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tinycoffeeroom · 4 months

Text

miami heat | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

a/n: this is SO late but it took me forever to move past the writers block of a text only fic </3 still thinking about lando's race win...

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You and Lando had been inevitable. Your dad was a long time racing fan, often attending karting events around the country and dragging you along. As time passed, you learned to love it too, often waiting for your dad at the door when he got back from work so the two of you could quickly throw some clothes into an overnight bag and travel off to whichever race track you’d be camping in that weekend.

It helped that your cousin was a kart racer, both you and your dad using him as an excuse for attending so many races. Your mum would sigh, pull out the premade lunches from the fridge and stuff them into a small blue cooler before seeing the two of you off at the door.

When your cousin got the call up to F4, you’d been overjoyed for him. Being able to watch his dreams come true filled you with so much pride. It also gave you and your dad another excuse to attend more F4 races, now offering to pick your cousin up and take him from race track to race track every weekend as well as your dad offering to be his race engineer, using his background as a mechanic to work on the car’s engine. Your aunt and uncle agreed happily, knowing how much the two of you enjoyed watching your cousin race.

The first live F4 race felt electrifying. You weren’t used to seeing actual cars racing in person, only ever watching the Formula 1 races on the small portable TV your dad had invested in during the first year of your kart watching adventures. You and your cousin would always cheer for your favourite racers, him still sweaty and suited up from his own race but pumped up on adrenaline.

You watched as he fist bumped other drivers after the race, coming a respectable 4th in his first ever F4 race. This part was your least favourite, having to wait for your cousin to talk to all these sweaty teenage boys was not your idea of fun. Spread out comfortably on the moon chairs your dad had bought for the races, you opened your 3DS to play Pokemon Sun. Too enveloped in the battle between your Incineroar and the NPC’s Crabominable, you missed the sound of someone dropping into the chair next to you.

“What level is he?”

You jumped at the sound, looking up quickly to lock eyes with a random boy.

He was obviously a racer, still suited up. Using one hand to push back sweat soaked curly hair, he curiously eyed your 3DS before looking back up at you.

“She’s level 57. I need to beat this Crabominable to make her 58 so she can learn Flare Blitz.”

He hummed, a soft smile spread across his face as he flits his eyes over you. You took note of your appearance, hair pulled back into two braids to keep it out of your face in the windy English weather, your dads bomber jacket engulfing your figure as you fought the cold.

“Female Incineroar, rare.” He sounded impressed. “Don’t let me stop you.” Gesturing to the console in your hands, he leant back and focused on your hands.

Unsure of how to respond, you looked back down at your game. The Crabominable had about half HP but this was a nasty NPC, whipping out potion after potion to heal the Pokemon. You and the unnamed boy sat side by side as you chipped away, bit by bit, at the Crabominable’s HP until the victory message appeared on your screen. A mere 2000 pokedollars given for your troubles.

You watched as your Incineroar, lovingly nicknamed Kitty from when you started the game, levelled up to 58 and finally, she could learn Flame Blitz.

Saving the game and shutting down the console, you looked back at the boy beside you. He smiled back in response.

“So… no offence, but who are you?” The second the sentence left your lips, you wanted to smack the 3DS into your face, tone not unkind but wary. You could only hope he wouldn’t take offence to the question.

“Oh, sorry!” He reaches across to offer you his hand. You shake it gingerly, his hand warm in your wind chilled one.

“I’m Lando. Lando Norris. Soon to be F4 champion if all goes well. And you are?”

He was still smiling, the curve unnerving you a little. “Y/N. My cousin’s just joined F4, he’s over there.” Reaching out, you pointed towards the boy in question who was high fiving another racer, the two of them laughing loudly over the sound of car engines.

“Oh, Y/C/N? He’s cool. I met his dad earlier.”

You glanced over at the man mentioned, head bowed as he conversed with the other adults about race tactics and the boys’ performances. “That’s my dad, his uncle. He’s a mechanic so it made sense that he would be Y/C/N’s race engineer.”

“What about you? Are you a big karting fan?”

From the sound of his voice, you could tell he was facing you. Too nervous to look into his eyes again, you focused on your dad, watching as he pulled your cousin aside to talk about the race. “I am. Me and my dad have been going to karting events most weekends for years.”

His eyes burned into the side of your face, gaze unwavering. “How about Formula 1? That’s my dream, I want to race against Lewis Hamilton and one day beat him.”

The mention of your favourite driver dragged your attention back to the boy beside you. You smiled softly, pulling your iPhone 6 out of your pocket to show him the 44 sticker on the back of the case. “I love Formula 1. Me and Y/C/N are gonna watch the race in the van while my dad makes some adjustments to the car. Do you…” You hesitated for a moment.

Were you really going to invite a boy you’d just met to come sit with you and your cousin to watch a race? It was harmless, the three of you would fit in the back seats, but you weren’t sure if Y/C/N would want him to join.

Lando beat you to it. “Aw, I would ask to join but me and my dad have to get back home as soon as possible, it’s my sister's birthday this weekend!” Pulling his own phone out of his pocket, he showed you his lockscreen, a picture of him and who you guessed was his family.

You nod, turning your own phone in circles in your hands. “Happy birthday to your sister.”

He grins, the smile seemingly permanently etched on his face. “Thanks, Y/N!”

You hear a man call for him, presumably his dad. Lando sighed as he nodded towards the man, turning back towards you. “Gotta run! Could I maybe get your number? I think we’re going to be good friends.”

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He was right. The two of you would text every moment you could. In between classes, before and after dinner, even facetiming until the early hours of the morning on weekends.

Every weekend, you’d pull up to the race track and there Lando would be, permanent wide smile and open arms as you hugged briefly. Before each race, he’d run over to you, head bowed so you could knock on his helmet. You weren’t sure when the tradition had started but ever since it began, it was cemented in his pre-race routine.

After every race, it would go one of two ways. If it was a good race, he’d run over and hug you, spinning you round as you laughed brightly at him. If it was a not so good race, you’d be the one to approach him, the two of you sitting on the lip of his dad’s van in comfortable silence as you let him work through his emotions in his own time. He’d soon come around, chatting to you about any and everything.

Before you’d leave, he’d pull you into another hug, swaying the two of you from side to side.

Of course, your cousin teased you. Singing silly childish songs, “Y/N and Lando sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G”. You’d bat him across the head, willing the blush in your cheeks to go down.

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Since the two of you were now 16, whilst Lando had allowances for his GCSE’s, you still had to knuckle down and work hard. Hours were spent sitting at your desk, eyes scanning across textbook after textbook. It was only after Lando called you in tears after he struggled to understand the poems needed for his English exams and explained he had dyslexia that the two of you would facetime every night. You’d read out the poems to him as he took it all in and made notes in a way that made sense to him. You told him about these coloured overlays that were meant to help people with dyslexia read, and you’d watch him cry as pink acetate covered the poems and he could finally, finally, understand. The two of you still facetimed every night, he claimed your voice helped him understand so much more.

Since you had to revise, you often had to forfeit your racing weekends. You’d see your dad and cousin off at the door, much like your mum had done for years, and return to your room, wiping the tears that threatened to escape from your eyes.

The routine never changed though. Lando would call you before every race, telling you that you had to knock on the screen and he’d hold his helmet clad head to the camera. After every race, you’d either celebrate over the phone or sit in silence, watching him through the screen as he let himself digest what went wrong in the race.

Your last GCSE exam fell on a Friday, the freedom of your weekends returning. You didn’t tell Lando, wanting to surprise him at the race track. As you sat in the back seat of your dad’s van, you kept up the pretence for Lando, texting him as if you had a normal weekend of revising ahead.

When the three of you pulled up to the race track, you ducked down so you weren’t visible through the windows. Your dad got out of the car first, greeting Lando’s dad. The two of them had formed a good friendship through the race weekends, often sitting together to watch the boys go round the track. Next up was Y/C/N, jumping out the van and fist bumping a waiting Lando.

The two boys went to leave, already play fighting about who would win. It was only then that you snuck out the back seat, hands on your hips as you called out to the boys ahead.

“Forgetting something?”

Lando’s head whipped around so fast, you feared he’d give himself whiplash. You barely had time to laugh at his dumbstruck expression before he’d launched himself at you, strong arms wrapped tight around your waist as he lifted you in the air.

He pressed his face deeply into your neck, the feel of his smile present against your skin.

Linking your arms around the back of his neck, you played with the unruly curls tickling your chin. “Missed me?”

He nodded, head still firmly placed between your neck and shoulder. The two of you stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence until your cousin piped up.

“We do still have a race to get to.” Locking eyes with him, you could already tell he was going to tease you relentlessly when you’re back in the van.

Lando finally released you, hands still holding firm on the sides of your waist. Warm smile directed at you, eyes glistening a little with unshed tears.

Lando’s dad bumped his helmet against his shoulder, Lando taking it and pulling on his balaclava and the helmet. He bowed his head, allowing you to knock on it once. This time however, he knocked on your own head once, hand uncurling to cup the side of your face before he walks away to join your cousin.

In that moment, you knew you were in love with Lando Norris.

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The two of you stayed close throughout the years. You still attended as many races as possible, celebrating his wins and commiserating through his lows. Soon you were watching him in Formula 3, then Formula 2 and finally, after all his hard work, you stood in the paddock of Albert Park watching as Lando was flanked by engineers.

His debut Formula 1 race.

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The day you got the call that he’d been contracted by McLaren was one of the best days of your life. It took him 5 minutes to calm down enough to explain to you what had happened, the two of you sobbing violently over the phone as you realised his dream had come true.

As you collected yourself once you’d gotten off the phone, your mum had come upstairs with a packed lunch and a flask of fresh, warm coffee. Looking at her questioningly, she smiled softly at you.

“Go. You need to celebrate with him in person.”

You grabbed the box and flask from her hands, arms thrown wide around her. Packing a quick overnight bag, you jumped in your car, haring down the motorway to Lando’s parents house.

The look on his face when he opened the door made the possible speeding tickets worth it, eyes wide and glossy as they flit up and down your body. “You’re here?”

You grinned at him, wide and unabashed. “I’m here.”

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The cycle continued. Every podium was met with you running into his arms when he was back in the garage and every DNF resulted in the two of you sitting in his driver’s room, your arms wrapped tight around him as the dream of a grand prix win slipped from his grasp again and again.

Today, something was different however. Lando had knocked on your door bright and early, inviting you down for breakfast with the team. He told you about a dream he had last night where he won the Miami Grand Prix, how the champagne shower had felt so real.

This unwavering optimism continued throughout the day. Him bouncing alongside you as you walked through the paddock, greeting the other drivers along your way. The optimism rubbed off on you, finding yourself pulling up old photos of Lando to save to a folder titled “Race Win”.

When it came time to get in the car, you watched as his engineer secured the final straps before disappearing behind a screen to check the car’s stats. He looked up at you through the open visor, head soon bowing. Leaning down, you knocked once before dropping a quick kiss to the top of his helmet. Extra luck for the day.

The entire race had you on the edge of your seat. You cheered as Oscar led the grand prix, winced as Max hit the bollard and nearly sobbed your eyes out as Lando overtook to lead. Kevin pushing Logan off the track meant a safety car and Lando ended up fortunate to join at the back but one lap ahead. A pit stop and fresh tires and away he went. Each second he gained on Max left spikes in your heart rate until it reached the 7 second mark and the last 4 laps and you knew. Deep down in your soul, even if everyone was still on tenterhooks, you knew this was his time. His win.

The engineers ran to the fences, an army of papaya swarming the metal chain link as your eyes stayed glued to the camera. At the last second, you darted out to the fence, away from the chanting crowd so you’d have an unobstructed view of his win.

The chequered flag waved and Lando crossed the finish line, now a grand prix winner. You couldn’t have stopped the tears even if you tried, knees buckling as you held onto the fence in front of you.

The noise around you was near deafening, engineers dog piling on one another, a few strays leaving the group to wrap you in tight hugs.

A hand landed on your shoulder, warm but soft pats pulling you from your stupor. Turning, you looked up at Zak, a fond smile on his face. “Let’s go see our boy.”

The two of you walked in near silence, Zak leaving his hand on your shoulder as he welcomed congratulations from other teams. The tears never stopped streaming down your face, vision swimming as you passed team after team.

The breath was knocked out of you as arms wrapped around your waist from behind and swung you around. Looking down, you spotted the rose tattoo on a left hand and laughed as Daniel dropped you back softly onto the ground. Spinning around, you threw yourself into his arms properly, the two of you rocking back and forth happily.

“He did it!” Daniel shouted as you pulled away, hands on your shoulders to shake you gently.

“He did it!” You responded, a fresh wave of tears escaping your eyes. Daniel laughed at your tears, wiping them away haphazardly before letting you run back to Zak’s side.

You watch as Lando ran towards his team, still fully suited up, launching himself into the air as the sea of papaya below caught him. The team held him aloft, jostling him through a mass of hands.

Once he’s back on solid ground, Zak approached him first, the two of them sharing a warm hug. The visor of his helmet is lifted and without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling, eyes scrunched up in joy.

Those same eyes finally lock onto you, wide and sparkling. He runs at you as fast as he can, arms outstretched. You brace for impact, a laugh being pressed out of you as he crushes you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist as he lifts you up, warm eyes staring straight into yours.

Before you even know what you’re doing, your lips press against the front of his helmet, right where his own mouth would be beneath the carbon fibre, a universal sign in racing of a lover’s kiss.

Ignoring the roar of his team around you, you focus on Lando in front of you. His eyes crinkled under the force of his own happiness, shining bright even under the dark cover of the helmet. He lowers you down, arms wrapped firmly around your waist until your feet are planted safe on the floor.

You watch as he unclasps the straps under his chin and rips the helmet off, his neck support following in haste. His eyes are still locked onto yours, unshed tears gleaming along his lash line. Through the balaclava, you can see his smile, warm and golden in the Miami sun.

The balaclava comes off next and your heart stutters at the pure, unobstructed view of the man in front of you. Sweat clings to his upper lip, dripping down his thick neck, curls matted to his forehead under the American heat. You’re drawn back to his eyes, green as a hidden forest, full of glimpses of golden hour through the branches. You loved how you could always tell how he felt through his eyes, forever abundant with emotion.

Hands wrap back around your waist, dragging you into him as he presses his lips unwaveringly against your own. It’s a little gross, the feeling of sweat transferring to your own lips, the damp curls at the bottom of his neck where your hands come to lie but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s worth it to feel his smile against your own, the kiss more teeth than lips and you breathe in the way he laughs against your mouth, molten gold dripping from his lips to yours.

The two of you part slightly, cheeks aching at the way you’re still grinning. The kiss remains unspoken, Lando being dragged off by his team for interviews. You look at Zak who winks knowingly at you. This time, you let the blush rise, overtaking your cheeks and flushing down your neck.

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Waiting for Lando in his driver's room seemed to never end. It had been an hour since you’d finally kissed him and your lips still tingle with the feeling.

Your mind was a jumbled mess, thought after thought fighting to sit at the front of your mind. Tracing your finger across your lips, you allow yourself to remember that moment. To fall headfirst into how it felt to finally feel what it was like to kiss Lando.

The sound of the driver’s room door banging against the wall shakes you out of your stupor, twirling around to face a sheepish Lando.

“Um, sorry… I guess I was just eager to get back here.” He giggles softly, standing still in the threshold.

Smiling back at him, you gesture him inwards, scoffing at the absurdity of you inviting him into his own driver’s room. He stumbles in, shutting the door behind him. One hand reaches out to run over the scuff mark on the wall, grimacing as he traces the black mark.

He turns to face you, smile beaming as you stand two feet apart, eyes tracing over each other as you bask in the long awaited silence. You watch as his hand reaches out, the back of his fingers brushing against yours. The hand reaches around, clasping yours gently in his. You squeeze once, smiling shyly up at him.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is quiet, almost shaky as he keeps his eyes trained on your conjoined hands.

You squeeze his hand again, humming your assent.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were 15 years old and I saw you sitting on those moon chairs. I remember my heart was beating so, so fast and I thought it was just post race adrenaline but when I remember your shy smile and the braids you had in your hair and my heart feels the exact same way. It’s always been you.”

Even after the kiss, the admission makes your heart race wildly. He loves you. He loves you back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t love me the same way I love you.” He tries to come off nonchalant, but the way his hand trembles in yours betrays his true emotions.

Rubbing your thumb over the back of his shaking hand, heart thumping erratically at both the situation and the sweetness of his nervous confession. “Lan, I was literally a 15 year old racing nerd and you were a boy willingly talking to me. Why do you think I was a nervous mess when you spoke to me? I had the biggest crush on you.”

“Having a crush and loving someone is different.” He leads you by your intertwined hands to the sofa, settling back into the corner as you sit close enough to keep your hands connected. “Back then, you knew me as Lando Norris, F4 driver, and then just Lando, your best friend who secretly stuffs his face with pizza and falls over his own feet more often than not.” He huffs out a laugh at the memory of the last time he’d tripped over thin air and fallen flat on his face when you’d gone to visit him in Monaco.

Avoiding eye contact, he keeps his eyes trained on the way your fingers interlock almost perfectly. “I was worried you wouldn’t love me when we became close.”

“You idiot,” using your free hand, you smack him lightly on the arm, giggling at the fact the two of you had been mutually pining for years, “that just made me love you more. Sure, I was 16 and the idea of dating a race car driver, even little Lando Norris,” his arm reaches out to return the smack, “was a dream, but then I wanted to date just Lando, the man who gives me piggybacks from clubs when my feet hurt and bites my arm when I’m not paying attention. I love you, just plain old Lando Norris.”

If you thought his smile when winning was bright, the one he shoots you now is almost overwhelming. Face pulled up so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if he complained of an ache in his cheeks later, eyes crinkling deeply at the corners and shining a bright seafoam green.

Before you can return the grin, he reaches up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. The passion is the same but different, no longer adrenaline filled from a race win, but full of love and adoration and the secret he never thought he’d get the chance to say.

He pulls back just enough for a whisper of air to pass between the two of you, eyes warm and locked onto yours. “I love you. So much. It’s me and you, plain old Lando and plain old Y/N.”

You push him lightly, grinning playfully. “Who are you calling plain?”

He rectifies his mistake with another kiss, this one softer and slower, the two of you taking the time to appreciate that this moment had finally come. The kiss moves to the corner of your lips, across your cheek and down to the spot just below your ear.

A hand wraps around your waist, securing you to your spot. Pulling back slightly, you look down at the smiling man resting his head on your shoulder. “So, I love you, and you love me. What next?”

“We go celebrate this momentous occasion, and the race win, and then I take you out for our first proper date.” Tightening his hold on you, he moves his head to rest in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping warm kisses to the skin beneath his mouth.

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a/n: 3 of my top 5 boys on the canada podium is so 💞💖🩷💓💗💝💖💗💕💗💘💞 also as an esteban ult, it's on site for alpine fr. ALSO GOTE pt 3 coming soon ❤️

#lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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moonstruckme · 7 days

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Hi Mae!! Congrats on 7K, and happy late birthday!

I would love to req an apple pie with Spencer (the way you write him is soooOOO cute) and ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek, possibly also along with ¹⁴⁾ laddered tights if it makes sense to you, but just the first one is ofc totally cool <3

Thank you for all the fics, the way you write is so so gorgeous and gives me a lot of comfort

Thank you angel!! I'm glad to have you here :)

cw: mention (implied mention?) of alcohol

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 578 words

Spencer finds you on the floor below his. You’re standing dejectedly outside a closed door with your arms folded across your chest.

“Hi,” he says.

You turn, your mouth falling open in surprise and glee. “Spence!” You start walking to meet him. “I was just talking to you on the phone!”

“I know you were.” He accepts the hug you offer him. You smell like the lotion you use before going out, and it overpowers the smell of bar. “You were upset I wasn’t coming to the door.”

“Yeah, because you weren’t.” You seem to remember your upset now, pulling away so you can frown at him.

Spencer tucks away his smile. “I don’t live here, honey. I’m one floor up.”

Your gaze moves away from his face, your brows furrowing. “Oh.”

“But I can take you back there now,” he offers.

Any trace of a frown vanishes. You’re simpering up at him. “Spencer Reid,” you say in a voice like honey, “you wanna take me back to your place?”

“I—uh, isn’t that why you came here?”

“No, it is.” You bite your lip, trying and failing to tamp down your grin. “It just sounds extra fun when you say it.”

“If you say so.” Spencer laughs, and it comes out sounding more awkward than he would’ve liked.

Your smile softens. You put your hand in his, letting him lead you back to the elevator. Your touch feels warm and sure.

“Did you have a good time out?” he asks, pressing the button for his floor with a knuckle and then using his thumb to wipe at a bit of lipstick that’s smeared onto your cheek. Clearly at some point during your night out you’d forgotten you were wearing makeup. There’s also a long tear stretching up from the knee of your tights.

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Spencer lowers his hand, and you watch it go. “I missed you, though.”

“I’m glad you came over. Did someone give you a ride here?”

“No, I walked.” You’re still watching his hand. Spencer thinks about putting it back on your face, even though he has no excuse to anymore. Maybe you need two points of contact.

“I would have come and gotten you,” he says.

“I like walking. The air felt nice. It’s getting cooler out at night.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” You’re close enough that he can reach down and lightly graze your laddered tights with his fingers. It’s a chaste tough, just above your knee, but still you shiver as if the chill outside has followed you in.

The elevator dings.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you say as he lets you into his apartment. He didn’t lock the door for the short trip downstairs, though he knows several members of his team would have something to say about it if they knew. “Maybe tomorrow we can go for coffee or something. Let me get you a hot drink to celebrate the cool weather, and to say thank you.”

“You can stay here anytime,” Spencer says, just to know that you’ve heard him say it. It’s not the first time he has. He watches you go straight for the bedroom, for the drawer in his closet where your pajamas are kept. “But coffee would be good, yeah, if—if you still want to tomorrow.”

You laugh, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Of course I’ll still want to. I always want to.”

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megistusdiary · 2 years

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giving tighnari an aphrodisiac while you’re hanging out so he’ll sleep with you cause you have a bit of a huge crush on him, but you severely miscalculate how long it’ll last for so you end up stuck underneath him, pussy aching from his neverending thrusts and his cum flowing out, telling you how much he’s in love with you and your cunt and hoping that this never ends. mission accomplished?

ok sorry i have been gone so long. i actually just finished a monster of a chem report and i am in the mood to write so lets do this >:)

this turned out really long my god- i got really into meaningless plot and dialogue i am so sorry, there's like 1 minute of smut.

also, because i like to keep it consensual, we are gonna say tighnari was already dtf and he knew exactly what those petals do 😏

warnings: rough-dom!tighnari and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

aphrodisiac usage (reader didn't know it was an aphrodisiac she gave tighnari), overstimulation, a lot of cum (unsafe sex 👎), biting, mating press, friends to lovers 🥵🥵, fingering/oral, also mentions of venti because he is your mondstat friend but he is wild

"and you're sure this is legit?" you asked, brows furrowing as you observed the petals in your palm.

"of course i'm sure, are you seriously doubting a professional?" venti grinned as you pursed your lips. "guaranteed to make even the most stoic swoon." venti pressed his hand to his forehead dramatically.

"alright, alright, i trust you." you carefully pocket the preserved blooms as venti eagerly bounces on his heels. you sigh deeply. "okay, one bottle on me, but that's it- diluc charges an arm and a leg these days."

it had been about a week since that conversation on your last day in mondstat. you originally went for research purposes and catching up with some old friends. sure, you expected a few souvenirs but not 'love blooms.'

you inspected the petals on your desk, trying desperately to focus on your reports.

when you told venti about your little (massive) crush on tighnari, venti was delighted to help you in the most venti way possible. by offering you flowers that make your crush fall in love with you.

because what other advice would that bard give?

you had your doubts, but part of you was intrigued to find out if they were real. you didn't want to test the tea on just anyone in case these blooms really did have some magic in them. or maybe you were just overthinking this. what if-

a soft knock on the wood of your door stirred you from your thoughts as you jumped up from your desk, knocking some of your papers off the surface.

"come in!" you call out, seeing tighnari peek his head around the corner of the wall. "tighnari! what are you doing here?"

tighnari greeted you with a small wave, carrying a basket in his arms. "i apologize for intruding so late, i originally meant to drop this off earlier. but you were asleep when i came by, and i didn't want to disturb you." tighnari smiled sheepishly, and you missed the soft blush dusting his cheeks in the low light from your lamp.

"oh, that's fine! it's great, no worries." you laughed awkwardly. "so, what's in there?" you pointed at the basket as he carefully opened the top.

"collei made it for you. she was feeling good this week, said it was the cooler weather and fresh air. she collected some herbs and fungi, and i think some tea leaves she received from a friend visiting liyue." tighnari mumbled, sifting through the contents.

"tell her i said thank you-"

"you could always come over and tell her yourself, you know. being a messenger is hard work for a forest ranger." tighnari teased.

you smiled at him fondly, shaking your head. it wasn't that you didn't want to visit, on the contrary. you were just terrified of embarrassing yourself in front of tighnari and collei.

"well, i am free tomorrow afternoon, if that's an okay time?"

"sure, i would check with collei first, but i'm positive she's already asleep." he hummed, ears flicking atop his head.

you let the quiet linger for a moment before you cleared your throat. "since you came all this way, would you like to stay for some tea?" you suddenly panicked, reminding yourself it was almost dark out, and tighnari would surely want to go back home as soon as possible. "well, i mean, it's late, so that was a stupid thing for me to suggest. sorry."

"actually, if you don't mind having me, i would love to share some tea. i didn't bring anything to drink on the trek here, and i am embarrassed to admit i'm a bit parched." tighnari's tail curled up as you nodded.

"sure! have a seat, anywhere you like- just maybe not on the chair with all my stuff on it, sorry for the mess." you awkwardly shuffled towards the kitchen, pulling the kettle out to start boiling a pot of water.

and then, the wicked little voice of venti popped into your mind.

now would be the perfect time to test out those petals.

you blinked twice, eyes shifting over to your desk where the petals sat. you smacked your cheeks, shaking your head.

no, that would be a bad idea. you don't even know if they're legit. and what if they're actually poison. can you ever really trust venti's judgement with love potion flowers?

you took a deep breath, instead focusing on rummaging through your cabinet, allowing tighnari to slink around your room unnoticed.

he smiled softly as he gazed at your handwriting. it slowly got sloppier as time went on, hand cramping from writing page upon page.

the ink bottle he had purchased for you from inazuma sat on your desk, almost empty. he made a mental note to purchase more the next time he had the chance.

you had lined up your favorite pens and quills on the desk, your notebooks at the side, scratches and rips on the cloth covers, and-

petals?

tighnari arched an eyebrow, glancing over to where you were in the kitchen, busy with digging for decent tea leaves.

he carefully picked the package up, bringing it up towards his face to waft the scent into his nose.

familiar and sweet. the saccharine petals had an aroma he had smelled before, though not from any plants in sumeru. it seemed familiar, like something from mondstat. perhaps he had read about it. something about legends.

tighnari frowned, deep in thought, tail bristling when he finally remembered. of course, mondstat tales of lovers. these flowers brought good luck for couples and those attempting to court their desired partners.

but why would you have them unless-

unless you were trying to court someone? tighnari frowned deeper at that thought.

his ears perked up as he heard you close the cabinets, walking into the room as he quickly situated himself on a chair, neatly folding his tail across his lap.

"sorry it took so long!" you smiled awkwardly. "it's brewing now, it'll just be a few minutes."

"take your time, don't stress yourself out over tea." tighnari shook his head, mentally cooing at your adorable expression when you scratched the back of your neck.

you glanced over at the desk, eyes focused on the petals as you thought of a way to get them without tighnari noticing.

of course, the minute you glanced away, he knew.

and that must mean-

you intended to use them on him? oh, tighnari wished he could say something.

but oh, was he intrigued to see where this path would lead...

and so, he conveniently stood up, excusing himself to the restroom and allowing you to rush and add the petals to the tea. he could hear you clumsily dumping them into his cup, crushing them up.

it was almost endearing in a way to think you wanted to use a love potion on him. how could you not realize you had tighnari wrapped around your finger.

if you had asked tighnari sweetly enough to visit mondstat with you, he would have. if you asked tighnari for another inazuman ink bottle, you'd have one by the next morning. if you asked tighnari to carry you back to his home to visit with collei, he would be more than happy to find a way to do so.

he waited just long enough for you to figure out the petal situation before walking out, adjusting his hair and tail. "oh, is the tea ready?"

"yes, you have perfect timing as always it seems." you laughed as tighnari sat down across from you.

you lifted the kettle, carefully pouring two cups of tea, setting the kettle down and moving his cup to his side. "there we go. i hope you like it- when i was in mondstat i got some flowers for the tea. my friend says they're supposed to be very sweet, and they make tea smooth." you lied through your teeth, praying to the archons that this love spell somehow did work.

you watched as tighnari lifted the cup to his lips, blowing on the liquid before tasting some. it was indeed sweet, unlike most of the bitter brews he makes. "it's very good. a unique sugary taste. maybe i'll have to visit mondstat myself." tighnari hummed, taking larger sips of the tea and watching as your eyes grew comically wide.

"wow, i'm glad you like it so much!" you raised your cup to your lips, feigning a sip as tighnari pretended not to notice. you brushed the hair away from your face, feeling hot as tighnari leaned in closer towards you.

your lips parted, though no words came out as tighnari's nose touched yours. "can i ask you something?"

"anything." you breathed out.

"did you really feel the need to give me a love potion? isn't it obvious i already like you?"

your mouth dropped as you scrambled backwards. "what- i, no, no i didn't- well...it's not what you think, i'm so sorry-"

"i'm not." tighnari shrugged, downing the cup. "i was waiting for you to realize how much i care for you. it isn't easy coming all the way here, you know. especially when it's dark. it isn't easy getting inazuman commodities or fancy sweaters from snezhnaya, you know."

tighnari's words made your face feel hot as you pressed your palms to your cheeks. "why didn't you just say something before?"

"because you're cute when you're flustered." tighnari admitted, surprised at his own boldness. maybe those petals really were affecting him differently due to his anatomy?

you let out a gasp, watching tighnari slowly approach you, crawling closer, almost like a predator stalking his prey.

"tighnari-" you called out to him, feeling him lean over you. his body was warm, radiating heat as you suddenly shook out of your stupor. "tighnari, you feel really hot- i mean warm! you must be sick or something, oh archons, what if i poisoned you. stupid, stupid, i knew i shouldn't have trusted venti." you tried to pull tighnari up, yet he wouldn't budge, instead firmly gripping your chin and tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"i can tell that love potion isn't doing what you thought it would hm?" tighnari dragged his thumb across your lip, feeling you lean closer to him. "i planned this whole trip to confess to you, honestly. but i think this is a lot more exciting, don't you?"

"tighnari, i've never seen you like this before." you admitted, eyes starry as you gazed up at him. your thighs rubbed against eachother slightly as tighnari suddenly closed his eyes and groaned.

"fuck, i can smell your arousal." you watched as tighnari's pants slowly formed a tent, ears pressed back to his head.

his eyes opened, looking slightly different than before. he almost seemed feral in a way as he suddenly began tearing off your clothes, claws ripping through fabric as you clung onto his shoulders.

he pressed feverish kisses into your skin, pulling your core down against his lap and rutting against you while stripping your form.

how you ended up on your back, knees pressed to your chest was anyone's guess.

you had already come once from him fingering you, licking at your clit and rubbing against your g-spot in the most perfect way, sending you over the edge quickly.

now, he had you underneath him, cock pushing in and out of you at such a rapid pace it had your head spinning. tighnari was mumbling under his breath, almost growling as he fucked into you harshly, heavy balls slapping against your skin.

you cried out for him, tightening as he came deep inside of you. it was thick, dripping out of your hole as you tried to take shallow breaths, gasping as he suddenly started moving again. "what-"

"oh, someone miscalculated their dosage, hm?" tighnari laughed, pressing down harder on the backs of your thighs and fucking you with fervor, grinding into your sweet spot until he had you coming around his cock, trembling beneath him.

he gave you barely any time to recover, playing with your clit and fucking you faster as you sobbed for tighnari, body teetering between extreme pleasure but overstimulation.

you cried out his name, feeling his teeth press along the column of your neck. you arched, allowing him full access to the skin as he hummed his approval, biting down into your skin with the intent of leaving his mark.

you felt him collect the mix of your cum leaking around his dick before coming back to play with your clit, feeling your body shake as he threw you into another orgasm that sent him into his own, filling you up again. his cum leaked out from your hole, though he tried to use his dick to plug it up inside you.

tighnari growled, discontented with the way his cum flowed out of you. "it has to stay in there-" he huffed, beginning to fuck you again as you whined.

"tighnari, wait! slow down- i-"

tighnari silenced you by pressing a deep kiss onto your lips. "it's okay, dear. it's alright. you can take it, i know you can. be a good girl." he smiled, pressing deeper into you, gripping your body and leaving indents from his nails as he grinned wickedly. "good girl."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x you #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

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tarot-archives · 4 months

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Sea otters— Laios Touden

fluff | gn reader

happiness is in these moments of complete surprise. summer in northern europe was supposed to be hot, but standing outside at 19 °C weather is difficult for a tropical person. your hands rubbed raw as you try to make yourself warm. laios was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. he wasn’t the kind to be late.

but just as your anxieties were beginning to take hold, he arrived with that boyish sunshine grin. and of course, being the local of this scandinavian island, he’s wearing a one-piece shirt and a plain uv jacket.

he apologizes for his tardiness but soon he stops as he sees you shiver, “are you cold?” laios removes his jacket and drapes it over you, “it was a bit warm today. i didn’t think you’d be shivering.”

“this is warm to you!? achoo!”

his hands immediately reached for your freezing ones to provide a bit of warmth as an apology.

“let’s get you somewhere warm,” your friend cups your hands with both of his palms like he’s offering to a prayer—sinful, begging for forgiveness. he blows his hot breath as respite waiting for your response.

you give him your approval, so he walks with you to the nearest cafe for a hot drink. he doesn’t let go, he doesn’t pull to make you uncomfortable. his movements were calculated, focused, and so much, very much afraid. his self-consciousness too was a trigger response for him.

he doesn’t let go, even as you two wait for each other’s order. his palm offering relief as he pushes through the shame of his recent fault. and as you were about to pull away for a moment, to excuse yourself to the restroom, his thoughts ran out.

“did you know when sea otters are tired they hold hands with each other to avoid being swept away by the tide when they sleep?” laios runs his mouth at the fact. “it makes them feel very safe. don’t you think that’s a cool fact?”

you entwined your fingers with his, instead of excusing yourself. you can tell he’s afraid of the idea that you were pulling away because of him. but it could never be that. your hand squeezes in reassurance because it feels like if you let go, the current of loneliness and misunderstanding will sweep him away all alone.

“i find it cute, actually,” you smile, the warmth spreading to your body with his gesture.

from then on, laios made sure to meet up with you in warmer shops. in his mind, he waits until the climate gets cooler, to find a new excuse to hold your hand again.

Requests? Open!

#laios touden x reader #laios x reader #laios touden x y/n #laios touden x you #laios x you #laios x y/n #dungeon meshi x reader #i saw the beastars part about otters so i <3

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bunnysbrainrot · 3 months

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SPN Summertime Headcanons:

We all know it’s hot as hell outside right now, so here’s what I think beating this heat would look like with our Supernatural favs:

Sam:

- Enjoys a good hike, but he tries to find routes with creeks and water holes to cool off and splash around.

- Always carries extra water (it’s hot out here! Gotta hydrate!)

- He loves picnics, especially when he can prepare the food and see the joy on your face, seeing everything prepared for you

- Anything scenic, and if he stumbles upon a flower field, just know that the ones he’s picking are for you

Dean:

- Driving in Baby with the windows down, he lets you choose the music (because the way you smile through each lyric is hypnotizing to him)

- Ice cream dates! Dean hates the muggy weather, so nothing better than to cool off with a sweet treat

- Asks you to wear those ‘pretty little dresses’ (literally just sundresses)

- Sitting under the stars on a mild summer night, laying on Baby’s hood, naming constellations as best you can (he fails terribly)

Castiel:

- Wants to help the moment you mention you’re too hot (“Are you well? Are you certain? I can acquire some water, if you’re in need”)

- Takes you to the most remarkable beaches he’s seen in his time; he loves to see the wonder in your eyes

- Knows the most secluded, beautiful spots to see the sunsets, and of course he brings you home before it gets too late

- Doesn’t understand sweet treats, but knows that you love them, so you might find your favorite frozen snacks in your freezer :)

Crowley:

- Now THIS is where the luxury comes in

- We all know that those new swimsuits he bought you are just for show, but it sure is pretty packaging

- Elegant dinners in the cooler evenings. He loves the ones near the ocean, when the breeze flows through your hair as the sun dips below the horizon

- Whenever he has free time, the two of you are enjoying the summer weather across the world!

—

What other characters would you like to see headcanons for? Your input helps me create my lists for future posts!

(More works to come shortly! Been working a lot lately, and the summer heat is getting me a bit fatigued!)

#fanfiction #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #crowley spn #supernatural headcanon

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katsheadinclouds · 2 months

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Like a sun, shining late at night

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie works in a coffee shop where you have been coming for the last few months. The crush from the first time he ever saw you is bubbling over on the hottest day of the summer.

warnings: Frankie and reader are in their twenties, small town vibes, pining, fluff, kissing, no use of y/n, reader has no pronouns and wears a dress, the picture in the header is just for the visual and isn't an indication of the reader's skin color. Not beta read.

word count: 9.3k

notes: Happy Frankie Friday! I wrote this for @secretelephanttattoo 's secret springs creative challenge and it's purely self indulgent. I'm graduating from university next month and the idea for this fic came from that. This also falls more in to the first week's theme, but I didn't have time to finish this until now. I hope you'll enjoy!

Dividers by saradika

”Frankie, can we switch, I need a break,” his coworker whines in a hushed tone, leaning against the wall. She has the gift of puppy dog eyes that she has perfected over time and uses only when absolutely necessary. No one can say no to her.

Frankie dries his hands on a too wet hand towel; the break doesn’t come a moment too late. He just finished cleaning the cabinets in the kitchen that’s more like a shoebox than an actual kitchen.

Their boss was right. Times like these, when waves of customers aren’t pushing in through the door, is the perfect time to clean. The narrow space of the shoebox-kitchen in a heatwave is an experience Frankie wouldn’t mind skipping though.

His skin is sticky and little droplets of sweat have formed into big splotches of wet fabric on his t-shirt, stretched across his shoulders and upper back. The electric fan in the cramped corner is barely functioning and begs to be replaced in a weather like this.

“The kitchen is all yours,” Frankie gives the damp rag to the younger coworker and sees her eyes light up when he relieves her from the front of the coffee shop. She might handle the humidity a bit better, at least she has enthusiasm to immediately push the damp cloth against the fridge door and find something to furiously scratch off.

Only a couple of tables are taken under the exhausted ceiling fan circling warm air in the cozy café. More people are sitting outside by small round tables under pastel striped umbrellas.

The pink lemonade they make daily from the boss’ recipe is sweating with ice in most customer’s cups, easing the effects of a seemingly endless spell of sweltering heat. The town center has fallen quieter as people are either enjoying their summer holidays by travelling or spending their time at the beach not too far away.

Frankie can’t blame them. Anyone would escape the temperatures in this weather. The ones who are brave enough to stand the scorch from the concrete and minimal shade from any dry trees lining the streets have made their way to cafes with cold drinks and ice creams. The amount of different fresh baked goods, bread and pastries, that are delivered daily have been cut in half just because people are more interested in something light and cold.

The sounds from the street flow into the coffee shop in waves through the open windows and door. Frankie says pleasantries to the few people who come and go and leave their tables for him to empty. He does a few turns outside to bring a straw for a child who dropped his to the ground and to wipe the artisan gelato off the table when someone accidentally knocked over their bowl.

There’s easy music playing from the speakers. They lull him into staring outside, at the people in their airy clothes and sun on their skins. There’s nothing else for him to do other than wait for someone to come in or leave.

The sweat that pushed through earlier sits against his temples and back like a second skin. It’s not going to dry until the sun has set and the night sweeps through the town with cooler air. He listens to the laughter from people sitting outside and the screech of seagulls somewhere nearby.

Some kids skateboard past the café, a few on rollerblades. Few cars drive towards the coast at a crawling pace, pumping out music that shakes the glasses on the shelves lining the walls, turning people’s heads, while some nod to the beat.

This morning, when Frankie got out of the shower with his hair still dripping wet and his skin too stubborn to dry even after toweling, he looked at a t-shirt hanging on the back of a chair. It’s still newly crisp and in need of a few washes. The neckline isn’t worn and stretched from overuse yet, like his usual clothes he wears to work. He has his t-shirts and jeans, and sometimes a cap that his boss always reminds him to take off.

That isn’t the case anymore. He pulled the new t-shirt over his head and decided today would be the day. If you were to come by the coffee shop, that is.

He leans against the counter, doodling on a piece of old receipt; another order of pink lemonade and a sundae. The customer is enjoying them under the shade of one of the pastel umbrellas while reading a book.

Frankie’s curls are enjoying the heat and humidity, the salty air blowing in from the coast making him look like he shouldn’t be standing behind a register in a coffee shop but at the beach by a lifeguard station overlooking the waves. They fluff every time the ceiling fan manages to flutter the air with something that resembles a cooler breeze. A strand tickles his temple, immediately remembering your fingers against his forehead. It was just a simple touch.

“There’s a dandelion seed…” you mumbled last week, when you reached for him over the counter. He was making your drink, focused on pouring the milk into the mug, when like you would’ve done it a hundred times before, your fingers caught the fluff and stayed against his temple a second longer.

“All gone,” you said and continued your story about painting a wall in your childhood home deep green, like nothing had happened.

Frankie drops the pen against the stone counter and touches his fingers against the spot where yours had been. His heart gives a thump and another, the thought of you like cotton candy in his mind.

Everything changed when you walked into the coffee shop with a canvas bag flung over your shoulder.

It was the end of March. The day was grey and windy and people were looking for comfort inside the warmth of the café. It looked like it would rain at any moment, the air even smelled like it. The first time this spring.

You unraveled a thick scarf from around your neck and stopped by the door to take in the café. You took note of the few empty seats and tables, most taken by people working or by those who were on their lunch breaks.

Frankie could only stare at you, with his head going blank, until you took a step forward and you smiled at him. A joyful, eye crinkling smile that comes out easily and stays on your cheeks for a long time.

There was something else to it as well. It wasn’t just the smile that left him dumbfounded. It was the way you lit up from inside first, your skin glowing, your eyes sparkling even on the grayest of days like you held stars in your soul. It was enigmatic, electric, magnetic. Frankie immediately wished to experience it again.

You made your way to the counter and asked Frankie what he’d recommend for lunch.

“You new here?” He asked when he had written down your order and given it to someone working in the kitchen that day. He got to making your drink, a mocha that you gracefully asked to be made with more milk and sugar.

“Oh no, I’m from here but I moved away for college. I don’t get to visit as often anymore as I’d like. But now my last couple of courses are online and I could come back home to finish my thesis.” You took a deep breath and laughed out of nowhere. “That must’ve been exciting for you to hear.”

Your brow arched with the edge of your mouth. He could’ve listened to you read the ten different tea options they had and then he would’ve asked you to repeat them. He would’ve still been hungry to hear your voice more.

“It’s okay,” he said and turned awkwardly from you to steam the milk to hide the blush that crept up to his cheeks. The heat of it burst in waves that showed up across his skin in red splotches.

The milk got done too fast. He thought of anything cold, anything mundane, that would make his blood stream calm down. Just another customer, just another damn customer, he repeated to himself.

He poured the milk gently on top of the chocolate syrup and espresso, folding the foam in on itself to make a pattern on top of the drink. He had made it hundreds of times before, a skill he was proud of, yet now his hand was trembling, and the lines got muddled.

The mug barely made a noise when he set it on the counter, even though his attention was on you eyeing the fat cookies on top of the display cases. You read each label of the options carefully; chocolate chip, white chocolate and cranberry, macadamia and walnut, raisin, triple chocolate, salted caramel, cinnamon and brown sugar, –

“I’ll take one of those lemon and blueberry cookies as well, please.” Your smile got softer when you turned back to him.

“I hope you enjoy it,” he could only say, unsure if he meant the café or the lunch you were about to eat. The cookie looked massive on the small plate he placed next to the coffee mug, reaching high with blue swirls. He was mesmerized by the spark in your eyes and the unsaid mischief in your voice.

You stood in front of him, quiet. Your brows rose slowly and the longer the silence stretched, the more you looked confused.

“Should I wait for the sandwich and pay after or…?” You finally asked and it got Frankie to shake back into action.

“Fu –,” he caught himself just in time to not swear in front of you, even though it made that beautiful smile spill onto your lips again, this time accompanied with a light giggle. His wish came true. Your laugh was just a tip he didn’t expect to get, much more valuable than money in that moment.

“You can pay now, I’ll bring the sandwich to you,” his mouth barely kept up with the words and the moment was over so fast that he wasn’t sure what he had actually told you. But you dug out your wallet and your card and he was tapping on the register to get the right amount charged which he checked twice before you paid.

You accompanied your generous tip with a soft thank you before you collected your drink and cookie off the counter. There was another customer behind you already, forcing Frankie to focus. From the corner of his eye, he saw you sitting by the windows, peeling your coat off and hanging it on the back of your chair.

You sat down and for a fleeting moment he could’ve sworn that you were watching him, still with that smile on your face. When he was done with the customer who came after you, you were already typing on your laptop.

You stayed for hours. So long in fact that Frankie’s shift ended, and other people came in for their evening shifts. You ate your lunch, got another coffee and the same cookie after a few hours, and then kept on sipping on the drink even when it had gone cold long ago.

Your brows were pulled together and at times you leaned closer to read something on the screen of your laptop. You wrote fast. Your fingers flew against the keyboard and at times you stopped just to keep your fingertips hovered over the letters before you kept on going. The sound got drowned out in the steady ambient chatter of the café.

You had a notebook next to you where you wrote a few words here and there. When the café was fairly quiet, he could hear you clicking your pen a few times, then tap it against the half-filled page. A soft, muffled rhythm against the paper.

You rolled your shoulders back and bent your neck from side to side. Every once in a while, you looked out the window, at the darkening day, and the first drops of rain against the glass.

After that day you became a regular at the coffee shop. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday Frankie could expect you to come by. Sometimes you came in early and spent the whole day there. Some other days you came in later and left early, but every time you had lunch and then typed away on your laptop.

Some days you looked more tired than some other days, and some other times your smile was a little dimmer than the others. It still fell on your face easily, but it wasn’t as wide or as energized as he had seen on you usually.

When the days were getting warmer and the sun stayed hung on the sky a little longer, you didn’t come to the coffee shop for two weeks. Frankie was doing his shift, waiting to see you that Tuesday like he normally would. To hear you tell him about your weekend, to hear your voice at all.

His shift ended and you didn’t show up. It left him empty, like something was missing. You had become such a constant at the café that when you broke the pattern, the day seemed off. Maybe you were sick, down with a cold that everyone seemed to have as winter shook from the trees and sunshine forced leaves to bud on the branches.

Then you didn’t come by the next day either. With his coworker Frankie tended to the constant stream of customers who came and went steadily in and out the door. When there was a break, he could only watch the cookies that managed to stay crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. There weren’t many left anymore and your chances at choosing one were getting slimmer every time the door opened, and it wasn’t you who walked in. You didn’t.

When the weekend rolled around, there was a hollowness in Frankie’s chest. He was missing you, as terrifying as that was to admit to himself. He missed seeing you sit at one of the tables by the window where you could watch people as an escape from your work. He had never asked what your thesis was about, how it was going or what made you choose the topic. In that moment he regretted it.

Frankie missed the way you paid attention to what was happening around you. You listened to others, and you started to say hi to some of the other regular customers. Until he noticed you weren’t only paying attention to them but also him.

Sometimes he caught you staring, watching him do his job, follow his moves as he made drinks for customers, wrote down orders and listened to answers for his polite questions about how their day was going. In the beginning, you hastily turned from him in an attempt to not get caught even though he always already had.

He could see you smile when he entertained a toddler by making faces at her while her parents were choosing what to eat. Your brow furrowed and you shook your head when he listened to an older lady shamelessly hit on him.

And then one day you didn’t turn from him when he caught you staring. You stopped hiding your interest in what he was doing. Your cheeks caught the smile on your face and then you got back to your own work.

All those looks, all those smiles, made him want to say he was done for the day and come sit and people watch with you even if you wouldn’t have watched other people, only him.

The next Friday, after another whole week of not seeing you, Frankie didn’t have high hopes for you to show up that day either. It was possible that you had grown tired of the place, of the same sandwich you took every time, the mocha that you usually ordered twice, or the one or two cookies that you always got after careful consideration. Or maybe you were finished with your thesis. Maybe you had left the town again and he was wasting his days daydreaming about you.

The line was long, and the kitchen was overflowing with orders. Frankie had just finished typing one more and had it register in the kitchen when he lifted his gaze to find you standing in front of him.

You didn’t look like yourself. You held your canvas bag in a death grip on your shoulder and you were inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, steadying your breath as best you could. You avoided looking at him and you hid under your clothes.

Your voice was sunken and without your usual animation, the fall and rise of your tone was gone. You didn’t make conversation. You didn’t ask how Frankie’s day had been or if anything unexpected had happened, like you normally did.

“I’ve just had a bit of a hard time lately,” you dropped the façade completely without actually saying anything. You only had to see Frankie’s face once to read the worry from the furrowed brow and the seriousness in his eyes.

His mouth was in a tight line, and he tried to understand you without asking you a serious question. He never had; he didn’t think it was his place even after weeks of friendly banter.

As he was preparing your order, your distress crawled under his skin as well. You opened the light jacket you wore over your sweatshirt, you flinched from the hiss of the espresso machine, and you stood there making yourself as small as you could.

In that moment he decided to get to know you better, to do something about the thump in his chest when you opened the door to the café and to the shivers that ran up and down his back when you stood close enough and he could smell your perfume.

So far, Frankie was harboring a crush across the café, a stolen glance here and a playful look there, an attempted flirty tone in his voice on questions that were too basic to incite any interest or a spark in the corner of his eye. You had captured him without you knowing it, and without him knowing what to do with the swell of happiness every time you were around.

You tried so hard to seem like yourself, but you were on autopilot. You ordered your usual coffee and sandwich. You stared at the foamy milk on top of your mocha. He put too much effort into his attempt at making the leafy shape perfect, only to mess it up and then mess it up even more when he wanted to fix it.

You didn’t say a word about it like you would have if it was like any other normal day. He noticed the short-bitten nails and cuticles on your hand when you paid for your order.

“I’ll bring it to the table,” Frankie told you, watched you nod once and drag your feet against the floor to your usual table. You sat there, staring out the window, your head tilted, and your mind elsewhere. Frankie took heavier steps than usual to alert you, but placing the sandwich in front of you still spooked you out of your head. You tucked your hands between your thighs and let the last bit of steam evaporate from your coffee and the grilled sandwich sit untouched until the fillings looked sad and undesirable.

There was finally a break in the flow of customers. Frankie’s head was buzzing, and his feet were tired. The breather couldn’t have come any later. Yet he didn’t take his break. Instead, he was drawn to observe you like you were a magnet to him. Whatever he was doing, he always made note of you. Something was missing.

“Could I get one of those big cookies?” A customer asked and it clicked instantly in what else was off.

“I didn’t order this,” you told him when he placed the thick chocolate chip cookie next to your laptop that you had managed to get out of your bag. He saw the screen; a text editor open with a margin full of notes and different parts of the text highlighted with red.

“it’s on the house,” he gave you a soft smile, hoping it would ease at least some of the anxiety that had made you look ill while reading through the document on your laptop. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see you burst into tears at any moment.

You thanked him without any sound actually leaving your throat before you got back to reading. He was bothered by the state of you. It made him turn on his heels and take those two steps back that he had put between the two of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He didn’t stop himself to consider before he asked the question, but it got you interested. You looked at him straight in the eyes for the first time the whole day and waited for him to continue.

“Why haven’t you ordered the chocolate chip cookie before?” The cakey cookie draws both of your attention to it and the question takes you by surprise.

“Because I knew I’d like it the most and wanted to save it for something special.” You picked it up and cracked a piece from it. Even Frankie could smell the buttery richness laced with the caramelly sweetness from the brown sugar the baker had once told she uses.

The chocolate was in big chunks, some broken, some sticking out from the piece between your fingers. Instead of taking a bite, like Frankie thought you would, you set the piece down on the small white plate and fixed your attention on him.

“I didn’t know you had noticed, or kept book of what I ordered.” The words came out like a question, but there was nothing for you to ask. You just stated the obvious.

It made the peaks of his cheeks blush instantly. How much more of a creep could he even sound like, asking you about your order. “No one’s ever noticed,” you said a little quieter. Your tone made it sound like you weren’t talking about the cookie anymore. The words held much more weight to them.

“I hope I didn’t overstep any lines, it’s just that you’ve become a regular here, orders are easy to remember after a while.” Frankie watched you break the cookie into even smaller pieces, some of the chocolate falling on the plate.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and a hint of your smile faded across your face. He would’ve missed it if he blinked but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He never can.

“Tell me if you need anything else.”

You ordered one more coffee that day. You didn’t stay as long as you normally would, but when you closed your laptop, you looked a bit calmer. Your shoulders weren’t pulled to your ears anymore and you seemed to be able to breathe without much effort again. You seemed relieved. You waved him bye from the door when you left and the corner of your mouth rose just the slightest, telling him that you’d be okay.

The next time you came in, the next Tuesday, you opened the door and immediately when your gaze landed on Frankie, you glowed. You gave him a chipper, “Hello!” and ordered your usual mocha and sandwich, this time with the salted caramel cookie.

“So, how long have you worked here?” You asked him while he was pouring milk into the steaming jug. After that he gave you pieces of himself to you, answers that were insignificant in context, but they created an image of what he was like.

He told you that he hadn’t worked at the café for that long, but it was a job that he enjoyed. He took care of his mom, which made you ask if she needed to be taken care of. “She’s just getting older,” Frankie smiled to you. He valued his time with his mom, especially after his dad left when he was still young.

At the same time he gently asked you questions too, usually over the counter when he was carefully making your drink and hoping it would last a little longer every time so you’d have more time to answer.

When you came in, he continued the puzzle of you, collecting your words into his memory. How you moved out of the town when you felt the time was right, nothing really holding you back. You went far, but still came back to see old friends and family every few weeks. How you ended up wanting to come back for the rest of your studies, knowing this would be the last time before you’d need to properly start a career and wouldn’t have time to visit as often as you normally would.

There were moments when you would’ve probably spoken for a long time. About your plans for when you were done with your thesis, what festival you were going later this summer, what you still wanted to experience before becoming a full blown adult. “I don’t know why, but I want to go to the beach and have someone cover me in sand.” You laughed when you said that, shook your head and continued, “The problem is that I don’t want to be washing sand off me for a week after that.” It made Frankie crack up as well.

You would’ve told him anything. But then the mocha was ready and he had to set it on the counter and it cut you off immediately. It was like an axe to your words, cutting them short and making you laugh before you collected your thoughts and said, “We’ll continue from here the next time.”

As spring turned into warm early summer, the sun stayed up a little longer and the birds started to sing more as a sign of their little nests getting full, you smiled even more. There was levity in your steps, almost like you could’ve taken one last one and then flown away without looking back. You swapped your long sleeved shirts and jeans to tops and flowy, lighter pants and dresses. There was a glow on your face from the sun and when it rained, you welcomed it with open arms to enjoy the smell of summer arriving.

Every time you came to the café, you brightened Frankie’s day. Seeing you brought a smile on his face, warm richness to his voice, and his eyes always glinted when they found your brightness. You started to call him by his name and every time you said it out loud, he wanted to hear you say it more.

“Frankie!” You exclaimed when you reached the counter after standing in line for a moment. He had already seen you and you had given him a wave of your hand before you got back to tapping on your phone.

“Frankie!” You approached him when there was a break in the stream of customers coming in. You switched in which hand you held your empty water glass in every few seconds. He reached for it but you pulled it back.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you began and cleared your throat. “I have these tickets…”

“Hi, could I ask for something to be changed in my sandwich order?” A middle aged man wearing a pressed suit cut in and pushed you from the counter. You took a step back and gave him all the room he needed. Your shoulders deflated and you stood awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to the other. Frankie listened to the customer while his attention slipped to you.

“Thank you, and sorry,” the man apologized to you before he went back to his table by the corner where he had spread all his stuff.

“He was in a rush,” you joked flatly, staring at the glass in your hand.

“What did you want to ask me?” Frankie took in the nerves on your face and softened his voice. You avoided his attention as he tried to ease the strained energy between the two of you. Instead, you offered him your glass.

“Could I get some more of the raspberry and lime water, the container over there is empty,” you waved your hand towards the water station. Your voice was flat, admitting defeat.

Frankie wanted to know what you had in mind, what tickets you were talking about, he would’ve pushed for it. There was no chance for it though, the moment was over. You took your glass with a quiet, “Thanks,” and returned to your seat, burrowing your head in your work.

“Frankie, are you serious?” You once asked, when you saw the new cookie flavors. White chocolate and strawberry, lemon and raspberry, coconut and ginger, and one that you wanted to save.

“Frankie?” You asked with a lower voice when there weren’t many customers around. He leaned forward instinctively. “Can you watch my stuff for a moment? I have to go make a call.” You waved your phone in the air. He nodded, all words lost when he was lost in your eyes in the closer proximity. He came to collect your empty plate and wipe the few crumbs off the table, and then stood by all your stuff like that was his job.

“Hi Frankie,” you said with mischief in your voice when you leaned against the counter. You didn’t have to tell him your order anymore. He knew it like he was the one ordering it.

“The carnival’s this weekend.” You swallowed after stating the fact.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Everyone knew the carnival season was starting, information about it was plastered all over the town.

He could see the question on your lips, how they opened and closed like you were about to say something. You wet them with the tip of your tongue. Your eyes flicked to the shelves and machines behind Frankie, too nervous to look him in the eyes.

“Are you going?” You tapped your fingers against the speckled stone counter.

“Yeah, with some friends.” Immediately the hopefulness drained from your eyes even though the smile remained.

“That sounds fun. I hope you have a good time.” Whatever you had really wanted to say, or ask, drifted from reach. He wanted to believe you had planned to ask him out but chickened out at the last second.

“Are you going?” He rushed to ask when you refilled your water.

“Maybe.” You bravely held onto the smile even though it was slipping, cracking to show the disappointment that was already lacing your voice. You still waved him goodbye before you left, but you rushed off in a way that he hadn’t seen before.

Frankie straightens his t-shirt against his shoulders and sips at his water bottle. There’s only a couple of people left in the café and closing time is ticking closer. His coworker clatters something in the kitchen, but soon she’s whistling again to the music that she can hear through the speakers.

You would’ve come already, if you were to come to the café today. A sweltering day like this, wasted in a café, didn’t seem like something you’d do. “I can’t wait to hang out at the beach and do nothing all day,” you once said and even the thought made relief flood your smile.

“Frankie, can you come and help me a bit?” His coworker calls. Even though she was only supposed to clean the fridge, she has extended her task to include the cardboard boxes on the top shelves, with different types of napkins inside them. One is balanced against her chest, the other she’s barely able to hold on the shelf.

“I tried to wipe the shelf behind them but didn’t think how heavy they are,” she grunts as Frankie secures the box from her hand. “Thanks,” she sighs.

“And you cleaned the fridge already?” He asks, expecting to see the stuff inside it organized. The door opens to a fridge that looks incredibly like it hasn’t even been touched.

“I’ll get to it right away!” His coworker pushes the door back closed, and him out of the kitchen. “Thanks Frankie!” She hollers but doesn’t get an answer.

“Hi Frankie,” you say, in your strappy short sundress, sunglasses pushed on top of your head. Sweat beads against your forehead. Your skin glistens from the heat and the sun cream he can smell from far away. Sweet peaches.

You have a flower-patterned fan in your hand which you wave towards your face. The space between where your collarbones meet under your neck is wet with sweat trailing towards the neckline of your dress.

“Hi.” He combs his fingers through his hair and takes the necessary steps to meet you by the counter. The question he had on his mind for you this morning drains out of him. He can’t ask you out. He’s convinced it would be weird, it wouldn’t be appropriate. You would probably run away without a second thought.

“I’ve never seen this place this quiet before,” you wonder out loud. The cooler air that you fan against your skin wafts towards him with every push of your wrist. At the same time he can smell you more, that sweet sunscreen that takes him back to his childhood. The hot days when the sand under his feet was too hot, the sunscreen sticky on his skin and the salty water slipping into his mouth with every push of his arms.

“What can I get you?” Frankie asks, not wanting to assume you’ll go for your usual this time.

“Lemonade and…” You look at the cookies and stop in front of the one that you still haven’t tasted. “One of those triple chocolate brownie cookies, thanks.” You fidget with your dress while he pours plenty of ice into a takeout cup and drenches them in the tart lemonade. He chooses a cookie that looks the biggest and fattest.

“You’re not working today?” Frankie asks when he sees a smaller canvas bag on your shoulder and how it’s not bulging with contents as your usual canvas bag does.

“I actually finished my thesis.” You focus on digging out a couple crinkled five dollar bills and push them into the tip jar.

“Congrats.” What else is he supposed to say? His chest fills with disappointment. You said it long ago. You were here to finish your studies and now you’ve done it.

“Thanks.” The silence between the two of you stretches and teases the lines of discomfort. The look on your face matches the bittersweetness on Frankie’s face.

“You’re probably leaving soon then?”

You turn to look at the sweating cup on the counter and swirl your straw through the ice. You nod before you open your mouth, “Yeah, in a couple of weeks. I’m on holiday until then.”

“I’m happy for you,” and Frankie truly is. He saw how much you worked in the past few months. You’ve earned to have a breather before you’re thrown into work. “I hope you’ll come and visit again.”

“Of course.” You smile that genuine smile that is nothing but you. It’s the first thing that lights up your presence and the last thing he has seen in the past months when you’ve left through the door to go back home.

You take your lemonade and wrap your cookie in a napkin, leaving the plate on the counter, and head outside, under the shade of the sun umbrella. You watch people pass by and bask in the heat while slowly fanning your face and chest. The sun is finally sinking lower and the lower it gets, the faster the temperature seems to ease up. Frankie’s coworker finally emerges from the kitchen, just as it’s time to start closing up. You’re still sitting at the front while Frankie sweeps the floors.

“Hi!” He hears your cheerful voice say to someone. The edge of the broom clatters against one of the table legs, his attention on you and the small child you’re talking with.

Your muted voice carries into the café, the rise and fall of your excitement clear in your tone. You’re showing him something while his mom stands next to you, they’re both listening to your words intently.

Frankie continues sweeping, wanting to be done with work and get out of the sweaty cafe. The child’s high pitched inhale is clear and demands Frankie to look outside again. The air is full of rainbow colored soap bubbles. Some are smaller than the others but they all gleam in the golden sunshine.

The warm breeze carries them easily away from you before you blow on the soap bubble wand again and a burst of new bubbles escape into the air. The child follows the bubbles until they burst in the air. You offer the dripping wand to him, which he takes carefully into his small fist. He blows on it and the bubbles burst straight against your face. You pull back in laughter, wiping soap off your face.

“Frankie?” His boss calls for him, forcing him to meet her in the back.

The back alley is scorching hot, the sun trapped between the brick walls. Frankie drops the trash in the dumpster and takes his bike, the seat hot under his palm. This is the worst time to have his truck at the mechanics, and the only thing on his mind is driving with the windows down.

The air gets immediately cooler when he steps out on the street, the sun umbrellas closed and drooping in the light breeze. One of the seats isn’t empty.

“Don’t tell your coworker I stayed here even though she told me to leave.” You stand up and take slow steps to him. You take your sunglasses off and fidget with them, bathed in gold. You stop right in front of him and your smile pulls crows feet to appear next to your eyes.

Frankie is lost for words. Seeing you here, while he’s not in the café, is different, even though nothing has changed. Your closeness, the shy glances that you try to hide in the sun shining in your eyes while you don’t cover them with your sunglasses awakes those deep thumps in Frankie’s chest again. He’s even more confused when you put them in their case, and the case in your bag, no intention of shielding your eyes.

“Did you forget something?” Frankie’s voice is unsure, full of doubt on why you would’ve stayed after the closing time.

“I wanted to ask if you’re busy?” You swing your canvas bag next to your leg and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. As he stands in front of you, he could swear it’s just the two of you on that street, bathed in the dark rays and the refreshing breeze that the day has been craving for hours. There’s salt in the air, blowing in from the coast.

“No?”

“Would you like to go to the beach with me?” Your voice shakes gently in a way that someone might mistake it for you being cold. Frankie’s heart flies heavily in his chest, the sound in his ears dizzying him into questioning if he heard you right. You beat him to it.

You switch your weight from one sandalled foot to the other and grab your bag with both of your hands. The uncertainty is back. You try to keep on smiling, but it falters the longer he doesn’t answer.

“Forget it—” You raise your hand in the air and are ready to wave it in the air to dismiss your question completely.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Frankie snaps out of his reeling head, shutting you up in an instant. His hands sweat against the seat and handle of his bike. His mouth is dry and the pit of his stomach is filled with butterflies.

How long he has contained them, but you broke the jar with one question, filling him with the good kind of anxiety. He knows that whenever he gets nervous, he shuts down. Just like the first time he saw you, the first time you visited the café, his shyness takes center stage in how he acts. He gets quiet, his brain short circuits. No one else has been able to do that in a long time, no one else but you.

This time, seeing you standing in front of him practically radiant in the setting sun and by your happiness, he doesn’t want to lose any second of that to his reserved being.

“Hop on,” Frankie tells you gently.

“What?”

“I’ll ride us there.” He emphasizes the words by climbing on his bike, the seat still too warm even through his shorts.

“Okay,” you laugh and push your bag on your shoulder. Frankie offers you his hand, yours slotting with it like it has always belonged there. What he doesn’t expect is your other hand to land on his shoulder, holding on dependently as you swing your leg over the rear rack. You squeeze the muscle there, your fingertips digging into the tightness under his skin.

“Wait,” you say, and pull your hand back from his. Frankie misses the contact immediately, the imprint raising moisture from his palm. Your sandals scuff against the ground and the bike sways just a little as you find at least somewhat comfortable seat.

Your both hands are pressed against his shoulders, hanging from him awkwardly. Your hands are hot, gripping to him, and it makes his head spiral.

“Ready?”

“Mhm,” but you don’t sound sure at all. Immediately when the bike bumps on a crack in the pavement, no matter how much he tries to avoid them, you let out a sound somewhere between a screech and a yelp, your hands shaking and your balance flailing. Frankie’s feet are against the ground immediately.

“Okay, this won’t work. Wrap your arms around my middle, it’s more secure.” You don’t say anything for a beat, he only hears a light chuckle.

“More secure you say?” The meaning isn’t lost on him. You could understand his words in many ways, what wrapping yourself around him would imply, and apparently you stuck with exactly the one that suggests something else than riding a bike.

“You know what I mean,” his voice cracks with unintentional humor.

“Do I?”

“Yes, now just trust me.” You fix your chuckles and sigh out. Your breath fans against his back. You lower your hand from his shoulder, drag it against the muscle closest to his spine, and leave a trail of sparks that burst into goosebumps all over his body, every nerve ending awake and alert. Your hand rounds against the softness of his side, and over to his middle.

“Is this okay?” The question is full of uncertainty even though you’re trying to hide it under the smile he can hear in your voice. His confirmation gives you enough confidence to bring your other hand on him as well, tightly wrapping around him, securing you against him.

“You want to try again?” Frankie hears the drop in his voice and the slight tremble that your closeness causes. He can’t trust his voice at all, when you squeeze closer to him, your chest glued to his back.

“Yes.” You lift your feet off the ground and Frankie gets to pedaling.

You let out a squeak as the bike twitches into movement but relax against the broadness of Frankie’s back. The blowing breeze cools your skin and brings much needed relief for Frankie to keep his focus on the street and not in your hands that twine together around him in such confidence that it makes his stomach drop.

In the traffic lights you drop your feet against the ground at the same time as Frankie does and pull them back up when the light turns green. The salty water gets closer with every turn of the wheels. Streetlights flicker on and a deep blue mass swells across the sky behind you.

The sun colors the horizon in rusty yellows and oranges, the deepest parts already red that fade into the nearing night. Seagulls laugh somewhere up above, and the breeze turns cooler towards the sands that you’re already waiting to have under your feet.

You squeeze Frankie’s t-shirt into your palm, to hold onto him and to keep him close. There’s not much traffic around, some cars here and there, and the quieter it gets the more Frankie can hear the nerves talking to him in his head. For all he knows this could be a dream, after months of pining after you.

You gasp out loud when you see the sea. The horizon bathes in the last sunlight, wispy, blue and purple clouds swirled in like in the cookies you’ve been eating. Your hands untangle around Frankie and rest softly against his back. You’re pulling back, letting go, and the emptiness is already settling in with how he misses your touch.

Your feet brush up against the sandy ground and you’re off his bike, off him, drawn to the ocean. The metal chain clangs against a railing as Frankie locks his bike to it, eager to follow after you.

You stand in the ocean, the waves splash against your ankles, and you look like a vision. Frankie sits further back in the warm sand. His toes bury deeper in, and the remnants of the heat keep him grounded. He doesn’t care if it gets under his clothes and if he’ll find it for days to come. It’ll be a reminder of this night.

There’s a bonfire that crackles and sparks embers into the air, some people around it laughing. They’re making smores, the burnt smell of sugar wafting through the salt for a second. You point out a boat in the distance, the lights clear against the darkening sky. The waves crash in mellow waves against the sand, leaving white fine froth on it.

A fancy restaurant by the beach has a live band playing easy jazz, the sounds from the soft saxophone and the piano drifting towards the water. You stand in the foamy waves, watching your feet get devoured by the dark that ebbs and flows.

Frankie holds on to your bag and sandals and watches you against the rusty sky. He could watch you until it was completely dark and even then, he could make out the silhouette of you against the night sky.

“I’ve always loved the sea,” you say with your voice somewhere between a whisper and a soft sigh when you make your way back to dry land, like you were dreaming and wouldn’t want to break the spell or wake up. You don’t hesitate to sit next to Frankie, your thigh brushes against his.

“Thanks for coming here with me, I didn’t know if you’d want to.” It’s easy to lose himself in you. In the gentleness of your voice. Now in the warmth that pulls him in closer to you, searching for more contact with you.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I guess I’ve been scared that I’ve read you wrong.” You swallow and lick your lower lip between your teeth. He might not be the only one who has been shy this whole time. Your confidence comes and goes, sparks every few moments and then gets replaced by a timidness that holds you back. You can’t face him. You can barely let your voice be heard over the lapping waves and the music from the restaurant.

“How do you think you’ve read me then?”

“That maybe…” You stop yourself. You play with the hem of your dress. The fabric bunched against your bare thighs. “I’ve been a bit scared to be forward, maybe, just because I wasn’t sure what you thought of me. That maybe I was reading the signs wrong, it wouldn’t be the first time, you know. That maybe, possibly, you might… I don’t know…”

Listening to you try to wade your way to the point through the waves of your nerves is endearing, while it’s also pushing Frankie to smile. His crush for you is pulling it out of him with the heat that spreads from his chest up to his neck and cheeks.

“I mean I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” You finally admit and the crush he has been holding onto blooms into a garden. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes but I had to ask. I had to know if maybe… you would’ve wanted to ask me out as well.” The words are out. You drop your hands and everything you wanted to say is now out in the open. It doesn’t erase the butterflies that flutter somewhere between the two of you, but finally having the truth out does bring out a safe peacefulness, something he can lean on.

“Hmm,” he hums out a breath. Words have left him completely. The warmth of your skin close to his is reminder enough for him to keep his head focused, his eyes on you and his heart from flying from him. He moves his leg just a little to get it pressed against yours. You’re waiting, your eyes on him, your body turned towards his.

“I wanted to ask you out the first time you came to the shop.”

The words take you by surprise. A smile spills on your lips. You try so hard to contain it, but hardly manage to keep yourself from laughing out loud.

“Why didn’t you?” Your eyes are tearing up, either from the breeze or the release of nerves. One lands on your cheek. Frankie is quick to reach his thumb out and catch it. The tear rolls down to his palm, heavy and beautiful, leaving behind a streak that gleams in the last rays of the sun. He closes it into his hand and spreads it onto his skin with his fingers.

“I’ve never been good at seizing the moment or being brave. I didn’t want to be a creep.”

“So, you’ve let me be a creep? Watching you work, coming in every other day?”

“But you’ve been working.”

“My thesis has been done for a while. If I was there only for that, I would’ve stopped coming about six weeks ago.” Laughter bursts from you and Frankie in disbelief. The more you laugh, the more the indifference he convinced you were feeling reveals to be plain blindness.

You press your forehead against his shoulder, a gesture he doesn’t expect but also isn’t surprised by. You’re in his space, on him, never breaking a boundary, but wanting to absorb him as much as you can.

“What have you been doing then?”

“Applying for jobs, reading different forums and articles, sometimes nothing.” He holds his hand out and like earlier, yours fits against it like it belongs there. It’s not just a simple touch anymore though. It’s revelation of what you’ve been hiding. It’s hope for something to come out of it. Whatever will happen might just be a short fling. Or maybe it’ll be the beginning of something Frankie hasn’t had before.

Frankie takes you home. The energy is different as the night has fallen above the town. The air has turned balmy promising a mighty thunderstorm in the coming days. It doesn’t stop you from pressing yourself against his back, sticking to him with your arms around him. He doesn’t mind it, neither do you. You only push in closer and hold on tighter.

“Thanks for the ride home.” You fix your dress and stand in front of him. Your eyes drift to his lips, and you wet yours.

“Sorry for the uncomfortable seat, I’ll have my truck back next time.” Your reaction is worth every word. The soft smile, the drop of your gaze, the hand that reaches for his and twines with his fingers loosely swaying back and forth.

“Next time,” you repeat back to him, the words hanging as a promise in the air. They’re wings to his heart that soars into a fast beat, excited for whatever’s to come and nervous of the same prospect.

“I better get going.” Your eyes still flit to stare at his lips.

“I’ll wait here, make sure you get home safe.”

“The door is right there.”

“I’ll still wait.” You reluctantly let go of his fingers and take a step back, then another before you turn from him. Frankie rests his hands on his thighs and waits. You dig your keys out and stop. Maybe you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

The sound of your sandals against the concrete is loud in the quiet. You have a new kind of bravery in your steps when you come back.

“Would it be completely inappropriate if I kissed you?” Frankie’s heart is in his throat. He shakes his head, giving you permission to step even closer.

You lean in but you don’t rush into it. You bring your hot palm against his cheek, and further in to tangle your fingers into the hairs at the base his neck. Your first move is to press your forehead against his and take a breath.

Your chest rises and falls steadily when you close your eyes. He presses all the details of your face into his memory from such close proximity. Your lashes, the faint lines next to your eyes, the plumpness of your cheeks, the curve of your mouth which you breathe a heavy sigh from. Your nose nudges against his, as a final sign for him to throw away his insecurities.

Your lips press against his slowly, so soft it leaves room for so much more. Your kiss is a breath and Frankie needs to chase it to keep his lungs filled. It’s easy to deepen the kiss, to have your lips slot with his, to feel the tip of your tongue tease his bottom lip just to test how he reacts.

You press in closer, just to get Frankie to pull you in even more. The bike under him wobbles as he moves to hold you closer, from you pressing your weight against him, yet somehow, he’s the most secure he’s ever felt in anyone’s embrace. A sighed out moan vibrates in your throat and your hand tugs at the curls on his head. And then it’s over.

Too soon, yet just at the right moment. He wants more, his body craves you, and the blown out pupils in your eyes under the orange street lights is enough to tell him that he’s not the only one. You lick the moisture from your lips, the signs of his mouth from around them, and pull your hands back. The smile that he has learned to want to see appears again, this time with the heaviness of unadulterated lust on your skin. You’re an ember in front of him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you pledge and give him one more soft touch of your lips against his. Frankie doesn’t want to let your lips go and chases after them with the kiss still on his lips. You giggle and pull away.

Frankie’s hand slides from the back of your thigh, right under the hem of your skirt and slips off your skin with heat etched onto it. His fingertips are sensitive from holding onto you so tightly, from wanting to have you.

You give him one last look from the door, and you fix your dress on the thigh he was holding. Your own fingertips brush against where his hand was resting, excited and like it was his place to touch. He hears your tender laugh accompany the wave of your hand, before you disappear from view. He brushes his fingers through his hair with the hand he held you with, the scent of your sunscreen tattooed on his palm now forever etched to his memory.

#secretsprings #frankie friday #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #katsheadincloudswrites #like a sun shining late at night

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lionhanie · 3 months

Text

riwoo as your boyfriend! ♡

fluff, boyfriend riwoo x gn reader!

word count: ~760

warnings: none

a/n: been having a severe case of boyfriend riwoo thoughts like i desperately need to keep him in my pocket

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

never ending source of laughter and (really bad) dad jokes but he’s cute so you always end up smiling regardless

the effect he has on the members is practically ctrl c + ctrl v when he’s with you

nobody can deny that he has some BANGERRRRR jokes but when he’s always trying to make ‘em…. its inevitable that some will miss LMFAOOOO but he’s lucky to have you as his partner, because you always end up giggling when he looks to you when a joke flops

everyone will groan when you’re all hanging out and riwoo pulls the corniest play on words known to man, meanwhile you’re on the sidelines facepalming as you chuckle into your hand. “see, y/n understands how funny i am!” he boasts, feeling super full of love knowing he always has you to laugh at his jokes aw :,((((

i think he would literally have sparkles in his eyes every time you compliment him. he loves being praised by his partner!!!!! especially if we’re talking about something he’s worked really hard on or is particularly proud about

you’re in the practice room with him, sitting on the floor and leaning against the mirror as you watch your boyfriend replay the same section of the song he’s been trying to choreograph for HOURS. even though it’s getting late, you’re completely mesmerized by the way he moves, his intricate facial expressions, and his (super cute) look of frustration when he isn’t quite satisfied with the steps he just made

“ah, this doesn’t look right. i feel like my flow is all off today,” riwoo groans as he lays flat on the floor next to you, splayed out like a starfish. “maybe i should just restart tomorrow. should we go home now, y/n?”

“mm, i thought you looked really cool though? that footwork you did for the chorus was amazing, it’s crazy to think you came up with it just now!” you’re deep in thought as you give him your two cents, finding it easy to compliment him when he’s just /so talented/ in the first place. “i don’t think you should get rid of everything you worked so hard on, but maybe you should get some rest so you can clear up your doubts about it!”

riwoo can feel his ears burn at your never-ending praise, cheeks starting to hurt from smiling too hard at your words. “okay, if my sweet y/n thinks i did a good job, then i must’ve really come up with a great choreo this time. come on, let’s go eat~!”

methinks he’s big on rlly casual dates! stuff like staying at home and playing games, going on walks together, cafe hopping across the city, things along those lines :3

ooommmmfffgggg like. i’m thinking about enrichment time w riwoo LOLLLLL. it was a long day & you’re both just washed up laying next to each other on your shared bed just . scrolling on your phones. not a word said to each other for Lord Knows how long…except for the occasional poke to your shoulder bc riwoo wants to show you the funny dog vid he saw on his instagram explore feed… the two of you are just so content being at home together in comfortable silence that neither of you really mind that it may not seem particularly “exciting” to many

if you aren't staying in, riwoo loves going on walks with you, especially a little bit after the sun finishes setting. the weather’s a lot cooler without the sun, there’s less people out and about, and the mixtures of pinks, purples, and oranges from the sunset linger in the sky still -- and he has you! your fingers are interlocked as he swings your hands back and forth as you walk and talk about your days </3

okay…..now just IMAGINE what riwoo would be like if he had a s/o who worked at a bakery/cafe/pastry shop

first of all. riwoo would be all DOE EYED every time u left for work n just being like … “could you maybe… bring home any leftover pastries if there are any today? to make up for the fact that you're LEAVING ME ALL ALONE for a couple hours >:(” literally BEGGING u to bring him home something with his eyes awh

when you come home after your closing shift, he engulfs you in a huuuuge hug that lasts for maybe…. 5 minutes…. mainly because you smell like SWEETS and he literally wants to Eat You bc you smell so yummy LMAO

im convinced this would be his DREAM PARTNER because wdym he can just waltz on into the store when 1) he misses you and 2) he can get his sweet tweat AT A DISCOUNT bc ur working… oh you're just so perfect for him! :,)

he is SO HAPPY to support you in any way that he can, without a doubt

i feel like you’d text him like “baby i’m really dreading work today :(“ and then when you’re on your break riwoo is there to visit! and he brought you snacks so that you aren’t too hungry by the time your shift ends; you can’t deny that his presence alone makes working a little more bearable, def gives you the motivation to keep going so you can quickly go back home to ur sweet boyfie

or if you’re feeling a little unconfident about the big test you have coming up, so you need to spend a couple hours studying every night-- i just KNOW riwoo is sat at the table with you for that mental support. you’d go through flashcards together, him quizzing you on each one and literally jumping in joy when you /finally/ get a term you’ve been struggling with correctly (he has no idea what he’s testing you on, but he’s just happy to be there for you!)

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heyitsme1040 · 11 months

Text

Winter's Soldier [b.b]

summary : When it came to the cold, Bucky hated it. Before the train he tolerated it, understood why people enjoyed winter. But ever since he fell from the train, he despised the cold. Once winter fully set in, he became antsy and didn’t want to be too far from you. It wasn’t until he returned from a hard mission that he finally opened up about his dislike of the cold to you.

pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings : None, talk of Bucky losing his arm (if I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 1,200

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day four of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘warmth’. So this one turned into a comfort/angst/comfort sandwich. But still, I really like how this one turned out. You can also tell I’ve mentally lingered on what it would’ve been like for Bucky after falling before being found. This is an idea I’ve lingered on for years, and here’s a glimpse into that thought process. Also I wanted the ending to be really cheesy and fluffy, so sorry if that isn’t your cup of tea.

You weren’t expecting much when you entered your apartment after running errands. Bucky was gone on a mission, due to return soon, but you weren’t quite sure when. Closing the door behind you, you toed off your shoes by the door before pulling off your coat. As soon as you removed your coat, you were pleasantly surprised by how cozy the apartment was. Walking into the living room, you couldn’t help the startled yelp that escaped you when you realized the pile of blankets on the couch was your boyfriend.

“Hi doll,” Bucky tiredly greeted.

“Bucky, hi! When did you get back?” You walked toward him.

“Just a little bit ago. I was about to call you, I just got out of the shower then turned on the heater. How was your day?”

As you got closer to him he held his arms out, opening up the cocoon of blankets he’d wrapped himself in. He was quick to tug you into his lap and wrap the both of you back into his blankets. He held you tightly, nuzzling himself against you as close as possible.

“It was fine. I finished that prototype in the lab today. Then I went to the mall to see what they were putting out for christmas. I know it’s only November, but I don’t want to wait until the last minute again to get gifts for everyone. I feel like everyone knew I’d put off doing it until it was almost too late,” you kissed his cheek.

“Nah, everyone loved your gifts. Steve’s honestly upset that he’s almost worn down every pencil from that sketch kit you chose and bought three more of those sketch books since. Sam wears the watch every day, Tony cherishes the little robot friend you made and keeps it on his workbench, and Nat keeps the knives you’d got customized sharp. There’s no way they have any idea you’d done it all the week before,” Bucky reassures.

You shrug, pleased they all still enjoyed the things you’d gotten them. “Still, I feel guilty. But how are you? How’d the mission go, I know you had to leave suddenly.”

“The mission itself was successful. However, I hated being in Europe again. I swear it’s just gotten colder since the forties. I hated it, there was so much snow when we got there. It just continued snowing every day too, so there wasn’t any way we could avoid it,” Bucky grumbled.

You felt Bucky shiver harshly. Despite the cozy temperature he had the apartment at, the four blankets on the two of you, and the fact he was radiating heat it was like he couldn’t be warm enough. You carefully slipped your hand from the cocoon of blankets and stroked his cheek. He turned to kiss your palm quickly before using his own hand to pull yours back into the warmth around the two of you. You couldn’t tell if the reason Bucky was a little tense was due to him feeling cold or if there was something else going on.

“Yeah, the cold can be pretty bad sometimes. I like the cooler weather at the start of fall, but once it’s winter time I can’t stand it. It’s just too much with all the snow. The way it first lands is mesmerizing, sure, but then it melts into slush before more snow falls. Then everything is just an icy, damp, cold mess,” you admit.

“It used to not be so bad,” Bucky quietly whispers against you. “The cold was horrible, but the way New York looked and came to life in the winter was breathtaking. I loved the way the snow fell and made everything look so different. And my sister was always so excited when the snow fell. But after everything, I can’t stand the cold nor the snow anymore.”

“Oh Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

“It’s alright, doll. At first it wasn’t too bad. I’d just fallen, and landed in this deep pile of snow. The coldness actually made everything numb at first. I tried to move, to sit up, but I couldn’t. That was the moment I first saw my arm wasn’t–” Bucky shook his head as he choked up. “I tried to yell for help, but knew it was useless. Despite this, I shouted until my voice was gone. The cold had moved from providing a numbness to painful. I felt myself slowly slipping into something. I’m not sure if it was just unconsciousness or if those were meant to be my final moments. I’d finally heard the crunching of snow and ice as people approached. I thought that it was Steve, that they’d gotten Zola and he’d somehow found me again. But I was so wrong. I was roughly yanked from the snow before the unconsciousness took over. The next time I woke up was in a lab with Zola over me.”

Bucky harshly blinked, and you could tell he was refusing to let the memory take any more from him. You held onto him tightly, gently promising him you’d never let him go cold again. He slowly relaxed into you.

“I’m sorry,” he sheepishly breaks the comforting silence. “That’s why I’ve been so weird about the apartment recently. I just, I keep thinking about what it’s like to truly be cold. So now, when the weather is chilly I feel this prickling under my skin. I do everything possible to make sure it isn’t cold here, that you won’t be able to feel the cold. Because it wasn’t bad at first, and now I can’t stand the idea of the cold. It’s just that, I know it isn’t cold in here but I can’t stop from thinking about how cold it is outside. And how easily the cold can just get colder to the point it feels like you’re burning up. And that thought just won’t go away.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand, and your feelings are more than valid Buck,” you reassure. “I am more than happy to stay cuddled up with you all winter if that will bring you some comfort.”

Bucky slinks an arm under your knees and supports your back as he stands, “In that case,” he smirks while walking to your shared bed. “I think a change of scenery is due.”

You smile at your sweet boyfriend, the one that so many think is cold. They couldn’t be any more wrong about this sweet, caring, protective man. He laid on the bed, pulling you onto his chest before covering the two of you up again. You bury your face into the warmth of him, lightly rubbing his side in aimless patterns. Doing anything you can think of to remind him he’s far away from the snowy mountains of 1945. Gradually, Bucky’s body grows more and more lax under your touch. His breathing feels the steadiest it’s been since the cold weather came in.

“You're my warmth,” he tenderly swears.

“And you’re mine,” you kiss his lips for a long moment. “You don’t have to worry about the cold ever again. Winter’s a battle that you’ve won, Soldier.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky rolls his eyes, chuckling at your cheesy declaration.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

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maddithefangirl · 1 year

Text

Late Night (Azriel x Reader)

Prompt: “I gave you one hundred and one reasons to walk away, yet you never did. Why?” “Because I love you. It’s really that simple.”

a/n: hi! my head is a lot clearer these days and I have been able to write a little bit! Hope y'all are having a wonderful day and enjoy this short piece.

*＊✿❀　 ❀✿＊*

It had been weeks since you had seen your lover, Azriel. The seasons had changed, and the weather was much cooler now. However, it was not Azriel’s choice as he has been working to the bone to finally finish his mission and come home. Come home to you.

A subtle headache ripped through his forehead as he put down his favorite weapon.The air in this chamber was cold as the metal hanging from the wall. Everything had a damp feeling and was just overall unpleasant. Azriel had been interrogating the same band of conspirators for a while now as he puts up his favorite weapon. This session was more intense than the last, and it had taken everything out of him.

Not that he would let anyone see that on his face.

He was hurting. He needed you. Even though you and him were not mated, you still craved each other. It was a hunger unlike any other he had felt. Today was the day that he was going home though, he swore it.

And he was right. That night he had finally pushed away his pride and asked Rhys for some time off. Rhys laughed at him, but ultimately granted him the time. Not without mentioning a few innuendos about why he needed the time. He hadn’t met Y/N yet, no one had. Azriel had kept you as his and his alone since you had been together. He had only told anyone about you until he told Rhys right after the attack on Velaris. He didn’t want anything to happen to you after it all became too real. But this was the first time he had been away from you for more than a couple of days at a time.

It was almost midnight by the time he made it to your shared townhouse. To his surprise, he saw the most spectacular scene before him. You were laying on the couch cuddled in a blanket with a half-opened book turned down in your lap. The light of the fire danced all over your face giving you a magnificent glow. It took him a couple of steps to see you were fast asleep.

He quieted his steps, but that did not seem to matter. You stirred awake as you heard the door open. Startled, you got up and held your book in self-defense at the stranger in your living room. A boisterous laugh bellowed from Az’s lips as he looked at your pathetic attempt to attack him. The smile left on his face was marvelous and left him radiating in the firelight.

You sat back down when you recognized your lover standing in the study, too shocked to stand. He knelt down beside you to get eye level.

“What are you doing out here, little love?” he whispered.

“I do this every night in case you come home,” you replied sheepishly.

He could have sworn that a tear started to well in his eye at that. The female he was constantly thinking about, the one that he loved, waited for him to come home.

“Really?”

“Of course!” You brought a hand up to his cheek caressing it.

“I- I don’t get it. I gave you one hundred and one reasons to walk away, yet you never did. Why?”

“Because I love you. It’s really that simple.”

He pulled her into a hug and let the tear fall freely.

#azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #fluff

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solivagant242 · 26 days

Text

losing you pt. 8

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, losing a relationship, blood, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

Amberly takes a sip from her pumpkin latte, keeping her face patient as her student rambles on about their summer vacation. She glances at the timer. Three more minutes and then this call can be over-

So I can do what? Go home and shut down?

Yeah, pretty much.

She pushes her hair back from her face. It’s still damp from her shower that morning, smelling faintly of lavender from the shampoo. Tiredness is seeping into her bones and filling her up like lead.

I don’t know if I can do this anymore.

Her student finally tells her goodbye and Amberly clicks the end call button, leaning back in her chair and letting relief sweep over her in waves. She takes off her glasses to rub her eyes. Lately it seems like any sleep is not enough, no matter how early she goes to bed or keeps her eyes closed.

Why am I even staying in this?

Her lips tighten. Breaking up had never been a possibility for them- seemed like one, at least. They’ve been dating since second year at Hogwarts. The thought of not being with Remus had simply never crossed her mind. He was hers, her person, who she’d thought cared about her and loved her beyond measure.

Now she’s not so sure.

A hand slams down on the table in front of her and a yelp claws its way out of her throat as she recoils, jerking her coffee towards her and slopping it over her wrist. Amberly glares up at Sirius, her shock being replaced by annoyance. “Pads, you asshole”-

He grins at her. “Would you like some napkins? Sorry for the spill.”

She scowls. “Napkins and a signed apology, please.”

Sirius tosses his jacket over her head. “Any food?”

Amberly shoots him a death glare as she pulls the leather off her hair and throws it on the seat next to her. “I’m not hungry, thank you very much.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You’re getting a sandwich.”

“I don’t want a sandwich.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted one. I said you’re getting one.”

“I didn’t ask if I was getting one. I said I didn’t want one.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, turning on his heel and heading to the counter. “Yap, yap, yap. Too bad.”

“How are things?” asks Sirius a few minutes later, sitting across from Amberly in the booth. He runs a hand through his untidy black hair. “I bet you’re loving this cooler weather.”

Amberly nods. “I am, yeah. I can’t believe winter is coming.”

She wraps her jacket tighter around herself and Sirius narrows his eyes. He’s known Amberly for a long time now, a bit longer even than Remus has known her. And he can tell that she’s lying.

Her eyes are dark and circled with shadows, and her skin looks paler than usual, even in the warm light of the cafe. She’s gotten thinner, too. Visibly thinner, enough for her cheekbones to be more prominent.

Sirius pushes the sandwich at her. “Eat it.”

She scowls at him. “No.”

“Eat it or perish.”

“Perish.”

He unwraps it and shoves it into her hand, and she rolls her eyes before taking a tiny bite out of the corner. Inwardly, Sirius feels relief that she’s eating, but he knows damn well that there’s another reason she looks like she’s been awake for a century and a half.

“How’s Moony?”

The question seems to catch Amberly off guard, and she takes her time to chew and swallow before responding. “He’s okay. More used to the meds, now. I think the full moon isn’t quite as bad for him.”

Sirius tilts his head at her. “Is he? I tried calling a few days ago and he never picked up.”

“Oh.” Amberly picks at a thumbnail, not making eye contact. “He’s not the best with answering his phone and stuff”-

“Stuff it,” retorts Sirius. “This man used to stay up till two in the fucking morning so he could chit-chat with you. It won’t kill him to pick up the phone for his oldest friend”-

“He doesn’t really talk to me anymore,” mumbles Amberly. She half-hopes Sirius won’t hear it. Tears are swimming in her throat and she cannot, will not, let them out. That’s why Remus was mad at me. I was too much. I can’t do that again.

But Sirius’ sharp ears prick at the words. “What?”

She shrugs, setting down the sandwich and staring at her hands in her lap. She doesn’t trust herself to look up.

Sirius leans across the table to touch her hand. “Amberly, you know you can tell me anything, right? Are things okay with you and Moony?”

Amberly bites her lip. She can feel her eyes start to swim and swell with tears. “Things are fine.”

She can’t hide the wobble in her voice.

Sirius drapes her leather jacket over her shoulders and the tears come out, spotting her shirt all down her front and splashing onto the table. She’s shaking now, sobbing harder, and Sirius folds her in his arms and strokes her hair like a sister.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore,” she gasps finally, smearing at her eyes and leaning back. “I was too much. He said I was too clingy. I don’t want to be that again, I can’t”-

Sirius’ hands tighten around hers. “What did he say to you exactly?”

Amberly’s eyes flicker. “He told me that he didn’t want me.” Another sob wells up in her throat as she remembers those words, hurled across space to shatter her like porcelain. “That I was too clingy.”

Sirius pulls her to her feet, jaw tight and eyes dangerously bright. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” asks Amberly, trying to wipe her face and tie her hair back from where it’s sticking to the tears. “I need to pack”-

“I’m getting your stuff and then you’re coming with me to James and Lily’s. You’re not staying with Moony, staying in this state of things,” he seethes. “Not till Moony gets some sense in his head or I beat it into him.”

Amberly stumbles after him to the door.

“Can you drop me off here?” yells Amberly over the roar of the engine.

Sirius looks back over his shoulder. They’re at the stop sign just down the street from her house, his long legs resting on the ground on either side of the motorcycle. “Why? I can take you all the way.”

She slides off the back before he can further protest. “If he’s asleep I don’t want the noise to wake him”-

He got so mad last time when Sirius drove me home. I can’t do that again. I’ll break, I know I will.

Sirius rolls his eyes as she hands him the helmet. “It won’t kill him, you know”-

Amberly shrugs, looking down. “I just don’t want there to be trouble.”

“Fine. But you better be back here in ten minutes or I’m gunning it for your driveway.”

She nods, continuing down the street to their house as Sirius pulls over to the curb.

There’s a hot, heavy pulse in her ears, and her hands feel like they’re tingling. He’ll be mad, I know he will. If he sees me…

All she can see, all she can think of, are memories of her and Remus.

The times they’d gone for night walks down this street, fingers interlocked through wooly mittens…the time they had been to the bakery and brought home fresh bread and hot chocolate…the way he’d picked her up and swung her around every time he came home…the warmth of his arms around her and his cheek on her hair…

Maybe that’s why she doesn’t hear the car coming.

A screech of tires, a dull thud, and Amberly is on the ground. Her rich brown hair threads through the leaves in the gutter as red begins trickling over the dirt.

The driver’s face is white.

They swing the car into reverse, hands shaking, and peel away.

Amberly doesn’t move.

Two minutes later Sirius is kneeling next to her, fingers trembling as he babbles into the phone.

“Nine-nine-nine, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s my friend. She’s dying...”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fanfic #remus angst #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus imagine #remus imagine angst #remus angst imagine #remus x reader #remus x reader imagine #marauders imagine #moony imagine #moony x reader

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blimpintime · 5 hours

Text

jar of wind part three

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, light gore, unedited

word count: 2.1k

eventual eris x oc

The wind helps me reach The Night Court in record time even though it was fighting me the entire way, my satchel holds mine and Eris’s gift for Nyx. A stuffed fox and a hand-crafted wooden play tea set. The weather when I get here is cooler than it was when I left, which makes sense considering Summer has come to an end. However, something seems off in the air and I can’t place what it is. Shrugging my shoulders and letting out the breath I was holding, I just blamed it on the nerves of being back here.

When I finally get to the River House I notice some slight changes; like the wind chimes I had placed had been taken down or the sun catchers that were hanging are now lying in the dirt half haphazardly covered in soil. I roll my eyes and sigh. I grip my satchel a little tighter and fold my glowing wings behind my back. My pink glow has turned into a warm purple matching the sunset in the sky that is covering Velaris.

A sinking feeling coats me when I am about to knock on the door, hearing sounds of laughter and excitement escape through the small cracks of the door. I suddenly wish Eris was with me but shake off the thought. He is a High Lord now, he has more important things to worry about than you. I think to myself. My hand was hovering over the door for an awkward amount of time before I just decided to rip off the bandage and knock.

A breath releases from me when it is Elain who answers the door and not someone else. Her face brightens with a huge grin and she practically tackles me with a hug.

“Wynn!” She shouts, and I am wondering if she has had just a little bit to drink. I grin back and say her name in a quieter tone.

She pulls me into the warm house, her pale pink dress fluttering around her as she moves. She was always so naturally welcoming to me. When she had first discovered me lying in the sun on one of her flowers she almost had a heart attack but quickly after that, we became close friends. I doubt I would have met the rest of the inner circle if it weren’t for Elain. So maybe that’s why I always felt like an imposter here.

“You and I have so much to catch up on!” She tells me. I shoot her back a grin.

“As if we weren’t sending letters back and forth weekly?” I say with a teasing smile.

“It is simply not the same, I must see your reaction.” She responds in a whisper as though she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Ahh. I understand.” I whisper back in the same joking tone. We arrived where everyone else had been sitting and a silence went over the room. I internally wince at the awkwardness, but luckily it does not last long when Feyre and Nesta stand to greet me.

“Wynnie Lara!” Nesta says she and Feyre pull me into a hug, Nesta in a gray dress and Feyre in a dark blue one. I look over their shoulder to see Azriel avoiding eye contact with where we are standing, and Cassian and Rhys both have guilty smiles on their faces. It seems I arrived a little too late and Nyx was put to sleep already.

When the sisters pull away from their hug I am left there standing awkwardly with Elain hanging off of my shoulder. She’s keeping my body warm and relaxed even though I would rather be anywhere else right now.

Rhys clears his throat, “Wynn I want to apologize for how things were left the last time you were here.” I give a stiff nod in acknowledgment before saying,

“Is that really how you feel or is that what your wife told you to say?” and the room responds in a thick silence. “Because I do not think I can trust any words that leave your mouth High Lord.”

He gives a wince, “I deserve that.” Nesta coughs and takes a sip of her drink muttering something under her breath.

“Did you come here to throw a pity party or did you come here to celebrate?” Azriel butts in as if he is bored of this whole show.

“I don’t know Azriel, what poor girl do you have feeding your hero complex to make you so relaxed?” I bite back. “Just a forewarning, she probably won’t stick around once she realizes how much of a little bitch you are.” He stands up abruptly and Rhys raises his hand as a warning and someone snorts in the background.

“Wynn,” Rhys says shocked. I look at him and my glow turns pink and I mutter out a weak, “Sorry.” I’m not.

“I actually do have a gift for little Nyx,” I say and reach into my satchel. Elain’s face is still tucked into my neck, and she whispers “You smell like clove and nutmeg.”

I grin a little knowing that is the Autumn Courts doing, and my mood goes melancholy when I realize I miss it. When I pull out the little toys, Feyre’s face lights up and before she walks over Rhys puts a hand out in front of her to stop her.

“Wynn.” He says, “Where were you for the past few months?” He asks although I suspect he already knows the answer.

“Home, High Lord,” I respond sharply. “The Autumn Court. Eris sends his regards.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azriel shouts out. “You’re a traitor Wynnie Lara.” I roll my eyes.

“Oh to the Mother. No, I am not.” I breathe before continuing, “If any of you actually took the time to get to know me, you would have already known that is where I am from. I mean the girls already knew and to be honest the only one who has a right to be upset is Mor and she is not.” I take notice that Mor was not here which was weird considering it was Nyx’s birthday but that tells me she is probably on an important mission.

“My kind also has a tragic backstory, just like you guys. My people, my species were hunted for sport centuries ago. Humans, fae, it didn’t matter it was a game. So when it was eventually outlawed across Prythian we had already borderline gone extinct.” I say with a shaking voice. I look to see horror across everyone’s face and it fills me with some sick satisfaction that they regret how they’ve been treating me.

“Wynn-” Elain starts but I pat her hand to let me continue.

“The worst time though, was not the hunting. No, it was Amarantha. Yes I know I was stuck in a jar. But I watched her terrorize the rest of my people for fun, ripping them in half and plucking their wings off their backs as if they were nothing but gnats. All I have seen for my kind is gruesome bloodshed.” I have tears streaming down my face as I continue.

“The only one to ever show me kindness during all of that was Eris. That is because he and I grew up together. When I found the Autumn Court there was a children’s shelter that I made my home for years. He and I found each other in the woods in our youth, he was the one to break me out of that damn jar when everything was over. Without him, I would have been stuck in the jar or worse.

Because of his father’s cruel reign, once I was healed enough Eris sent me here for sanctuary. I did not know any of you really besides Feyre and that was only because she was the Cursebreaker.” I managed to get out. Elain wrapped me up in her arms whispering words of encouragement while swaying us both. Feyre had tears streaming down her face. Nesta had a hand covering her mouth in dread and Cassian rubbing her back with the same grim look on his face.

Azriel is wrapped in shame and Rhysand looks horrified. He stands up and walks towards me, gently takes the gifts out of my hands, and offers me a hug. And for a moment I don’t return it, but when I do, I feel a weight taken off my shoulders.

“Wynn if we would have known.” Rhys starts but I interrupt.

“You would have what? Treated me better? Do I not just deserve your kindness as is? Or do people have to have some sort of traumatic backstory to earn your respect?” I clear my throat and nose once I pull back, “I did not tell you guys that to pity me, I am telling you because just because I am kind and small does not mean I am weak or some pushover. If you do not want me here that’s fine I will leave. But do not take whatever feelings you are struggling with, out on me.” I make it a point to hold eye contact with Azriel for that last part.

“I think we all owe you a huge apology for how you have been treated since arriving in Velaris. This city was built to be and stay a sanctuary, so the fact that you have been behaved towards so unfairly is embarrassing, to say the least.” Rhysand says standing sternly next to me.

“I am sorry the most. I have no real reason to have treated you the way I have.” Azriel speaks softly. “Please forgive me.” I look at him and give him a once-over. He is slouching in the chair he is sitting in, hands rubbing his face as the shadows around him twirl.

“I do forgive you but I do not think I could ever trust you,” I respond in the same tone, he winces and nods. Everyone gives their condolences to me, even Elain but I think that’s because she is tipsy and her emotions are just heightened.

After the tense moment is over I let the group know that I will be leaving. The three sisters all looked shocked.

“I really do wish I could stay longer but I have work to do back in Autumn, plus something is wrong. Or is about to be wrong, I am not sure.” I say with a furrow of my brows grabbing my arms and wrapping them around myself. My wings glow and twitch as I think about the shifting of the wind. And my hue finally changes back to its normal orange-pink.

“What do you mean?” Cassian finally speaks up with a questioning look on his face.

“I have a hard time trying to describe it in words, but I am connected to the wind as you all know. And it’s shifting weirdly and in abnormal patterns. I can normally predict how the weather is going to be based on it and I have been wrong little to none because of being able to read the wind. Recently though it is like I have never interacted with the wind at all.” I utter all at once.

“I am not sure though. I have to get back to my research and experiments to figure more out. Once I do, I will make sure to write.” I let out with a soft smile.

I am sensing because of the heavy conversation and the lateness of the evening that the party is over. I give my goodbyes, hug Elain, and make sure she will still write to me weekly. With that, I take off back into the night sky and head home.

While gliding through the air I had almost reached the Autumn Court when the wind around me went frigid and midflight I dropped towards the ground. Once my wings regain their sense of balance I spin in the sky looking for a threat, and as expected I come up empty. As I am about to continue my flight home a hard spike goes through my left hand. A yelp leaves my throat and I look to see an arrow, piercing my hand. I yell as I start to fall, my wings having a hard time opening. I get shot with another arrow through my right thigh, I let an agonizing scream out and close my eyes once I hit the cold ground with a hard thud.

Bleary-eyed trying to stand I feel warm blood coming out of my hand and leg, I see a figure walking towards me and I try to crawl away leaving a trail of fresh blood following me, “No, leave me alone.” I grunt out. Once they reach me I pray to the Mother that my death be swift, and then it goes dark.

a/n: soooooo what did yall think?

i do not own any of sarah j mass's characters.

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor @fatimam6 @lees-chaotic-brain @love-bookprincess @paleidiot @slytherintaco @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1 @esposadomd

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smok3r7 · 5 months

Text

One Door Closes & Another One Opens

Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer

Explicit, 18+

Voice To The Face

Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and an old flame of Renae’s reignites in the same breath?

Chapter Summary: Both Joel and Renae finally find the courage to make the right decisions to better their lives and find true happiness, partially together and partially not. Better late than never.

Word count: 5.8k

—

Mindlessly pacing back and forth in Tommy’s backyard, Joel can’t seem to stop talking to Renae. The conversation flows so easily, there’s no awkward silence, no vile words being thrown around, no drunken nonsense, and no slot machine music in the background. It’s the first time in years Joel feels listened to and has someone who actually engages in conversation.

His flip-flops pop on the cement that surrounds the inground pool - he’s probably done at least two dozen laps in a matter of minutes. The sky has changed to a soft blue with a hue of orange coming from the sun that’s starting to set, soft bubble-like clouds scatter the sky, and the vibrant oak and ash trees dance with the wind that lightly blows. Summers in Austin can be outright magical, but they can also be dangerously hot. Thankfully this year has been more of the cooler weather, but Joel’s not gonna jinx it because he’s noticed as he gets older, he hates the heat.

Joel didn’t expect to be by the pool for this call, so his jeans stick to his sweaty legs and groin as he paces, making him adjust his semi-hard cock that's been fighting with his zipper. If he would’ve known the first call with a divorce lawyer would’ve gone this way, he wouldn’t have been around Tommy. He started the call sitting with Tommy in his front lawn, both sitting around an ash-filled fire pit with whiskeys in each other's hands, but after about five minutes of Tommy wanting to know every tiny bit of what she was saying, Joel just stood up and walked to the backyard, whiskey in hand.

The phone call started out professional; he went into extreme detail about his financial details, how he wants physical and sole custody of Sarah with no strings to Annie, and that he wants to keep everything except the Toyota. She can keep that damn thing for all he cares, it’s of no use to him.

However, about thirty minutes into the call, after Joel mentioned he also wants to keep the cabin he and Annie bought when they first got together, Renae is the one to change the energy of the call from business to somewhat casual. She talks about how she loves camping in cabins and that she hasn’t gone camping in over a decade, and Joel makes sure to remember that she’s been to ten different campsites in Texas.

If things go a certain direction, he might be able to help her add to that list. At the same time, Joel can’t stop from thinking how he’s already looking into the future with her, during a time where he’s getting divorced. But he quickly finds himself getting distracted by the way her business voice morphed into this bubbly, sarcastic one that has Joel hypnotized by her every word.

And just like that, the floodgates open and the divorce talk is forgotten about completely by both parties.

Another thirty minutes go by of Joel and Renae getting to know each other through talking about fun activities they’ve individually done in the past and things they both enjoy. He talks about things he’s done with Sarah throughout her life, the memories of going to Disney World, to Cedar Point, the Grand Canyon all start to play out like a movie in his brain. Joel hasn’t thought about some of the things that play for him right now in some years - he’s been too occupied to reminisce about the past, so he goes silent for a moment getting lost in little Sarah giggles and hugs.

“That reminds me of the time my sister and I went tubin’ and both of us flew- and when I say flew, I mean we went like ten feet in the air!” She laughs on the other side of the phone.

Seriously? Joel can’t help but chuckle as he asks her, his left hand rubs the back of his neck as he passes the metal handle that leads to the pool steps. Circling for what could very well be the hundredth time.

“Yes, Joel, my dad is insane when it comes to his boat. But I wouldn’t have anyone else drive it, and he wouldn’t either.”

“That sounds like a smart man to me. Sounds like me with my pontoon.”

“Joel, stop it right now,” her southern twang takes control as she drags out her words almost in a whiny voice, but not annoying like Annie. Quite the opposite, actually, any tone from Renae has Joel drooling from his mouth and dick.

“You keep surprisin’ me with these fun little facts about you.”

Heat rushes instantly to his face, and he’s so taken aback that his feet plant themselves and he drags his fingers through the top of his curls and stops them on the back of his head, where he softly scratches his scalp. Something about her smart-ass attitude, silk-like voice, and confident cadence all combined and tied with a large bow to make it better has him not feeling like himself, and he can’t tell if that’s good or not.

“I’ve lived a pretty full life darlin’, there’s lots of things you’d learn from me.”

Joel feels like he must be on a roll or something because of the way she giggles; it’s almost like he can see her sun kissed cheeks start to turn red and her teeth shine from her smile. His heart beat thumps in his chest and cock that’s now supported by the waistband of his boxers and jeans. Thankfully he’s somewhat smart enough to have his back facing the two story home to hide the effects from this one woman.

“Well, since you’re offering, I couldn’t possibly pass that up. That would just be pretty dumb of me.” Joel knows she’s serious but he also hears the bit of sarcasm that laces her words. It’s like a fun game of cat and mouse, who’s gonna fold first, and Joel is loving every second of it.

Joel’s body feels light and airy, his chest isn’t tight. Most importantly, he’s not walking on eggshells. It’s become so natural for him to always be on alert and pay attention to the little inflections of someone’s voice and body language, but that hasn’t happened once since he’s been on this call. It’s refreshing to have a simple, yet meaningful, conversation with someone - her slight southern charm with some street knowledge, and with him knowing her physical attributes, Joel can’t complain in the slightest.

He feels like he’s hit the lottery with Renae and he hasn’t even met her yet.

“Well sugar, how about I come to see ya’ tomorrow ‘n I’ll teach ya’ some things.” The second glass of whiskey gives Joel the confidence he needs to keep up the playful banter and not feel self conscious about it. A second goes by and he swears he hears her try to cover up another giggle, I still got it. Joel hasn’t flirted in years, after so long he was convinced he could never do it again and he was going to be this cold hearted old man for the rest of his life.

“Come by anytime between noon and four,” she says, her voice low and sweet, “Just say you’re here for Russo and she’ll bring you to me.”

“Someone’s eager,” Joel can’t help but grin, “But it sounds like a deal, darlin’.”

“Well I wanna put a face to the smooth voice- uh, I-” she’s now stumbling on her words trying to hide the fact that she just slipped up more than she wanted to. “You may want to bring paper copies of bills, properties you own, and any evidence against Annie that you have. Ya’ know, for our first conciliation- free of charge for you.”

“Will get as much as I can by then-”

“Dad!”

Joel spins around and sees Sarah standing in the doorway with her Nightmare Before Christmas pajama set and her brown hair is pulled up in a high bun that sits on her head. “Are you done yet? I wanna play uno before bed!” She shouts with both of her hands sitting on her hips as she pops her left hip out dramatically and her face has a scowl the size of a monster.

He can’t help but snort at the amount of attitude that spews out of his four foot daughter - oddly enough, he hears Renae snickering in his right ear.

“Give me one minute, kiddo, just gotta finish this call.”

“Ugh, you said that over an hour ago,” Sarah groans and spins around to storm off into Tommy’s, but before she takes a step Joel is quick to check her. He lets some attitude and smart ass comments fly, but not when it comes to something like this. It’s too close to her coming off as a snooty kid - which is not the kind of behavior he will tolerate.

He rests his phone on his chest as his voice booms across the pool and yard from her, “Would ya’ rather just go to bed?” This stops her and causes her to turn her head. I’m sorry, she apologizes. He nods and she’s gone inside. Then he shakes his head, raising his left hand to his face as he rubs the corner of his eye for a moment to collect himself.

“Sorry ‘bout that-“

“Don’t be,” Renae interrupts him, “When duty calls you gotta act on it, I get it. Well, not cause of kids, but- you know what I mean. Anyways, I’ll let you go for the night and I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Joel Miller.”

He doesn’t want to hang up, he could talk with her for hours and hours. But ultimately he knows he has to, there’s no other option. He’s been dreading this part of the call, partially due to the fact he knows he’s gotta go back to reality.

“Alrighty, Ms. Russo,” he purrs, “Rest up so ya’ can see if my face meets your expectations.”

Renae giggles and the shaking of her bracelets clangs together faintly in the background. “Night, Joel.”

Then just like that, she hangs up. Leaving Joel smirking like a fifteen year old boy who just talked to his first crush and got her number. But now he’s alone with his conflicting thoughts and feelings about how he should handle this delicate situation.

—

On my way back now, a client surprised me. Be home in 10<3

Renae hits send to Gia, who texted her about five minutes ago reminding Renae that she said she’d be home no later than six-thirty - it's ten after seven. Renae had gotten distracted by her phone call with Joel, that she forgot her sister and niece were even in town. There was just something about him that entranced her and kept her wanting to learn more and more about him and who he is as a person.

Renae’s phone goes off with a ding, and she picks it up and unlocks it to see a response.

Kk I just got B out the bath and she’s playing with Frankie, see you when you get here<3

Renae smiles and holds down the message and presses the heart reaction, letting Gia know she read it. After tossing her phone in her purse on her passenger side, she puts her car in drive and heads home.

But she can’t stop thinking of Joel. The way his southern drawl slurs his words just a bit, his laugh deep and sounds like it starts in his belly and climbs into his chest, and the way he talks so highly of his daughter like she’s the most precious thing to him. It’s almost too perfect - but yet again, he is getting divorced, so maybe that’s his red flag. She can’t help but think maybe he wasn’t so innocent in the way things ended with Annie, because there’s two sides to every story.

Even with those negative things floating around her head, she can’t leave the idea of Joel alone. Renae can’t think of the last time a man who has been open about emotions and relationships and a stand up guy all around.

Well, that’s kind of a lie.

Dominic Amaro.

That man will forever be the standard of a boyfriend that Renae will ever have. When they broke up, she told herself that she would never settle for anything less than that and she has upheld that since then. It hasn’t been easy, Renae’s used to the toxic, needy guys - for some god awful reason - so she’s had to learn how to steer clear from those people.

Joel seems to be the opposite of what she would be into, however she’s only basing this off of his voice and personality with a mix of his playful humor.

Sugar, darlin’, Ms. Russo.

Renae can’t stop replaying those words in Joel’s voice. She’s hooked, addicted even. She’s not sure how she’s gonna be able to keep her composure tomorrow. If he looks anything like she imagines - she’s fucked, and not in a good way.

Well, maybe…who knows?

By the time she reaches her apartment complex, she’s already looking forward to sleeping. But she knows she can't. Bianca is going to want to watch The Princess Bride before she goes to bed tonight. It's become tradition since the first time Bianca traveled five years ago. The first night they stayed, Gia suggested it and Bianca just fell in love with the movie. The next time they visited, Renae surprised Bianca with baking sugar cookies before the movie so they would be done about half way through. Then they could snack on some treats while enjoying the movie before they all went to bed.

It’s helped heal a bit of Renae’s broken heart that she denies having; being able to create joy for Bianca out of something so minuscule is all Renae needs.

“I’m back!” She announces as she pushes her front door open and instantly spots everyone in the living room to her left. “So sorry I’m late, I got caught up on a call.” She can feel Gina’s eyes scorning her back as Renae faces her kitchen, setting down her purse and laptop bag. Like she always does.

But before Gia can get a word out, Bianca is at Renae’s hip, saving her from any bullshit her mom was about to unleash. “It’s okay, we got the movie all set and got the cookies mixed up, they just gotta go in the oven!” Bianca squeals as she looks up at Renae with this enormous smile that Renae can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy; she looks so much like a mix of Gia and Renae, the Russo genes are strong.

“Lovebug, you are the bomb,” Renae lowers her right hand a low five, which Bianca smacks hard. “Just lemme’ go change and we can start!”

“Okay!” Bianca cheers as she hugs Renae’s hips and runs back into the living room with Gia and Frankie. The apartment is now filled with puppy barks and growls as Bianca plays tug-a-war with him on the dark gray carpet that has a hint of navy blue to it, that covers the living room.

“Can I talk with you for just a second?” Gia asks with a snide tone while standing up from the navy leather couch, then walking behind Renae who’s heading to her room.

“Don’t think I have much of a choice,” Renae sighs in defeat while opening her bedroom door. In a strange way, she now feels like the little sister who’s about to get scolded by the older one for god knows what. However, deep down Renae knows that Gia can sense something is up. When she and Bianca are in town, Renae is never late and won’t ever give a half-assed excuse, for anything - so Gia definitely knows something is different.

Before Renae can even get one heel off, Gia is already shooting off a hundred questions at once. To anyone else it would sound like pure gibberish, but Renae has no problem making out each word and being able to understand them.

So who’s the guy? How old? Does he have money? Is he tall? Fat? Skinny? Short? How long has this been goin’ on? Are you and Dominic talking again? You only glow like this when you’re with or talking with him- She takes a split second to gasp out of a realization, oh my god…it is Dominic. When were you gonna tell me? How long?

By the time she’s finished with her array of questions, Renae has already changed into her oversized tee and shorts and is now in her bathroom relieving her face from the makeup that’s melted to her face from the brutal heat. Completely ignoring her sisters ridiculous blabbering, but yet hating the fact that she’s right - partially.

With both her hands flat on the pearl white countertop next to the matching white square sink that sits above the counter, instead of in it. A little touch of something different than any other place she was looking at to rent, the bathroom is really what sold her on this one bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment.

She observes her reflection opposite of her, she can tell there is a small glow that shines from her face; her cheeks have a brighter color to them, her green eyes piercing but soft, her shoulders are relaxed and low. She’s not tense, like she has been for the last few years. Not because of anything in particular, she just hasn't been able to let loose like she wants.

After a few more seconds of taking in her appearance, she sees how happy she looks. The defined lines in between her eyebrows are softer, the smiles lines grow from the permanent smile that paints her lips. Her eyes are full of hope and desire, much like how she feels about tomorrow. The promise of tomorrow is what’s keeping her light on her toes; the possibility of something new and unfamiliar excites Renae.

She has to venture out of her comfort zone, Dominic can’t be her safety net forever.

“Hello,” Gia drags out as she vigorously flips the light switch on and off, “Earth to Renae, anyone home?”

“Shit, yeah.” Renae shakes her head before she slides her bracelets off, along with her rings, and hoops. Then setting them on the counter next to the sink; knowing that she’ll more than likely wear them tomorrow, she doesn’t put them in her jewelry stand.

Quickly glancing over to her sister and her bump, who’s no more than a couple meters away, Renae smiles at the fact Gia is living her life exactly how she wants. The jealousy still lingers in her soul, it always will, but it’s pushed into the back of her mind for now. She goes back to her reflection and starts to put her thick hair into a low bun that sits at the bottom of her neck.

“For your information, Dominic and I aren’t back together, but we have been talking-“

“I knew it!”

Renae now completely faces Gia with a playful - kinda annoyed - expression, “Bitch, are you gonna let me finish? Or do ya’ not want the story?” Crossing her arms in front of her chest and popping her right hip that bumps into the drawer.

“Can’t help myself!” Gia scoffs as she turns around and sits on Renae’s bed, one hand planted behind her supporting her body up and the other one spreads across her belly. Her worn gray Yankee’s tee lifts enough for her belly button to pop out, Renae can't stop her lips from curving up. Pure love and compassion pours out of her whole demeanor. Seeing Gia legitimately happy and enjoying herself and her life, getting everything she wants and needs for her and her family, is such a beautiful feeling for Renae.

The big sister finally feels like the baby has finally found herself and it digs at her a little bit because she doesn’t need Renae. At least not like they did as kids. But it also fills her with this accomplished spirit because Renae was the one who pushed Gia to move to New York and make that one last step.

Now look at Gia; a badass business owner, wife, mother, and homeowner.

“I get excited when this shit happens to you, Rae… Cause you deserve it and I want it so badly for you.” Gia’s tone is now low and sincere, her body language even. She swipes the loose pieces of her shoulder length hair that’s a bright cherry blonde behind her ears and slightly sitting forward. Almost too fast for Renae to catch but she sees a small tear fall down Gia’s cheek before she quickly wipes it away with her right hand.

“Please know that I’m rooting for you in every way possible, even with our little tit-for-tat shit we do.”

Renae now in the doorway between her bedroom and bathroom with the right side of her body leaning against the frame, her left leg crossed behind her right one that supports her body and her arms still folded. The image of her pregnant sister in front of her instantly soothes her body and mind, she can never stay mad at Gia.

“Don’t go gettin’ all fuckin’ sappy on me,” Renae chuckles, “Buck up, camper.”

“Whatever, so how’s Dominic and his ma?”

“Not good, uh, he told me she’s maybe got a year left in her. Her organs just are not functioning like they should, so he’s pretty shaken by that.”

“Aw, Rae. I’m sorry, honey.”

“Yeah, well, anyway Dominic is comin’ to visit next month, so I invited him to stay with me for those few days he’s here.” Renae watches as Gia’s eyes bulge and her mouth starts to open, however she’s quick to stop her. “Nothing serious is gonna come outta it, I just figured if he’s gonna be in Austin he could save money by staying here. And maybe we’ll fuck or not, I don’t know okay?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gia smirks as she raises her hands in surrender. “But I know that’s not everything that happened today… Spill.” Both her hands back on the mattress supporting her body as she leans back a bit with a cocky smirk.

Renae can’t help herself from laughing as she turns to flick the light off in the bathroom and slides past Gia towards the door that leads out to the rest of her apartment. She doesn’t want to explain the Joel situation right now mostly because she hasn’t even met him yet, so she really has nothing to go on. She’ll fill Gia in tomorrow after her meeting with him.

“Nice try, your daughter’s waiting for us.” She flicks her bedroom light off, “In five seconds I bet she’ll call for us. Five…four…three…two..”

“Mamaaa, are y’all almost ready?”

In her dark room the two sisters can’t help the burst of laughter and snorts that leave their mouths at the perfect timing of Bianca’s voice from the living room. Renae was just trying to switch the topic of conversation off of her before she got stuck answering to her sister.

Even though she’s a lawyer - a very good one - Gia is able to corner Renae into telling her things. She’s never been able to understand why her baby sister is the one to crack her and it’s been like this since Gia could talk. So Renae found out she has to switch the conversation or just leave the area, because otherwise Gia will sit there and pick apart every minute detail that Renae subconsciously tells.

“We’re comin’, lovebug!”

—

The flicking of Renae’s nails on her thumb and ring finger on her right hand takes over the office, her nerves tingling with anticipation. It’s the first time she’s ever been nervous to meet a client. Well frankly, she’s never had a client like this before.

She can’t stop pacing her office; around her desk, around the table that sits in the middle of her room, up and down the length of her five foot window as she stares down twelve stories at the people who look like ants. Her stomach is in knots, her throat feels dry even though she’s pounded a couple of bottles of water.

Burning rays of sun shine down on her through the window pane, causing her to turn back to her office as she scans her surroundings. Making sure everything is exactly how she wants it and nothing is slightly out of place; first impressions are huge for her.

Renae’s office is her prized possession, she’s worked her ass off to get where she is; right after high school she jumped into college - four years of college to get her bachelors in Sociology and then she did three years in Law school. Luckily she knew Rachel York through a family friend, who put a good word in for Renae and was able to start at R&R Law Firm immediately. So the last thing she wants is for a client to walk in and be instantly turned away by how her space is decorated or kept together.

Maybe that’s a stretch for anyone to think but she’s heard plenty of stories from other attorneys, where their desk wasn’t kept up completely and the client complained about him being disorganized. So ever since then Renae has been a stickler about her work space.

Why did I give him such a huge window of time? She repeats on a loop in different ways so she can try to understand her logic, but there’s no right or wrong answer. She was simply too distracted by him and too eager to meet him to even think about giving correct information. She cracks her thin fingers on both hands and a little bit of her tension is broken, at least in her hands - the other parts of her body are another story.

She tilts her head up to the clock above her desk, one o’clock on the dot. She inhales through her nose and lets it sit in her chest for a second, then exhales through her mouth once to try to escape the reality of meeting Joel. But it doesn’t help. She walks about her mahogany desk and sits in her matching colored office chair, adjusting her fitting white button-up that’s tucked into her high waisted baby blue dress pants so she’s comfortable.

Her usual curly hair, now pin straight with a middle part, reaches the top of her butt and a few money pieces in front of her shoulders and temples on her face. The gold of her jewelry shimmers with her sun-kissed skin that lays underneath the thick, choker-like chain necklace, accompanied by her medium sized hoops, bangles on each wrist and groupings of rings on either hand. Her French tipped acrylics being the cherry on top for her.

“Knock, knock.”

Renae stops like she just got caught sneaking out the house as a teenager.

He’s here. Holy shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With her open toed white heels she spins her chair towards her door to see the mystery man that she already knows is going to uproot her life. Her body stops all movements, but her brain is working a mile a minute.

He’s from the diner… He’s the hot man from the diner.

But he’s cleaned himself up. He’s now crossed the threshold of the door about five or six feet away from her, give or take. First thing that catches her eye is how he shaved his face, keeping the mustache so not quite a baby face but not the full beard she loved yesterday. His salt and pepper curls are combed back and not messy, it even looks like he may have gotten a small haircut on the top. His dark chocolate orbs glistening along with his tanned skin from the sun that beats in from the window across the room.

She can’t believe this, it’s almost comical. In fact, she can’t help but laugh and slightly shake her head side to side while she stares up into his eyes. Joel does the same as he holds a stack of papers in a Manila folder tucked between his left bicep that’s covered by a light gray button up, which is bunched up and about ready to rip and his side.

“So you’re Joel Miller?” She giggles as she pushes herself out of her chair and steps towards him to properly greet him, for real this time and not just a quick moment of intimate eye contact while she walks away.

“This is me, darlin’,” he says, and she watches his eyes do a quick up and down gaze of her body as she gets closer. Her heart flutters at his voice, it's soft but deep like it comes from his chest and his southern tone is heavy when it comes to pet names.

Now directly in front of him, Renae extends her arm to shake his hand - for more reasons than one - her thin gold bangles chime together.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller”

Joel’s quick to grasp her hand, which is completely swallowed by his thick, calloused hand that squeezes for a second, “Likewise Ms. Russo.” His voice is like honey that drips and drips, having Renae begging for more of it.

—

“So you did know it was me before you came here?” Renae questions Joel with a smirk, as she barely sways her chair and pops her gum, while he sits across her desk.

Joel shifts his body just enough so his shoulder blades now rest on the back of the leather swivel chair, his right hand scratches his stubble while he chuckles at her reaction. His eyes roam around her body, even though she’s all he wants to look at. He’s partially embarrassed because he feels like a stalker of some kind, even though she’s reassured him that he’s not dozens and dozens of times.

It’s been close to two hours since he arrived at her office. The first hour was all about the divorce bullshit he’ll have to go through; canceling insurance on Annie’s Toyota and changing the title to her name, taking her off his phone plan, changing locks, taking her off of the family insurance policy. Then the worst two things that he wanted to avoid at all cost, he found out he’s going to have to deal with it - the whole process will take four months minimum because there’s a child involved and that he’s going to have to fight for physical and sole custody because Annie’s going to, and already is, fighting it.

Renae could tell he was feeling down and out of sorts just by the way his whole body tensed when Sarah came up in the conversation. So she swiftly changed the course of their conversation and turned it more easy-going and natural than the previous. Which ended up turning into an hour of joking about the fact they have somewhat already met one another and the fact the odds of that happening are slim to none.

“Yes… But,” he sits up, now halfway off the seat and his elbows rest on his knees, while his palms and fingertips pressed together, “I just happened to click on R&R Law Firm. I saw your picture - beautiful one by the way - ‘N I told myself, or, made myself is a better way to describe it. And I had to just make the call.”

Joel loves the way her face brightens whenever he compliments her or he makes a joke that she finds hilarious; the way her nose scrunches when she tries to hide her laughter or smile, makes it hard for him to stop staring. He’s just getting to know her and he’s already obsessed, addicted, fixated. It’s kind of scary how possessive he already feels around Renae.

“Thank you. It’s an old picture, I’m sure you can tell,” her hands gesture to her face for a moment before she rests them back on her armrests and scoffs. “Side note, I believe you Joel. Don’t have to defend yourself, that’s what I’m here for!” Her teeth gleam with her smile as she rolls her chair a bit to her right and gently pulls the middle drawer of her desk open and grabs a sheet of paper.

“Exactly why I wanted ya, darlin’.” He draws out the beginning of ‘exactly’ as he watches her move so smoothly behind her desk. Gliding to one side and her orange strands of hair fly with her, grabbing a pen for him to use and the top part of her button-up open just enough for Joel to get a peak of her breasts, and back in the middle as she turns the paper to him.

“Just sign here,” she circles the bottom section on the front, then flips the sheet over, “‘n here and I’m all yours.” She purrs, handing the blue pen to Joel who happily takes it. Joel rarely liked the look of Annie’s too long, bright acrylics but Renae’s simple style and length makes him rethink his opinion on acrylics. He starts to think about how pretty her French tips would look wrapped around his throbbing cock or how ravishing she looks when she’s dripping with arousal as she glides through her folds and teases herself.

Mindlessly he signs the form and sets the pen on top of it before he slides it back to Renae who’s admiring him from behind her desk. Joel's brain can’t wrap around the fact that someone as gorgeous and intelligent as Renae, is even interested in a guy like Joel. Maybe too much of the belittling and the trauma from Annie has diminished his self esteem, but he can slowly feel it coming back.

She’s all mine.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel x oc #joel and sarah #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x original character

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year

Text

Sometimes, Robin disappears.

Steve doesn’t know where she goes nor can tell how long she’s gonna be gone, usually she’s away just for a couple of hours and comes back acting like everything is fine.

It doesn’t scare Steve any less.

He knows she doesn’t do it to mess with him, and despite being attached to the hip since Starcourt there’s still a lot they don’t know about with each other.

When she’s gone, Steve’s mind those a whole 360 on every possible scenario: when his mind is good to him, she’s hanging out with imaginary way-cooler-than-Steve friends, who don’t know of his existence because Robin is embarrassed by him, which leaves him with a sting of jealousy until he hears back from her; when it’s a little less kind, he imagines her being attacked by Russians, or abducted by an Upside down creature, or both. She usually comes back before he leaves everything to jump in his car and frantically look for her.

The thing is, Robin acts like everything is fine and Steve doesn’t know how to approach it. She’s fine before, she’s fine after, and he doesn’t know where he stands. He doesn’t know if this attachment for Robin is okay or if it’s going to scare her away, so he lets her set the rules and he follows the best he can, trying not to die of worry in the meantime.

One day, Robin doesn’t go to school.

He comes to pick her up at the usual time but she isn’t on her porch steps, ready to scold him for being late. He rings the doorbell but no one answers, her parents are often out early in the morning and she doesn’t have any siblings, so he guesses she might have gone to school without him.

He drives to school and stands near the entrance, trying to spot her while planning how to make her feel guilty for not giving him any heads-up on the change of plans.

She’s nowhere to be found.

He drives to the streets nearby, then to the library and the park, no trace of her anywhere.

He goes to work telling himself she’s probably fine, she must’ve overslept or she was already in class or she had early band practice. It doesn’t calm his mind even a little bit. Because it's not like Robin to skip school, she has never done this before, or at least since Steve has known her. Before his mind spirals again thinking that he doesn’t even know his best friend, he decides to focus on work and look for her after, hoping she will call in the meantime to let him know she wasn’t eaten alive by a Demogorgon.

At 5:01 PM he’s out of the store and ready to search every corner of the town until he finds Robin.

He’s driving on the road coasting Lovers Lake when he notices Robin’s bike. Steve’s heart beats fast as he abruptly gets out of the road and parks next to it.

The bike is parked in perfect conditions so Steve feels safe enough to exclude a Will Byers situation and ventures into the coastline to look for her.

He notices her before she can: Robin is sitting cross-legged on an old bench, heavy book in her hands, looking very relaxed and completely out of danger.

Steve’s worry quickly turns into anger.

“Are you insane?” He asks when he’s close enough to be heard.

Robin winces, she was too immersed in her book to notice anyone coming near. She looks surprised to see him there “What are you doing here, dingus?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here!” Steve retorts, hands on his hips.

Robin recognizes the scolding-children pose and doesn’t like it “I am clearly reading and enjoying the nice weather, or at least I was until you came to bother me!”

“Oh, now I am bothering you? So sorry to interrupt your getaway because I thought you were dead!”

Robin slams her book closed “Are you serious? I was just taking a break, I needed alone time!”

“Take all the breaks you want but at least give me a fucking heads up so I know I don’t have to look for you around town like a maniac” he gestures at the area where he parked her car, his voice getting louder.

“I really don’t understand where this is coming from, I’ve been coming here to read for years, and no one as ever-“

“Well, maybe that’s because you didn’t have a best friend who worried about you!”

Steve regrets it as soon as he says it. Robin looks stunned, she opens and closes her mouth several times, then looks away.

After a minute of heavy silence between them, Steve approaches the bench and sits next to her, looking at the lake.

“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have said that” Steve continues “I was worried but that is my problem and you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“No, you’re right” she shakes her head “I’m not used to having people worried about me. My parents are great but they don’t really question where I go every day and…” she glances at Steve quickly, then looks down at her book again “I’m not used to friends caring like that either.”

Never in a million years Steve would’ve guessed that one day he would’ve related so much to Robin Buckley.

“Why do you leave?” He dares to ask.

“I just need it sometimes. Everything gets too loud, there’s too much going on and I feel… overwhelmed” she explains.

Steve doesn't understand that, he has felt overwhelmed before but he would never leave or ask for space from people close to him. Sometimes, he misses Tommy and Carol just because they barely gave him any space. But it seems something important to Robin, so he nods.

"so, school was too much today?"

"no, I mean yes, but no" she groans, frustrated "It's just that- school is fine and I have my quiet places but... I had a nightmare. This wasn’t the first time since Starcourt but it was the most terrifying I had."

Steve doesn't say anything, and Robin grows more embarrassed by the minute. She's ready to tell him to forget about it when she feels Steve's hand taking hers and intertwining their fingers.

She remembers back on the Starcourt's roof, when she got scared shitless and her hand immediately found Steve's. She was still scared but comforted by the idea that Steve was with her.

Steve is looking the opposite way from where she's sitting on his left, so she can't see his face when he speaks "I have them too. Just tell me next time instead of giving me more nightmares material."

"Uh sure" she manages to say. She's not used to getting this sappy with Steve, or anyone else for that matter.

She squeezes his hand "so, is part of the Harrington charm to get all smushy?"

Steve squeezes back "fuck off! My art of charming is so much more than that!"

"Oh really, please do tell, I am so ready to take notes on how to woo all the ladies!"

"First of all: Hair."

Steve goes into a detailed list of things Robin should mind more ("I could do your hair" "never in a million years, dingus") and Robin groans and rolls her eyes at most of his points ("I so dress better than you" "you wear suspenders, Buckley. Unironically").

They keep holding hands the whole time.

#I said that Robin's podcast had me feeling some type of way #little extra she was reading Dante's Paradise #because she read Dante's Inferno in 1983 #but it might give her more nightmares so she gave Paradise a try #but it sucks because it's all positive and shit #eventually she will read Steve the funniest parts of inferno and he will be like you're so weird #stobin #platonic stobin #after s3 before s4 #they're bestie but they are figuring it out #steve harrington #stranger things #robin and steve

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weemssapphic · 2 years

Note

Hi :) I have a Larissa x reader request, feel no pressure to do this if u don’t want to and ofc u can mix it up and stuff <3

I’ve had this song from mean girls stuck in my head all week and I was wondering if you could perhaps write a young!larissa x young!reader fic based on this song? For example, Larissa wanted readers attention so she changed herself to be more like the popular girlies (perhaps morticia?) or asked reader to tutor her in a subject to spend more time w/ them only to find out that reader preferred her before she changed herself.

The song ends in angst but the fic could be however you like ofc. Anyways I just love the idea of Larissa being like cady from mean girls, tish being like Regina and reader being like Aaron.

If u do end up doing this- thank u sm 🥹 and if u don’t wanna, don’t worry :) I love ur work and I’m happy to read anything u write 💘

a/n: thank you again for the request! i really really hope this did it justice because damn, was i excited to write this! even though the song ends on an angsty note, this fic will have a happy ending <3

young!Larissa Weems x young!fem!reader {other pairings: references to (young!)Morticia Frump x reader, Morticia x Gomez}

words: ~6.1k (oops)

warnings/content: slight angst with a fluffy ending, Larissa is adorably shy, Morticia is possessive as shit, sapphic yearning

You Don’t Have to Pretend With Me

A light breeze passed through the quad - the last days of summer were slowly waning, giving way to cooler autumn weather. The colder air raised the hairs on your arm and you felt Morticia’s arm slink loosely around your waist, her warm palm coming to rest on your forearm and gently stroking the skin there.

“Are you cold? Gomez, give her your jacket,” she snapped her fingers at the boy, who immediately began to shrug off his blazer at the command.

“Tish, I’m fine,” you soothed, leaning into her touch, your eyes darting subconsciously over to her roommate, Larissa. Her eyes bore holes into the stone surface of the table as she twisted her fingers in her lap. You shifted in Morticia’s grip and gently kicked at Larissa’s shins under the table, causing her to jump in surprise. A smirk graced your lips at the blush that crept up her cheeks - you’d noticed more often lately that the taller blonde was rather shy around you, and you couldn’t help but tease her a bit. You loved how easily you were able to fluster her, adored the pinkish hue that would overtake her face, a bit like your own personal sunset.

“Earth to Larissa. Are you with us?”

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a moment,” she mumbled, smiling in such a dorky way that had you struggling to suppress your swooning.

“Morticia and I are going shopping on Sunday, you wanna come?” Larissa’s eyes lit up and she nodded, soft blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.

You felt the arm around your waist tighten possessively and bit your lip. Your relationship with Morticia was, in a word, complicated. You’d been dating on and off for around a year now, though most of that time was admittedly off. You’d most recently decided you were better off as good friends, but sometimes Morticia’s flirtatious and rather possessive side still came out to play.

But Larissa, she was different… where Morticia was a little overwhelming, always in your personal space, Larissa was reserved, held back. Where Morticia loved to show off, Larissa expressed her pride quietly. Larissa was always so soft and reassuring, showing you so much compassion and empathy whenever you’d confided in each other. She was intelligent and quick-witted and knew how to use it to her advantage. And god, she was breathtakingly beautiful…

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch break. Thanking the heavens that you had a free period, you sighed and leaned into Morticia’s casual embrace to shield yourself from another cold breeze, waving goodbye to Larissa and Gomez as they headed off to their next class together.

—

As soon as he was sure he was out of earshot of you and Morticia, Gomez stopped dead in his tracks, nearly causing Larissa to stumble over his much shorter figure.

“Gomez, what are you-”

“Larissa, you like her, yes?”

“Who are you-” Larissa’s eyes went wide, then her face flushed as she realized to whom Gomez was referring. Of course he’d caught on - the boy was no fool when it came to romance, and he’d caught her staring at you when she thought you weren’t looking more than once.

“Yes,” she relented with a huff and an eye roll. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I compare to Morticia anyway.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, her blue eyes wavered a bit and she cast them to the floor. She was not going to cry, not in front of Gomez.

“Larissa, how could she not love you?!” Gomez lifted Larissa’s chin to hold her gaze and she rolled her eyes at the boy.

“What do you want?” She narrowed her eyes at him, critically searching his face for any signs of mischief - he’d never been this kind to her, she suspected he mostly hung out with you guys to get closer to Morticia.

Gomez let out a long sigh. “It’s obvious you have eyes for Y/N. And I’ve been trying to court Tish for a while now. Both can’t happen if they’re still all over each other. And I’d like to ask Tish to the Rave’n this year.”

“Okay… what does this have to do with me?”

“You have to distract Y/N.”

Larissa snorted. “So that you can make a move on Morticia. Right. And how do you suppose I do that, Gomez? Morticia’s all over her.”

“She’s very good at botany. She could tutor you. You get close, spend some time together, just the two of you. Give me time to woo Morticia.”

“But I don’t need a tutor, I’m the best in our class…”

“You don’t have to need one,” Gomez rolled his eyes. “Just pretend to need one.”

Larissa chewed her bottom lip as she considered his proposal. Just then, your melodic laughter floated from the quad and caught her attention. She looked over his shoulder just in time to see Morticia pull you onto her lap and tuck your hair behind your ear. Her stomach dropped, a familiar twinge of jealousy burning bright in her chest, licking at her ribcage like an untamed flame.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll do it. This better be worth it.”

—

“Tish,” you cried out between giggles as the dark-haired girl pulled you onto her lap and brushed your hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Yes, mon cher?” She raised her eyebrows and grinned down at you, causing you to blush deeply and look away. Your eyes met Larissa’s across the quad. She seemed upset somehow, and you offered her a sheepish smile. Even with a frown on those pouty red lips, you thought she was the most beautiful girl at Nevermore, and your stomach did a backflip imagining it was Larissa pulling you into her lap, not Morticia. Maybe if you could somehow get her alone, if she weren’t so damn shy around you…

~~~

Sunday rolled around and that meant it was finally time to go shopping with Morticia and Larissa. Once you were ready, you burst into the girl’s shared dorm room, a wide grin spread on your face.

“Mooorning, ladies, are we ready?” You sing-songed, plopping down on Morticia’s bed and watching as she sauntered over to give you a hug.

“Nearly,” she said. “If that one finishes her makeup soon.” She jerked her thumb at Larissa who sat at her vanity in the corner, applying her lipstick. Larissa paused mid-stroke, looking mildly annoyed, and furrowed her brows.

“Take your time,” you cooed from across the room, before an argument could ensue. “You’ll look gorgeous.”

Larissa’s cheeks reddened, she quickly averted her gaze and focused on her reflection in the mirror, a slight tremor overcoming her hands. Morticia sighed dramatically and sat down next to you on the bed, handing you her brush in a silent command to brush her hair, which you happily took over for her, while keeping an eye on the blonde from the corner of your eye.

Ten minutes later you were out the door, following the roommates down the winding staircase of Ophelia Hall, trying to keep yourself from staring at Larissa. She looked stunning today, her long, silvery blonde hair pulled away from her face, curled into an elegant ponytail. Whenever she pulled back her hair, it emphasized her smooth, porcelain cheekbones and arched brows, drawing attention to the sapphire pools of her eyes… And then there was the matter of her style, so different from Morticia’s and even your own. A high-cut white turtleneck, with a long gold skirt and a matching coat. Oh shit, now you were staring. You coughed and covered your face to hide your blush and followed your friends outside.

The taxi ride to Burlington was a bit tense, as the cab driver was suspicious of outcasts, and Morticia’s goth aesthetic coupled with Larissa’s impressive height never failed to make them stick out. The three of you breathed a collective sigh of relief as you were all but dumped outside the mall entrance.

Morticia set the pace for the day, as she usually did, dragging the two of you in and out of various shops until she found something worth trying on, which was how you found yourself sitting on a chair in a dressing room, waiting for Morticia to try on outfit after outfit. For each dress, she gave you quite the show, twirling around and showing off, tossing you a wink and blowing kisses in your direction. You humored her, giving her the “oohs” and “ahhs” she so desperately desired, telling her which dresses were “simply made for you!”

Little did you know, Larissa was watching from the sidelines, absolutely seething. Seeing how you responded to Morticia, to the dark, provocative things Morticia tried on… so completely the opposite of the conservative, drab things she herself normally wore. If she was going to get your attention, she was going to have to step up her game.

“Larissa, did you find anything?” You asked her softly, noticing that the blonde was lost in her own thoughts.

“I did, in fact,” she answered rather smugly, brushing past you towards a changing room and all but slamming the door behind her.

Minutes later, the door to Larissa’s changing room opened. She emerged and your breath caught in your throat.

“Rissa?” She looked… different, that was for sure. The sleeveless black gown was a stark contrast to her alabaster skin, you racked your brain but you weren’t sure you’d ever seen her wear all black before. It clung to her curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, bringing a flush to your cheeks. Her breasts all but spilled out the top - you were sure you’d heard her complain before about Morticia wearing similar low-cut pieces.

“Do you like it?” She was breathless and looked very eager, a shy smile plastered on her face, cheeks dusted pink, and you thought it was the cutest smile you’d ever seen - you couldn’t possibly tell her you thought it was a bit… out of place on her. Maybe she wanted to branch out a bit? And you had to admit you didn’t really mind the extra bit of skin showing. You bit your lip and nodded, relishing in the grin that spread across her face at your approval.

“God, I’m exhausted after all that shopping,” you giggled a short while later, as the three of you stood in line at the food court. “I can’t wait to sit down and eat.”

“Rest your head on my shoulder, mon cher, it’s the perfect height,” Morticia cooed, drawing you into her and allowing you to rest against her. You hummed absentmindedly and Larissa’s shoulders stiffened from where she towered over the two of you. You eyed her with interest, wondering why she was suddenly so tense, but you didn’t have time to linger on the thought as Morticia pushed you up to the counter to order lunch for the three of you.

~~~

You were always the first to arrive to botany class, and as such you saved your friends' seats around you. Soon after, Morticia arrived, Gomez trailing behind her like a lost puppy. She slid into the empty chair next to you and Gomez took a seat at the table behind you.

“Where’s Larissa?” You craned your neck towards the door, wondering if you’d somehow missed her.

Morticia let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s having some sort of identity crisis. She’s coming.” She sounded annoyed, and just as you were about to ask her what exactly she meant by “identity crisis”, Larissa walked into the classroom.

It quickly became apparent what Morticia had meant. The girl had traded her signature cherry-red lipstick for something darker, a plum color similar to what Morticia generally opted for, and even her eye makeup was considerably darker than usual. She also seemed… shorter somehow? You couldn’t quite place it, but she didn’t seem to tower over everyone quite as much as she usually did. She took her place behind you, next to Gomez, and you turned around, worry marring your features.

“Larissa, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Her eyes widened imperceptibly, brows knitting together as she offered you an unnerving grin.

“It’s just… yeah. Nevermind. You look good,” you offered weakly, smiling and turning back around as your botany teacher, Ms. Morrison, was starting the lesson.

“Miss Weems, we’re looking at Triphyophyllum peltatum today. Could you be so kind as to tell the class which family this plant belongs to?”

“Umm… is it Droseraceae?”

Ms. Morrison’s brow creased. “Unfortunately, Miss Weems, that is incorrect. I expected better from you.”

You stole a glance at Larissa, who gazed sheepishly down at her desk. It went like this a few more times, Larissa answering questions incorrectly and Ms. Morrison becoming increasingly more annoyed.

When the bell rang, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, it belonged to Larissa. She was definitely closer to your height now. Weird. You were brought out of your daze at her next words.

“You’re good at botany, right?” She fiddled nervously with the hem of her blazer.

“I mean, I think I’m pretty decent, yeah.”

“Well… clearly I’m pretty shit at it. There’s no way I’m passing the midterm like this. Do you think you could tutor me this semester?”

You were taken aback by the request - you’d always thought Larissa was intelligent, way smarter than you were, she was top of nearly every class. You’d never dreamed of having to tutor her in anything. But judging by today’s lesson she really was struggling, and you would never pass up the opportunity to finally get to spend some one on one time with her - away from Morticia’s prying eyes, no less.

“Of course, Larissa. I would love to. How about you come to my room after dinner, my roommate won’t be there and it’ll be quiet,” you grinned at the flush this brought to Larissa’s face. She agreed and you parted ways, spending the rest of your day with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about your study date with Larissa.

~~~

After dinner you all but ran up to your dorm room. This would be the first time you’d spent time alone with Larissa and even though you knew it was only a study date, you wanted to impress her anyway. You freshened up your makeup and decided to throw on your favorite forest green cardigan, just as you heard a knock on your door.

With a deep breath, you opened the door. Larissa stood before you, her makeup still, well, extremely overdone. She wore a short skirt paired with a black, lacy blouse that had nearly all the buttons undone, drawing attention to her cleavage and the scarlet bra she wore underneath. You gulped and drew your attention back to her face, stepping back a bit to allow Larissa to step into your room and (hopefully) giving you time to cool the blush on your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink? Tabitha convinced Ms. Morrison to let us get a mini fridge in here and we just stocked it up last weekend. Or I could make you tea or something?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Larissa smiled shyly, sitting gingerly at the edge of your bed and playing with the hem of her skirt.

You plugged in your electric kettle and waited for the water to boil, a comfortable silence falling over the dorm room as you prepared two mugs. The tea bags were on a shelf next to your desk, just out of your reach, and you grunted as you pushed yourself onto your toes, stretching out to grasp for the box.

“Rissa,” you complained loudly, turning towards her and giving her your best pitiful pout. “I’m too short. Can you reach the tea bags for me?”

Larissa made to stand up, then hesitated a moment, hovering over the edge of the bed. “Umm… I don’t know. I… yeah I’ll see…” she stepped over to the shelf, reaching towards the box but her arm wasn’t quite long enough. “Sorry… I can just climb on the desk though, it’s fine.” She seemed frustrated with herself as she clambered up in order to reach the shelf and pull down the box of tea bags for you.

You took the box from her, eyeing her as she slipped back down and stood there awkwardly as if waiting to be dismissed.

“Did you shapeshift?” you asked quietly, watching Larissa out of the corner of your eye as you poured the boiling water into the mugs. Larissa nodded, folding her arms across her chest and seemingly caving in on herself, eyes trained on the water kettle in your hand.

You nodded back, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, and handed her one of the mugs, a white mug with a rainbow unicorn.

“Soooo… Larissa Weems is bad at botany?” you teased, pinching her side and moving to sit on your bed, curling your legs under you and patting the empty spot at your side.

Larissa looked like she was about to argue, then thought better of it and swallowed thickly, coming to sit beside you.

“Y-yes, well I took a look at the homework that’s due next week and I don’t understand any of it, I’m afraid.”

“Then let’s start there,” you gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed your textbook from where you’d tossed it at the foot of the bed earlier, scooting closer to her until your thighs pressed together and you could feel her warm breath on your cheek.

As the evening wore on, you’d gotten a fair bit of studying done, but the botany textbook was soon discarded on the floor of your dorm room. The two of you were laying on your backs, giggling about something that had happened in class the other day, when you decided you were going to be brave.

You reached out until you felt Larissa’s hand, warm against your own. You threaded your fingers between hers, lifting her hand up and tracing the faint lines on her palm with the pad of your thumb. You could hear her breath hitch next to you, which only spurred you on.

“Larissa?” You turned your head to face her, waiting until your gazes locked, and for a moment the air around you stilled, your stomach turning pleasantly.

“Yeah?” There was a beat of silence, the only sound was the rustling of some leaves outside the window. Larissa’s eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, warm breath coming out in ragged puffs.

The door to your room slammed open as your roommate stepped over the threshold and tossed her bag unceremoniously at the foot of her bed. You groaned, slamming your eyes shut and giving Larissa’s hand an apologetic squeeze.

“Y/N, what are you - oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Tabitha’s eyes widened as her gaze fell to your hand, fingers still intertwined with Larissa’s. “I thought you’d be done by now, it’s nearly 2 am.”

“It’s fine,” you pushed yourself up on your elbows and gave Tabitha a meek smile. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

Tabitha offered you a salacious smirk as she crossed over to bed and plopped down, crossing her legs. “So what have you two lovebirds been up to?”

“Tabitha!” You tossed your pillow at her head and she let out a hearty chuckle, catching it and grinning at you, but saying no more.

Larissa was frozen in place next to you, cheeks rosy, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” You slid to the edge of your bed and offered her your hand, praying you weren’t overstepping, grateful when she beamed up at you and took said hand.

Throwing a glare back at Tabitha (who had the decency to at least pretend to look ashamed), you guided Larissa up the two flights of stairs to her dorm room, apologizing profusely for your roommates utter lack of manners.

“It’s fine,” Larissa giggled, her hand warm and so very soft in your own. “She seems funny, and like she cares about you.”

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess,” you rolled your eyes playfully, having arrived at the door to Larissa’s room. “So, umm… I was thinking maybe we could meet at the Weathervane after class on Thursday? You know, to study… or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Larissa’s smile unnerved you and your gaze dropped to the ground, you suddenly felt a bit lame for even suggesting it. Would she even want to go with you? Didn’t she have better things to do? “I can’t wait.”

You looked up, meeting sapphire eyes that danced with excitement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You stood in line at the Weathervane, humming quietly to yourself as you waited for the barista to take the order of the businessman in front of you. A pair of gloved hands came to rest over your eyes, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin.

“Guess who?” The smooth, English accent of the low voice in your ear gave her away in an instant.

“Riss,” you grinned, pulling at her wrists. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, it was too tempting!” Larissa pulled you into a one-armed hug, which you gladly reciprocated, enjoying the closeness to the object of your affections.

“What can I get for you?” The barista - Kevin, if his name tag was anything to go by - eyed the two of you warily. It was no secret the disdain that the normies held for outcasts, and even though you were used to it in your daily interactions here in Jericho, it still stung a bit.

“I’ll have a cappuccino. Larissa?”

“Could I get a hot chocolate please?”

Kevin nodded, ringing up your order. “That’ll be $6.00 even.”

“Allow me,” you swatted away Larissa’s hands as she reached for her purse and proceeded to pay for the order, then ushered her towards a booth at the back of the café.

“Thanks for paying, you didn’t have to,” Larissa’s voice was quiet, as if she hoped you wouldn’t hear her, and you reached out to hold her hand across the table. “I wanted to,” your thumb stroked the back of her hand and she ducked her head, looking up at you through mascara-coated eyelashes. Your heart began to thump erratically in your chest and you considered closing the distance between the two of you as a shadow appeared next to the table. Kevin cleared his throat, awkwardly placing your mugs down in front of you and shuffling away.

You sat back with a huff, groaning internally at another moment lost to some external intrusion. Even when Morticia wasn’t there, the world seemed hell-bent on ruining every intimate moment you had with Larissa.

The girl in question took a sip of her hot chocolate, setting the mug down between the two of you and pushing it across the table.

“You have to try it, it’s the best I’ve ever had!”

Your gaze flicked down to the mug, eyes drawn to the lipstick mark at the rim. It was the exact shade of plum that Morticia always wore, you noted. You picked up the mug, gingerly, as if it would shatter in your hands. For a brief moment, you wondered if you should drink from that exact spot. Be daring, you told yourself. Your pulse skyrocketed at the thought. How would Larissa react? You locked eyes with the blonde, who watched you eagerly.

You chickened out, placing your lips on the opposite side of the rim and taking a sip.

“Mm, yeah, it’s really good!” Larissa grinned smugly, clearly proud that she’d been right to make a good recommendation.

You pulled out your botany textbook, deciding you might as well do what you’d come here for and at least help the struggling girl a little bit. She was a quick learner, which was good, considering you were finding it harder and harder to focus with her leaning across the table - her breath ghosting over your face, her perfume clouding your senses, her cleavage on full display.

Your mugs were long empty and the evening crowd was slowly clearing out of the café. The sky outside the window was casting hues of orange and pink on the table, on Larissa’s porcelain skin and silver hair. She looked ethereal in this light, her eyes glistening, leaving you entranced. Kevin was starting to sweep the floors, his gaze flitting in your direction every so often - probably a sign you should be getting up to leave soon.

“I think he wants us to leave,” you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and eyed Kevin as he moved to clean the espresso machine, his eyes wandering again over to your booth. You were the only two customers left.

“I don’t want today to be over,” Larissa admitted with a sigh, pulling your attention back to the striking blonde.

“I don’t either…” It was now or never. “Larissa… do you think maybe you’d want to go on a date with me?” You held your breath as you waited for a reply.

“Like… a real date?” Larissa’s eyes shone with wonder, her tone was hushed, as if she was afraid you’d take it back.

“Yeah, no studying or anything like that. A real date.”

Larissa beamed. “I would love to.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Perfect. Maybe we should get out of here now though, before Kevin over there bans us from the Weathervane permanently or something. I would hate for you to have to miss out on your hot chocolate.”

Your teasing earned you a hearty laugh and Larissa took your hand as the two of you darted from the café.

~~~

Larissa took your breath away from where she stood at the center of the quad. Her hair hung long and pin-straight down her back, her plump lips were painted a shade of deep purple, her sapphire eyes dark and sultry. Today she’d opted to wear the black gown she’d tried on when you’d gone shopping with Morticia, and you needed a moment to tamp down your blush before making your presence known to her.

“Hi,” she replied breathlessly.

“You ready?” She nodded and you led her out of the school and down the winding path to the lake. Butterflies erupted in your belly as the back of your hand brushed against Larissa’s, and your heart constricted in the most pleasant way as Larissa took your hand in her own.

You walked in companionable silence until you reached the docks. Once there, you tossed down your bag and sat at the edge of the dock, pulling at Larissa’s hand and urging her to sit next to you.

“Thanks again for tutoring me,” Larissa said softly.

“Of course,” you scooted closer to her, hearing her breath hitch as your thighs met. “I get to spend more time with you this way. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I think you’re really beautiful.”

Larissa’s gaze met yours, hope swirling in those sapphire pools. “You do?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I do,” you confirmed, bravely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her shiver beneath your touch.

“Sorry, it’s a bit chilly,” Larissa giggled, and you took the opportunity to pull her into you, rubbing your palms gently over her bare arms.

“I mean, yeah, you’re barely wearing anything,” you retorted, burying your face in her neck, dangerously close to her cleavage, breathing in her intoxicating scent. It completely overwhelmed you, made you dizzy with desire, and you had to place a hand on Larissa’s thigh to steady yourself.

“I mean, apparently it worked,” she leaned back slightly to wink at you, causing your heart to flutter. “Like pretending I needed a tutor.”

“Wait… what? Pretending?” What did she mean pretending?

“Yeah…” Larissa twisted her fingers in her lap. “I-I pretended to be bad at botany to get you to talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d never thought Larissa would lie to you like that. Morticia had manipulated you during your relationship, you knew that much, you were even used to it, but Larissa? You thought she was different.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Because of Morticia. Because you were her property.”

“Her property?” That had you seething. You were no one’s property.

“No, shut up, not property-” Larissa’s eyes were wide with panic now, she tried to lay a gentle hand on your arm but you pulled away as if you’d been burned, sitting back on your heels.

“No, don’t tell me to shut up! You are like a clone of Morticia!”

Larissa’s dark lips fell into a pout, her chin began to wobble. “No, wait - I mean, I just thought you liked that… you like her!”

“I liked you more. The old you. Not whatever this is.” You waved a dismissive hand over Larissa’s form, causing her to shrink back and cross her arms over her chest. You almost felt bad at how insecure she looked, but you were too angry to care.

“Is that why you’re wearing all this? Is that what the makeup is? Because you think I want you to look like Morticia?” you spat out. You’d spent the last year with Morticia, you didn’t want to spend another year with her clone. You’d really liked Larissa the way she was.

Larissa flinched at your tone, at the pure venom dripping from every word. “Morticia looks really good,” she shrugged, eyes downcast, twisting her hair between her fingers as her eyes began to water.

“I don’t care what Morticia looks like. That’s just her style. I liked your style. I liked how you looked.” You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder and turning on your heel, before chancing a final glance at the blonde.

“And you know what?” Larissa looked up, watery eyes meeting yours, pale tear tracks streaking her cheeks. “You didn’t need to shapeshift to impress me.” Larissa bit her lip as you stormed off back towards your dorm, not stopping until you were facedown in your bed. You were eternally grateful that Tabitha had chosen that evening to spend the night with her boyfriend (“just in case you and Larissa need some alone time”, she’d said with a wink, you recalled bitterly).

The tears flowed freely then and you allowed yourself to cry into your pillow. You couldn’t believe Larissa had betrayed you like that, that you’d fallen for something so stupid. Of course she was good at botany. She was good at everything - she didn’t need you. And did she really think you were so vain, so shallow, that you only wanted Morticia, that you only wanted Morticia for her aesthetic and her body?

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, wondering how you’d ever face Larissa again. Wondering if she really thought so little of you. Wondering if the Larissa you’d fallen for was gone for good. If she’d want you anymore. If you even wanted her anymore. Your stomach clenched and and your heart ached as sobs racked your body, only stopping when the first rays of morning sunlight began to filter in through your curtains and exhaustion finally overtook your body and threw you into a fitful slumber.

~~~

You’d successfully managed to avoid Larissa for a few days after that, but eventually you had to go to botany class. You were nearly late, and annoyed to find that Morticia hadn’t saved you a seat. Your usual seat was occupied by Gomez, who was doting on your ex-girlfriend - and she was soaking up every bit of attention she was getting. Good for her, she deserves it, you thought, at least she’ll leave me alone for a few days.

The bad news was that this meant you were stuck next to Larissa. She gave you a meek smile as you slid into the seat next to her, which you returned half-heartedly. You were happy to see that at least her face was devoid of makeup, save for some mascara and her signature red lipstick, and that her hair was curled again and pulled back into some fancy updo.

“Can anyone tell me which plant we’re dealing with here today?” Ms. Morrison asked.

Larissa raised her hand and Ms. Morrison gave her a curt nod.

“Atropa belladonna - deadly nightshade.”

“Hm. Thank you, Miss Weems. Good to have you back.”

Larissa continued to impress, even correcting your answer at one point as you worked on a group assignment, to which you only responded with a raised eyebrow. Larissa bowed her head and lowered her gaze to her own paper, chewing at her lip to keep from saying anything else.

The rest of the week was rather lonely. Morticia was distracted, having apparently been thoroughly romanced by Gomez. They seemed to spend every free period making out in some corner of the quad, Morticia straddling Gomez’s lap and giving the students of Nevermore Academy quite the show.

More than anything you wanted to talk to Larissa, but you didn’t know how. It was like every time you were in the same room, your mouth went dry. You were still wary after having been lied to - sure it had come from a good place, she’d wanted to impress you. But by pretending to be a ditzy airhead version of Morticia? Did she really think you were that stupid?

Divine intervention took over and the decision to talk to Larissa was taken off your hands when you were sitting in the quad, reading, knees tucked under your chin, as a shadow appeared behind you.

“Hey.” Your heart clenched as you realized how much you’d missed that soft voice.

“Larissa,” you looked up at the taller girl - she was definitely back to her normal height, as she now towered over you again.

“May I sit?” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest as she waited for a response.

“Of course,” you scooted over to give her more space. She left a few inches between the two of you, and seemed rather stiff.

“Those two won’t leave each other alone, I can barely go back to my room. They’re just so damn loud all the time.” There was a hint of annoyance in Larissa’s tone and you followed her gaze towards Morticia and Gomez, who were enjoying each other’s company on the other side of the quad.

You snorted, closing your book and watching the pair with amusement. “You could always come to my room,” you offered, somewhat unsure about your proposal but knowing that, despite everything, you’d love to spend more time with her.

You heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to watch Larissa’s face carefully - she seemed to be grappling with something.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted,” Larissa began timidly, “I made an assumption and it appears I was wrong. I thought you would like me more if I changed myself. I didn’t think I was interesting enough to compete with Morticia, because I’ve always been second best to her. I didn’t think this would be any different.”

“Well I don’t think you’re second best at all… not to me anyway,” you took Larissa’s hand in yours and laced your fingers together. “I fell for you long before you decided to become some sort of weird Morticia clone.” It had slipped out before you knew what you were saying, and a heat rose in your cheeks, all the way to the tips of your ears.

“You fell for me, huh?” Larissa’s cheeks looked just as pink as yours felt.

“Maybe,” you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind going to the Rave’n with me?” Larissa met your gaze, cocking her head to the side in question.

“Yes! I mean no, no I wouldn’t mind!” You blurted out, internally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. Larissa let out the breath she was holding.

“Be sure to ditch that ghastly makeup though. It may suit Morticia but I much prefer your lipstick.” You winked and Larissa’s lips twitched up into a hesitant smile.

Larissa leaned in, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth, leaving behind a light stain of red lipstick and causing your heart to flutter pleasantly.

Suddenly, long arms enveloped you and dragged you onto her lap, drawing a loud squeak from your chest.

“Since when has the Larissa Weems gotten so bold?” you teased after regaining your composure.

Larissa sunk her teeth into her plush lower lip, clearly weighing her next words carefully. “Since I saw Morticia do that and decided I wanted to know what it was like.”

“And?” You were breathless, you were both breathless.

“I think I could get used to it.”

thank you to @afeatherformills for the beta, as well as my gf for swooping in with some last minute ideas to save my ass lmao.

tags for those who may be interested: @orchidsshine @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired

#larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems #larissa weems

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