protested. The light turned green, he glanced at the girl, the most irritated expression ever on his face and he resumed driving.

“all im saying is, you’re dating a piece of shit” he adds. This, is when y/n began to take offense.

“chris you don’t even know him.” she sits up

“neither do you!” chris announced

“isn’t this like you’re—what, second date?!”

y/n grew irritated, tired of the boy trying to tell her who she does and doesn’t know, no matter if he’s right.

“ he has to be the biggest asshole I have ever seen” he provokes. “clearly you haven’t seen yourself” y/n speaks, frustration in her voice

chris’s rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to her for a split second. “oh really?” he scoffs “god, you’re the worst asshole on the planet, chris!” y/n says, now enraged

“oh fuck you” chris curses

“no, chris—fuck you”

After those last words, nothing else was said. Y/n quietly took pride in having the last word, which she usually does. chris approaches her driveway and stops. y/n opens her car door immediately getting out. sighing of instant relief of being released from the tight space that she shared with chris sturniolo. the drive couldn’t have been longer.

due to lack of standing on her feet, y/n almost feels herself fall. stumbling but catching herself, she cursed. chris, exited the car shortly after. closing the door, he glanced up sighing to himself at the girl carefully walking to her front door.

he caught up to her, stepping to the side as she takes out her keys from her clutch, opening her door. Walking in she lets out a small sigh. Switching the light on revealing her living room. Chris closed the door behind him. “you didn’t have to walk me inside” y/n turned around, almost forgetting the boy was with her.

“do you not see yourself? you can barely walk” chris says smartly “god can you not be an asshole for one second” y/n spats

“i’m not a fucking kid, you don’t need to watch me or follow me around”

chris lets out a scoff, “no, but you’re someone who makes stupid fucking decisions like a kid” he responds “exhibit A” he points to the nightstand in her living room , a framed picture of y/n and troy on their first date, a gift he gave her.

“oh my fucking god chris! what is your problem” y/n exclaimed, “ever since i started seeing him you’ve been even more of a dick than you usually are and i’ve been trying to go with it but it’s just annoying now!”

“I just thought you were smarter, you know”

“if there was anyone I expected you to be with it would not be someone like him” he exclaimed back

“why the fuck do you care? why is that any of your business?!” she shouted out. The living room filled with silence . “who i date is absolutely none of your concern. so you can take your fuck ass opinion and shove it up you─” her words were cut off by chris slamming his lips into hers .

it happened too fast for her to process it. Chris pulled away, his face hot and almost, greedy. y/n looked into his eyes. She didn’t know what was happening, or why he just did that. She doesn’t know why she wants more. Grabbing the back of his head she pulls him back in. The kiss was hot, their mouths moving along each other, chris’s tongue demanding entry against her lips. y/n opened, letting him in. Muffled moans filled the room. Their tongues fighting for dominance.

chris removed his lips from hers allowing them both to catch a breath. He traced kisses along her jaw. They unknowingly ended up backed up against the wall in her living room, by her front door. Y/n lifted her head up, giving him full access to her neck. her eyes closed shut, biting her lip. she grabbed the sides of his face guiding him back up to her face, wanting more of his lips on hers. Chris bit her lip, his right arm stretched over her head, keeping himself supported as her back placed against the cold wall.

he pulled her leather jacket off throwing it to the ground, revealing her red lace top. His hands snaked down to her ass hoisting her up and on the nightstand beside them. After setting her down, his free hand grabbed something pushing it off leaving more room on the stand. As the object hit the ground, glass shattered. The two broke the kiss at the sound, looking down. “chris…” y/n says looking down at the picture frame with the glass the protected it, shattered. Chris looked back up, making eye contact with the girl. He shrugged and pressed his lips back on hers.

As he trailed kisses along her lips and neck. he grabbed the straps of her red top pulling them down slowly. From y/n’s pov, he looked majestic. As he stood in between her legs , lips between his teeth sexily undressing her upper half. Her breast were set free. The cool light in the room reflected beautifully on her now bare, caramel skin.

“fuck” he breathed, his face low

he did not hesitate to take all of her left boob in his mouth, his tounge swirled around her now hard nipples. The right not being left out for too long, and he sucked it hungrily, gripping the other.

y/n moaned out, the vibrations and pleasure as he stimulates her breasts with his mouth and hands taking over. she could cum just like this if he keeps it up.

“fuck, chris”

chris then trailed kisses all over her body. when he made his way down her stomach, her back arched.

chris stopped at the hem of her skirt. Who knew wearing a skirt despite the horrible weather will come in handy for y/n?

he looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. y/n looked down at him. moaning at the sight.

his eyes are so pretty and blue, why hasn’t she noticed this before?

not letting another second pass, chris slipped her skirt off throwing it down. Her black lace underwear now in clear view. Y/n’s breath hitched. Feeling her juices soak the fabric guarding what chris wanted most. she wonders if he can tell how wet she is.

chris grazed his fingers along her wet pussy. her underwear practically drenched. “look how wet you are for me” he speaks, kind of like a whisper

he traces his fingers along her folds threw her panties. her eyes fighting roll to the back of her head at the sensation.

it was as if something took ahold of chris, because his once slow and sensual acts became merely greedy and harsh. He ripped the fabric off and dove his face into her cunt.

this took y/n by surprise as she shoots up and gasps. the feeling of his tongue on her pussy sending vibrations and shivers down her spine. her now rosy cheeks, flushed.

his hands grabbed the sides of her waist. The girl a moaning mess in front of him. “shit, chris—fuck” she moaned, her fingers ran throw his brunette silky hair

Chris flickered his tounge up and down her pussy, moaning against it. The girls moans got louder. He sucked and circled around her sensitive clit.

“fuck, you taste so good” he came up for air. the girl practically whimpered. how the fuck did she get here? home late on a friday night drunk as chris sturniolo eats her out..

Chris worked his tongue some more as y/n got closer and closer “chris im gonna—” the girl moaned out, her breathing got heavy as she felt the tight pit in her stomach grow. Those words were affirmations of encouragement for chris, making him go faster. The girls moaning stopped for a split second, her mouth gaping open into an ‘0’ shape as her climax took over

she groaned biting her lip, chris stood down there assisting her through her high. she pants massaging the top of his head as that’s all that she can see of him right now. he lifts his head up, feeling accomplished. his mouth area glossy with her juices. He stands up slamming his lips into hers. she tastes herself on his lips moaning into the kiss. chris hands placed on both sides of her face. as the kiss grew more, he hand made its way to the back of her head, running his hands through her curly black hair.

y/n looked at him. her doe eyes, needing him. her hands trailed his body. she reached the bottom of his t-shirt lifting it over him. she kissed his collar bones and neck. her free hands snaking into his pants, grabbing ahold of his bulge in his boxers. he winces and moans. “fuck me..” she whispers looking him in the eye. chris, tempted but shook his head “you’re drunk” he states.

“that didn’t stop you before” she moaned to him. their faces inches apart, every time they speak, their mouths brush one another. chris looked down at her lips. biting his “what?.. you scared?” she taunts , a hum leaving her lips as she bit them

chris took that as a challenge. even when intimate they can’t seem to not tease each other.

chris immediately unbuckled his belt bringing down his pants, leaving his underwear, y/n grabbed a handful of his cock once again stroking it through his underwear. Chris moaned, burying his head down into her neck, his warm breath on her shoulders. he placed light bites along them. y/n slipped off his boxers as his cock sprung out. She moaned at the sight, he’s bigger than she imagined─hold up . she imagined the size of chris sturniolo’s cock?

she continued to stroke his dick, using his precum and some spit as lube.

she bit her lip harshly as she aligned him up with her entrance. he slid into her, slowly at first, then he slid back out. And slammed back in.

He thrusted in and out of her roughly. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck for support. Sounds of skin clapping together and moans filled the home. Chris growled, removing her hands from around him pinning them above her head. the look on his face seeming familiar. like hate

this man was hate fucking her. and she loved every minute of it

chris let go of one of her hands as he wraps his tightly around her neck. he pulls her closer to him, chests pressed against each other. His left arm still pinning her right arm over her, while his right hand grips her neck. she threw her right leg over his shoulder as her left remained wrapped around him, her left remaining arm keeping her supported. she moaned loudly “holy shit chris fuck fuck fuck!”

her eyes rolled back. chris never shifted his gaze even a little bit, taking in every facial expression she makes. not wanting to miss the proof of how he’s making her feel.

“you like that, huh?” chris moans out

“like when im fucking you”

they held eye contact the whole time, y/n practically feeling her climax approaching just by his words.

chris let’s go of her neck , grabbing her legs returning them back around his waist. Y/n’s arms reached for his back. pulling him closer. Chris moaned into her ear “fuck, you feel so good. so.fucking.tight” he groans. He doesn’t know if he can hold on any longer. He speeds up, the clapping sounds intensify.

drowning in pleasure, y/n digs her nails into chris’s back. Chris winces, but found pleasure in the pain. biting his lip. “fuck, chris! just like that don’t stop”

“don’t stop” she repeats. digging her nails deeper. covering his back with scratches

chris goes faster, he can feel her juices building up.

y/n can feel chris’s cock twitching inside of her signaling how close he is.

“look at me, look at me while you cum on my cock baby” chris presses his forehead against hers. his hair dripping with sweat. Y/n obeys, staring deep into his eyes. she no longer sees the guy that she hates, she sees someone who is making her feel like she’s never felt before.

the room got quiet, nothing but the sound of chris’s thrusts getting sloppier.

chris gasps , groaning loudly as his cock twitches. releasing his warm load inside of her. While at the same time, y/n’s eyebrows raised as her mouth gaped open, an inaudible moan leaving her mouth. her eyes rolled back. she gained her voice back in pants. “oh my god” she breaths out. out of breath. her legs tremble in sensitivity as chris thrusts slowly through her high. Chris brought his face to hers attaching their lips. This kiss was sloppy, tired and full of hatred?.

Y/n moaned into it. Chris pulled away, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of her, his cum dripping down her thigh. They both look down, watching it.

Both a sweaty, sticky , hot mess.

They don’t know where they’ll go from this, they don’t even know if y/n will remember this the next day. But what is known, is that chris sturniolo is the last person on earth that she hates right now.

ᥫ᭡ Authors Note

I can’t tell if i like this or not lmfao

anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this as my first official post/imagine.

sorry if the arguing was bad, I just wanted to get to the damn smut already

be sure to request anything ! i love you💟

xoxo paris

[cuttleimagines]

𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚞𝚛'𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚝𝚎 3 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚐𝚎

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜?

Also yay! First post! <3

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘𝚘

Contains: Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach, Halsin, Minsc, Jahiera, and Minthara

BEST:

Minsc:

Minsc has literally no room for road rage and he knows it. He is by far the worst driver out of all the companions.

Not ONLY that, but he literally has a hamster therapist to bond with about the drivers around him

He’d see someone literally fucking street racing and have the most content face on

“Ah, Boo, he must be late for his appointment. I would’ve done the same in his shoes.🤷‍♂️”

Minsc is going below the speed limit all the time because honestly he’s just happy to be there.

If he ever gets hit he’ll settle for a quick conversation about trading insurances but will probably just get it fixed later and forget about it

People get mad at him but he’s so unbothered lmao

We love Minsc in this household he has the best non existent road rage.

Wyll:

Is strangely always calm at the wheel, a very courteous driver like Minsc but more softcore

waves at people to go even when he has the right of way so he gets pushed around a lot on the road lmao

The only way I can see him getting fed up is if it happens back to back and someone almost fucking kills him 😭 which is honestly the bottom of the fucking barrel

Honestly he just questions whether or not people actually USE their fucking mirrors to LOOK and SEE if anyone's there BEFORE they merge

Purposefully REFUSES to tailgate even a little bit because he can't be asked to rear end somebody because they brake-checked him.

It's very rare he ever reacts negatively at all, just kinda goes "Okay, people aren't always going to be the smartest, perhaps they're still learning."

Wyll, baby, they're driving a dingy pickup truck with a customized muffler 💀

Honestly if you ever ride passenger with this guy, you're probably gonna be getting mad FOR him because he just doesn't react to people genuinely being stupid on the road.

Overall, just a "get through it and move on" type of driver

Halsin:

If anyone's ever sitting passenger with him you're lucky because you get to fucking pass out on long car trips and not worry about whether or not mans is gonna fall asleep at the wheel or crash.

VERY good driver, probably the best out of all of the other companions

Type of person to flash at someone or wave at them if their gas door is open or something's falling off their car

Like Wyll, a pretty courteous driver, but gets a little annoyed if people don't give him the right of way when it's his turn

Does a little eyebrow quirk whenever someone cuts him off but ends up turning into an "I pity the new drivers of this generation" speech

If people are being dumb back to back he probably needs to pull over and just take a hot minute before getting back on the road

Overall, though, he tries to be civil and not let his anger get the better of him

Gale:

Is probably the funniest when it comes to the mild version of road rage

"I didn't realize turn signals were growing out of style, considering nobody seems to use them."

"Wow! Look how much progress you made!" He says to the car that sped past him only to get one car ahead in the busy lane

"The light is green, sir! You accelerate when the light turns green! A common mistake, I know!"

"Do you think this poor lad knows you yield to turn right on a red and don't wait for the light to turn green? The education system has most definitely gone downhill nowadays, let me tell you."

Talks a lot of shit and laughs while doing it, mainly just out of disbelief that, yes, people are genuinely this stupid.

If he genuinely gets upset, he's honestly more disappointed than anything else

God, he's such a fucking DAD

Pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance when someone tries to merge in his lane when he's in their blind spot

Overall, likes to bond with his passenger over how dumb other people are but won't usually go past that point.

Isn't really bothered by other people not knowing how to drive.

Karlach:

Okay bear with me I'm aware it's strange to see the literal barbarian of the party over here but hear me out

Karlach really only rages when people are dicks to innocents and to the people who tormented her. I can't see her getting mad unless she's in the passenger seat. Then it's going down.

She's the one getting mad for Wyll whenever he's driving.

Says "yikes" before she almost gets in a collision but is one of those women who are just quiet while desperately trying not to hit the other car

A PERFECT maneuverer, gets in that motherfucking parking spot no questions asked

She's kind of an "Anyway!" type of driver whenever people are stupid on the road. She can smell bad drivers and just speeds past them.

"Nope, not dealing with your shit today. Bye!"

The only reason she's lower than Gale is because she's got some hardcore road rage but only when she's not the one driving.

Because how in the hell are you gonna make my friend's driving experience bad?? I'll kill you??

Lae'zel:

Thinks everybody sucks at driving except her

And genuinely?? She is a very good driver, knows all the rules and is very aware of her surroundings

The reason why I don’t put Lae’zel in the worst category is because normally with her road rage, she’s typically the type to deal with it and move on.

I do also think that when it comes a time that people are idiots and she needs to try and get out of it alive, she’s much like Karlach and are radio silent during near-death situations.

Please, please keep in mind that that silence is temporary, though. If anyone DARES hit her car that she paid for on the road, they’re pulling over and having a nice little chat.

Nice as in getting their dick ripped off, sure.

“Now, you’re going to tell me exactly why you thought it would be a smart idea to blind me with your headlights and expect to not get collided.”

She’s verbally tearing them limb from limb, criticizing the driving school they went to, demanding the address of the DMV that gave them their damned license.

“Whoever gave you a passing grade must have a brain hemorrhage, truly. I cannot fathom the idiocy it takes to put someone like you anywhere near a vehicle.”

WORST:

Shadowheart:

Okay, yeah, she talks shit. She'll say it to their faces, and behind their backs.

Very chill driver otherwise and is just trying to get where she's trying to go

Like Halsin, she's also fairly safe, braking in advance if she sees shit and looking at both sides of a crosswalk to make sure some fuckwad isn't gonna sprint to the other side before she drives over it.

You don't usually see her road rage due to how accommodating she is in case of dumbasses but when she does she roasts the shit out of them

Racist when it comes to car makes and their drivers lmao

"Dodge Ram drivers are all the same, I swear." She'll grumble, flashing her lights at people who don't turn off their brights at night.

Total tailgater but only when she's alone.

"It wouldn't kill you to go the damned speed limit every once and a while, you know."

Definitely thinks she's the best driver out of all the companions

Whenever she has to pull to the side of the road after someone hit her they're shitting their pants

"I'm sorry I didn't see you--" "Oh, you didn't see me? Didn't see the bright-colored car directly beside you before you merged over? Are you sure your eyes are okay to drive with?"

Jahiera:

Literally will not shut the fuck up over how terrible this new generation is at driving

Any time she gets on the freeway it looks like she's looking in 15 directions at once every three seconds

Also a very good driver but definitely not accommodative for idiots on the road.

You WILL let her merge. Definitely a horn-honker.

It's so embarrassing because she'll honk her horn at fucking everything.

Someone goes first at a stop sign when it was her turn? Honk.

Someone turns left at an unprotected light when they're supposed to wait for her? Honk.

Someone misses their exit and goes off the road even though they weren't even in front of her? HONK.

She treats it like a damn wrong button.

If a car speeds past her only to end up one car in front of her, she'll physically put her hands up in confusion and go "WHAT WAS THE POINT???"

"All these young people with so many places to go. You'd think it would kill them to stop and smell the flowers every once and a while."

Minthara:

Lord help the fucking soul that pisses off Minthara on the road.

I theorize that Minthara is a very, very aggressive driver. She is the first one to speed off when the light turns green.

She’s the motherfucker behind you on the freeway with headlights full blast because you DARED to go the speed limit for 2 seconds.

Flashes her brights quick enough to kill someone with epilepsy at the wheel whenever they accidentally leave their brights on

I feel like it’s obvious at this point but Minthara isn’t vocal in her road rage. Her actions speak enough for her.

She’ll mutter shit under her breath but honestly it just sounds like she’s putting a damn hex on them.

Likes to drive with no music like the fucking sociopath she is

If someone hits her, she’ll brake check and give them a worse-looking car. She needs to have the last say.

Which, yes, she’s just like that one guy in the tiktok who speeds after a car that hit and ran him, screaming on the mic “HE HIT ME AND TRYNA LEAVE!!! HE HIT ME AND TRYNA LEAVEEEE!”

That is Minthara.

You WILL regret driving anywhere in her vicinity.

Astarion:

Such a motherfucking chaotic driver. His road rage isn't bad in the sense of yelling behind the wheel. The lengths he goes to prove a point are what put him down here.

For example, if someone's tailgating him, he'll stop. Not a mere brake check. A stop. And he'll get rear-ended, just to get that fucking insurance money.

He prefers an untouched car, don't get me wrong, but he welcomes people to be idiots on the road.

He's also the type to drive motorcyclists off the road.

"Oh, you like to go fast? I can go fast too. Here, let me demonstrate."

Type of person to write notes on people's parked cars about how much they suck at parking

Once he wrote a fake ticket for someone who parked in his favorite spot at a particular joint he frequents.

His insurance hates him 😭

Is so petty with his road rage

If you're on his ass when he's already going 10 over, guess what? We're going 10 under now. The whole time.

Flips people off if they're lucky

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: ~1.7k Pairing: gn!reader x John Constantine

Includes: NSFW, Top reader, handjobs, masturbation, car sex (sorta…ig…car handjobs?). 18+ per usual.

A/N: I HAVEN’T WRITTEN IN FOREVER. I’ll spare everyone the details, but this was quite possibly the worst period in my life to start a Tumblr blog. Shits been crazy. I’ll try and get more stuff out soon, apologies!!

Your boyfriend’s travels never failed to enthrall you. Without a doubt, they always came with surprises, ill-timed quips, and incredulous feats of the supernatural. You took a liking to being his ‘getaway driver’, or, essentially, just the person who brought the battered, bruised, and exhausted man home back in one piece. Especially considering he never ended up getting his driver’s license. It allowed ample time for John to splay out his daily adventures to you from his indefinitely-claimed shotgun seat.

“-I made it so complicated, forchristsake, in the end it was just about giving the soul back up to him. Easy.” John complained, bringing a lit, half-smoked cigarette back up to his lips as a sort of punctuation.

“Odd,” you smirked, “you have a sort of instinct to give it up easily,”

Your hands were on the wheel, eyes on the road, but you didn’t need to have any resounding focus on John to know he was giving you a stare from hell and back. You were thoroughly amused, and paid no effort in hiding a smile.

“You think you’re funny, dontcha?” He replied breathily, as if he had been punched in the gut by your words.

“Mm, in fact, I think I’m hilarious,”

Defeated, John turned his head back to greet the cigarette he held in his hand, eyes once again taking in the road before you both.

It was late, empty, and one-laned, lined by bowing trees, limbs extended as if praising the sky above. It was quiet.

John’s passenger side window was cracked just enough to create an escape route for the smoke to retreat. You could hear the background chirp of crickets and low tones of faraway owls in the thick summer air of the backroads. The atmosphere was pressingly calm.

John never was too big of a fan of calm.

He reached over to fiddle with the car radio with his free hand, still taking draws from his cigarette with the other.

“I’m not sure we’re going to get many inner-city stations out here, Johnny. I’ve got CDs in-“

“There we go.” John interrupted, settling on a strong connection he found. The music was a soft lilt amongst the rest of the night, a soothing and permeable volume. “Wanna know a secret?” John asked rhetorically, retracting his hand from the radio to rest on his inner thigh.

“I don’t really have an option, do I?”

“When I was younger, Blur was one of my guilty pleasure bands.”

So that’s which band was playing. The melodic undercurrent of your drive.

“John, a boy band fan. I can’t believe it.” You teased, tilting the corner of your mouth up. “And to think you were in the punk scene all whilst getting a rise outta probably some tories kids. What a poser.”

John winced playfully. “I had a crush on…fuck, uh…Damon, right. I had a crush on him throughout my teenage years.”

“I’m exceptionally jealous.” You remarked with sarcasm dwelling beneath your words.

“Mmm, well, I don’t recall him ever giving me a blowjob that resulted in what felt like two orgasms at once…so…I think you’ve no competition.” He grinned with heavy-lidded eyes, likely referencing the last time you two had fucked.

“Thank god. You may be a slut, John, but you’re mine, right?” You concluded, sparing a glance to meet his pretty eyes. His darted away from yours the second you made to latch onto them.

You feigned a pouting expression. “That’s no answer, Johnny.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m a slut, just for you.” He sighed, but not without the hint of humorous understanding.

“Atta boy.”

John made a barely audible strangled sound. So small picking up on it would be more difficult than a city station in the furrows of a forest. But still possible.

“Can you repeat that for me?” You encouraged, suddenly vying to hear his filthy back thoughts.

“I said,” John began, pressing the cigarette between clamped teeth, taking the now independent hand down to grope aimlessly one, two times at his groin. He emitted a staggered whimper in a pleased, desperate reaction.

“That’s what I thought. I expect no less of you.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” John grumbled, muffled by his smoking as he continued his habits, fingers extending and contracting around the swell in his pants.

“What a predicament. Constantine is so needy he’s taken to near-jacking off in my car.” You mocked, “Albeit I’m not all that surprised, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve been away from you for a week now…cut me some fuckin’ slack.” He sighed, returning his hand to his cigarette, his other free hand swapping to pick up the responsibilities.

“I get that, but all I said was that you’re a slut. Now you’re getting off-“ -John impeded your words with a garbled moan- “just to my insults alone. Which…yeah, makes sense.”

“Shut up, I know, I know…” John muttered hazily, now unzipping his pants.

“Shut up? I thought you were enjoying me rambling dirty things to you.”

“T-Turn of phrase, you bastard,” John huffed, palming at the waistband of his now-exposed boxers, toying with the mere concept of touching himself.

“So is that a ‘keep going’ or-?”

“Yes, for fucks sake, that’s a keep going,” John complained, taking a quick drag from his cigarette before thrusting a hand down his pants to aimlessly grope at himself. He added a small, “please” eventually.

“Christ, John,” you chuckled, driving with one hand, the other kneading at your forehead as you shook it in disbelief. “You kill me sometimes. I mean,” you began, resting your elbow on the console between you two, offhandedly gesturing towards him as you spoke, “…I mean, you can’t even wait until we get home?”

“Not when you’re calling me your slut and bullshit like that, n-no,” John moaned, his cock now out and clasped in one hand, cigarette to mouth in the other, with his head thrown back.

“Damn you, pretty boy. Damn you.” You muttered as you felt your body stir amidst his moans. You had another twenty or so minutes to go until you got home. No way you could hold out.

“Pretty boy…hmhnnm…I like that a lot,” his hand was moving lazily now, thrusting from head to base in a tired grip.

“I’ve gotta admit, John, you had me pretty fucked over when you were gone all this week. I swear my moans would’ve turned a deaf man to a hearing one. All ‘cause of you, of course.”

“Tell me how you’d touch yourself.”

“Fast.” You said with finality, reveling in the cacophony of curses that melted from John when you said that. “...and rough. Just like how we fuck, hmm?”

“Yeah, yeah, just-just like how we fuck.” John gasped, breath only coming in sporadic, far between bursts, separated by an asphyxiated period of whines. One of which was a jumbled mess of your name. Soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You’ve never parked a car on the side of the road faster.

“Fuck you, pretty boy. Fuck you and your stupid fucking pretty moans-” You grumbled, unlatching your seat belt and then leaning over the console, finding a position with your knees facing him, hand swatting his away so you could take over jerking him off.

“I love it when you steal control of the situation from me,” John moaned, leaning back into the chair, eyes fluttering closed as you took the reins for him.

“I know you do, Johnny, that's why I’m doing this. I’d go as far to say I know you to a fault, right? Knowing all your…” you flicked several fingers over the head of his cock while thrusting your hand, much to his audible pleasure, “...weaknesses.”

“Know me too well, know me too bloody well, fuck!” He rambled, absently bucking his hips into your grip several times with less than poor composure.

Taking note of his unbridled desperation, you picked up your pace to something nearing brutal. His breath picked up as a consequence you easily reveled in. You didn’t stop exploiting his sensitive spot around the head of his cock, and ended up with a grin every time he whimpered. Thank fuck this backroad was empty.

A low rumble grew in Constantine’s throat as he bit his lip, trying to gather himself under your influence.

“Don’t bother with that dignity bullshit, love. You know I love hearing you.” You reminded, careening over to kiss his exposed neck, with his head thrown back, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Okay, yeah, yeah…please-please keep going.” John sighed, his moans making him tremble at this point. “I think ‘m gonna cum.”

“Then cum for me, make a mess outta my hand.”

“Fuck-yeah, I w-will,” he groaned. Soon after his back arched and his eyes snapped tightly shut, shaking as he did as he promised, spilling over your still moving hand. You kept going throughout his orgasm, using his cum as a lubricant. Slowly but surely, you winded down as did he. His back straightened out, and his eyes fluttered back open to meet yours.

“Well, thanks.” He mumbled, smiling broadly, with the hint of weariness in his voice as he calmed down.

“Anytime, Constantine.” You replied, returning his pleased expression. Before he could stop you, you wiped your cum-ladened hand over his trenchcoat, drying it. He opened his mouth to tell you off, but you silenced him with a passionate kiss. He gave up the fight and melted into it, but when you pulled away, he muttered something along the lines of, “this is my nice coat.”

“Alright. Let's get ourselves back home, shall we?” You said, resuming your position in the driver’s seat, buckling yourself in. John, too, righted himself, slipping his boxers and pants back on with a small, shaky exhale of contentment. You added, as you shifted back into gear and got on the road, “We can finish what we started when we get back.”

“...finish?”

“Yeah, gps says we’ve got 15 minutes to go. Think you can recover in that time frame?”

“Do I think I can recover? One look at you and I’m painfully hard, love.”

“You’re such a charmer, Johnny.”

“I try.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, but there’s an idea that has been on my mind lately and I just need to get it out there and share it with someone. Lately I’ve been thinking about a whumpee sitting in the passenger seat of caretaker’s car, being driven home after caretaker picked them up from the bar. Under the influence of alcohol, whumpee starts casually rambling about the fucked up shit that whumper did to them, all of which caretaker was completely unaware of. Whumpee wasn’t normally the type to open up to them. Caretaker is horrified, while whumpee is too drunk to even notice caretaker’s stunned reaction.

CW: References to domestic violence, drug use, derogatory self-talk, Kauri being a Drunk Mess. Takes place early after Kauri starts coming to the safehouse.

"I said, 'Oh my God, look at that face,'" Kauri sings, voice husky and cracking, boneless against the passenger seat. "You look like my next mistake-"

"Annnnnnd we're not listening to this," Jake interrupts, leaning forward to switch from the random dance-pop playlist to his own personal one. Kauri's glimmering smile fades into an overwrought pout in response.

"Boo. You have the worst taste in music."

"I do not. I just don't want to listen to you drunk-sing Taylor Swift, that's all. Not again. Last time you cried."

"Excuse me, Jakob Stanton, that was a private performance and you should be glad I didn't make you pay for the concert of the century." Kauri kicks his dirty Vans up on Jake's clean dash, crossing his legs at the ankles. He drops his right hand down to pull the little lever on the side of his seat, the back falling backwards until he's nearly lying down. "Not my fault I get carried away with emotions."

"Ever tried not doing that?"

"Yeah." Kauri smiles again. Jake pretends not to glance sidelong to watch his eyes move, like he can see the stars right through the roof of Jake's car. There's a hickey on Kauri's neck, bruising in the shape of teeth and tongue. Might be lipstick smudged on an earlobe. Kauri's own mouth seems too red in the dark, yellowed under the occasional streetlight.

It isn't the answer Jake expects. "What?"

"Course I tried. You think I let this pretty face be ruined by all those ugly tears before? It's in my training, you know. No tears unless he wants them, no screams he doesn't demand, nothing left that he didn't pay for. He wants a gorgeous face, not some asshole who feels things and has opinions."

Jake falls quiet. His music seems incongruous now, clashing with Kauri's soft voice. He takes a turn, driving out of downtown where he'd found Kauri giggling outside yet another bar, dancing with a group of people who looked just as wounded as he does.

He isn't as good as Kauri is at knowing, but he thought at least two of them probably had barcodes hidden underneath jewelry and long sleeves, too.

Romantics run away often, it's in Jake's literature. But they struggle once they're out. They don't know how to make a living. They tend to shoplift because no one showed them how to pay, they can't get a job anyway even when they know what to do. They get treated like shit and taken advantage of... and they go back. They're bad at hiding, at blending in. They get caught, or they go back.

"There's a lot in you that nobody made but you." Jake wishes he was better at this. He's still kind of new at it, and Kauri hasn't been coming around that long. He still has some bandages under his shirt, covering the fresh scar on his collarbone.

"Therein, Jakob, lies the problem." Kauri intones the sentence like a professor delivering a lecture. "Mr. Owen hated all those parts, because none of them were in the person I was supposed to be."

Jake tries not to grind his teeth too obviously. Mr. Owen. Fucking asshole.

"I tried not to feel things that I wasn't supposed to. I was great it, too, for a while. Even better at lying once the feelings showed up anyway. But that wasn't enough, because it was a lie and we both knew it. Love is just lying, for us. To ourselves. To the owners. To everyone. We don't really mean it. We don't know how."

Jake licks at his lips. They sit at a stoplight, and he wishes he'd told Nat to get Kauri instead. Or had told Kauri no, figure it out, it's late and Jake doesn't want to be doing this.

But Kauri called, and he came.

It's a bad habit he can't let himself get into, or he'll be who Kauri always calls on nights like this.

He hopes so, anyway.

"We lie." Kauri's voice is a haze, fog rolling in off the bay. Kauri sounds the way someone looks when they're far enough away that every edge has softened. "We manipulate, we steal, we plead and flatter and fuck like rabbits. And there's absolutely nothing underneath."

"Kaur, you know that isn't true-"

"Every time there was," Kauri continues, as if Jake hadn't spoken, "He hurt me, and then he put me back in my box."

The light finally turns green, and Jake presses down on the gas. "Your box?"

"My delivery box. He kept it, set it up against the wall. When I couldn't be empty enough for him, when he remembered it was all just the two of us lying to each other, he would put me back in it. In the dark... all by myself." Kauri blinks rapidly, and Jake sees streetlight gleam, dim and yellow, off the tears escaping the corner of his eye to soak saltwater into his hair, just above his ear. "Can't feel anything. Can't see anything. Can't hear anything. He'd leave me for hours. One time for-... for over a day. Once he even moved it around like he was sending me b-back."

"Holy fuck."

Jake thinks about that.

He thinks about the way Kauri flinches away from small spaces, sleeps outside because the doors don't lock when there aren't any.

"Jesus," He whispers.

Kauri doesn't seem to notice.

"I just got so tired of pretending I didn't feel it when he hit me," Kauri says, holding his hands up, looking at his own palms. The leather bracelet that hides his barcode looks like handcuffs at this angle, in what passes for light at midnight under nothing but tree canopies lining residential streets. "I couldn't keep it up and he couldn't keep remembering I'm not ever going to suddenly become Vincent fucking Shield, even if he killed me. And... and he was gonna kill me sooner or later, right? After the choking started, the..." He touches his collarbone over his shirt. "He was going to, soon. And nobody would care."

Jake swallows, hard. "That's not-"

"I almost didn't even care anymore, either."

There's no way to respond to that.

He just listens.

"I got so tired of being empty. I couldn't lie to him any longer. Couldn't keep lying to me, either. I'm a failure, a broken pet. I wanted to tell the truth. Just the one time, I wanted to tell the truth without being put in the box, Jake. I wanted to say that I could hate him more than I loved him. I wanted to get to hate him at all. But there's... there's a problem with that."

"Is there?"

What the fuck else can he say?

"Yeah." Kauri digs a hand into his pocket. He swallows something before Jake can stop him. Maybe it's just Tylenol to hold off the hangover. Maybe. Probably not. Kauri'd smile swims, uneasy and seeming oddly seasick. "The problem... is that the truth isn't what I want it to be."

"Kauri-"

"I am empty, Jake. I got away from him and there isn't anything in here. They're right. I'm not even a person. Just a face and a cock. Just the cold and the walls and... and the box."

"That's not true-"

"It's okay." Kauri, absurdly, lays a hand on his arm to soothe him. "It's okay. I don't even mean it. I'm just rambling, Jake. None of it means anything. I am so drunk, just ignore me, yeah? Just talking shit, that's all." He suddenly smiles, bright as any star, and jerks his seat back upright. "Hey, can we go to Burger King? I want some fries."

The sudden swerve of mood feels like driving right off a cliff but finding yourself suddenly flying a plane.

"What? It's twelve-thirty in the morning-"

"Drive-thru is open til one. Come on, Jake, please?" Kauri's eyes are absurdly wide, too blue.

Jake groans. "Yeah, fine."

Kauri claps his hands together with glee, half-lunging to grab Jake's mp3 player. "You're my favorite person on earth, Jake. Now, where is the list with the pretty orangey looking background color..."

Kauri keeps his eyes carefully unfocused so he won't read the letters. The guitar starts up for the first song in the list, and Kauri grins. Whatever he swallowed is already starting to work on him, pupils wide, wiping out so much of the gorgeous blue.

This time, Jake doesn't stop him from singing along.

-

@finder-of-rings  @endless-whump  @arlin-always-writing  @thefancydoughnut  @newandfiguringitout  @doveotions  @pretty-face-breaker  @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow  @boxboysandotherwhump  @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump  @burtlederp  @whump-tr0pes  @autophagay  @whumptywhumpdump  @whumpiary  @orchidscript  @outofangband  @eatyourdamnpears  @hackles-up  @grizzlie70  @mylifeisonthebookshelf  @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ : ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

s e r i e s m a s t e r l i s t / c o m p l e t e m a s t e r l i s t

ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

"Lucía you're going to kill me. You need to slow down" Lando practically screams at me as I drive us back to the villa. Since we left the club he's hung onto the car for his life.

"You're the worst passenger ever! I'm literally driving the speed limit Lando and I'm being careful because I'm not used to driving this car. I can't wait to get you in my car" I say laughing as I look at Lando.

"Are we back yet? I feel like we've been driving forever" as I pull into the grounds of the villa I turn off the car and stop to look at Lando.

"I've never heard anything so dramatic. Come on" getting out of the car a let myself into the villa Lando following close behind.

"This place is insane" feeling Lando's arms snake around my waist I move my head to the side giving him access to my neck. My body just reacts to him and his touch, I've never had a feeling like this with someone before. "You're insane Lucía. I can't wait to have you to myself on Wednesday"

"I can't wait to see what you have planned" turning around in Lando's arms I wrap my arms around his neck "how does it feel knowing you're a formula one race winner?"

"Fucking incredible. Even better knowing I had you there. You might have been wearing Aston Martin colours but I know you were supporting McLaren deep down"

"Do you want to know something no one else does?" I ask pulling Lando onto the sofa with me.

"What is it?"

"I was wearing orange underwear for you" biting my lip I pull my dress up slightly extending the invite to Lando.

"Oh fuck you're still wearing orange now" I let out a small moan as I feel Lando's fingers trace over the lace of my thong "maybe this is my lucky charm. You're so ready for me"

"Lando I've been ready for you all day" grabbing the back of the collar of Lando's shirt I pull it over his head not even bothering with the buttons. I just want his clothes off.

"Lucía are you back here?" Hearing a commotion and voices I mumble a quick 'fuck' under my breath before my dad, his friends, my friends and Max come flying into the living area. Lando's head is buried in my shoulder and I know he's thinking the same as me. We should have gone to his hotel.

"Whoa it looks like Lando was about to get his real prize for winning" Danielle shouts drawing everyone's attention to me and Lando. My friends have no idea what it means to be subtle.

"Lando I know I said I'm okay with you seeing my daughter but I don't want to physically see you on top of her"

"Oh my god papá! Stop please!" I could quite literally die of embarrassment right now.

"Fernando mate, I can't help that she likes to be shown a good time" Lando says with a laugh pulling his shirt back on.

"Oh Christ Chels he's got a death wish!" Practically hiding behind Chelsea I make my way into the kitchen to grab drinks for everyone. I said I wasn't going to drink tonight but right now I need a tequila. Possibly six.

"Lucía he better not hurt you" my dad says joining me pouring a tray of shots in the kitchen "if he's only using you for sex he won't know what he's getting himself into"

"Papá! I thought you said you weren't getting involved? And how do you know it's not me using him for sex? Trust me papá, me and Lando are on the same page but if I need you I know where you are" I really don't want to have this conversation with my dad but I need to get through it as much as I can for now then when I get home I can get my mum to have this conversation with my dad.

"Okay I won't get involved" my dad says holding his hands up in defeat. I know this won't be the end of it but while my dad is drunk it's the last thing I want to talk about with so many people around "come on lets get these shots out there. Everyone is in the pool"

Carrying two trays of tequila out to the pool I pass the tray around before sitting on the side of the pool with Lando, Ryan, Millie and Callum. It's funny how quick my friends have taken to Lando being around, they don't know him but for me they seem to be giving him a chance. When he's with Ryan and Callum he's one of them.

"What's on your mind?" Millie asks sitting next to me.

"Nothing serious. I'm just thinking of what you all interrupted when you came home. I could be at least two orgasms deep by now instead I'm entertaining all of these drunk lunatics"

"I'm sure you won't miss out on any orgasms tonight Lucía" Millie laughs while rolling her eyes "he's besotted with you, he can't keep his eyes off you regardless of how drunk he is now" looking up I see Lando's eyes on me, even if he is mid-conversation he still manages to throw a wink my way causing me to blush. Blush for gods sake, I'm Lucía Alonso I don't blush.

"No one has ever made me feel the way he does Millie. I can't explain it, I've never had this before but it scares me. When he's happy, I'm happy and vice versa. I hated seeing him so upset after the race in Hungary"

"You're in love. You'll deny it because you're Lucía and you're not used to being all in with someone because they usually fuck you over before you get to that stage but this time it could the real deal. I don't want to sound cliche but you need to trust the process" listening to Millie I know she's right. I don't ever give my whole heart to someone because it usually turns out they're using me, most of the time for Formula One tickets so now I keep myself closed off.

"You're right and I know you are. I suppose I just need to give him the benefit of the doubt" Lando has never done anything to make me think he has ill intentions, I have to believe he's in this for the right reasons.

[seitmai]

Better late than ever, many thoughts

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

🥰🥰🥰

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

This is the right propaganda hehe

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst." "I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl." She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

God I love Nat

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Urgh Bradley, why are you like this? This is the appropriate reaction by Nat 🤷🏻‍♀️

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

I have a feeling, and this is gonna be good 🤗🥰

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

I think we can agree the lie has been appropriately been compensated 🥰🥹

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

Violet, you are damn right!☝🏻

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

He is ready, and has been ready for a while

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

🥹🥰🥹🥰

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley intended to take care of a few important things while he had the week off from work, but a quick visit to base brought with it a change of plans.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, spanking, 18+

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

The following day, instead of dressing in a uniform or flight suit, Bradley pulled on jeans and a tropical print shirt while he watched you get yourself ready for work.

"You look cute," he murmured as you wiggled into a dress and some simple flats. "And I like it that you're officially living here now instead of just staying for a few days."

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

Fuck. He was so in love it was insane. As soon as he was back in your presence for a few hours, having sex and eating pasta, he could barely remember how miserable he'd been on that deployment. It was like nothing else mattered as long as he kept coming back to you.

"Let me pack your lunch," he whispered, tilting your chin up for another one of those kisses. Then he was on his way to the kitchen before he could make you late for school. Before he got home, you filled the refrigerator with everything he liked to eat, and he inhaled two yogurts and some peanut butter toast while he made your sandwich. 

The notes you opened from the box he sent were on the kitchen counter, and he smiled. Nat covered for him big time on Christmas Eve so he could make that happen. He was excited to get to see her when he stopped by North Island, but he had to get you to work first.

"You don't need to drop me off. It's so far out of the way," you told him as you appeared with your tote bag. "I'll drive myself."

When he pouted, you laughed. "Come on, Gorgeous. I want to. I need to stop on base anyway."

"Oh, can you remind Marty and Nat about Career Day?" you asked, holding your bag open for your lunch.

"Nat's coming, too? You'll have the whole of the Navy there, Baby."

"The kids would love that."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "As long as I'm still the favorite."

"You're irreplaceable," you promised.

You weren't exaggerating one bit when you said the commute was a killer. Bradley hummed along to the radio and held your hand, barely making it through the Starbucks drive-thru line and up to your school before the last minute that you needed to be there.

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

It was strange to be going through the guard gates this late in the morning, and when he approached the hangar in his street clothes, he heard Nat's voice and sassy whistle immediately. 

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst."

"I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing harder. "That's why I want to do it all the time. I intend to do it forever."

One of her dark eyebrows shot up, and she smirked as she said, "Like forever, forever?"

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Bradley was saved from being attacked when Maverick walked in with his familiar clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Phoenix, you're supposed to be in the tower. Rooster, welcome back. Why aren't you dressed?"

"My vacation days got approved," Bradley replied as Natasha quietly crept away. "I'm off the rest of the week. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"It's probably in my emails." Maverick's frown faded away as he pulled Bradley in for a hug. "I was a little worried for a minute there that you'd end up back in Norfolk." He slapped him on the back. "If you're off all week, why are you here?"

Bradley chuckled. "I just wanted to see everyone. Like you said, I was a little worried about Norfolk, too."

Maverick eyed him closely. "And did I hear you say something about an engagement ring?"

It wasn't like there was anything to hide. Bradley figured it was pretty obvious to everyone by now that his relationship with you was the real deal. Hell, Maverick even compared it to his own parents. "Yeah, I'm going to buy one this month. I just need to juggle some finances around to make sure I can get her something really pretty. But I'm going to start looking today."

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

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

You were dead on your feet at work. Staying up half the night making love and snuggling left you with a smile on your face, but you couldn't stop yawning. Your students noticed right away as you drained your coffee and groaned when the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping?" Jayden asked.

"A little bit," you replied, remembering the way you had to keep pinching yourself to make sure Bradley's strong arm wrapped around you all night was real.

"Was there a loud noise that kept you up?" Nia asked.

You tried not to snort as you thought about Bradley's moans and grunts in your ear as he fucked you from behind. "Something like that. It's time to review our spelling words."

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw's here!" Nia called out when your boyfriend knocked on the door before slipping inside. 

He made a beeline right to you, placing a rather innocent kiss on your cheek. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drop these off," he said, holding up the envelopes. The top one had Jackie's name on it, and your heart soared. Butterflies took off. You had to work really hard not to kiss him again.

"We don't mind," you told him, and you watched him pass out the individual notes he must have written for your students while he was deployed. All eyes were on him as he walked around your classroom, delivering envelopes and answering questions.

"When did you get home from the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Was the food good on the aircraft carrier?"

"Are you coming back for Career Day on Friday?"

Bradley took everything in stride like he always did, but his eyes returned to yours frequently, and his flushed cheeks left you feeling dizzy.

"I got home yesterday," he said, voice deep and commanding as he set the last of his envelopes down on Violet's desk. "The food was terrible. So bad. Nothing like the Pacific Fleet. Nowhere near as good as what you ate on your field trip to North Island. I'm thinking about writing a letter to complain."

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

"You're so right," he replied with a nod. "And yes, I'll be back on Friday for Career Day. Your teacher worked so hard on it, I wouldn't miss it for anything." You were gripping the edge of your desk now as he smiled at you.

"I didn't know you were allowed to wear anything except your uniforms," marveled Oliver.

Bradley looked down at his patterned shirt and laughed. "Should I stick with the flight suit for Friday?"

Then the dismissal bell rang, and your kids started to scramble. You usually had them packed up and ready to go a few minutes early, but Bradley was clearly more exciting than the end of the school day. 

"Don't forget about the spelling test tomorrow!" you called out as they all exited the room in a mass of chaos after high fiving your boyfriend. "Thanks for surprising us," you said as you spun to face him.

"Thanks for being so perfect that I can't stay away from you."

Your cheeks blazed with warmth as you ducked against his chest. Muscular arms wrapped you up in a hug as you muttered, "Did you remind Natasha and Marty about Friday?"

"Mmhmm."

"And did you get to see Maverick?"

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

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

Bradley spent the following day unpacking more of your stuff while you were at work. You had all these fancy things he needed to make room for. Like an air fryer. And a rice cooker. Things he would have never used otherwise, but he didn't mind having them here now. 

He took breaks to read from the journal you kept while he was away, often smiling and laughing at what you'd written in your daily log. It was no wonder he fell in love with you through your writing; you were just the same as you were in person and so authentic this way. Then he read about the day you helped Edith with some chores, and he sprawled out on the couch with a groan.

You were the sweetest thing in his life. One time, Vanessa told him that Edith was annoying and only wanted attention. He rolled his eyes then, and he rolled them again now. She was elderly. Of course she wanted attention. But Bradley knew she also had arthritis, and helping her with yard work was fast and painless for him. He couldn't imagine you saying anything like that.

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

Maybe he could write something for you. Maybe he should take you out to dinner again. There had to be a way to make it just right so you couldn't say no.

After a few more minutes of indulging in the fantasy of having you as his wife, he stood up and attempted to use the air fryer to make lunch. Pretty soon he gave up and made a sandwich instead before walking next door to knock on Edith's door.

"Bradley!" she said, pulling the door open for him. "You're home. Your girlfriend told me you were deployed earlier this month."

"I just got back on Monday. A little bruised, but no worse for the wear," he told her with a smile. "I wanted to see if you needed help with anything."

"Oh, your sweet girlfriend already changed my light bulbs for me," she told him. Then she lowered her voice and smirked. "She's a looker."

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "She's Gorgeous. She also moved in with me, so if I'm not home and you need something, you can always ask her, okay?" 

Edith fretted her hands, and Bradley leaned back out the open front door, knowing she wouldn't agree to his help unless she paid him in some way. Truthfully, he really did feel like playing the piano anyway. "It looks like you've got some weeds that need to be pulled, and your downspout is loose again. How about you think of a cool song to teach me, and I'll be back in like fifteen minutes?"

He ducked outside before she could answer, but he could hear her tapping away at the piano keys as he yanked some dried up weeds out of the soft soil. While he worked, he pictured the sheet music that Edith kept stacked up inside the piano bench, and he started to come up with an idea. The more he thought about the pages stacked up in his own house, the more he liked his plan. 

He was all smiles when he sat down for her to teach him how to play a Bob Dylan classic, and he was still whistling the tune when he went to pick you up from work.

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

On Thursday night, Bradley had you snuggling on top of him on the couch when you should have really been going over your final plans for Career Day. "You are such a distraction," you whispered, arms and legs wrapped up with his to keep warm since you were wearing nothing but his old sweatshirt.

His fingers flexed on the back of your thigh as he smirked and turned his head to face you instead of the TV. "And you're the best for helping me relax all week." His breath was warm on your cheek, and he kissed you there, saying, "Don't stress about tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "I still have to put all of my guests in order. I need to schedule the most impressive presentation last, for the grand finale."

"Okay, so put me last then, Gorgeous."

You grinned and tried not to giggle. "I was actually thinking Marty."

Bradley's hand slid up from your thigh, smoothing over your butt, and you knew what was coming even before you clenched with need. Bradley smacked you one time, and you moaned as he soothed away the sting with his palm. You were instantly aroused, fingers tingling and ears burning. Bradley's dark eyes were wide, searching your face, questioning what he should do next. When you nodded once, he grunted, and that big hand landed on you again, breaking the silence.

"Fuck," you gasped, rear end stinging as Bradley cupped and squeezed you, pulling you a few inches up his body so he could kiss you. His cock was getting hard in his gym shorts, pressing against your belly, driving you wild.

"You like that?" he whispered between heated kisses, but you barely wanted to take the time to breathe.

"Yes," you replied, mouth mashing against his. Both of his hands came up to your waist, yanking the sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor. Then your lips were back on his as you moaned into his mouth.

The sex had been so sweet since he got home, and neither of you could be blamed for wanting so much of it after going so long without. But this was something else. Bradley's fingers dug into your flesh, and his kisses were rough. Demanding. You spread your legs a little wider, arching your back, silently begging for him to spank you again.

He did not disappoint.

You were aching, whining his name, enthralled by the cocky smirk on his face and the possessiveness in his eyes. "You want more, Gorgeous?" he asked, voice dark as his smirk grew. When you nodded vigorously, he kissed your lips so softly before he said, "You'll schedule me last for Career Day? I think it's where I belong, since I'm the most impressive."

Oh my god. He was playing with you now. You knew he wasn't actually jealous of Marty or Nat or any of the classroom parents, but he knew that you knew that your students would always think he was the most impressive. You would, too.

When you tried to kiss him, he pulled his face away from yours as he stroked your tender rear end with his fingertips. "Yes," you promised, "I'll put you last. You're the most impressive."

"Good girl." 

You gasped as he spanked you one more time, then he kissed you before pushing you up so you were straddling his thighs. When he yanked down his gym shorts, you were treated to the sight of his cock, thick and hard, smacking against his abs.

"Clearly I think you're impressive," he grunted, licking his thumb before running it along your swollen clit. It took no more coaxing before you had your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him right where you wanted. You sank down on him, already a mess as he thrust up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" His hands were on your breasts, cupping you as he bucked his hips up again.

"Look at you," he rasped, fucking you rough while his hands were gentle. You bounced up and down, bracing yourself awkwardly on the too small couch. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked, eyes glued on your face and body. "Show me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his right wrist and moved his hand back to your butt. "A little more," you told him, voice shaking as he fucked you so good. Then he spanked you again and again, and you could feel it everywhere as you cried out. 

It was too much and not enough, and you bit your lip as he alternated between soothing you and spanking you until you were shaking, orgasm building. "Baby, you look and feel too good like this," he whined, wrapping his hands around your hips. "I'm so close."

But you were already there. You came as you leaned down and kissed him, those big hands sliding up, stroking your shoulders and neck as gently as you were used to while your ass tingled. You were making some wild sounds as you rode him until he filled you with his cum, then the two of you were panting in unison as your forehead came to rest against his.

You could feel him smiling, mustache brushing your lips as he said, "That was fun. Didn't know you would like it so much."

You moaned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are. And I'll put you last tomorrow. You're the grand finale. Obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed. "Just keep in mind, I'll be more than happy to spank you when you give me a hard time like that again." His lips found the side of your neck, his cock was still inside you as he murmured, "Got it?"

"Oh, loud and clear."

He chuckled, nipping along your skin as your butt throbbed a bit. You didn't want to move, but his stomach started loudly growling. Carefully, you started to sit up, brushing your fingers through his hair as you said, "It's been hours since you ate. Let's find something in the kitchen."

When you stood on wobbly legs, Bradley stayed lounging on the couch, guiding you and turning you so he could place one soft kiss on the spot on your butt where he had spanked you. Then he got to his feet as well, picked up the sweatshirt, and put it back on you.

He kissed the back of your neck and told you he never wanted to leave you again while you made him a grilled cheese sandwich. "Love you too much," he muttered, hand on your thigh as his leg brushed your tender rear end.

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

When the sandwich was ready, you cut it into four triangles and took a small bite out of one before holding it up for him to eat it. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered, finishing it in one bite before you fed him the second one and then the third in similar fashion. He was finishing the last piece when he wrapped his arms around you and said, "Okay, Gorgeous, now I'm ready to help you get organized for Career Day before bed."

You laughed. "I just need to write a few things down and pick out an outfit."

"Oh. I wouldn't wear anything too tight," he suggested, smirking once more. "You're about to be sore tomorrow."

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

Okay, Maverick. Okay. Career Day is up next, and I need something nice to be there for Marty. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[unpretty]

Posted on August 8, 2004 at three minutes to midnight:

Today was one of the worst days I've ever had at work. Allow me to explain.

I work as deck crew for a sightseeing boat company in Chicago that does architecture tours on the river downtown. I had already worked two 15 hour days Friday and Saturday and intentionally showed up a half hour late this morning to try and squeeze another half hour of sleep in (I knew what had to be done in the morning on the boat that I was on, because I left it eight hours previous, and knew how long setup would take). Needless to say, I was already ready to go home.

Then came the 1 o'clock architecture ride. 117 ticketed passengers on board plus an extra four who showed up on Michigan Avenue for a boat ride that actually launches out of Navy-fucking-Pier, whom we were nice enough to let on for free.

We're puttering down the river, we turn north at the junction and proceed, as we do on every tour, beneath the Kinzie Street bridge. Now, the bridges all have grated decking. You can look up and see the sky through them. In the Captain's pre-tour safety announcements it's usually mentioned one should not look up with your mouth open in wonder, since a car might go by and you might get an unpleasant "Taste of Chicago" ha ha ha. (The Taste of Chicago is an annual summer food festival held in Grant Park.)

Now, that really never actually ever happens. Not that I've ever seen. Today, of course, had to be different.

I'm relaxed in the pilot house with a crossword (since during the rides themselves I just sit while the people get their tour from the volunteer docent, and the crossword kept me awake) when I hear this splattering noise, like a heavy rain, and a few scattered yelps. I get up, go outside, and look out over the passengers seated on the deck.

The passengers on the left side are all wet, and appear horrified. Something behind the boat is raining through the bridge into the river.

"Shit," I think, "some idiot Streets & San employee just went over with a street sweeper and soaked our passengers."

Then I notice the passengers appear a lot more horrified than that.

"Oh my god!"

"It got in my mouth!"

"It's urine!"

The smell hits me. It's old urine.

Ah, shit.

I look up onto the bridge and see a black coach bus, like the kinds old ladies take group vacations on, disappearing past the buildings. They had gone over the bridge, and being ignorant fucks probably decided they could skip a pisstank pumpout by just opening it into the river, through the bridge. Talk about the wrong place at the wrong time.

I said to the captain, "Turn the boat around. Now."

Now, being the assigned deck crew on this ride, I have to handle this. The captain has to drive. Needless to say, I'm not entirely sure how to handle 60 people who all need to be sanitized and given antibiotic shots at once. We train to handle people falling into the water, heat stroke, shit like that, not a torrential downpour of human waste beneath Kinzie street.

All I can do at this point is hold my breath and give away every paper towel and work rag on the boat, and wait until I have a clear idea of exactly what to tell them as a whole. Some passengers are of course visibly distressed. Women have hair matted to their face, peoples clothing is sticking to them, babies are crying. I'm close to being sick all over the deck, and really worried that someone else is going to, because I know as soon as someone does it's just going to be a domino wave of barfing that will sweep across the boat like a sickly sweet stomach shockwave.

Nobody did. Thank God for small favors (you know, the ones He thinks make up for shit like this).

These people, to put it bluntly, were very pissed off. Now I also get to be the company PR face, so like a good little worker bee I try and balance being as helpful and understanding and apologetic as I can, with helping to maintain the balance of the Bureaucratic Tower of Shit looming above me.

The captain's already on the cell phone doing damage control. I'm to tell everyone they are, of course, granted full refunds, and anybody that needs anything extra on top of it because of what happened will get it. I'm specifically told to mention that while we can't call ten ambulances down because the situation is not life threatening, a lot of them are going to want to visit a hospital sometime soon. What I don't mention is some of the shit these people will now have to worry about, ranging from tetanus to hepatitis. The best we can do for them is pay for a cab to Northwestern Hospital for anyone who needs it.

Then come the usual asshats.

"We want a representative on the dock, to take names of everyone involved in this."

"How is all this stuff of mine going to be replaced? There's no way I'm going to pay for this."

"You coming out here and telling us that we can have refunds and cab fare to a hospital is downright fucking insulting. I want a bus for these people."

( You want a bus? Excuse me, then, Spartacus, while I pull one out of my ass. )

"Refunds? A lot of us have jewelry on that's now soaked in urine."

( I wasn't aware gold could be used to soak up liquids. )

"I have a flight to catch at five, and now I've got urine in my phone, in my clothes."

You have three fucking dots on your sleeve, and let me remind you this is not our fault. It's not as if the captian saw that shit pouring down and drove under it anyway.

The problem, of course, was that little bridge joke. It's funny only if it doesn't happen. Now that they've all got that "Taste of Chicago", people have the idea in their heads this shit happens all the time and that we know about it, and are therefore to be held accountable for what is in reality a rather fucked up act of God (see above).

We're back at the dock, and an army of urine-soaked people march on the ticket office. Great, they're gone and now they're Diane's problem.

"Well," I thought, "The dock guys are gonna help clean up the boat, and I get to go home early."

Nope. No such luck. As the five of us, including the bartender on the boat, are scrubbing off all 104 chairs and the deck, The captain reappears.

"Who's been telling people there's no 3 o'clock?"

"Not I," says I, then I stop in mid scrub. "Wait ... there's a 3 o'clock?"

"Yeah, they want to send us back out on the 3, and then the 5 after it."

Ah, shit.

"Are you kidding me? My shoes and pants legs are soaked in piss and boat soap and they want us to turn the boat around in a half hour for another god damned ride?"

"Yep, 'fraid so."

The Bureaucratic Tower of Shit, I think, is defined as people at the top having no idea what's actually going on at the bottom, and vice versa.

A call is placed to my father, who now has to make a forty minute drive into the city with a change of clothes for me. (He didn't make it by 3, and I had to spend the next 90 minutes trapped on the boat in fucking nasty clothes thanks to the main office and their money.)

Meantime, though, as I scrub my way to the back end (stern), I'm basically running the hose directly into the all-weather speaker to try and get rid of the smell back there. It won't go away. I then look up at the American flag flying off the pole on the stern.

Ah, shit. It's soaked too.

We cut it down, I take it and make sure I fold it proper, with the triangles and shit, and then of course we smuggle it around past the pilot house where the passengers won't see us placing it into a trash bag to deal with later. :ninja:

Cleanup continues, until a guy on the dock wants to talk to me. I've had people coming up constantly and asking things, what do I do about this, where do I go for that, and I just point at the ticket office and say "Talk to them."

Before I can do that to him he says, "Hi. I'm a photographer for the Chicago Tribune."

Ah, shit.

Company policy is that all press stuff has to be directed to our main office. The main office is out in Palatine and nobody there knows a god damned thing about what goes on on the dock anyway besides how much money we make them.

He adds, "I've been getting some good shots of you all cleaning up the boat, and I thought it was touching the way you still folded the flag properly. :911: Can I get your name?"

:what:

A 3 o'clock, huh? Yeah, you can get my name. I'll spell the son of a bitch.

So now at least it's over, I'm showered, and I may be in the paper tomorrow.

Any Chicagoons have any ideas as to who might have shat on our boat? Black coach bus, gold letters (nobody got a chance to read them). A few people independently described it as a "Rock and Roll bus," which I can't really explain the meaning behind but it seems important.

I finished the crossword except for 7 letters too. :cool:

Twenty years ago today, a tour bus belonging to the Dave Matthews Band crossed the Kinzie Street Bridge in Chicago and dumped an estimated 800 pounds of waste onto unsuspecting tourists below.

This is that story.

[johnbazley]

Went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips

On Phoebe Bridgers and the Jesus leap

“His breakthrough was the aestheticization of weakness. Not in what conquers, not in glory, but in what’s fragile and what suffers—there lies sanity. And salvation. ‘Let anyone who has power renounce it,’ he said. ‘Your father is compassionate to all, as you should be.’ That’s how He talked, to those who knew Him.”

- John Jeremiah Sullivan, from his essay “Upon This Rock”

There is a particular anguish to loneliness of the spirit. I felt it every day in New York, when I rode an empty L train at 4:30am on the way home from my bar job, or in the crowd of a sold-out venue in Times Square as I looked around for my friends who didn’t make it to the show, or sitting on my rooftop in Ridgewood, staring out at the elevated line as the M as rolled into the Seneca Ave station, screeched to a halt, let the passengers off, and continued into Queens. It’s in the throat.

This specific brand of loneliness sears itself into the brain, as well. It comes with the feeling that I’m going to die this way, that I’ve climbed my way up to the top of this mountain and there’s no coming down, just me and my thoughts as I freeze to death here at the summit. Or maybe it’s a wide desert, or a prairie, nothing but sand or grass in any direction, no where to go but up. Maybe it’s an infinite ocean, a horizon line that’s impossibly far away. Either way, I’ve felt the loneliest in my life when I’ve done wrong, inflicted pain or inconvenience at someone’s else expense. When I crashed my car seven years ago, hydroplaned directly into the car in front of me as I slammed on the breaks, there was a lot of talk afterward about how it was no one’s fault. It wasn’t my fault, said my friends and family, because I slowed at an appropriate distance given the rain, and my brakes failed regardless. It wasn’t the fault of the woman whose car I crashed into, said those same loved ones, because the car in front of her stopped short as well, at a yellow light, the driver taking caution not to run a red light across train tracks, and the woman in front of me simply acted in interest of her own self-preservation. It just happened, at worst a mechanical failing or some oil slick on the road that surfaced during the rain storm. No one fucked up. Some things just happen that way: bad and for no reason. I ate spaghetti and homemade garlic bread that night, pushing clumps of tomatoes around my plate. I didn’t drive in the rain again for a month. I don’t remember the face or name of the woman who drove the car I crashed into. My insurance rate eventually became manageable. But I couldn’t shake the guilt. When I think about it this way, I understand why people turn to God. 

In the Apple Music description for her song “Chinese Satellite,” Phoebe Bridgers writes: “I have no faith—and that’s what it’s about. My friend Harry put it in the best way ever once. He was like, ‘Man, sometimes I just wish I could make the Jesus leap.’ But I can’t do it.” 

I love this, the imagery of faith as an insurmountable leap. It’s inevitable for people my age, Bridgers’ age, people who grew up into our broken world, which has only continued to show its widening stress fractures with each passing year, to fear putting our faith into anything at all. There’s an enormous cost to the gift of one’s faith. It’s a wide leap, wide enough to swallow you entirely if you’re not careful. If you have any hope of making it, you have to put the blinders on, ignore the distance below, and tell yourself that it’s not as far as it seems until you really, truly believe that it’s true. And even then, maybe you’ll brush the edge with your fingers as the stone crumbles against your palm, and slide to your doom. Maybe you won’t even make it that far.

Punisher is a consideration of that leap, an estimation of its distance. Bridgers is at her most earnest in “Chinese Satellite” as she sings “I want to believe / Instead I look at the sky and I feel nothing / You know I hate to be alone / I want to be wrong.” The image pairs with the album’s artwork, a textless photograph of Bridgers, dressed as a skeleton in the middle of a rocky dessert, looking up at a night sky filled with stars, an intense red light from an unseen source illuminating the singer from above. I want her to believe. I want to believe, too.

In an old song, “Funeral,” Bridgers addresses the man himself, lamenting her eternal sadness: “Jesus Christ, I’m so blue all the time / and that’s just how I feel, / always have and I always will.” It reads as half grievance, half prayer, like someone speaking in an empty room to no one, not acknowledging the possibility of a listening God, but not denying it either, if he has some help to offer. In the narrative of this song, Bridgers is booked to sing at the funeral “of a kid a year older than me.” Throughout, she dispels wide, mythological answers for her sadness. Don’t tell her about what her dreams mean, because she doesn’t believe in that stuff anymore. Don’t give her an answer for her sadness, or any type of explanation, because that’s just how she feels, always has, always will. The disposal of myth-making leads to a gut punch of the stakes in the final verse: “And last night, I blacked out in my car / and I woke up in my childhood bed, / wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself, / when I remembered someone's kid is dead.” For the album artwork, someone has painted a ghost over a person in an old photo.

I don’t mean to be cynical most of the time. I want to believe that, in my weakest moments, my life still has meaning, that my sadness will eventually develop into something with deeply validating meaning. This year has reminded me of my car crash in the sense that, every day, something bad happens for no reason. The Jesus leap looks more and more appealing each day. The distance looks shorter than ever.

I still don’t think I can make it. But this week, around five each evening, I’ve spent some time at the beach. I get on when the lifeguards leave and the crowd filters out, a few good hours before sunset. The water is as warm as it’ll be this year, and the weather has agreed with me for the most part. For the first time this year, I’ve swam in the New Jersey ocean, that massive wonder at the end of my street, and as the waves rock me, as I float on its salty surface, I stare at the horizon, wonder how far out I’m really seeing, let the waves crash over my head, and smile.

[sinner-as-saint]

Wanna Be Yours

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Uni AU)

Run-through: Your best friend has been acting weird, and one night while you’re hanging out like you both usually do, he finally tells you why he’s been acting kind of different lately. 

Themes: friends-to-lovers, fluff, smut, soft, car sex 

“Hey, Buck.” 

You couldn’t even hide the surprise in your tone as you answered his call, well into the evening. You heard him chuckle on the other side. 

“Why do you sound surprised?” He asked, his voice deeper on the phone than in real life. 

You scoffed, “Because I haven’t seen or heard from you in a whole week. Who ghosts their best friend like this? Seriously, Buck. You even left me alone at the party the other night, I had to hang out with people I don’t necessarily like.” 

He was quick to apologise, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’ll make up for it. Will you let me make up for it? I’ll come get you right now and we’ll grab something to eat and go for a drive, okay? We… I have stuff I need to tell you.” 

Just like that, he sounded all soft and sweet like a lost little puppy and you melted. “Asshole.” You muttered. “You’re lucky I miss you so much. Meet me downstairs in 10.” 

And just as planned, he was outside your building waiting for you. Leaning against his car, wearing his signature dark jeans and soft sweater - brown tonight. Bucky was your rock ever since day one. Your best friend. 

He smiled so big as you approached him, opening his arms waiting for you to walk into them as always. Except you got up close and punched his muscular arm instead, making him hiss in pain. “Ow!” 

“Fuck you, first of all. Second of all, do that shit again and I’ll punch you in the mouth.” You spat, walking over to the passenger side and hopped in. Bucky got in right after you, apologising already. But you cut him off, “Food first, you’re paying.” You said, leaning back into the seat, getting comfy as he drove the two of you away from campus. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

–

Bucky got you your favourites; he had almost all your orders memorised by now. Which was very sweet of him. 

After grabbing your food, Bucky drove to that one park you always went to whenever you needed to be away from uni. It was a safe, cosy little park with a little pond - surrounded by pine woods. 

It was quite a chilly night so the windows fogged up real quick as you both ate and talked. 

“I was worried, Buck.” You told him, “You’ve never done this before, a simple text would suffice, you know? I wouldn’t bother you if you needed your space but I was really worried when you didn’t respond to my messages, you weren’t even showing up to classes.” 

He sighed, putting his drink down as he leaned his head back. “I’m sorry. I was… figuring shit out. I needed to be away for a while.” 

You put your ice cream down, and turned a little to the side to face him better. “I thought we promised to share the hard stuff. You don’t have to carry it all alone, that’s what friends are for. That’s what I’m for.” 

He turned his head to face you, the street lights made his eyes look electric. His face was a little less lively than usual. The bags under his eyes were slightly more prominent, but he was still the pretty boy everyone knew him as. “I know.” He said softly. “I wanted to tell you, trust me. But I was scared, I guess.” 

You frowned, “Scared? Of what?” 

“What you would think.” He answered. 

“Bucky…” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, his sweater warm and soft under your touch. “I would never judge you. No matter what you do. I mean, we’ve seen each other at our worst. It’s fine if you don’t want to share or you-,” 

He cut you off quickly, “No, I want to.” 

You nodded, “Well then, I’m here. I’m always here.” 

Bucky took a deep breath. Exhaled loudly, then said, “I fell in love.” 

You couldn’t hold back the gasp which escaped your mouth. “You little shit!” You exclaimed, suddenly excited. “Wait, wait, wait, is it that girl from the library? The one who asked for your number like two weeks ago? No? Oh my god, is it the one you met at the café?” You listed off all the potential girls he could’ve fallen for but Bucky just rolled his eyes. 

He frowned, “What- no, no, not them.” He sighed, “Just, someone. And she’s really special. She’s so smart, and funny. She’s hilarious. It’s like, all my problems disappear when I’m around her. She makes even the worst days better just by being there, you know? And beautiful, my God she is beautiful. She captures the attention of everyone whenever she walks into a room, and she doesn’t even know the kind of effect she has on people.” Bucky spoke dreamily. 

You sat there, listening. 

“She’s like a walking talking daydream. Everything about her is just, so fucking perfect. She’s a bit of a nerd, but she tries to hide it by being sassy and thinks that no one notices how she fangirls over the littlest of things.” Bucky smiled, clearly lovesick. 

You had a faint smile on your face as you watched him going on and on about this girl. 

“And she was a bit mean too, you know?” He chuckled, “When I first met her, I was slightly intimidated but then she quickly became one of my best friends. Turns out, when she does lower her walls and lets you in, she actually has the kindest, biggest and warmest heart I’ve ever known.” 

Your heart pounded at that. Because as far as you knew, Bucky didn’t have any other girl friends. So… 

“Bucky, you-,” You started, but he cut you off gently. 

“Please let me say it, I’ve been carrying this around for too long. I-It’s driving me insane, she drives me insane. Let me say it, please.” He pleaded. 

You nodded, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. 

Bucky continued, maintaining eye contact, “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and no one’s ever made me this nervous. She is just… so lovely. And I didn’t even realise how much I love her, until I saw her in someone else’s arms recently and the only thought in my head was how badly I wanted to beat the living shit out of the bastard who held my girl instead of me.” 

You couldn’t hold the intensity of his stare any longer, not as you thought about how about two weeks ago Bucky began acting weird the moment he saw you and another one of your friends, Steve, hugging. 

You laughed nervously, playing with the zipper of your jacket. “She sounds incredible.” You said, then you asked, “Why aren’t you with her right now, then?” 

“I am.” 

Two words. Two little words and your eyes watered. Bucky sighed from beside you. “Look at me,” He spoke softly, reaching out to take your chin in between his fingers, turning your face towards him. His eyes glanced down at your mouth, and back up to your eyes a couple of times. 

The tension was dense, hot and heady. You could hear your heartbeats, echoing in your ears as you looked into his pair of pretty blue eyes. “Bucky…” You whispered, unable to say anything else but his name. Was it a plea, a warning, relief? You didn’t know. 

He spoke so softly, “I can’t pretend anymore. I love you, and I can’t keep lying to the both of us. Just, give me a chance. Let me love you.” 

You were quiet for a good few seconds, then as you parted your lips to speak, Bucky leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. Your hand instinctively reached up to cup his face, his stubble brushing against your fingertips in a familiar, warm way. 

You tilted your head to the side slightly, kissing him properly. Bucky has always been your safe place. And right now this felt safe. This kiss felt warm, and safe. 

His hand held you by the chin, keeping you in place as he kissed you deeply, passionately. Sighing and groaning softly against your mouth like he’s been starving for this very moment. “Fuck…” He whimpered quietly against your lips, and the sound of it made your stomach flip. “Come here, I need you closer.” He leaned back into his seat, pulling you onto his lap. 

And you shifted over the console, straddling his thighs as you lowered yourself down on his lap. Your arms went around his neck, and his wrapped around your waist, pulling you snug against him. 

He gave you a faint, nervous smile. “Hi,” He whispered, rubbing the tip of his nose with yours. 

“Hi,” You whispered, smiling down at him as he slowly trailed his hands downwards till they rested at the curve of your butt. You could feel his warmth on your skin even through the material of your skirt, and it made your heart race even more. “So this is why you’ve been missing for a week? You couldn’t have just told me?” You asked, placing your forehead against his. 

He placed a soft kiss on your chin before saying, “I was scared, like I said, of what you’d think. I needed to think it through, you know? I couldn’t risk losing you as a friend. Then I saw you with Steve and I just… you know the rest.” 

You couldn’t resist teasing him for it, “You got jealous when you saw me hugging Steve, huh?” You asked, smirking. 

Bucky pulled you even closer, kissing down your chin as he said, “I did. And he’ll never touch you again.” 

You giggled uncontrollable as he kissed down your neck, playfully biting and nibbling on your skin. “Hey!” You exclaimed, contorting and laughing on his lap, “Okay, okay fine! No more hugging Steve.” 

Bucky pulled away to look at you, “I want you. I wanna be yours. I’ll be so good to you,” He whispered, one of his hands slipping under your shirt, gently caressing your skin. “I love you, I have since day one and I was just too dumb to see it.” Then he paused for a moment, and asked, “Do you? Love me?” 

You smiled, nuzzling his cheek as you said, “I’ve always loved you. I mean, we’ve been friends since day one. You’ve been my best friend for a couple of years now but it’s always felt like more. It’s always been comfortable and safe with you. You’ve just always felt like…” You trailed off, pulling away to look into his eyes, “Like…” 

“Home.” He finished your sentence, smiling up at you. “You feel like home too. And I’m so stupid for not saying it earlier. But I love you, so so much.” 

Your eyes watered again, “And I love you.” 

He smiled brighter than ever as you leaned in to kiss him. Both of his hands found their way under your shirt, pulling at the hem. You giggled into the kiss before pulling away to get rid of your jacket. You threw it somewhere in the backseat before leaning in to kiss Bucky again. Your hands slid into his hair, his hands inched up your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Given the lack of room for proper movement, and both of your desperation combined, you couldn’t bother taking your shirt off completely, you just lifted it up to your chin, bra and all, baring your breasts to him. The chill in the air made your nipples hard, but so did Bucky’s ravenous stare. 

He looked up at you to check in, briefly, before leaning in again and taking one of them in his warm mouth. He moaned, mouth wrapped around one of your tits. Your back arched, giggling and gasping as he teased you, tasted you like he’s been dying to this whole time. You found your hips moving against his, grinding against him. And that got him excited because he nibbled harder on your skin. 

You gasped, laughing as he sucked hungrily on your skin, moving up to your collar bones, down to your breasts and back up. Bucky chuckled when you tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth away from your skin. “What? Did I bite your pretty tits too hard, hmm?” 

You smiled, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. “Mhmm, stop teasing me.” You whispered, inching closer to him, grounding your hips against his. 

He smirked, looking down to where your skirt had inched up your legs, revealing your thighs, “Yeah? You just can’t wait, can you?” He teased. 

You playfully bit his lip, making him hiss in pain before he chuckled against your mouth. Then you remembered… “Did you really think I was mean when we first met?” You questioned, smirking down at him. 

He laughed, pushing his face against your bare chest and kissing the soft skin between your breasts. “Not mean just… yeah, you know what? You were mean.” He stated, finally looking up at you. “You remember how cold you were to me when I tried talking to you for orientation?” 

You let out a little laugh, “That’s because you were flirting with almost everyone! Besides, you were probably the prettiest boy I’d ever seen and you just came up to talk to me. Just like that, with no warning. I panicked.” You explained, remembering the day so vividly. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, smirking like the cocky little shit he was. “So you thought I was pretty?” 

You grabbed him by the chin and clarified, “No, I thought you were a shameless player.” 

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “Well, I’m not. A player, that is. I am, however, very shameless.” He whispered against your skin as his hands slipped under your skirt, his thumbs caressing your inner thighs - making you gasp and whimper quietly as his fingers teased you in between your legs through your underwear. 

“Bucky…” You whined as he leaned down to suck on your tits again, more greedy than earlier as he toyed with your wet folds and clit at the same time 

“Hmm,” He moaned, lips wrapped around your nipple. He released it with a ‘pop’. “I need you, baby. I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t-,” 

Before he could even finish his sentence, your impatient hands were at the zipper of his pants. You paused, fingers toying with the waistband of his underwear, you looked up to his eyes - quietly questioning. 

He gave you a lazy smile, eyes hooded with lust. “Go on, baby. Take it out, it’s all yours.” His voice was suddenly deeper than earlier. And only then did you realise that there was a light drizzle outside, which made the air even colder; making you crave his body heat even more. 

You lifted off of his lap at the same time as you both lowered his pants and underwear to free his erected cock. You whined breathlessly at the mere sight of it, and Bucky groaned impatiently as he grabbed your hips, pulled your thin underwear to the side and aligned his cock to your entrance before gently lowering you down on him. 

You moaned as you slid down his thick cock, his stare burning on your face as he thrust up into you, all the way in. “Fuck,” He swore, then leaned in to give you a wet, messy kiss. “You okay, baby? You need a moment?” 

You shook your head, no you didn’t need a moment. What you needed was more of him. “Just… move, please, you feel so good.” You whispered, kissing down his chin as he obeyed, and moved. 

You whined as he grabbed your hips and guided you up and down his cock, stretching you out in the process. You held onto his shoulders as you rode his cock, bouncing on it while you moaned for him, bending a little so as to not hit the roof of the car too hard. 

“Oh, Buck…” You felt him fill you up nicely each time, the pressure in between your legs getting hotter and hotter. 

Bucky threw his head back, grunting at how good you felt, “You had me daydreaming about this wet little cunt, you know?” He let out a strained moan, as he thrust into you over and over again, while also bringing you down on his cock each time with enough force to make your tits bounce. “I was thinking about all the ways I’d fill you up once you let me. If it were up to me, I’d always keep you full of me, full of my cock.” 

“Damn it, who knew you had such a filthy mouth?” You said, unable to hold back your moans when he placed his thumb over your clit and rubbed it gently, in time with his thrusts. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, and the feral look in them only made you clench harder around him. 

You bit your lip to hold back your moans as he thrust his hips up more into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came so close to coming undone for him. “Bucky…” 

“You’re gonna come for me, baby?” He asked, “You’re gonna come all over my cock, huh?” 

You answered after a loud whimper, “Yes… please, can I come?” 

He cupped your cheek and traced your mouth with his thumb, “Go on, baby. Come all over my cock. Come for me…” Your walls clenched violently around his cock. You came hard, whimpering and crying for him and gasping for breath. Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside you as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just rammed his cock in and out of you like an animal. 

You caught your breath, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. Your head rested on his shoulder as you tried to calm your racing heart. 

“Look at me, baby, look at me.” Bucky murmured, cupping your face in both of his hands as he examined your expression. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You gave him a satiated, lazy smile. “No, Buck. You didn’t hurt me.” You whispered, feeling his cock inside you still as his cum leaked out of you steadily. You chuckled and said, “We made a mess in your car.” You hid your face into the crook of his neck again. 

Bucky laughed, kissing your head as he said, “I hope you’re in the mood to make an even bigger mess in the backseat, baby.” 

[imdoingsortagay]

Chapter 2 - the car ride

Summary: Pepper tasks Maria with driving you home after a long night at the office as a part of her plan, What's the worst that could happen during your drive back?

Word count : 2.4 k

A/N:  after idk how long since i’ve posted the first chapter that i’m just getting to the second chapter !!!! i hope everyone loves this as much as i do 

You weren’t keeping track of how long you had been standing around waiting for the bodyguard to finish talking about their business. Too busy in your mind and thinking about what you have to do the next day to even notice when Maria had gotten out of Pepper’s office and making her way to where you are.

To say that Maria is excited about this would be an understatement. When she figured out she had a crush on her boss’ assistant, she knew that there would be no fucking chance of asking you out, the main one being that you would never want to date someone like maria. You both were opposites of each other but some part of her that was hoping it could happen, especially with this plan. 

Pepper was a smart lady, she knows that very much of Tony had chosen her to take over stark industries so he could do his own thing. She trusts her to make the plan but if something happens then she’ll have to make a backup plan of her own.

“ You ready for the ride honey ?” you hear Maria say to you and jump a bit as she took you out of your thoughts. Maria gives you a confused look and you just nod to avoid saying anything stupid and making a fool out of yourself. 

“ Okay then follow me to my car,” she says excitingly and you follow right behind her like a lost puppy. You both take about 10 minutes to get to the parking garage in silence, only making eyes with maria to make sure she somehow didn’t lose you. 

When you get to her car, you’re a bit surprised to see the type of car she’s driving. Not the cool, expensive black car that would match her vibe but a red BMW that looks to be kept in the best conditions. Most of your coworkers have what you consider to be some of the nicest cars you’ve ever laid your eyes on while you still choose to take public transit. 

“ I thought you’d have a cool black car, “ you say quietly in hopes of maria not being able to hear your comment but she gives you a surprised look. 

“ I did have a black car when I first started with Pepper but I had to let it go once I realized how much it took to maintain it and stuff,” Maria says as she walks to the passenger door to open the door for you. 

“ Why are you opening the door for me miss Hill?” you ask. She has to calm herself a bit at the way you innocently say her name but lucky for her you don’t notice it at all.

“ first of all, Maria is fine, and second of all it would be rude of me not to open the door for you, honey,” she says and smiles at you and you get in the car and maria swiftly closes the door and heads to the driver's seat while you buckle up and get ready for the ride to your place. 

She turns on the car, buckles up, and pulls out of the parking spot and the drive from the office to your apartment begins. After 5 minutes of you looking out the window, maria decides to start some small talk with you to avoid any silence in the moving car.

“ How are you liking the assistant job so far honey?” she asks you while she keeps her eyes on the road. 

“ Good so far, pepper has been super nice to me and I've managed to make some friends in the office,” you say to her and she gets curious at who those friends you made might be since you seem to always be around pepper for most of your time.

“ That’s good you're making friends, I feel like I don’t know much about you, honey, do you mind if I ask you questions?” Maria asks you. 

“ Sure why not? “ you say with some confidence to the woman to your right and maria flashes you a smile that calms you down. 

‘ God she’s pretty you say in your mind.

“ Question 1: do you like having a fun night or just staying at home y/n?” She asks you

“  At home, the calmer the better, “ you tell her. 

“ do you like being close with people, in an intimate way ? “ she says as she arrives at a red light, and your brain stops all of a sudden at the question she asked. 

Nobody you’ve met so far in life had asked you this question, maybe once when you were in your second year of college. 

Coming from the woman to your left it just sounds shocking coming from her. According to your work friend, She had a reputation for being a womanizer. You grew up always being told never to judge people until you got to know them, from the little interactions you’ve had with her, there was no way she was this womanizer that everyone was claiming she was. 

“ I mean “,  you start,“ for the most part I’ve only been with like 3 people in life so I don’t have much experience when it comes to that,” you tell her. Maria can see the blush starting to form on your face, happy that the plan both her and Pepper had developed in the office was working well. 

“ Oh? I assumed a pretty little thing like you would have all the boys lining up to date you and what not,” she says with curiosity, as she makes it yet again to a spot sign, checking the GPS to see that she’s got another 25 minutes till she gets to your place. 

“ Miss Hil- “ 

“ Call me Maria honey, promise you I’m not as scary as you think,” the brunette says and even gives you a wink, making you blush right away and that’s one point for Maria in making you blush. Something about the way she talked to you just now made you feel all good. 

 It’s a feeling you can’t describe too, how weird. Guess a quick internet search once you get back to your apartment will have to do

The thing that’s so surprising to her right now is the fact that you never realized how long the drive has been since the both of you have left the office, Pepper always talks about how smart and good of an assistant that you are, clearly she’s not seeing the smart side of you at the moment. It could be just the fact that you both got out of the office early and you might be thinking of sleep at the moment.

“ Okay,” you say,” Maria, not all the boys were lining up because they never interested me. Or the girls either in college because I was always too busy studying in my dorm while my friend was having sex like it’s no big deal and stuff.”

“ Not even one girl y/n?” She asks you. 

“  There was one, her name was Carol or Cara or something like that. We were going well for a while and she ended it because I was not up with her sex experience,” you say with quotation marks at the sex part. Someone at your age would have lost your virginity at this point but here you are. Struggling to find even someone to fuck in this big city with the lack of experience you have. 

So for now you just decided it would be better off to focus on your career, being that you have a good position here with Pepper and there’s no way you’d ever mess that up. You and the brunette sit in silence in the car, you looking outs the window while she continues to focus on the road, wondering what else to ask you next without coming off as weird. 

“ You ever date anyone Maria?” you ask with curiosity. Everyone in the office always seems to gossip about her love life and might as well ask since both of you are talking about it. 

“ I’m guessing you’ve heard all the dumb gossip in the office then pretty girl? “ she starts as she slowly makes her way to a red light and can very clearly see you blushing at the pet name. She didn’t even need to try with those to see what you like the most. Your tired brain doesn’t care too much about her seeing you blush but if you would have had more energy you would have tried to cover your blushing face.

“ So you wanna know ?” She asks you. 

And you nod. 

“ Well, I did a lot of experimenting in college because my friends knew where to get good and cheap alcohol. Means we threw a lot of parties at our place and I met plenty of women, Dated one of Pepper’s friends for a bit but it never worked out because of personal reasons. For the most part, it’s just been flings with people from the office or Tinder sex dates as well,” she tells you while quietly listening. 

“ Never knew that Maria,” you tell her, amazed but also more curious about her sexual endeavors. One side of you wants to ask her more to make time pass so you can get home to your comfy little apartment for some alone time and sleep but decided not to. Both of you again sit in silence as she continues to drive you to your apartment while she just wonders what to ask you next and what the fuck she’s even going to say to Pepper when she hears about the little information she got on you today. 

“ How many more minutes til my apartment Maria? I’ve had a busy day with Pepper and dealing with some of the idiots in the office,” you say as you check your phone and think hard about what time you left the office with the bodyguard.

“ Um from the looks of it, should be another 10 minutes or so til I drop you off pretty girl,” she tells you and uses that pet name yet again. Makes you blush again and this time you can see that Maria looked at you, well it was gonna happen at some point. 

“ You always call every girl who comes in your car a pretty name Maria ? or is it just for me ?” you ask and it would be a big lie for the brunette to your left to say she’s shocked. 

“ I mean not every person but just now I’m being honest y/n, trust me,” she tells you and leaves it at that. 10 minutes go by quickly and you are happy to be at your apartment complex so that you can head up and sleep to get ready for the next day. God knows you’ll be needing so much energy with the amount of meeting that Miss Potts has on her schedule, which should be super fun ( sarcasm). 

Maria luckily finds a parking spot close to the entrance of the building and gets to it before anyone else, just because she doesn’t want you getting in any danger on her watch, cause if Pepper found out you did then she’d be in such huge trouble.

While you collect all of your things with you to leave her car you fail to notice the quickness of the bodyguard to get to the other side of the car so she can open the door for you. Too embarrassed to say anything you get out of her car with the woman who’s smiling at you and you think a bit before deciding to speak. 

“ Thanks so much for the ride Maria,” you say as you look inside your purse to hand her some cash or gas but the brunette stops you in time, grabbing your hand to prevent it from even looking around. The lights from the inside of your building don’t seem to help you at all in this situation as Maria still seems to be just holding your hands while looking at your face as if it was an art piece in a museum which again like in the car makes you blush like crazy. 

“ Has anyone ever told you that you are the prettiest person ever y/n? I just wanted to say that,” she says and you are not, too scared to say anything and embarrass yourself in front of her being that she is your coworker and the close bodyguard of your boss. 

“ he hi uh yeah thank you,” you tell her awkwardly and mentally hit yourself for how dumb you must look. You check your phone again to see the time, realizing that you should probably be heading up to your place to get enough sleep for tomorrow. 

“ I have to head back to my place, “ you tell her and you both say your goodbyes before quickly making your apartment so unwind, maybe also try to forget whatever the fuck just happened. Maria waits a couple of seconds for you to be away from her view to head back to her car and head back to the office herself so that she can give the updates on her boss. 

Maria was a bit unsure of driving you home since she didn’t know if you would be quiet for most of it but she’s content now the less that she was able to get more information on you. Now Maria can’t wait until she’s able to do something like this again or even try to spend some time alone at work. 

On the other side of town Pepper wonder if all of this , getting to you , is even a good idea, to begin with. The Blonde has some hope for her trusted bodyguard but is unsure if she can easily get any information out of you, being that you do seem to speak when spoken so. She could even have one of Tony's many personal investigators find info on you as well but she decided on her most trusted employee besides you. Right as she’s about to pack up everything for the day so she can head back to her condo a message appears on her phone. 

Miss Hill: Got some information on y/n, not much but it’s still something.

Pepper: Good job, we can discuss more of this tomorrow, just head back home Hill and i’ll have one of the other guards accompany home x 

With this, Pepper prepares to get all of her things so that she can relax the rest of the night and prepare for the next day.

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Overtime Au Taglist : @setsuna1415 @starrknessblog @an-evergreen-rose

[erythrum]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘱𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 | 𝘑𝘑 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘹 𝘱𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢,𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦,𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴,𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵,𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵,𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘢,𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 (𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦&𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬)

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 @outcrbcnks ,𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 :)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.3𝘬+,𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺/𝘯, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰

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Find the gun, find the gun y/n. It was all I could do to keep me calm down in the sewer, the disgusting sewage the covered my body in a thin layer made me nauseated. Kiara was ahead of me leading the way down the tunnel. The light of the drain was coming in to view. Almost there.

"Kie, I think I might throw up," the smell was making me gag.

"God this is fucking awful, why did we let them convince us to do this?”

“If you remember correctly, we are trying to find a damn murder weapon,” I might have said that a bit too demeaningly, but to be fair, I couldn’t ignore the way my boyfriend looked at her. The hardest part was pretending like I didn’t know what was going on.

“Whatever, let's just find this damn thing and get out of here,” Kiara said.

We eventually found our way to where the sewer met the storm drain on the street above. Searching felt like a waste of time, I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to get involved in this bullshit, but I guess dating JJ came with its ‘perks’. Which happened to include searching for a fucking murder weapon at the bottom of a sewer.

I dragged my hands as deep as I could under the nasty water, trying my hardest to keep my head above water.

“People are so shitty,” Kiara said, disgusted by the trash that easily could’ve been recycled sitting at the bottom of the basin.

“Guys! I think I found something,” she held up something that was definitely not a gun, something dead. It elicited a yelp from her throat, definitely not good.

“Is it Gavin? Is it a body?” The sound of JJ emanated through the drain. That was when I heard the water coming.

“Kie, somethings wrong,” she was so caught up on the poor animal she failed to notice the water beginning to flood in.

“Oh shit!” She was starting to panic. Not good not good not good.

“Guys get out of there!” The voices of JJ and Pope slowly being drowned out by the rising water.

Kiara began climbing up the ladder leading to the drain on the street. Adrenaline was coursing through my body as I climbed behind her, the water closing in on me.

“Push Kie!”

“I am y/n, it's too heavy,” the drain was our only escape now. The water was at my chest, inching closer and closer to my neck. The adrenaline made my body act on instinct, but I also couldn’t keep myself calm. It felt like my body was numb as I tried to pull myself up the ladder, closer to Kiara.

I couldn’t keep my head above water now as it rose up above my head. I took the largest breath I’ve ever taken in my life and prayed that JJ and Pope would come lift the drain. Struggling for air was the worst experience I’d ever felt, I couldn’t hold it any longer. The water filled my lungs, it went black after that.

The boys were pulling as hard as they could on the drain. The combined strength of the two alone just wasn’t enough. But someone else had heard the screams of the two girls and came barreling down the street to help.

Pope had a look of horror on his face as Rafe Cameron himself began pulling on the drain as well. The three of them together much more easily pulling the manhole off and onto the street. Water came flooding out as JJ pulled Kiara out, she was sputtering the disgusting muck out of her lungs, begging for air.

“Kie, Kie! Are you alright?” JJ asked.

“She’s still down there,” she struggled to get out, still filling her lungs with clean air.

Rafe was in panic mode, he nearly dove into the water, reaching his torso as far down as he could. He had to find her. He had too. Rafe's head below the water and into the drain, reaching out for her. After what felt like hours, he felt something, grasping on with all his strength and pulling her body out of the sewer.

"Fuck, Pope! She's not breathing, Pope, I swear to god you better know CPR," Kiara was screaming, still in the arms of JJ.

Rafe began pumping his fists down on her sternum in a steady rhythm. All hell broke loose when he plugged are nose and connected his mouth to hers, blowing air into her water filled lungs.

"What the fuck are you doing!" JJ viciously pulled Rafe from her body, throwing him back onto the concrete.

"Saving her fucking life asshole," Rafe pulled himself back up, rushing back over her and continuing to do what her boyfriend could not. He pushed another breath into her lungs, pleading with himself that she would survive.

That was when y/n began coughing up the sludge lodged in her lungs. She was nearly throwing up her lungs as Rafe stared at her, a look of relief washed over his face. He was the first thing she saw when she came to. Then she saw JJ, clinging onto Kiara in a way she'd always knew would happen.

"Y/n! Fuck I'm glad you're oka-," JJ tried reaching out for her.

"Get the fuck off of me JJ," y/n pushed him back, disgusted yet not surprised by his actions. She had just been brought back from the dead and it felt like he didn't even care. The one person who did care was supposed to be her mortal enemy. A million thoughts were trying to process in her head all at once. Having no idea what to do, she picked herself up and began walking as fast as she could away from the group. On her heels was that same kook, the one she hated, the one she couldn't keep off her mind, the one who ruined her life, the one who saved her.

Y/n only made it 30 feet before hunching over and resting her hands on her knees as she heaved onto the sidewalk. Rafe had chased after her, now pulling the drenched hair from around her face. Once she had emptied her lungs of the filth, she only had one thing to say.

“Get the fuck away from me Rafe,” she said, still hunched over. He stood in shock, not knowing what to do next.

"At least let me take you home, for the love of God I literally just pulled you out of a sewer." She hesitated for awhile, finally recognized the car she had been throwing up next too. It was Rafe's truck.

The truck was filled with nothing but silence as they drove, y/n ignoring every word Rafe said. They had been driving in a giant circle around the island with no destination for hours. Finally Rafe pulled over on the side of the road, hazard lights on.

"Listen, y/n, we can't stay in the car all night, and it seems to me like you don't want to go home, I can take you back to Tannyhill, you can take a shower and get cleaned up, we have a guest room, stay the night if you'd like," Rafe said, hoping she would say yes. Y/n let out a deep sigh before speaking.

"Fine," it was all she could muster up. Her heart was hurting. Y/n had come to the realization that her boyfriend instinctually went for Kiara, and that she would always be his second choice. She never wanted to be a second choice, she wanted to be the only choice.

His house was enormous, probably bigger than any she had seen on figure eight. Rafe hopped out of the truck, racing over to the passenger side door to let her out. He led her into the massive home, before arriving at the guest room.

"There's a bathroom through that door, I'll bring you some clothes to wear," he said. She barely let him finish before bolting towards the bathroom door, locking herself in. She laid her back against the door, wondering how in the world she ended up here. It took a moment to take in the beauty a bathroom could hold. She'd never seen anything like it. Marble floors and brilliant gold detailed fixtures. It was easily the nicest thing she had ever seen. Finally, she reached her hand to the shower faucet, turning on a beautiful cascade of water. There was nobody in the world she believed needed something so fancy. Y/n stripped out of her muck caked clothing, tossing it onto those beautiful floors. Stepping into the waterfall was exactly what she needed.

Meanwhile, Rafe ran upstairs, grabbing whatever he could out of Sarah's closet. He ran over and over again in his head what to do next as he raced back down to the guest room. Leave the clothes next to the door? Wait for her to come out of the shower? Before he had a chance to decide, y/n came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. Rafe had a look of shock in his eyes, he never thought he'd see the girl he couldn't keep off his mind here, in his home.

Rafe stuck his arm out, holding the clothes just in front of her. She looked Rafe up and down before gently reaching out for the clothing.

"Thanks," that was all she said before turning around and locking herself in the bathroom again. Y/n struggled to hold her tears in, knowing what she would have to face in the morning. It wasn't an easy decision, but it needed to be done.

It was possibly the best sleep she had ever gotten. The satin pillowcases soft against her cheeks as she slept, the warm comforter encasing her. No interruptions or pogues banging on her bedroom door for her to wake up. Just peaceful sleep.

Y/n laid awake in the bed, sunrise creeping through the curtains, dreading the next few hours. She left the massive home as soon as possible, sneaking out at daybreak, making the nearly hour long walk back to the cut.

Rafe found no trace of her left behind, everything was in its place just as it had been before y/n occupied the room. She couldn't have gotten far.

He caught up to her in his truck, she had only made it maybe a quarter of the way to her destination. Wearing Sarah's clothes he had lent her, she fit right into the neighborhood. She kept her head held high and determined to ignore him.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?"

"Fuck off Rafe," she shoved her middle finger towards his window as he drove along side her.

"So I save your life, let you sleep at my house, lend you Sarah's clothes, and now I can't offer you a ride?"

"Correct, I don't need your help, the only thing I know you to be good for is hookups and rebounds," she said rather matter of factly. He couldn’t lie to himself, hearing her say that made his heart hurt a little bit.

“Whatever, there's a party at Topper’s tomorrow night if you’re interested, but I’ll go ahead and guess your answer is a no,”

Y/n stopped in her tracks, causing Rafe to slam down on his breaks. She finally turned to look at him, a smile growing on her face.

“You’re absolutely whipped.”

Rafe hesitated before driving off, this girl left his head spinning in circles.

Once she reached the cut, y/n made a B-line for the chateau. Finding the rest of the pogues wasn’t hard, they were usually out back up to whatever shenanigans they had planned. JJ especially came up with bad ideas, somehow convincing the rest of the group that they would work. Y/n rested her body against a doorway, finally making eye contact with JJ, then nodding her head back gesturing for him to follow.

They creeped back towards the front of the shack, still trashed from the hurricane.

“Jesus, where were you y/n? I was worried sick that fucking kook hurt you,” JJ hugged her, squeezing as tight as he could. When she didn’t return the enthusiasm, he knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Listen JJ, this, us, it’s not going to work,”

“What the hell are you tal-,”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about JJ, I've seen the way you’ve looked at her for months, you’re always going to choose Kiara over me, always. I am not a second choice. I know what I saw.”

“Did that kook get into your head or something?” She was sure the others could hear them now.

“It’s not about that JJ, I was fucking drowning and you didn’t even try to help me, I’d probably be dead right now if it wasn’t for him!”

“Oh so it is about him huh? Did you have fun last night curled up in figure eight? Wait wait, I see, he didn’t get into your head, he got into your pants instead didn’t he?” Y/n didn’t know how else to react, slapping him square across his face.

“Don’t you dare, fucking accuse me of that, or I swear to God JJ,” she could barely hold back the anger boiling her blood right now.

“Its over. Done. Have a nice life.” Y/n ran as fast as she could out of the chateau, tears pooling in her eyes, looking for any escape.

The next 36 hours were a daze, and before y/n knew it, she was getting ready for a kook party. What does a girl even wear to a kook party? A nice sundress? Little black skirt and a crop top? How fancy is this supposed to be? In the end she decided to wear a sleek black dress, knowing she would stick out like a sore thumb, regardless of what she wore. Being likely the only pogue in the middle of hundreds of kook's, it wouldn't matter.

Meanwhile, Rafe was already at Topper's house, making preparations for the oncoming chaos.

"Boys, if you see a little y/h/c pogue try to walk in here, let her in," Rafe said, handing each a $100 bill. The two door boys nodded their heads in understanding.

The easiest part was over, now y/n just had to get there. She didn't even know where Topper lived, well, figure eight obviously, but where? Actually, that's a stupid question, just follow all the BMW's and audi's driven by reckless teenagers.

Y/n knew something was off when the two kids stationed at the door let her through without question. Fucking Rafe. He was surely already here, and she was questioning what in the world led her to make the decision to come here tonight.

Rafe found her in the kitchen, downing shots of tequila.

"Didn't expect to see you here y/n," he slid next to her, pouring himself a shot as well.

"Didn't think I'd be here either, I have much better things I could be doing right now," she snickered back.

"So how'd it go when you got back to the cut?" Rafe asked, knowing something had changed.

"Well, I dumped JJ, so I am officially a free woman," she said, downing her next shot.

"And you're taking it well, obviously," he laughed, smiling as he watched her take the shot with ease. In true y/n fashion, she flipped him off before grabbing the bottle of tequila and disappearing into the house. He watched the way her dress clung to her hips as she moved, now more than ever aware of the ache he felt.

Only fifteen minutes had passed before Rafe went looking for her. Searching through crowds and empty rooms, finally finding a door on the second floor that was cracked open. Not locked out, but not to be unfound. He poked his head through the door, not seeing much at first, until his eyes landed on an open window. The cool breeze of the ocean drifted into the room. He climbed through the window and out onto a small section of the roof overlooking the backyard.

As soon as she saw him, she knew there was no escape.

“Ugh,” y/n rolled her eyes, taking another drink from the bottle she had smuggled.

“Excited to see me?” Rafe said as he settled onto the roof.

"How did you guess?"

"Just the fact that you even showed up, your actions speak for themselves," he said rather confidently.

"Do they now? Because it seems to me like you're the one who is stalking me," she let out a giggle.

"Well, I still need Sarah's clothes back,"

Y/n shoved his shoulder, the both of them laughing as she did.

"Mhm, I don't know, I think I look pretty good dressed in kook," y/n passed him the bottle now, he accepted her offer. He had to think long and hard about what to say next, his heart beating relentlessly in his chest.

"More than pretty good," there was a silence between the two, both reading into what he said.

"Y'know, I don't even know who I am anymore."

"And by that you mean?" Rafe asked.

"On this island, it's always kooks or pogues, no in-between, and I thought I was a pogue for the longest time, but I never quite, I don't know, fit in? It sounds fucking stupid, forget it."

"No no, it's not, I feel like we're actually having a conversation, not just bickering at each other, and it's, it's nice," his voice was becoming shaky now. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I think I'm just in a rut, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself. All I ever did was for JJ, I gave him everything,” he understood the magnitude of what she had given him.

“And now that we've broken up, I have this new freedom that I don't know what to do with, it was the first relationship I'd ever been in, and at this point I don't even remember how to be single. I hate to say it, but I feel like he took everything I gave him for granted."

Rafe smirked at his thoughts, knowing exactly what she needed.

"Oh what's so funny?” She said.

“You desperately need a rebound.”

“I do not!”

“You do, and I know the perfect guy for the job.”

“And who would that be exactly?” Their witty banter had turned to flirtation, and they were now physically closer than ever. Rafe had his hand cupping the side of her head, fingers tangled in her hair, leaning in closer to her. Her breathing has quickened as his face came closer to hers, knowing what he was insinuating.

The connection of their lips sent shockwaves through her body. It was the first thing in a long time that felt like it made sense. They disconnected for a moment, staring longingly into each others eyes for permission. A sense of understanding overcame them as their lips smashed together once again. Rafe's hand moved lower down to her neck, tracing his thumb to the other side and giving a light squeeze.

"Rafe I, don't get me wrong, I want this, but I don't think it's a good idea right now."

"You're right," he whispered as a whirring noise approached in the distance.

It was maybe thirty minutes past 11, the sound of an approaching boat caught their attention. They both looked at the boat coming to dock on the Thornton's boat dock. Rafe and y/n climbed back into the home, recognizing the boat pulling up to the dock. Rafe raced out the back door, y/n steps ahead of him as anger and adrenaline rushed through her body. She ran down the dock, ready to fight the boy hopping off of the boat.

"JJ, please explain to me why the fuck you are here right now, and it better be a good reason or I swea-,"

"Y/n please, I just need to talk to you okay? I've been thinking about the other day and I just needed to-,"

"Not good enough JJ, you had your fucking chance, got it? I never want to see you again," she had tears of anger streaming down her face, that was when Rafe lodged himself between the argument.

"You heard her pogue," Rafe said threateningly.

"What are you gonna do about it huh?" JJ pushed his hands against Rafe, knocking him back only slightly, Rafe stood solid.

"What am I gonna do?" Rafe shoved him back with all his strength, knocking JJ onto his back.

"I'm only going to say this one time for you," Rafe crouched down, grabbing fistfuls of JJ's shirt.

"Stay," he landed to first punch.

"The fuck," and the second.

"Away from her," finally the third, then forcing him back onto the ground in a sheer competition of dominance. Crowds had gathered around the commotion, watching the kook and pogue battle it out. Y/n felt a sense of relief, someone had finally chosen her.

"You already fucked her didn't you?" JJ struggled to spit out, coughing on the blood lodged in his mouth. Rafe promptly pulled JJ up by his shirt, making sure to look right into his eyes as he made his next threat.

"Stay off figure eight, or so help me God JJ, I will kill you." Rafe tossed the boy back onto the ground, watching as he struggled to pull himself back to his boat.

"Show's over everyone! Get out!" Rafe said, the crowd watching dispersed over fences and into cars, not wanting to face the same fate.

She was the only one who didn't leave. Y/n watched as he came closer to her, pulling her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry y/n, that asshole deserved it,"

"Thank you," her tears were staining his polo as they held each other.

"Also, neither of us are in any shape to drive, so what's the plan?" She asked.

They made the short walk back to Tannyhill, ending up in the same rooms they had been in the day everything changed. When morning came she stayed in her bed, enjoying the comfort she felt in this home. The sudden knock on her door awoke her from her daze.

"Hey, I uh, brought breakfast," Rafe said, holding up the bag of breakfast burritos. Y/n patted the empty place on her bed, inviting him to sit down. They sat and ate in silence, unsure of what to say to one another. Once finished, she ended up snuggling her head into the crook of his neck, arm tossed across his abdomen. Rafe wrapped his arm around her and they stayed there for awhile, simply enjoying each others presence.

Rafe placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, rubbing his thumb across her shoulder at the same time. Y/n looked up at him from her spot on his chest, moving herself up so their lips connected. The kiss was just as good as she had remembered. Rafe began deepening their kiss, pulling her in by the waist with his free hand.

I had woken up. For the first time in a long time I felt it. How it felt to be the only choice for someone, to be at the top of someone's priorities. Feeling his hand pull my waist into his sent lightning through my body, and I've never wanted anything more in my life than right now. I threw my right leg over his hips, anticipating to climb on top of him. I brought my hand up to the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair.

"Think it's a good idea?" Rafe asked.

I simply nodded my head in response, bringing my mouth back to his. His hands began tracing further down my body, grabbing at my hips as he pulled me in closer. I got the message. I threw myself over him, sitting perfectly in his lap, hair hanging almost in his face. We reconnected and the speed at which we kissed quickened. My arms had snaked behind his neck, my entire body resting on his, legs straddled across his lap.

He was surprised when I removed my mouth from his, only to begin trailing kisses down his neck, towards the collar of his polo. He sat up, leaving room for him to pull his shirt up and over his head. I pushed him back down into the bed as I trailed lower and lower. Reaching the spot I needed most, I unbuttoned his pants, pulling them as far down as I could. He was already hard, clearly anticipating this when he walked into the room an hour ago.

I began leaving kisses down his clothed dick, teasing the throb. But I myself was too in-need to tease for long. I pulled his boxers down, revealing the eager member. Wrapping my hand around him, I pumped it a few times, leaving light kisses all around him. The taste of him spread in my mouth as I took him in. His hands pulled my hair back as I sucked on him, the pace of his breathing becoming more of a pant. One of my hands grasped onto his hips as the other pumped him in sync with my lips.

A shock ran through my body as he flipped me over on the bed. Rafe nearly ripped my shirt in half when pulling it over my head. He sat over me for a moment, taking in the sight of me like he'd been waiting to for so long. Just after, his hands came to either side of my head, propping himself up as he began kissing down my neck, surely leaving bruises. Moving lower to my breasts, he continued, tugging and pulling at the straps of my bra. He was now resting his entire body on me, his elbows at my sides as he started massaging my breasts through the fabric.

"You can take it off, you know," I said.

That was all he needed to hook his hand underneath me, tugging at the clip holding me together. Rafe popped it off with ease, not that I was surprised. His mouth attached itself to one of my nipples, teasing it with his tongue. The cool air hitting the wet spot he left behind causing me to gasp. Meanwhile, he had been rolling the other between his fingers, sending arousal between my thighs. The sensitivity rolling between my hips was begging for more.

Rafe's hands began trailing lower down my body, his mouth not far behind. The ache in my core was growing more and more with every inch he passed, until finally I felt a finger graze over my shorts.

"These need to come off," it was more of a question than a statement.

I nodded, because I needed more. He slid the shorts off of my legs, tossing them onto the ground, leaving my panties on full display for him. Then his mouth moved to my thighs, starting closer to my knees, slowly moving in towards my center. I could feel every breath he made against me, and knew he was just as in-need as I was. It felt like ages before he finally made contact with my core. His lips left kisses over my clothed clit, at this point I was begging for more.

He knew too, knew how much I needed him right now. The wetness soaking through my underwear as he played with me through them, thumb massaging little circles around my clit. My legs shuddered as he did, needing to desperately to be released. His fingers latched underneath the waistline of the fabric, and he pulled them all the way down my legs, exposing every inch of myself, and discarding them on the floor.

I was absolutely soaked, and he had barely even touched me. I could barely imagine what I’d be like once he had. When his fingers finally returned, I was a mess. He was eager too, not even waiting because I was already ready for him. His middle and ring finger teased my entrance, before plunging deep into me. The gasp that came out of my mouth was the loudest I’d ever had, causing my hand to close over my mouth in response. But Rafe didn't care how loud we got as his mouth came down to me, his tongue flicking at my clit, fingers beginning to thrust in and out.

My hips were rolling, legs shaking as the combination of his mouth and fingers pushed me closer and closer to the edge. Whimpers came out as his free hand was grasping onto my stomach, thumb tracing circles below my navel. I tugged at the sheets around me, needing some sort of grounding as he continued fucking me with his fingers. My pussy was aching for more, begging for something bigger to ease the ache.

"Rafe, I need you inside, like right now," I struggled to get the words out. But he wouldn't let up, he was determined. His fingers were moving faster and faster and his mouth was lapping at the wetness of my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore, and my legs closed around his head, squeezing as I came.

I barely had time to recover before Rafe was on top of me, lining his cock up with my entrance, then pushing himself all the way into me. My walls clenched around him as I tried to adjust to his length, but he wasn't waiting. Slowly he began thrusting in and out, plunging himself deeper each time. He reached down to kiss me as he pounded me, hand wrapping around my neck and squeezing.

"Fuck," I squeaked out.

It only got better when he threw my legs over his shoulders, they were nearly at my chest. He pounded into me at a hard but steady pace, and it was driving me to the edge once again. The whimpers coming from me were more than enough to tell him to keep going.

"You like that princess?"

"God, yes Rafe, harder," I pleaded.

He listened, but it was taking a toll on him, his breathing was now broken and unsteady as he thrusted. I could feel his body beginning to tense up on top of me, he was getting close. It was my turn now.

I used all of my strength to flip him onto his back, my legs on either side of him as I began riding him. Rafe's hands came around to my ass as I repeatedly moved up and down on him. Then I laid down on him, arms behind his neck for support as his arms held onto my waist tightly. Rafe propped his legs up for support and began thrusting into me harder than he ever has. The feeling of my walls clenching around him as he pumped into me, using me as a toy.

"Cum in me Rafe, please," but it wasn't a question. I nearly screamed as he released inside of me at the same time I came. We stayed that way for a few moments, simply taking one another in as our breathing steadied.

Finally, I slid off of him, releasing the tension of him inside of me. I could feel his cum leaking out of me as I laid on top of him. I could go to sleep right here if I wanted to. His hand laced into my hair, playing with the ends of it.

"I still need Sarah's clothes back," he laughed.

"Don't think so, consider it the start of my kook wardrobe,"

"To going full kook?" he asked.

"To going full kook."

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

[dadsbongos]

Hi, sorry I know this may be a strange ask but if you want could I ask for a Mistsuki Bakugou x daughter reader. Where reader rips into her about how broken Katsuki is and how he feels like he will never be good enough and how she’s not helping the situation by berating him and calling him weak. Sorry if it seems odd I would just like some angst :) enjoy your day/night.

not a strange ask at all nonny, i quite enjoyed it actually :) and thank you, i hope you also have a nice day/night

also i know you said angst but it kinda turned into angst -> fluff :( oops

Request for: Katsuki Bakugou (Platonic) Warnings: Mitsuki’s insulting of katsuki :(, not proofread Word Count: 725 ~~~

Mitsuki’s making dinner when she says it,

“If you weren’t so weak, you never would’ve gotten caught and caused all that trouble!”

You knew what your mom meant to do, and you knew she wasn’t a horrible person, but the way she went about it left a sour taste on your tongue. Katsuki spent his entire life being praised - she just wanted to release some of the arrogance within him, but her method was bitter.

Katsuki wouldn’t give a physical reaction to those words anymore, as though he’d accepted them as true.

And maybe he had.

It made you think about each night that Katsuki would come to your room, lip trembling and lashes barely containing the tears ready to burst. He was shaky and hesitant and his hands would pull at his hair while he spoke of his fears coming to fruition. That Izuku - Deku - was catching up. Deku would surpass him and he was standing still. Deku, the weak nerd from their childhood, was going to be stronger and faster and smarter and better - better - than he was. And he wasn’t advancing at all. He’d cry. Bakugou, Katsuki - your baby brother - would cry in your arms, too scared to talk to your parents out of fear that his own mother would only mock these fears.

Heartbreak was a light case for what you’d experience as you held your sobbing little brother.

“He isn’t weak,” you’d never stood up for him until now and you know you’ll regret not doing it sooner. You already do. You wish you’d stopped her the first time.

Katsuki raises his head at your words, brows furrowed as if that would get you to stop talking.

“Well, yeah, he has a strong quirk but still,” your mother shakes her head, “It’s his fault…”

“It’s never anybody’s fault they get kidnapped and putting them down for it is fucking evil,” you walk towards your mother, “Suggesting that your own son wasn’t strong enough and that’s why he was taken it- it- “

“It what?” she challenges, narrowing her eyes at you.

“It makes you a bad mom, let alone person.”

“Oh, so I’m just the worst mother ever, aren’t I? I fed, clothed, and housed you and I’m just awful for that!”

Before Katsuki can jump in and stop you from going on, you nod and grab your car keys from the counter.

“Yeah, doing the bare minimum doesn’t make you a great parent. You don’t get to have kids, care for them, and then mock them for being ‘weak’ and still play the victim card,” you stare at your mother, “Katsuki deserves better than this.”

As you walk away, you pull your brother by his shirt so he follows you out to your car.

“You come back here right now!”

You don’t come back.

You take Katsuki out to a drive thru for dinner.

“Sorry for never saying anything earlier.”

“‘s fuckin’ fine. I didn’t ask you to say anything.”

“But I should’ve. You’re my little brother, Katsuki. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“I’m sixteen. I can take care of my damn self.”

“But I should look out for you.”

He doesn’t respond, merely continues to eat in the passenger seat, checking the clock every few minutes. As if it would magically take you both home and avoid Mitsuki’s wrath.

But he knows better.

Nothing can get you out of Mitsuki’s anger.

“The hag’ll be pissed.”

“Then we’ll wait her out.”

Katsuki gives you a quizzical stare, “We can’t just stay out all fuckin’ night,” he glances at the clock, “I have to go to fuckin’ bed some time.”

“Oh my God, we get it, you go to bed at 8:30,” you roll your eyes, “You’re a toddler.”

“I’m not a toddler, I’m responsible.”

“Hm, Dad’s responsible and he goes to bed at ten.”

“Well, when I’m fucking well-fucking-rested and you’re an exhausted asshole, don’t whine to me.”

“Okay, toddler.”

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you,” he huffs.

You know it’s a meaningless, empty threat. It’s Katsuki’s way of joking, morbid and violent as it is. But banter with Katsuki means you at least succeeded in getting his mind to stray from Mitsuki’s words. Because he didn’t deserve that. He was a kid that needed maturing, but he wasn’t a villain.

He wasn’t weak.

[gaiuswrites]

Ashore

Part one | Open Waters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie leave the beach with only one thing on your minds.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k~

Warnings/tags: smut, ✨butt stuff✨, oral (f receiving), some lovey-dovey shit

Notes: Here we are friends. You don’t necessarily have to read Open Waters to understand the contents of this chapter (considering it’s mostly just booty bumpin’). You can thank heathens @javierpcna and @whataperfectwasteoftime for the debauchery to follow. It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m genuinely nervous to post this lol but alas. We have arrived. Is it shit? Is it pure filth? Who’s to say hehehe. Cheers bebes x

Masterlist | read it on ao3!

The worst part was, you had to get gas.

Frankie drives. You sit beside him.

The return trip is hushed with anticipation—with sullied stain-glass imagery occupying the void. You've said next to nothing since you packed into the car; the only noise comes from the radio—the preset station phasing in and out as you wind along the backroads leading away from the shore—Journey, Jimi, Led Zep and the like all crackling dry through the speakers.

Everything, each micro-movement, feels stifling— like burning ants under a magnifying glass— each gesture riddled with intention, Frankie’s words echoing clear in the caverns of your mind.

He glances left right at an intersection.

‘Anything?’

He flips on the turn signal, blinking one two one two one two.

‘You gonna let me have your tight little ass?’

He steers the wheel with the heel of his palm.

‘When I cum, it’s gonna be here—filling you up.’

The engine rumbles as you idle at a red light—stalling. Dawdling. The sun spills lazily from the horizon, draining the last of the afternoon’s light with it, bleeding the sky scarlet—emboldening the horizon— and you watch as the setting glow catches the hair on his arm—there, resting on the console between you. His hand fists over the gear, knuckles creasing as they tense around the worn, leathered head. You’re playing a game—a silent, ruleless game. You know he can sense you observing him, can feel the heat of your gaze weigh on the flex of his fingers—the same fingers that had ripped an orgasm out of you not two hours before.

You almost unbuckle your damn seatbelt and fly out of your chair. You nearly break with it, with the unspoken tension filling the car like gas and fuck, how you crave him; how you yearn to put those fingers in your mouth and suck—lave the summer clean off his digits and bob around the long width and—

The light turns green.

Frankie resumes his hand to the wheel, your lewd fantasy dissipating along with it.

It’s minuscule. You would have missed it save the fact that you’re so acutely aware of every fucking breath you two share in the aluminum confines of your old Jeep. It’s a subtle thing: Frankie adjusts his hips— innocent enough— but your eyes flicker over to find the groin of his drying swim trunks tented.

You’re not ashamed to say it— your mouth fucking waters, you salivate— and as if on cue, he squirms again, seeking relief from both the blood rushing south and the blister of your stare. His lips part— the rasp of an inhale as he prepares to speak—before his focus is torn down to the dashboard, an orange symbol popping up in the gauge stealing his attention.

“Shit,” Frankie mumbles under his breath. Looking around, he scans for a nearby station and groans at the realization that he’s just passed one, spotting it in the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

You swivel towards the passenger side window, attempting to hide the I told you so expression pulling wry at your mouth. Not that you’ll hang it over him, but you did inform Frankie that the tank was empty on the way to the beach. You hear another muffled curse come from the man beside you, and the world goes topsy-turvy and reverses itself— the act of Frankie making a grumbled U-turn.

He puts the gear into park with a huff, Van Halen’s solo abruptly cut short mid chord.

The car door opens with a rusty squeal and Frankie clambers out, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his card through the reader at the pump—but not before he squeezes a palm into the plush of your thigh, thumb searing like a brand into your skin. I’ll be quick.

Fuck, you could have cum right then.

Your gaze follows his movements, dogging after him as he waits on the gas to fill— arms folded across his chest, strong build leaning on the frame of your car.

It’s not a novel concept to you, but God is that man broad. The ratty t-shirt he wears clings to him, pulled taut between the plane of his shoulders, the cut of his tricep apparent even from your vantage point; the corded muscle running up his neck flashing as he watches the digital numbers on the screen tick higher.

Shit, you’re aching for him— you can feel yourself throb into the crotch of your swimsuit. You’d have him right here—in the backseat, steaming up the glass— if it weren’t for the overencumbered bags and rickety beach chairs crowding the space.

With herculean effort, you wrench your eyes off him in search of a distraction, letting them drift to the dark flooring of the car. It’s been dirtied—white flecks speckling the interior—and you won’t be able to get the sand out of the matted carpets for weeks. It’s a nuisance, to be sure, but you have to admit that you’re sort of fond of it; little memories, vestiges in the grains, lingering long after the season ends.

Hello, remember me? each granule chirped, remember when we laughed giddy for hours, maddened by the grace of the sun? Remember when we burned red that time we forgot sunscreen? Remember when we bought soft serve from the surf shack and it globbed sticky down our wrists? Remember when we when we when when when…

Frankie, ever practical, hates it. It’s a pain in the ass, he’s told you, regaling you with the woes only a mechanic would care to know. It ruins the upholstery.

You’ve had your exchanges about the topic—your faux-squabbled back and forths—and yet despite himself, he can’t help but like that you like it. Conceptually, he gets it—it annoys him to kingdom fucking come and he’ll almost certainly take the vacuum to the mats first thing tomorrow, but he understands. He understands it.

He understands you.

You’re like that, you and him. You’re different. You are made of different things, a compository of fractures and fragments. Mosaic tiles. You don’t quite fit—not all of you—but you never force the pieces into any sort of place. You admire each other’s mismatched bits, those sweetly quilted jigsaws, and you hold each one up to the light and point at the unique curves, the notches and swoops there, and say I love you, I love this, I love this too.

When Frankie keys up the ignition and puts the car in drive, he keeps his hand on your lap. Arm resting over the median dividing you, calloused palm sealing over your quad, his fingertips knead a pulse into the meat of your leg with each bump in the poorly paved road— a reminder. A vow. Almost home.

You think he does it just to torture you.

It fucking works.

/

The sound of laughter parts the front door as you enter— Frankie had made some colorful comment about your absolute favorite neighbors, the ones who always leave their damn garbage bins in front of your driveway— and your key ring clatters as it hits the bowl on the side table.

You discard the bags, plopping the sandy things down in the entryway, and kick off your sandals— bare soles padding along lacquered wood paneling as you head to the kitchen for some much needed water.

The sound of the tap running camouflages Frankie’s movement, you don’t hear him behind you. He’s got stealth in him, harbored there from before. He’s light on his feet when he chooses to be—nimble-like, bordering on feline—and you startle with a bubbly chuckle when you spin around to discover him far closer than you anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us hydrated,” you grin, as if it were obvious. You’re welcome.

He hums, the note rumbling against the cage of his ribs, and lessens the distance between you with a single stride. “That can wait.”

He rids you of the glasses, hurriedly placing them on the counter, and meets you in a kiss—and fuck can that man kiss. Frankie, like with all things, is responsive—attentive. His lips are fever-laced and wanton, and he roves against yours like they’re designed to— fated for no one else’s but your own— nipping and tonguing at your honeyed whines, orphaned there in the well of your mouth.

His hands vine up your body, so deprived of the luxury of your form - of touch - and he grabs at anything he can— your hips, your waist, your breasts through the cotton of your shirt— their half moon curves sitting ripe in his palms.

After ushering you up to the countertop, he strips you of your jean shorts, your bikini bottom sloughing down your calves along with them, and hoists your feet onto the fake granite, prying your legs wide for him.

When he gets an eyeful of your gleaming pussy, pearled with arousal, the wind gets punched straight out of him.

“Jesus honey,” he groans, “you been like this the whole ride home?”

Your brain is numb, lagging with lust. You don’t trust your voice to speak—all you can do is nod.

“Poor thing,” he simpers. “Poor pretty thing, all wound up for me—all wet.”

You whimper at his tone—graveled, just shy of condescending—and your knees weaken shut before he snatches them apart.

“Sit still.”

It’s a command, there’s no room for disobedience; he orders it with a soldier's voice—that dead thing he wears like dog tags around his neck. Vice grip widening your legs, Frankie sinks down onto his shins, head leveled with your core, engrossed with the sight of your damp sex quivering.

Blotchy warmth creeps up your neck, like ivy crawling over brick.

He’s staring at you— hungry and possessed and simply staring at your open cunt and you begin to fidget once more—riling under his umbered appraisal.

“Sit still baby girl,” he murmurs, softer now and desperate too—intoxicated with the heady perfume of your heat. “Lemme just— fuck, I gotta taste you…”

When he swipes the deft muscle of his tongue through your slit, your head careens back onto the cabinets, plates and bowls rattling behind the wood.

Oh god, Frankie.

He’s got a talent for this— an excruciating, body wracking talent. He thirsts for you something dangerous, something unquenchable; he tugs at your labia, forming his lips around your clit, lapping at your essence— the ocean musk, that sea foam wet.

You fumble through his hair, mussing the saline woven strands with urgent fingers as you grind grind grind, rolling your hips to meet him in a covetous show of want and he purrs into your pussy as you fuck his face, the scratch of his stubble chafing at your legs.

It doesn’t take long, not with the fervor of how he’s claiming your cunt with his mouth. You soak Frankie’s chin— you nearly fucking drown him with it—and he’s glistening with you when he finally emerges for air, pulling you to him to slant his lips against yours, letting you savor your own taste on his hot tongue.

“Bedroom. Now,” he husks, breath hitching as his nose grazes along your ear, and with two hands under your armpits, he gathers you off the countertop. Frankie lands a swat at the plump of your backside, sending you scurrying through the living room with a shriek—completely bypassing the abandoned pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

He smirks—delirious and ramrod stiff—sauntering behind you, enamored with the pendulum sway of your hips as you lead him to the bed.

/

You’ve never been here. You’ve never gone this far. You both have tiptoed this narrow line for months; he’s fingered your ass plenty—you have even gone so far as to don a butt plug. You’ve discussed anal—toyed with the idea, flirted in circles around it like tittering birds.

But you’ve never taken Frankie’s cock. Not yet.

He’s been working you loose and limber for the better part of fifteen minutes, delving himself knuckle deep into your slicked hole until you’re sputtering for more— until you’re downright sopping and fucking shaking— and not with trepidation but with desire. Frankie’s made you gluttonous. Frankie’s made you voracious.

You’re starving for him.

“You gonna let me have this now?” He presses a digit over your ass, kissing his thumb into the knot there.

You tremble, nodding frantic.

“Think this pretty little ass can take me, baby?”

He serves you a slap, plush skin jiggling and pricking pink under his palm. You keen into him, in search of the promise he’s been baiting you with and you arch your hips, gyrating back onto fucking nothing.

“Yes. Yes—” You twist, chin corkscrewed around to see him. You want to watch. You want to watch as he disappears inside you— as you swallow him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly gone gentle around the lines fraying from his eyes—those wrinkles he’s hard-earned and won, like badges, like medals—from all his years spent under an unforgiving sun, all of that which he has seen and endured. Survived. Your Frankie, always thoughtful, always checking. A goddamn gentleman, even now—even as his dick brays hard and angry against the soft of his tawny stomach. “Because really, we don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a whimper, splaying your pelvis up to him—spreading yourself, letting him see the filth dripping from your seam, dappling your inner thighs. “Fuck me,” you whine, both holes puckering for him. “Fill me up, like you said you would— please.”

Something shifts across his features like a shadow and his expression morphs until it steels— his pupils dilating to a predatorial onyx— and he spits into his palm, coating his shaft, jerking himself with it.

He hisses as he guides himself into you, as you accommodate around him, as you envelop him entirely— inch by veritable inch. He has to station a hand to the base of your lumbar, struggling to maintain his composure—air rattling in and out his lungs as he attempts to breathe.

“Shit,” he gasps, “t-this okay?”

You fist the comforter, coiling the fabric into a ball. It’s a stretch— it’s a real goddamn stretch— and briefly you consider that he might, in fact, snap you in two...

Francisco Morales is going to split you clean in half—and God, if you don’t you love it.

“Yes - yes baby - keep going. D-Don’t stop.”

He pitches into you, setting a legato tempo— transfixed by the lurid juncture where you converge into one. “You- you’re so tight. Shit, you’re—”

He silences himself with a delicious moan, biting at his lower lip until the vessels there burst and it purples, and deals a particularly aggressive thrust— one you respond to with an ugly wail of your own, eyes somersaulting in their sockets.

You’re both impatient, verging on rabid, and it doesn’t take long for him to set a rougher pace and fuck you faster - harder - hammering into your ass until you see stars, popping and fizzing in front of your retinas, a symphony of guttural grunts and carnal praise fogging up the bedroom.

Your pussy feels so empty you could cry—weeping and gaping and fluttering for him as he takes your tight ring of muscle, fucking himself to the hilt. It’s like he’s behind your brain—like he’s carved his way up your spine and nudging at the nape of your neck with how deep he’s driving into you—restless. Ceaseless. His balls slap slap slap against your puffy cunt and you pant— girlish and buoyant with the dulled smacks to your sore clit.

“Please,” you sob, “Please, I need—”

You can barely push the words out—your mind is of no help and your tongue lolls useless, languid in your mouth. Your motor functions have all but puttered to a halt, every scrap of you fighting to stay above the sensation that’s threatening to drag you under its current. The rip tide of it all, of Frankie’s cock, coursing through your ass, tempting to hurdle you out into the dark, wet blue.

“Tell me,” Frankie rasps, scraping through his throat. “Tell me, pretty baby.”

Your response is pathetic—you can hardly dignify it as a response at all. Your temple is pressed into the mattress, hair knotted with brine and sand, and all you can do is coo.

Frankie folds over you, angling himself to graze his teeth over your shoulder—savoring the salt and sex tang bathing your skin, all those pheromones and velveteen chemicals anointing you—baptizing you anew for him. He’s gruff when he murmurs, his beard grating your freshly tanned skin.

“C’mon sweetheart - hng, fuck - what do you need?”

“My clit,” you rush out, needy. “My clit. Please, oh my god Frankie I-I need you to, I need – oh fuck—” And your pleas are mummed by a rapturous moan as he trails his hand from the hollow of your hip to the apex of your cleft and flicks.

Fuck. Fuck, oh Christ—

There’s a ringing in your ears, buzzing you deaf, making you dumb—or maybe it’s just your heart, beating loud and errant against your skull—you can’t say. You don’t feel human. Frankie’s pounding into that cinched channel and playing with your clit—swiveling eddies into your swollen nub—and you feel like an animal. You feel debased. You feel disgusting and perfect and you’re fucking drooling; cheek squished and mouth agape, saliva pools from your wagging maw, darkening the white linen you’re being driven into.

“You need me in your pussy, too?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer him— he already knows what you need, how you need to have every part of you gorged on him— and Frankie dips his fingertips into your entrance, hooking them up and up and in, fucking in time to the cant of his hips.

He’s in you. Everywhere, everywhere—every possible neuron and synapse consumed with him.

“You need me like this—fucking you this deep? Fucking both your pretty holes?” he growls, weaving his hand lower to grab a fistful of your hair, rucking your head up. Throat stretched bare for him, your mewls muddle to cock-drunk cries as he spears you on himself again and again and again.

Yes yes yes fuck harder please please Frankie

You're pleading with him—you’ve been reduced to meager begging— and a chorus of slurs sings your release as you contract around him and cum, the cradle of your hips bucking reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he seethes, “you’re so good for me baby, Jesus fuck—”

He’s close now—his blissed finish drawing nearer and nearer with each sharp snap of his hips. Frankly, he’s shocked he’s managed to last as long as he has; it’s a small miracle he hadn’t cum the instant he slotted himself inside you with that very first stroke.

“Baby,” he warns, losing his rhythm. You saddle your spine, hollowing out the valley of your back and arch pretty and supple for him— preening under his weight. He moans at that, and through your fucked out haze you have the wherewithal to smirk at him, devious and prideful, a wild look owning your eye.

Frankie has to brace himself on your hips, untangling from your locks to bruise into the pillow of your skin— gripping on for dear fucking life as he plows you. You’re strangling him. You’re strangling the thick of his cock until he’s dizzy with it—until he’s feral and blind and he can’t hold on, can’t keep fighting this fucking monsoon that’s raging in his core.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—fuck me, oh shit—” He shouts, spurting inside you thrust for thrust, painting your virgin walls with his seed. It’s too much— after all that, and you’re still too tight— and he’s overstimulated to the point of delirium. Frankie roots himself still, cum dribbling out your stuffed hole while he rides out the high of his orgasm—his vision, his senses, his goddamn soul, slowly oozing back into him. When he slides free from you, he does so with a pained heave, leaving you yawning with his absence.

You feel shredded. Vacant. You’ve been sent to another fucking dimension all together.

Without wasting another second, Frankie claws you up. You’re easy and malleable, bones and muscles too strung out to protest, and he whirls you around to bar you to his chest—crushing your sweaty body to his with bullet marred arms— the same arms that have taken lives, that have spared them, too. The same arms that link around you, delicate and daisy-chained, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

And you are.

You are.

Frankie kisses you breathless, drinking rich from your cup— tongue greedy and reverent as he kneels there at your altar, praying his sins into your mouth.

So gorgeous, he croons, peppering your face—your flushed cheeks, your perspired brow—with his lips as he tells you over and over and over again.

So good for me, pretty baby

Was that okay?

Fuck, you’re a dream

You’re my best girl—you’re my only girl

Was that okay?

God, you’re my whole fucking world

Was that okay? Was I okay?

Are you okay?

You swoon, helpless to the contented sigh that seeps out from you like mist. You’ve gone limp against the breadth of him. He has reduced you to rubber, left wobbling in his grasp, and you’re so damn full—your heart and your body—all of it. You feel unequivocally complete. You feel safe, you feel home.

You are home. Francisco is home.

He’s flattening out the nest of your hair, taming the damage he previously delivered to it, earning from you a sleepy grin into the muggy crook of his neck. And with the last of your waning strength you hold his pieces up to the light—the light you left on in the hall as the night grew dark around you, the one who’s yellow glow your naked bodies bask in now, and you say

I love you

I love this

I love this too

tags:

@krissology @heartsofbeskar @madhattervanessa @andiesturgss @sharkbait77 @tenderwhat @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @frannyzooey @chasingdreamer @djarinsbeskar @thosewickedlovelies @juletheghoul @not-the-droids @filthybookworm @pilothusband @letterfromvienna @keeper0fthestars @greatcircle79 @day-off-inkyoto @mermaidxatxheart @lawfulgranola @heatherbel @quica-quica-quica @stuckonthefiction @janesbrontes

[mandoalorian]

Chicken Nuggets [Marcus Moreno x F!Reader] *SMUT*

Summary: Marcus is back on the dating scene for the first time since his wife passed. Tonight is the night, and he’s a little insecure, but he hopes he can show you how much you mean to him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, car sex!!!, male receiving oral/road head (do not try at home!!), food mention, alcohol mention, feelings, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus is so adorable I’m gonna cry.

Word count: 2000>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED! ✨

Masterlist

Marcus Moreno was a gentleman. He was caring, and affectionate -- and unlike any other guy  you had ever been with, he was an excellent listener. He’d always ask about your day and he loved to find out quirky little facts about you. It always made you smile when he brought up a menial piece of information that you told him in passing conversation weeks ago. He made you feel cared for, and important.

Marcus was completely and utterly smitten with you. He hadn’t been with anyone since his ex-wife, who had passed away two years ago. Getting over the heartbreak alongside his daughter wasn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy. But he was getting there. And with you by his side, your company seemed to make things just that little bit easier. He wouldn’t trade you for the world.

So it was your fifth date, and Marcus felt as though he was finally ready to get intimate with you. Both you and him had discussed sex, and he knew it was something you wanted, but you would always reassure him that there was absolutely no pressure and you were fine waiting until he was ready. Marcus Moreno was too good of a man to just let go for that reason.

It was Saturday night and you had decided to meet him at the small Italian restaurant located on the coastline. It was the most perfect, romantic destination for a date. Marcus was always punctual, arriving at least fifteen minutes early no matter the reason. But to your surprise, not this time. He was so nervous, knowing that tonight would be the night. He’d cut himself shaving, he’d drowned himself in cologne and he tried to put in contacts but they’d somehow slipped out of his eye and landed in the sink, all mushed up and ruined. So he was back to doting his thick rimmed glasses that you adored. He was only five minutes late, and you didn’t mind too much, already cracking into the bottle of red wine. His smile when his gaze locked onto you was enough to fill your body with fuzzy butterflies. He presented you with a bouquet of roses and tried to hide the blush that crossed his cheeks.

“Hi,” he said nervously. He looked down when you pressed a gentle kiss over his lips. “Wow, everything smells so good,” he acknowledged as he sat down opposite you. “What do you think you’ll order?”

“Maybe the pasta,” you returned, checking the menu. “What about you?”

“Well, I promised Missy I’d bring her a slice of pizza home, so…” Marcus admitted and you giggled. Hating your laugh, you brought your hands to your face and covered your mouth. Marcus noticed immediately and took your hands, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. “Don’t hide yourself from me,” he cooed, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. “You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and felt your cheeks flush under his sweet words. You didn’t know what it was -- perhaps the adrenaline of knowing what was to come after dinner, but his touch alone was enough to drive a bolt of anticipation through your core. You swallowed, losing your appetite for pasta and beginning to crave something else. He didn’t let go of your hands once, his fingers carefully tracing comforting circles into your skin as he gazed into your eyes and admired your beauty. 

“Marcus…” you whispered, pushing your thighs together as you felt arousal begin to pool between your legs.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on too, if the tent in his pants was anything to judge by. “Yes?” he answered almost immediately, hating the way the word left his lips. He prayed the desperation that dripped from his tongue wasn’t evident to you.

“I… we… could get dinner later, if you wanted.” you suggested.

Marcus knew exactly what you meant, but he hadn’t realised it would be happening so soon. Nervous but excited, he bit his lower lip and nodded his head, a twinkle of lust sparkling in his honey brown eyes. He paid the bill, just for the bottle of wine, and took your hand before leading you out the restaurant. 

During the drive back to his place, you were feeling pretty restless. As his dark eyes focused on the road ahead, you let your hand wander across his denim clad thigh and towards his crotch. Your fingers delicately danced along his bulge and you felt more than satisfied when you heard a dark string of curses leave his lips. You’d never heard Marcus be so vulgar in his life.

“Shit hermosa, you trying to make me crash?” he chuckled, his eyebrows furrowing together with concentration. He was throbbing, but he figured he’d be able to handle it, as long as you didn’t go inside his jeans. The blood rushed to the tip of his cock as you palmed him softly. You hummed at his question but opted not to give him an answer, or at least, not with words. Popping open the top button of his pants and then finding his zipper, you pulled it all the way down. “You can’t wait, huh?” he countered further, already trying to resist the urge to thrust upwards into your hand. 

Finding that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, you swallowed, and looked up at him with doe-like eyes. “Marcus…” you purred, wasting no time and pulling out his thick length. He was hot and heavy, and under the artificial amber lights that illuminated the front of the car, you gave his cock a few pumps. “I had no idea you were so big.” you praised with a nervous giggle. 

Marcus didn’t say a word. He hadn’t been touched like this in a long time. Yeah, he’d used his own hand on plenty of occasions but it had never felt like this. He forgot how good it could feel.

The adrenaline was coursing through his veins as your thumb wiped up the precum that had beaded at the tip of his cock. 

“Your hand is cold, sweetheart.” Marcus murmured as you shimmied your fingers down his length to cradle his balls. As you squeezed them and played with them, you could feel him getting harder and harder.

“Do you prefer warmth?” you cooed quizzically. Marcus shuddered but remained silent, his eyes still fixated on the road. His patience surprised you, but he was a Heroic, after all. 

Clicking open your seatbelt, you shuffled down to your knees and crawled over the control panel in the car. Leaning over and finding a comfortable position, you placed your tongue flat against the slit and began to suck at his head. Marcus gripped down on the steering wheel as his eyes snapped shut, a heavy pant leaving his lips. His eyes must’ve been closed a little too long because the car swerved and you squealed his name. Thankfully it was late and the road was more or less empty.

“Tha- that could’ve been bad, baby,” Marcus gasped, his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Mhm.” you agreed as you bopped your head up and down his shaft.

He moved one hand from the wheel to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you continued to go down on him. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

“So- so fucking good. Oh f-fuck, I forgot how good this coul-could feel… princess,” He admitted and you smirked around his length. “Mm, I’m close.” 

After only a few more pumps of his cock, Marcus came in your mouth, his salty seed spurting across your tongue. His load was large and you couldn’t swallow it all, but as you pulled off him, and the milky coloured substance dripped down your chin, he couldn’t have looked more proud. He pulled over at some place and let you regain your balance as you crawled back up to the passenger seat and strapped yourself back in. 

“Th- thank you.” Marcus blushed, leaning over and wiping his cum from your lips, doing his best to clean you up.

“You don’t have to thank me Marcus,” you returned his smile and gave his thigh a little squeeze. Marcus tucked himself back in and zipped his pants up. You looked out the window at the bright yellow and red lights. “Marcus, where are we?”

Marcus grinned sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve worked up an appetite after that. We uh- we’re at McDonalds.”

Of course. Of course DILF dad Heroic Marcus Moreno would take you to McDonald’s drive thru after receiving road head. It just made sense. You burst into a fit of giggles and rest your head on his shoulder. He wrapped a strong arm around you and pressed a kiss into your forehead.

“You’re unbelievable,” you laughed, shaking your head incredulously. “You’re so- God… Marcus… I think I lo-”

You cut yourself off immediately, your heart sinking in your chest as you realised what you were about to say. Praying that Marcus hadn’t clicked on, you tore yourself from him and rolled down the car window, peering out to gaze at the illuminated menu on the wall. 

“What do you normally get?” you asked, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

Shit, it had only been five dates and you weren’t even sure if he was completely over his wife yet. But all of a sudden, everything made sense. You really were in love with him. Was it too soon? Of course, you’d known him forever, but there was no telling how he’d react to your confession. 

“Uh-- I like cheeseburgers…” Marcus replied. “And fries. And a cola. What about you?”

You closed your eyes and sunk back into the chair. It was okay. It was going to be okay. When you turned back to face him, Marcus’ eyes were already boring into you, admiring your beauty.

“I like chicken nuggets.”

Marcus grinned. “So does Missy.”

He continued down the drive thru and ordered a chicken McNugget sharebox. Parking in the isolated lot, he passed you your soft drink and pierced the straw into his own cola before setting out the box of chicken nuggets. 

You and Marcus sat in comfortable silence as you dipped your nuggets in the assortment of sauces. “I really like you,” Marcus confessed. “And Missy likes you too. Which is important to me. We’ve been friends forever and I just think we’re good… together. Shit. That wasn’t meant to rhyme. I--”

You laughed when you saw how adorably flustered Marcus got. “I like you too.” You admitted and Marcus nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Are you still up for coming back to my place tonight? Missy is with her abuela.” 

“Yes.” you replied and his grin only deepened.

“Okay, good.”

You finished the box of chicken nuggets and slouched back into the chair, rubbing your tummy. “That was so good,” you beamed. “I’m stuffed though. I need to lie down.”

Marcus felt his cheeks heat up as he turned his key and switched on the engine. “When we get home.” he promised, his cock already hardening again as he imagined you spread out on his bed with your legs open. All the things he could do to you…

Sure, you didn’t expect your fifth date to end up with road head and chicken nuggets, but it was perfect, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[fruitcoops]

okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”