#i was only gonna do one set tonight and then go to bed at ten | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perotovar · 3 months ago

Text

this protector — oneshot

moodboard by me

pairing: dieter bravo x din djarin rating: E (18+) content: slight angst, mostly fluff and smut, weed, dry humping, heavy makeouts, unprotected p in a, anal fingering word count: 3.1k dividers: @/saradika-graphics beta: @for-a-longlongtime (ily)

a/n: written for @burntheedges 's Roll-A-Trope! i got "dieter + only one bed". apologies for this being a couple days late! 🥺

summary: dieter and his bodyguard, din, get the wrong hotel room. i wonder what happens...

masterlist | follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

“I don’t see an issue.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make the best of the situation!” Dieter exclaimed, planting himself on the lone bed in the hotel room then flopping onto his back.

Dieter’s bodyguard, Din, felt like he’d aged ten years in the last five minutes. He exhaled a heavy breath and watched the actor’s form carefully.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m taking this threat seriously. I get death threats on social media all the time,” Dieter scoffed, sitting up to cross his legs on the mattress.

Din blinked, looked toward the ceiling, and rolled his eyes. “I wish you’d take this one a little more seriously. They had addresses.” Din made his way to the table in the corner of the room and removed his backpack, taking out his supplies for the evening. His hands brushed over the cool metal of his sidearm at the bottom of the pack. Hopefully he won't need it this evening.

“We’ll be fine,” Dieter groaned, rolling across the bed to ungracefully get back onto his feet. “I’m gonna take a bath, go ahead and do whatever it is you do!” The hotel bathroom door slammed shut shortly after, leaving Din in the room alone.

“I’ll be calling the hotel staff because they didn’t give us the right room,” Din grumbled, punching the numbers on the room’s phone.

Dieter was more worried than he let on, but he knew he’d be okay. Din was his personal bodyguard and had been longer than anyone else. Dieter knew he could be a lot for some people, but he was glad to see Din’s professional stoicism outlasted any personal issues he may have had.

Resting in the hotel bathtub with some 90s R&B playing quietly from his phone, Dieter exhaled a heavy breath and shut his eyes.

The threat came from an account that had his own face as their profile picture. He knew his fandom was just as weird as he was, but he didn’t think they’d threaten his life or his career like that. Unless the person was pretending to be a fan of his. Somehow, they knew which hotel he’d be staying in and where the film would be shooting, so he had to have Din attached at his hip at all times. Not that he was complaining, Din was hot as fuck.

Who was he kidding, Din had never given Dieter the indication that he ever wanted to sleep with him. Did that hurt Dieter’s feelings a little? Obviously, but he wasn’t going to let anyone know that.

After spending long enough to prune up in the tub, Dieter got out, wrapping a towel around his waist.

When Dieter came back into the hotel room, Din was focused on his phone, typing away.

Sometimes, when whatever upper he’d taken earlier in the day had worn off, Dieter would come back down to his normally introverted self. He quietly made his way to his bag and put on some pajama pants and comfy socks. He decided against wearing a shirt tonight.

“Hotel won’t give us a room with another bed,” Din sighed, looking away from his phone and setting it down on the table next to him. “They say all the rooms are booked for the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh,” Dieter hummed quietly, pulling out a baggy of weed and his favorite pipe.

“I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

Dieter frowned as he cracked open the hotel window. Crawling onto the bed, he got all the pieces necessary laid out in front of him. “You don’t have to do that,” he said softly.

Din’s face was always hard to read, but it was especially so now. “Are you suggesting we both sleep in the bed… together?”

Dieter took a hit, held it for a moment, then exhaled. The smoke hovered around him as he shrugged noncommittally. “Why not? I’m not going to… do anything to you so,” he coughed.

Din blinked, his eyes softening slightly. “I didn’t think you would, I just… I figured it would be unprofessional.”

Dieter’s head started to feel a little lighter, fuzzier, and that made him chuckle. “Yeah, because that’s so easy with me,” he rolled his eyes, taking another hit.

“True,” Din huffed and stood to take out his own pajamas from his pack. “I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

The bathroom door was shut before Dieter could protest.

Everything Din did was efficient. His nightly routine took exactly twelve minutes, but this time he stayed in the bathroom for three minutes more.

Sleeping in the same bed with Dieter, technically his boss, wasn’t how he was planning to finish his evening. He knew Dieter, probably better than most people, so he knew the actor was harmless.

But Dieter had this boyish charm to him that Din couldn’t fucking resist. He couldn’t believe he voiced that he was worried about things being unprofessional. He wasn’t worried about Dieter breaking any unspoken rules, but himself.

Din always kept a respectful, professional distance between him and the Oscar-winner and it worked for him. He hated that he fell for Dieter’s charms like so many others. The only difference was that they all had just an idea of who Dieter was, whereas Din knew his true self.

Dieter’s true self was sweet, shy. Definitely eccentric and weird, but he had an incredible sense of humor and great taste in music. Din wasn’t very good at… people, or talking, so he never really engaged in Dieter’s excited rants about things, but he always appreciated them from the sidelines.

A knock on the bathroom door startled Din out of his thoughts.

“Hey, are you done in there? I gotta pee so bad!”

Din couldn’t stop the smirk from growing on his face.

An hour later, Din was laying on the bed close to the edge with the hotel blankets covering him from the waist down. He was checking in with Dieter’s manager and signing off for the evening. Dieter was curled up next to him a respectful distance away.

“Hey, Din?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” Dieter mumbled.

Din plugged his phone in and set it down, looking back at the actor with a frown. “What for?”

Dieter sighed. “Making you share a bed with me, I know it’s not… I know you probably don’t want to.”

“You didn’t make me do anything, Dieter,” Din said softly. “Besides, this is my job. If anything, I can guard you easier from here.”

A flicker of sadness crossed Dieter’s features before he chuckled humorlessly. “True. G’night, Din,” he mumbled, turning onto his side away from Din and turning the lamp off.

Din bit his lip in thought, but ultimately didn’t push anything. “Goodnight, Dieter.”

3:37 AM

Din has always been a light sleeper, but especially so when on the job. So, when he hears Dieter moaning and groaning in his sleep, it doesn’t take much for Din’s eyes to open.

Dieter was often very cuddly, but he always kept a respectful distance from Din. Din supposed that changed once he was asleep, because it wasn’t long before Dieter was curling his arms and legs around the guard’s entire body and squeezing tightly.

Dieter made a satisfied hum in his sleep and cuddled closer, resting his head on Din’s broad chest.

Din froze, then subtly moved his arms so it was more comfortable. The actor made a quiet noise in his sleep, making Din watch him carefully. Dieter’s hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions. Din thought it was adorable, and before he could stop himself, tangled his fingers into the thick curls.

“Mm, keep doing that,” grumbled Dieter, voice thick with sleep.

Din froze, tugging on Dieter’s curls in the process. A quiet gasp left Dieter’s lips, making the actor lift his head to blearily look at his bodyguard.

“Wha’ y’ doin’?” Dieter slurred, rubbing a big hand over his face.

Din’s face was like stone, but he blinked rapidly as his cheeks warmed. “Um. Y-you were cuddled close and it woke me up,” he whispered.

“Ohh, sorry. I can move–”

“No, it’s okay. Just– Just go back to sleep, Dieter.”

Dieter furrowed his brows, assessing Din’s motives before a smirk grew on his face like he’d just clocked Din from across the room. He saluted Din sleepily and giggled. “Sir, yes sir!”

Din rolled his eyes, but smiled to himself when Dieter rested his head on his chest again.

“You’re warm,” Dieter hummed. It wasn’t long before he was snoring again.

Din snorted and shut his eyes. “Thank you.”

Din woke up at 6:30 every morning. It would be a miracle if Dieter got out of bed before 10am. Thankfully it was a day off, so Dieter didn’t have anywhere important to be for once.

Even though Din’s eyes were open and he was awake, he didn’t move. Couldn’t move, actually.

Dieter was clinging to him and subtly, well, humping Din’s thigh. There was no way Dieter was fully conscious.

Din took a deep breath and steeled himself. He looked down and the sight before him was probably one of the most erotic things he’d seen in a while.

All in Dieter’s sleep, the actor was rolling his hips against Din’s muscular thigh and burying his face into the bodyguard’s torso, mouthing at the thin material of the shirt. Din was sure if he weren’t wearing anything, there’d be a hickey on his chest.

“Mm,” Dieter moaned quietly.

Din blinked, then looked towards the growing bulge in his own pajama pants.

“Dieter,” Din whispered. When the actor didn’t respond, Din tried again, voice sharper.

”Huh? What, what happened?” Dieter stirred awake, eyes still mostly closed.

”Um, y-you…” Din gulped, unsure how to say anything. This was probably the least composed he’d ever been on a job.

Dieter squinted at him, trying to figure out what was wrong. When he felt something twitch against his leg, he looked down, then froze. Dieter slowly looked back up, but never removed himself, his leg still curled around Din’s waist.

“You, uh…” Dieter cleared his throat, a shy smile gracing his features. “You want some help with that?”

Din’s eyes widened as his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Dieter giggled, leaned over, and kissed the bodyguard languidly. Din made a noise in the back of his throat, but slowly melted into it, kissing the actor back. Dieter hummed happily, crawling onto Din’s lap properly.

”I have lube, gimme a sec,” Dieter breathed and nipped Din’s bottom lip. He quickly got up from the bed and tossed his pajama pants to the floor, leaving him stark naked in the hotel room as he dug through his bag for the lube.

”D-Dieter, wait, this isn’t—“

”Do you not want to?” Dieter asked, standing over his bag, hard cock protruding proudly from between his legs and lube in hand.

Din blushed. He looked away for a second and asked whatever god above that would listen to make this not weird afterwards. He exhaled a heavy breath, and turned back to the actor.

”I do.”

Dieter felt like his face would split in two from smiling so hard.

They’d been making out for what felt like hours. Din’s cock was starting to throb between them. Dieter had removed Din’s pajamas like he was a piece of precious art and Din wasn’t sure how to react to that.

”Din, please, I’m ready,” Dieter pouted, humping Din’s thigh impatiently.

Din chuckled and nodded. “Alright,” he paused, holding Dieter’s pudgy hips. “Hand me the lube, please.”

Dieter grinned and leaned over, passing the bottle to Din’s strong hands. Din drizzled a generous amount onto his two middle fingers before pulling the actor closer to him. The sensitive heads of their cocks brushed against each other, making Dieter gasp weakly, and Din hiss in pleasure.

”C’mere,” Din grunted, pressing Dieter’s chest against his own so the actor’s ass was poking out and slightly spread from how he was sitting. “Relax for me,” he whispered.

The first press of Din’s middle finger against Dieter’s rim had the actor’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. The temperature difference between the lube and Din’s warm body had him shuddering hard.

“That’s it,” Din hummed, pressing his middle finger inside to the second knuckle.

”F-fuck—!” Dieter gasped, his face buried in Din’s neck.

”Mhm,” the bodyguard grinned, slowly working Dieter up to a second finger. It wasn’t long before Din was pumping his two middle fingers inside Dieter’s tight hole, the lewd squelch from the lube nearly echoing off the hotel walls.

Dieter moaned, rolling his hips back against Din’s fingers as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits. His eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the handsome, competent bodyguard underneath him.

His cock oozed pre-cum onto Din’s belly, the head flushed a deep red color. “Want you… inside me,” Dieter panted, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Din watched Dieter closely, fucking his fingers at a steady pace. “That what you want?” He asked, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried his best to keep a cool head, but Dieter could tell from the sweating beeding at his temples that he was holding back a lot. The actor wanted to see him let go for once.

”Y-yes. Please, Din,” Dieter pleaded, leaning over to kiss the guard’s neck tenderly.

”Alright,” Din groaned, slapping one of Dieter’s cheeks, but not enough to leave a mark. Maybe next time, Dieter thought. “Get up. You wanna ride me?”

Dieter’s cock twitched hard between them. “God, yes, more than anything,” he groaned.

Din got comfy against the pillows and squeezed Dieter’s thighs. “Go slow, okay? I don’t…” He bit his lip in thought. “Don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”

A crooked smile grew on Dieter’s face. “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy,” he winked. Dieter knee-walked until Din’s shaft was nestled between his ass. He hummed at the feeling and relished in Din’s big hands on his hips and thighs, but he could tell Din was a little nervous.

Dieter cupped Din’s face and kissed him properly, easing Din down from whatever ledge he’d led himself to. “I’ll be okay,” he whispered, lifting his hips. He reached between his legs and slowly, carefully sank down onto Din’s cock.

A punched-out groan left Din’s lips at the tight heat enveloping him. He breathed hard, closing his eyes. Dieter smiled, his chest heaving as his body grew accustomed to the stretch.

”It’s… It’s been a while, gimme a sec,” Din wheezed, pressing his head into the pillows underneath him.

Dieter hummed happily and ran his hands over Din’s strong chest. He did this often enough that his body was already starting to relax. This particular stretch though, knowing it was Din’s cock inside him, had Dieter going a little lightheaded.

Din nodded and looked up at him. “Okay,” he smiled shyly. “I’m ready.”

”Good, because I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Dieter smirked. He lifted his hips and slammed them back down, making himself moan out loud.

Din joined him, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and lips parted in shock.

Before either of them knew it, Dieter was treating Din like his favorite dildo, fucking himself like his life depended on it. He rode Din’s cock lewdly, his own dick bouncing between them and covering their skin with pre-cum.

Dieter tossed his head back as Din’s cock hit his prostate. “Mm, fuck,” Dieter giggled, resting his weight onto his hands on Din’s chest. He rolled his hips, watching Din’s fucked out face closely.

”Fuck,” Din breathed. “You’re so…”

Dieter’s breath hitched a little and he smiled, wrapping his arms around Din’s neck. He kissed the bodyguard’s cheek. “So what, huh?” He teased.

Din groaned and gripped onto Dieter’s pudgy hips tightly, digging his nails in. “C’mere,” he growled, planting his feet onto the mattress to get better leverage. He lifted Dieter’s body enough so he could fuck up into the actor’s body.

Dieter moaned out loud, throwing his head back. Din set a punishing pace, fucking Dieter hard. “D-Din! Fuck,” he gasped. He could feel the weight on his tummy and thighs jiggle with each of Din’s thrusts and it made him blush all the way down to his chest.

A loud smack broke through the heavy, sweaty air as Din lost himself in the pleasure. Dieter felt a sting on his left ass cheek and it made him bite his lip.

“I’m gonna c-come, Din,” Dieter whimpered, feeling his cock throbbing between their bodies.

“Good,” Din growled again, holding Dieter’s soft body close against his hard one. “Come for me,” he panted, not letting up on the pace he had.

Dieter whimpered into Din’s neck and stilled, coming hard over Din’s chest and tummy. He moaned weakly in the aftershocks as Din followed the waves with his thrusts.

Dieter deflated against the bodyguard’s broad chest, catching his breath. Din pet his hair, moving the sweaty curls off his forehead. “Did so good,” he hummed happily. Dieter’s eyes lit up with the praise and it made his head go a little fuzzy.

”Now you. Wanna suck you off,” Dieter decided, voice full of determination. He was down there between Din’s legs before he could protest.

Dieter hummed appreciatively and curled his fingers around the thick shaft, lightly tapping the head against his tongue

”Jesus, Dieter,” Din groaned, hips bucking slightly. Dieter engulfed him in one fluid motion, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. Din moaned, arching his back off the mattress. His fingers tangled through Dieter’s curls and tugged hard. Dieter whimpered, his whole body shivering in response.

His cock twitching heavily and before he could warn Dieter, Din came hard down the actor’s throat. Dieter moaned in shock, but swallowed everything down happily.

Dieter lifted his head off of Din’s cock with a lewd suck and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned and crawled up the bed to cuddle against Din’s chest. “We’re doing that again.”

Din laughed low in his chest. “Not anytime soon, gimme a minute,” he chuckled.

Suddenly, the hotel room phone started ringing, startling them out of their afterglow. “I got it,” Dieter said, standing next to the bed and answering quietly. He hummed along in response to the hotel clerk before saying, “Oh, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.” He hung up shortly after.

”What was that?” Din asked, stretching his body like a lazy cat against the sheets.

”Oh, a room with two beds opened up,” Dieter said, jumping back onto the bed.

Din blinked, his brain slowly catching up with itself. A smile slowly grew on his face when he realized Dieter turned it down.

“C’mere, you.”

Dieter giggled as Din pulled him close.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo smut #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfic #ppcu #oaksfics

137 notes · View notes

aperrywilliams · 2 months ago

Text

The Science Under Suggestion (Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader)

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

Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader.

Summary: Emily's sister is now in DC and meets her sister's colleagues for the first time. She makes a special connection with Spencer, and everything looks perfect until it doesn't. Will her reasons bury any chance between them?

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @babymetaldoll and I are hosting during October.

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

I swear DC airport is bigger every time I step one foot on it. Maybe it's that or the ten-hour flight in my body doing everything extremely exhausting.

As I wait for my luggage, the only things I can think of are a bed and a nap.

Why am I here, though? Well, I'm starting a new job on Monday. After graduating, I stayed in California in a semi-formal position for a couple of months, but I thought it was time to change that.

Although I don't know anything about DC, my older sister has lived here for some years now, so she offered me a spare room and shelter until I could set up by myself.

And speaking of my sister, she is already waiting for me in the airport lobby.

"Bootsy!" she calls me to get my attention as I look around for her familiar face.

"Em!" I called back when I finally spotted her; I ran hazzardly, dropping my suitcases to hug her tightly.

Four years is a long time without seeing your sister. And even if we agreed at a younger age that we would live our lives on our terms, it doesn't mean we don't miss each other.

"It's so good to see you!" Her words are emphasized with a squeeze in our embrace.

"It's good to see you, too. And thank you for having me in your place. I swear I'll find somewhere to live as soon as I can."

Something I don't want to do is to impose; Emily has been thoughtful enough with me.

"Don't be silly. You can stay for as long as you want. Now, come on; I'm sure you fancy a shower and a nap right now."

On our way to her apartment, we use the time to catch up on the last months. As I recounted details about this job offer, she told me about her job as an FBI profiler.

It's funny in some way because even if we live apart and don't talk frequently, it feels the same as the last time we saw each other.

After a shower and a nap, I feel much better. When I look into the living room, I see Emily talking on the phone. "Today? Rossi, I can't. My sister just arrived DC."

Rossi? I think I've heard that name before.

"Okay. I'll ask her anyway."

Frowning still, I look at Emily once she hangs up the phone.

"The team is having dinner at one of my colleagues' house tonight. Come with me?"

I have never met my sister's colleagues, not even from when she worked at Interpol or the local police, much less those from the FBI. That doesn't mean she doesn't mention them from time to time. I know that the boss, Hotch, is serious and strict and that there is a certain Morgan who seems very nice. Emily has also told me a few times about JJ and Penelope and some of their nights out. She also mentioned an Italian man who is like the group's grandfather and the youngest member, who seems to be very intelligent.

"Are you sure you want me there? In a place full of FBI agents where I can embarrass you telling stories about your EMO phase?" I tease, making her snort.

"Ha. Very funny," Emily scoffs. "But I have to remind you it wasn't just a phase, okay?"

Finally, I agreed to go with her. Around 7 p.m., we took an Uber to Rossi's 'house,' which Emily claims is a mansion.

And it is.

And I can't hide my amazement when the owner greets us at the entrance.

“Welcome, my ragazzas! Please come in."

Despite its size, this house feels cozy. Each decoration seems to fit perfectly and makes you feel welcome.

After the usual greetings, Emily takes me to the patio, where laughter can be heard. I feel a little nervous; for better or worse, I will be surrounded by FBI agents who can intimidate anyone.

"Hey guys," Emily calls out, making the attention fall on us. "I want you to know my little sister."

I wave my hand sheepishly.

"Bootsy, this is Hotch, Derek, JJ, Penelope, and Spencer. I have to warn you, though, Hotch is my boss, so be careful about what you are going to say about me, uh?"

A collective laugh erupts from everyone.

"It's nice to meet you all," I greet with a smile that they kindly return.

"It's nice to meet you too," Hotch politely says.

"So you are Prentiss' little sister, uh?" The guy Emily called Derek quips.

"It's great you made it," JJ adds—she is the only one I knew by face from a picture Emily showed me some time ago.

"Bootsy? It's not your real name, isn't it?" The blonde my sister named Penelope asks me. I chuckle, shaking my head and saying my real name.

"But Emily has called me Bootsy since I can remember."

Everyone starts asking regular questions about me before turning to tell them some embarrassing stories about Emily. The only one who hasn't asked anything yet is the guy Emily calls Spencer. It's curious, though, because although he hasn't said a word, he seems very interested in listening to what I have to say.

From Emily, I know he is the youngest team member and very intelligent. What Emily forgot to mention is that, in addition to looking shy, he is quite attractive.

Tall, with messy curly hair, a jaw that could cut glass and gorgeous hazel eyes, it's clear he must attract a lot of attention.

I shouldn't be focusing on my sister's colleague like this, but Spencer is making it difficult for me.

Okay, Bootsy, it's not that terrible either. You are just 'admiring' this human being.

We stay talking until David Rossi announces dinner is ready. Did I say dinner? I correct myself; it is more of a feast.

Emily is sitting on one side, Penelope is on the other, and Spencer is in front. Why do I suddenly feel more nervous? As the conversation flows, I can't help but steal a few glances at him, and I can feel his eyes on me. What is he thinking? That I am a creep scrutinizing him with audacity? I hope he's not noticing it.

Dinner progresses, as does the conversation and the good time. It's refreshing to feel this comfortable. Now I understand why Emily feels so comfy with them.

At one point, I step out onto the patio to get some fresh air and feel the warm May night. It's different than the warmth you get in California this time of year. My eyes are fixed on the night sky when I feel someone behind me. I turn around and see Spencer looking at me curiously.

I frown and tilt my head in fake recollection.

"Spencer, right?"

Sure, like if I don't remember.

"Yes," he says, repeating my name like a question. I nod.

"Yeah. Or Emily's little sister or Mini-Prentiss. Whatever you think is best."

"Bootsy?" He asks, and I chuckle.

"Well, if you like that one, it's okay, too." A wide smile accompanies my answer.

He clears his throat and changes his weight from one toe to the other.

Is he nervous?

"Uh, did you know the word nickname is derived from the middle English' ekename,' literally meaning 'also-name'? They differ from pseudonyms, which are usually used to conceal one's identity. Actually-"

Spencer stops himself from speaking as if he realizes he did something wrong. With a crimson spreading on his cheeks, he starts to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I usually do this, and I know it's unrequited."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Spurting facts," Spencer says, pulling a face.

"You don't have to apologize for that. On the contrary, I find it interesting," I tell him honestly. "What else were you going to say?"

A shy smile precedes his next words.

"Well, nicknames played a significant role before the 13th century in England, where surnames were very uncommon. Physical characteristics played an important role in nicknaming, as people were identified by means of descriptive terms such as barefoot, brown, and Russell, many of which have become common surnames. Nicknaming in Portuguese and Spanish-speaking communities served as a means to distinguish between family members, especially those sharing both a first name and the family name."

Does he really know all that? Emily wasn't lying when she said he was the smart-ass guy in the group.

"Wow. I really didn't know that, and it's really fascinating. Do you study those things?"

"Uh. Ehm. No, but I usually know a lot of things."

Really dude? If so, I could listen to him talk about everything all night.

"That's cool, Spencer."

"Thank you. Uh - can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Why Bootsy?"

I chuckle. "Curious man I see."

"It's in my nature," Spencer says with a shrug. "But if you don't want to tell me, that's fine," he adds.

"No, no. It's okay. It's not a big deal either," I assure him. "My family says that when I was a kid and wanted something, I was unstoppable. I wouldn't stop chasing the person I wanted something from, and when my words couldn't persuade, I'd make my eyes look like the Puss in Boots cartoon. That's when Emily named me Bootsy. See? Nothing special."

A genuine smile crosses Spencer's face.

"What about you, Spencer? Something embarrasing to share with me?"

That's how we spend the rest of the night, glued to the hip, talking about everything that came to mind. It surprises me how easily and naturally the words flow between us. It's been a long time since something like that happened to me with someone.

Am I overthinking this connection?

I don't know, but Spencer has been nothing short of excellent company tonight. And although I would love to stay and chat with him for a while longer, it's time to go home.

After announcing my departure and thanking him for the night, he stops me before I turn to leave.

"Uh. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm overstepping, but I need to ask. Would - uh, would you like to grab a coffee sometime?"

It's hard not to notice the stutter in his voice and the blush on his face, and he's so adorable I want to kiss him right now. However, I restrain myself and flirtatiously reply that I would love the idea. I ask him to pass me his phone, and I write down my number. "Use it wisely," I tell him, winking before leaving after Emily, who is saying goodbye to everyone.

"Why so smiling?" Emily asks me while we are in the Uber riding back to her apartment.

"Me? I'm not," I refute, and Emily laughs.

"Sure you don't," she says with a knowing look.

In the days that follow, coffee with Spencer is a regular occurrence - as long as they're not on a case out of town, of course.

I think I've already told you the man is attractive. Well, now I have to say that's not even a quarter of what fascinates me about him. He's so caring and understanding, and I could listen to him talk for days.

I've also learned a little more about his story, mainly about his childhood and his career in the FBI. He also knows more about me, and I feel so comfortable that it scares me a little.

I think I like my sister's colleague. Scratch that; I definitely like my sister's colleague.

And I don't want to be cocky, but I think he likes me too. Now, the question is who will make the first move.

I don't have to wait long. Days later, at one of our regular coffee meetings, a no longer so nervous Spencer asks the question I have been waiting for.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Did I make him wait for my positive answer? Of course not!

Our first date is going great. As always, our conversation flows naturally, and time flies. Spencer has been very gentlemanly, too much for my liking.

Well, if he made the first move, I can make the second.

As we leave the restaurant, I subtly take his hand and intertwine our fingers. Spencer looks at our joined hands and then at my face, and a big grin appears on his face.

We walk the blocks away from my apartment - Emily's apartment, to be precise - enjoying the warm night. We stop in front of the building.

"Here is me," I announce. Our hands are still laced.

"Yeah," he sheepishly acknowledges.

After giving his hand a loving squeeze, I reluctantly let go.

"I had a great night, Spencer," I say, keeping solid eye contact with the man. Those hazel eyes that are driving me insane right now.

"Me too," he whispers, not even blinking. "Can we do this again?"

There is nothing I want more than that.

"Of course we can."

"Great."

And we stand there, silently looking at each other, trying to figure out if there is anything else to say or do.

His eyes subtly fall to my lips, and it's like my heart stops. My breath catches in my throat, and only one thought plagues my head: Kiss him.

Slowly, he leans in, testing the waters. And I do the same to close the gap.

"Dr. Reid? Is that you?"

We both jump when we hear someone talking next to us. Spencer's flushed face turns to the strange, and his eyes wide in recognition.

"Anderson," Spencer mumbles, apparently the guy's name.

After snapping out of my daze, I watch as Spencer exchanges words with the man, but their voices are drowned out by the sound of 'Dr. Reid? Is that you?' in my head.

Dr. Reid? What? Is Spencer a doctor? It can't be!

The color drains from my face, and I don't know what to do. How did I never know that? I don't notice when the man walks away, and a worried Spencer is looking at me.

"There is something wrong?"

Yeah. Now everything is wrong!

"Oh. No. No. Nothing," I stutter. The only thing I want is to run. Escape.

I thought he was perfect. It is unfair.

"Are you sure?"

Of course, Spencer isn't convinced. I wouldn't be either. But right now, I don't care. I just have to get out of here.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," I say suddenly, turning quickly to enter the building. A stunned Spencer watches me go. In the distance, I hear him calling my name, but I don't stop. I run up the stairs. My hands are shaking, and there's a fog in my head that won't let me think.

Breathlessly, I open the door and slam it shut. I press my back against it as I try to breathe.

Oh God. Why? Why?

"Bootsy?"

I don't notice Emily getting up from the couch and approaching me with concern.

I can't talk to her now. I can't speak to anyone now. I go straight to my room with tears streaming down my cheeks.

It couldn't all be so perfect, right?

You've probably heard the phrase: 'They just wouldn't understand.'

That's exactly what I would say now. What seems inexplicable to people is, to me, the source of my dismay right now. After crying all night, I avoid Emily's questions and Spencer's worried calls and texts the next day and the days follow.

I feel bad for leaving Spencer in the dark, and I feel tremendously guilty because he feels responsible. Gosh, he didn't do anything wrong except be a doctor - I checked it on Google - three times!

I can't date a doctor. I just can't.

As the days go by, Spencer's calls and texts stop. I tell myself it's for the best.

The one who isn't willing to accept my evasions is Emily.

One evening, after returning from a case and seeing me on the couch with teary eyes watching The Notebook, she decides that enough is enough.

"The Notebook? Really? Okay, spill," Emily demands, sitting by my side on the couch.

I shook my head in denial. "There is nothing to say, Em. Stop it."

"Nope. I'm not stopping until you tell me why you are like this. Bootsy, I've watched you suffer in silence for days, and it breaks my heart."

Clearly, my words aren't convincing enough, and knowing Emily, she won't let this slide this time.

"What happened with Reid? Did he do something? Because if he did, I'm going to kill him," she threatens, and my eyes widen in horror.

"Emily! No!"

Her peril mode stops, but the frown on Emily's face doesn't disappear. I think it's time to come clean.

"Spencer didn't do anything wrong. It's the opposite, actually." I don't think this is enough clarification, but it's something.

"And that has you reeling? I don't understand."

I huff in frustration. I'm at one step to a childlike tantrum.

"Why he is so perfect?!" I whine, not having in me to keep my composure anymore. Emily's brows furrow in sheer confusion.

"Is he?"

"I mean, yeah! He is so sweet, so caring, and intelligent, and hot. It's unfair, for fuck sake!"

I can stay all night reciting all the good treats Spencer has, and I don't think I could cover them all.

"I don't know if I would say all those things about Reid, but okay. I still don't understand why that is a bad thing."

I roll my eyes. Do I really have to say it?

"He's a doctor, Em! Why is he a doctor?!"

I don't know if Emily's confusion can be greater than what she surely has at this moment.

"Is that a rhetorical question? You know people get a doctor's degree after finishing their PhDs, right?"

I sigh heavily, leaning my head back, eyes on the ceiling. Emily scoots closer, a soft but firm voice leaving her lips.

"Bootsy, you know I love you, but if you don't look at me and start explaining what's gotten into you, I'll have to slap you across the face, okay?"

Still sniffling, I straighten up and look at my sister

"I can't like him, Em. I swore never to date a doctor!"

"Why - What are you talking about?" Emily's eyes change from confused to concerned.

"Do you remember when we went to see that gypsy fortune teller?" My sister narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. Were we what? Ten years old?"

I nod, swallowing hard to keep at bay my emotions.

"I was ten, you were twelve. The thing is, I asked her the age at which I would meet the love of my life, and she told me she couldn't tell me. But what she did tell me was I should not fall in love with a doctor. If I did, I was going to suffer, and my life would be a total misery."

Emily's eyes are wide open now in disbelief. I knew this would happen, and that's why I haven't told anyone about this before.

"Bootsy, don't tell me you are doing this because of what a crazy old lady told you fifteen years ago."

"No! I mean, I didn't believe her at the time. But then Randall happened," I whine, downcasting my gaze.

"Randall? Who the fuck is Randall?"

"When I moved to California, I met a guy who was in med school. He was doing his pediatric specialty at the time. We dated. And he broke my heart. And after Randall, I dated Alex, who was doing his PhD in Sociology. He left me, too. After that happened twice, I remembered the fortune teller's words. She was right, Em, so I swore not to make the same mistake again."

"Oh Bootsy, why did you never tell me about those assholes?"

I shook my head in dismissal.

"You were with the Interpol at the time. I wasn't going to bother you with something like that."

"Fuck, Bootsy. You should have told me."

"Em, it's okay-"

"It's not okay! You have been harboring this 'karma' for years, completely unfounded." There's something in Emily's eyes that catches my attention. Regret? Guilt?

"What?" Emily grimaces, and I see her hesitate. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss hesitating? That's new.

"You were so obsessed with Doogie Howser when we were kids. You always said you wanted to be like him or that you were going to marry someone like him. And you talked about it all day long. When we went to the fair, my friend Samantha and I spoke to the fortune teller first and paid her to tell you what you heard."

Emily pauses to gauge my reaction, which I can't even identify. I'm confused, stunned, and hurt all at once.

"I'm so sorry, Bootsy. If I had known how deeply her words touched you and what happened to you afterward, I wouldn't have done it."

"But - but she was right," I mumble with a cracked voice.

"No, sweetheart, she didn't. You just met shitty guys. It's not your fault, and it shouldn't dictate your future either."

It takes me a while to take in Emily's words. What I believed for years was not true, even though the facts pointed to it being so. So what am I left with now? Was it always me making bad decisions?

"Spencer," I mumble suddenly. "Spencer must hate me right now. What did I do, Em?"

"I'm sure Spencer has a lot of feelings for you, but hate isn't one of them," my sister assures me. "And always you can blame on me."

"But Emily, it's so embarrassing. He'll laugh in my face when I tell him why I've been reacting like this these days."

My sister tells me again that Spencer will understand, but I need to talk to him. I must not let this opportunity to clear things up pass me by.

Without a second thought, I get up from the couch, grab my keys and my coat, and head out to explain this mess to Spencer. It's the least I can do, even if he kicks me out afterward.

Following Emily's direction, I quickly arrive in front of Spencer's apartment door. I stand there with my fist, ready to knock.

Breathe, Bootsy. Breathe.

I knock one, two, three times.

I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. The door slowly opens to reveal a confused Spencer.

"Hey," I say, releasing the breath I'm holding. Spencer scratches his neck, thinking what to say, I assume.

"Hi," he mumbles, and it breaks my heart because his voice sounds so unsure.

Come on, Bootsy. Say what you come here to say.

"Spencer. I'm sorry. I owe you an explanation. I know I don't deserve to be listened to, but please, hear me out. I swear I'll leave you alone after," I assure him. Quietly, Spencer opens the door for me to enter.

Closing the door behind him, he turns to look at me.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, and I want to cry.

"No! Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise."

"So what happened that night?" Spencer asks, alluding to the night I ran away. "Was I too forward to try to kiss you?"

"No. It was all my fault. I swear. Can I tell you an embarrassing story?"

Frowning, he nods nonetheless, signaling to the couch for both of us to sit on.

After taking a deep breath, I recount the time I was 10, and with Emily and her friend Samantha, we went to a fair and saw a fortune teller.

As I go through the story of my failed relationships, I expect to see annoyance and disbelief on Spencer's face, but none of that happens. He listens intently, patiently waiting as I make up my own lines about how stupid it all was.

By the time I finish speaking, I avert his gaze, ready to hear his words of rejection. I'm prepared for him to kick me out of his house.

"You must know I'm a man of science, right?"

Here we go—the rejection.

I nod shyly and am surprised when one of his hands rests on my knee.

"Some scholars say that in order to demystify certain precepts, it is necessary to carry out systematic experiments to bring science under suggestion."

I frown and tip my head, trying to understand where this is going. A sheepish smile appears on Spencer's face.

"If you agree, I would like to refute what the fortune teller told you - even if it never was true and experience indicated it was - with evidence."

A slight blush creeps on my cheeks as he leans closer to me.

"And how can we do that?" I ask, eyes fluttering.

"Testing. Over and over again," Spencer whispers, his breath fanning my lips. "Are you interested? For science, of course."

My heart skips a bit, and the anticipation is killing me.

"Very," I manage to say, and I'm about to combust.

"Good," Spencer says before finally closing the gap between us with a passionate kiss.

His lips in mine must be the best science experiment I have done in my entire life. And maybe the first good decision that will change my bad luck in love.

Well, who would have thought? It looks like I can actually date a doctor after all. Spencer is confirming that fact for me right now, and I couldn't agree more.

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #babymetaldoll #aperrywilliams #writting challenge

130 notes · View notes

xxcallmemaryxx · 25 days ago

Note

Could I have a HC of IV letting reader wear his jacket?

He’s a sweetie, his intentions are pure. But sometimes you make him a little bit evil. There’s nothing ten bucks can’t fix. :)

IV x GN reader

Under the cut ~ <3

“IV it’s gone I can’t find it-“

“It’s probably in the car, quick let’s go we’re already gonna be late.”

You guys stayed up late last night. IV had the guys over for dinner, they ended up staying back for some drinks and before you knew it, it was 1am. After a long night of hosting you both crawled into bed, dead to the world in mere moments, and didn’t set any alarms for the plans you’d made for the following day.

A text from ii is what woke IV up, something about traffic and it being best if you two took another route. Which is how you find yourself here. Rushing around the house like psychos trying to get ready as quickly as possible. Except your good jacket, which you had hung by the door especially to wear today, is gone. You can’t find it. And you have no idea where it is.

“IV, I’m gonna be so fucking cold if I don’t have it.”

“I’ll buy you a new one when we get there if I have to, just get your cute ass in the car.”

Spoiler: it wasn’t in the car.

And now you’re on your way to the meeting spot you agreed to meet everyone at, pretending that you’re not even bothered by the cold. Of course the gathering today had to be in a nice park, it’s lovely and it’s quiet. But there’s not one part of you that can enjoy it. You're already dreaming of a hot shower tonight.

“You’re a terrible liar, love.”

“IV, just drop it. I'm not in the mood.”

You frown at the ground. It’s damp and it chills your feet through your shoes. You can’t help but silently wish you didn’t come out at all today.

“One day you’ll realise you’re lucky to have me.”

You can’t even question him on his cryptic comments because your thoughts are immediately cut short. He’s draped something over your shoulders, you don’t even care to find out what it is because the only thing you can acknowledge is that it’s warm. The chill in the wind isn’t nipping at your skin anymore. It feels like you can suddenly breathe again. And when you do all you smell is him.

He’s given you his jacket.

Your head snaps to him. Worry immediately eating at your chest.

“Now you’re just going to be cold why did you-“

Oh.

He was wearing two jackets.

“You were wearing two?”

“Yeah. Thought it was going to be colder but I’m just a bit too warm. Was gonna take it off anyways. Lucky you, huh?”

“This whole time? What kind of evil are you?”

He’s smiling at you. He literally doesn’t care. Because you’re wearing his jacket and you look stunning in it.

“The kind of evil that always comes prepared. I remembered two jackets. You didn’t even remember one.”

You’re huffing and rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him, but you’re smiling. You feel much better now, and you feel so lucky to have him.

“Thank you. But in my defence I didn’t forget it, it’s gone from where I left it I don’t know what happened… I was sure I-“

“Don’t worry about it, love. The day is saved. Now go say hi to the girls. They’ve been dying to see you.”

“You’re an angel, IV. I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without you.”

“Freeze to death, apparently.”

He sends you off with a kiss to the top of your head and a swat to your backside. He watches you part ways for a moment, admiring you dressed up in his favourite jacket. It makes his heart swell and his cheeks warm. It empties his brain and fills it with the impurest thoughts imaginable at the same time.

He watches the girls welcome you into their circle, IIs there as well. He’s happy you get along with his friends. He’s happy they love you.

His ogling is interrupted by a clap to the back from III.

“We get it, mate.”

“Shove off, prick. You’re already on my hit list.”

He has the gall to chuckle.

“Mission success, then?”

“It won’t be if you don’t keep your fucking voice down.”

“Pay up, then.”

IV huffs with a roll of his eyes, but reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a tenner. Slaps it into IIIs palm and shakes his head.

“You couldn’t wait five minutes, could you?”

III can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, yet again.

“Pleasure doing business, sweetcheeks.”

He saunters off with a smile that screams trouble. Headed straight for you. IV watches him say his hellos to you, compliments your ‘new’ jacket with a sickening smile and seamlessly inserts himself into the conversation you were having with II.

He briefly overhears you asking the tall son of a bitch where he disappeared to last night. He makes up some excuse about forgetting to turn his stove top off. IV can’t help the scoff that escapes him. But he doesn’t have long to dwell on it.

“You actually had him do it?”

Vessel stands next to IV, watching you all cozied up in his jacket.

“I asked him to hide the jacket, fucker took it home with him completely, I have no idea how I’m getting it back.”

“You know he’s going to con you out of another tenner, right? He planned this.”

“Yeah well. I can’t say I’m surprised. Plan worked though.”

“You know, I’ve heard just asking your partner to share clothes works wonders.”

“Alright, enough out of you. Keep your mouth shut.”

Vessel can’t help but laugh at his friend, a big old sweetie pie on the outside with a little bit of something sinister on the inside. Even if it means he ends up with more work in the end.

Vessel claps IV on the shoulder and walks him over to the rest of the group. IV zeros in on you. Comes up behind you and pulls you into his side. You’re in his jacket. You smell like him. You’re surrounded by his friends and you’re glowing.

He’s a very happy man today.

He doesn’t leave your side the whole time. As if you wearing his clothes wasn’t enough, he just needed to keep a hand on you all day as well. You learnt a long time ago that IV gets into these moods, you’d compare him to a lost puppy during these times. He follows you around with hearts in his droopy eyes and a smile that could tell a million stories. He’s so soft and gentle, and listens to every word that slips from your lips. (Except for the ones that tell him to leave you alone.) (You do not need to pee with the door shut.) (You’d think you’d get that by now.)

Sometimes he can reel it in. Like today, surrounded by his friends. But you know just beneath the surface his urges are festering. Every little squeeze of your hand. Or kiss to the forehead. Or quick little cuddles when the wind picks up, are his ways of trying to dampen his own urges to whisk you away, take you back home and bury you both back in bed.

He thought he’d be able to handle seeing you with his name all over you all day. Guess not.

There’s one moment, while you’re out, III was hungry and Vessel wanted a coffee, so you decided to take the short walk to a nearby cafe just down from the park. You and IV hang back, slowly following along but far enough away to be in your own world for a little bit. His hand is intertwined tightly with yours and he’s pulled you so close your arms keep brushing.

“You look stunning, love.”

It’s said in a low murmur, like he wants it to be a secret. A secret that only he knows how good you look. Your nose and cheeks are slightly pink from the chill in the air, your lips are a little bit cracked and his jacket drowns you. But to him you’re just beautiful. The smile you give him almost sends him into cardiac arrest. He thinks if his heart beats any faster it’ll create enough energy to power your house.

He ponders Vessels words. Wonders how you’d feel if he just outright asked you to wear his clothes when you go out together. Or when you go out without him. Or when you’re home for the day. Or when you’re going to bed. He knows you’d say yes, but there’s something about you being so oblivious that gets him all excited. How you unknowingly just let him dress you. Thinking it was pure coincidence, and that you really are just so lucky to have him.

He might tell you one day. He knows he’ll cop a good amount of teasing from you, but until then he’ll settle for watching you feel so at home and safe with him all over you.

____

“What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong, Bub?”

“My jackets back there.”

IV quickly turns to see what you’re looking at. Mid way through tossing his jacket back there now that you’re back in the car, he follows your eyes to the backseat.

And there it is.

Bunched up on the floor like it was there the whole time.

“I must be blind or something, I swear it wasn’t there this morning. Fucking hell… all that and it was here the whole time…”

He turns back to the road and bites back an amused smile.

III might put him through strife sometimes, but he’s clearly not stupid. He makes a mental note to send him a text when you two are home.

Lucky bastard lives to see another day.

Thank you for reading. I love you guys.

#idk if it’s clear but iv paid iii to hide your jacket #iii took it home with him instead #he loves to cause trouble #oh well. iv still got his wish.#sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token x reader #iv sleep token #iv sleep token x reader #sleep token iv #sleep token iv x reader #wine spilt #marys musings

96 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago

Note

It's like a knife that cuts right to my soul

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @cosmic-psychickitty @shanimallina87 @real-sharena-h

Companion piece to:

Six Pack (NSFW) - You realise the man waiting for you isn't Dean Winchester.

Memories (NSFW) - Michael invades your home whilst you're away.

Sweet Dreams - Dean thinks about how this all started.

Deals With the Devil (feat: Michael)- You wake up with an angel in your bed.

Ten Years - You make a deal for Dean's life.

You meet Michael at the lake where Dean told you he loved you for the first time. It’s on the outskirts forest, just over the boundary line, marked by the jetty that protrudes out into the water.

The sun is just starting to set when he arrives, the pink and orange light playing across the water as you sit on a chequered picnic blanket watching as the waves lap the shore.

You’re beautiful, truly you are. He understands in this moment why Dean Winchester fell in love with you, how he’s come to fall in love with you. He takes up residence on the blanket beside you, his palm coming to rest on the back of your neck. You tense underneath his touch, but his thumb rubs a soothing circle underneath your ear and you exhale, your shoulders relaxing.

“This is a special place for you.” He says quietly as he studies the profile of your features.

“Yes.” You say.

You don’t need to tell him anymore than that. This was the first memory that Dean ever showed him, the one that ignited the spark. He didn’t understand humans before then, their capacity for love, the depths of it.

“I know what you like.” He tells you, his fingertips combing lightly through your hair. “Trust me Harlow, it’ll be just like it was with him.”

“You’ll be gentle with me won’t you?” You whisper and he gives you a reassuring smile before he guides you onto your back.

“Oh sweet girl.” He murmurs as he guides you onto your back. “We’ll take it as slow as you need to, we aren’t in any rush tonight.”

He kisses you then and it feels like drowning, the softness of your lips, the way you taste, the heat of your mouth as his tongue delves inside. He’s lived with another man’s memories for months now but they don’t compare to the real thing.

“I want to see you when I undress you.” He whispers, his lips brushing over the curve of your throat. “Get on top baby.”

You do as you’re told, your thighs straddling his hips. Your hands capture his, drawing them up above his head pinning them to the blanket. He bites his lower lip as his hips arch against you, his cock rubbing against your core through your clothes. It gets him off when you take a little control, something to remember for next time because there will be a next time. Michael’s not giving up this body, not if it’s the only way he can have you.

Your head dips low, your mouth brushing over his and he moans at the sensation as you reach behind you and untuck your shirt.

“You gonna fuck me like this?” He asks you, his head tipping back, his eyes fluttering closed as you grind down against him.

“No.” You whisper before you take the knife that was sheathed underneath your shirt and drive it straight down into his chest. “I’m going to kill you like this instead.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #supernatural

79 notes · View notes

sunflowervoltwentyeight · 7 months ago

Text

Happy 28th! Here is my May 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Were Such Fools by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (98k)

Rule #1: The Rewind Machine cannot be used to change the past, only to experience it. History will reset itself to the original timeline every 24 hours.

On his fiftieth birthday, two things are consuming Harry’s mind: what he’s going to make the kids for dinner tonight, and the fact that his marriage is crumbling at his feet.

So, when his best friend gifts him the trip of a lifetime, Harry chooses to venture off to the summer that set his life on its course—all the way back in 1987, California.

It only took him one summer to fall in love with his husband the first time around. How hard could starting all over really be?

Once Bitten and Twice Shy Series by pinkcords / @pinkcords (60k)

once bitten and twice shy (19k) This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended. These Stars Will Guide Us Home (41k) And then he’s gonre. Harry watches him take off his shoes, sort his belongings into bins, and keeps watching until he vanishes entirely, around the corner to his gate. Louis doesn’t look back and Harry can’t blame him, certain his expression, body language, entire being would implore him to stay. It would just make it more difficult on both of them. Louis’ always been intuitive like that, strong enough to make the hard decisions that protect both of them. Or Harry lives in New York and Louis lives in Wisconsin.

Cabin Fever by germericangirl / @germericangirl (46k)

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or:

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

You, In Every Color by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (38k)

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

We'll Be Alright by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove (36k)

"Lou, I know this-"

"Not plan? Of course, this wasn't planned. Harry, this can't be happening. We can't have a kid. We are not even supposed to be sleeping together."

Harry flinched at Louis' words. He was right, but Louis didn't need to be blunt about it.

"I'm not ready to have kids. I said that when we started this… Relationship," Louis stuttered the last word, trying to find the proper wording.

"Do you think I am? I'm not even twenty-four. You are almost twenty-nine! You're at the age where most people start a family."

"Doesn't mean I want to have one!" Louis snapped.

"Well, it's happening," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Be serious, Harry. We can't have a baby. If people find out, you'll be fired."

Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He suddenly felt small. He didn't expect Louis to be excited. This wasn't the best news for their situation, but he thought he'd be happy.

"I know, Louis."

Or Louis is the Captian of Liverpool FC and Harry is one of the team's physiotherapists. They have a secret relationship going but things become complicated when Harry finds out he's pregnant.

Host of a Name by Signofcomfort / @signofcomfort (35k)

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

Cabin on the Bluff Series by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (6k)

Beech Tree in Autumn (1k) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree. Louis presses further still. Without so much as a, 'hello,' he's kissing Harry, hard and hungry. Mosquito Bites and Cheap Beer (2k) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. But then the sky behind Louis begins to shift, clouds morphing from piles of gold-tinged wool to scoops of pink and orange sherbet. And at some point, Harry forgets-- forgets not to watch. And when he catches himself, it’s fine. Louis’ watching him right back. Sandwiches on the Shady Shore (2k) “You don’t have to do this,” Louis says. It’s hot in the little kitchen, even with the windows open and a breeze blowing in. Harry feels a flush enfold him from the inside out. “I know,” he says. And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.”

Trust Me to Take You Home by hattalove / @hattalove (4k)

“I made breakfast,” says Harry, and Louis can feel him smile where his face is smushed against Louis’s shoulder blade. “Full English. All for you.” Louis finally opens his eyes, and blinks. “What about the others?” “Asleep,” Harry whispers, “it’s five in the morning.”

or, a clichéd tale of two boys in love and their first valentine's day together.

#28th appreciation #may fic rec #monthly fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

91 notes · View notes

kaybug88 · 7 days ago

Text

Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Teacher!Reader

December 17th:

Shoto Todoroki x Teacher!Reader

"How much did this cost?" "Besides the point, do you like it?" "Of course I do.”

Note: No use of Y/N!

TW: Upsettingly cute fluff, use of pet names (Angel, Love)

WC:

Requested: Nope!・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Finally, lunch.

You love your class, truly, you do, but they are wild; so now you're having your very much deserved break at your desk reading the little note Shoto put in your lunch.

Happy 5th anniversary, Angel. Hope your day is just as lovely as you are, and I can't wait to see you for our date tonight. Left you a new dress on our bed, just for my gorgeous girl.

-Love, your Shoto ♡

Smiling at the note, you pull open your wooden desk drawer and place it with the ever growing pile of notes. Even if you made the lunches, he always leaves notes the night before. Thinking over the words ‘Happy 5th anniversary’ is honestly weird, when you started dating he was just approaching top ten on the hero rankings, now, he was sitting proud in the top three. Smiling, you sink your teeth into your meal, a satisfactory hum leaving your lips. Before you know it, lunch is over and your students are piling into their seats. Putting a piece of gum in your mouth, you get up and get ready to start your personal favorite subject with this class; art.

“Alright, who’s ready for some art?”

You ask your excited kindergarteners who’re all very clearly excited for some time to draw, even if you can’t tell what they’re drawing half the time. After getting the excited kids to quiet down, you continue.

“Today, we’ll be drawing. . . Heroes!”

You said happily, which caused the kids to cheer louder. You chuckle as they break out into their own little conversations about what to draw.

“I’m gonna draw Deku! He’s the best!”

“Nu-uh! Ururavity is better!”

“You’re both wrong, obviously Dynamight is the best!”

“I think Shoto is the best.”

“Chargebolt and Red Riot are awesome!”

“What about Creati? She’s amazing!”

You chuckle at hearing your students converse as you set out paper, crayons, colored pencils, and markers before walking back to the front of the class.

“Alright, everyone! Eyes up front.”

You say to the class, which almost every pair of big eyes turn to you. You clap your hands and prepare to talk.

“Now, I have a very big secret. Think you guys can keep it if I tell you?”

You say, getting eager nods and courses of yeses.“Alright. Well, I have a very special friend who can get your drawings to your favorite heroes to sign for you, but in order for them to sign it, I need you all to be very good for the rest of the week. How does that sound?”

The children go berserk. They all get so excited at the fact you can get their lil’ ol’ kindergartner drawings signed by their favorite pros. How cool! After giving your class a reminder of how they have to be good for their pictures to be signed, they sit back down and get real’ quiet. You have each table send one person up to grab a box of pencils, markers, and a paper for everyone in their group.

You can see each student working hard at their drawings, their little tongues poking out with brows furrowed is both cute and funny to watch.Walking around the room you see multiple drawings of your friends. Lots of Deku, Dynamite, and Shoto, with the occasional sprinkle of Red Riot, Chargebolt, Ururavity, Earphone Jack, and a few others.

Grading. How fun. After all your students went home for the day, you had to stay in the class grading. Sure, it wasn't terrible, but it takes away from the time you could be spending picking up the house or getting ready for your date.

Shoot. Your date with Shoto.

You hastily check the clock and notice you've got three hours until your date. Now, that sounds like plenty of time. However, it's not nearly enough time when you include scrolling through Pinterest on makeup that'll match your dress, finding shoes that would look cute, scrolling on social media, showering and doing your hair! Not only that, but there's probably snow and ice on the roads. You quickly check how much grading you’ve got done, and decide you’ve gotten enough done today.

You don’t think you’ve ever gotten home as quickly as you did today. Hastily parking your car, you dash inside, shoes click-clacking against the concrete driveway, that Shoto so kindly shoveled this morning before you left for work, up to your house. You fumble the keys before unlocking the door and dashing up to the room.

Upon entering the room, your jaw drops. The dress is gorgeous. Most gorgeous dress you've ever seen in fact. Brand new golden golden heels are laid next to the long black dress, they're pointed at the front and have a band that rests just above the ankle.

The dress is a whole different story though. It's long, flowy and feels like velvet. The fabric lays off the shoulder and the sleeves are long, golden rhinestones are embedded into the fabric along your cleavage and sleeves. There's a high slit that reaches about mid-thigh. On the chest of the black dress is a gold necklace and a thick golden ring.

You feel as though you can't breathe, not one bit. Carefully, you run your fingers over the delicate cloth. You let out a shaky breath before pulling out your phone to text Shoto.

Smiling to yourself, you grab your charger before heading to the bathroom to begin getting ready. Getting ready for your date tonight has got to be one of the most exciting things, and nerve-wracking things you've done in a while. Shoto was right, the dress fit you perfectly. Tight in all the right places, while keeping it classy. You almost cried at one point because of how pretty you looked, key word almost. After you're done getting ready, you feel as though this would be a perfect opportunity for a picture after walking back into your shared bedroom.

When Shoto arrives, exactly at the time he told you, you're scrolling on your phone. You haven't been here long, no more than ten minutes.

“Hello, love.”

He greets as he sits down across from you. He looks so good in a suit, it's a little upsetting that other women get to see him in it. He must notice that you're staring because he speaks up.

“Did I do something?”

He asks, his face falling ever so slightly.

“What? No, not at all! You just look so handsome.”

You reassure as he sits down. He looks. . . Nervous almost. Is he nervous? You brush it off before starting a conversation.

“How was work today? Saw that chase on the news today while the kids were doing some writing.”

You ask before glancing down at the menu, seeing a long list of salads, sushi, steaks and other amazing sounding foods.

“It was good, that chase was the most eventful thing I did.”

You hum before stealing a look outside the widow you've been seat next to, soft snowflakes beginning to fall.

And that's how the whole date goes. He's clearly nervous, and when you tried to ask him if he was alright, he brushed it off and only seemed worse! Why in the world would he be nervous, you've never really seen him nervous before. What in the world could be on his mind?

By the time you’ve left and paid the bill, you’re a little concerned. After you left, Shoto took you to your favorite garden, and it looks absolutely stunning now that it’s winter. Cherry blossom trees have snow decorating each and ever brach, the small stream below you having froze over. Snow covered fairy lights are strung across traditional Japanese arches made of red wood. No matter your mood or the day, you’re always brought to peace here, and something that makes this place so special is that Shoto asked you to be his girlfriend here.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

You ask Shoto after a pregnant pause. His steps stutter ever so slightly and you quirk a brow in response. Okay, something is definitely on his mind.

“Actually there is something on my mind.”

He says after letting out a small breath. Neither of you speak until you reach the bridge, exactly where he asked you to be his girlfriend.

“What’s goin’ on, Sho?”

You ask a little nervously. He’s clearly having trouble figuring out how to say what he wants from the way his brows furrow and mouth opens and closes ever so slightly.

“So, Angel, do you know why I love you as much as I do?”

You’re shaking. Is he proposing? Is he breaking up with you? Oh dear, is he breaking up with you?!

“Why?”

You ask with a shaky breath, eyes glossing over at the thought of him breaking up with you or proposing. You still can’t quite tell what he’s doing.

“Well, you’re smart. You’re strong. You’re a hard worker. You’re brave. You’re kind. You’re respectful. You aren’t afraid to be yourself. I love how you always look out for others, and I simply can’t get enough of you.”

He goes on to say while slowly going down onto his left knee, a small black velvet box moving from his pocket and to his hand. How hadn’t you seen the imprint of the box?

“Will you marry me?”

You’re shaking and tears are clouding your vision, and you’re more than sure makeup is streaming down your face.

“Of course! Yes, yes, yes!”

You cried as you got down and hugged him as tightly as you could. You know you’re getting tears and probably mascara on his suit, but you couldn’t care less right now.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

A/N: Stop, I actually loved this 🥹🫶

50 notes · View notes

crybaby-bkg · 1 year ago

Text

victim to my every need

Shinsou Hitoshi x f!reader Warnings: public sex, mall sex, sex toy usage, clit sensitizer, nipple tingling gel, overstimulation, spreader bars, anal play, butt plug usage, vaginal fingering, reader is ovulating, very brief bratting, mention of sadism, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), condom sex, slight aftercare. I think that's it, but pls let me know if I missed anything. Word Count: 5.7k Notes: this is way past overdue lmao but I hope you all enjoy! 🫶🏼 Minors/ageless/blank blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

Settling into bed, you sigh quietly under your breath, lashes fluttering as you snuggle into the pillows behind your head. Finally, some peace and quiet, you think to yourself, instinctively glaring at your wall that your neighbors feel the need to bang against every other night. Well screw them—tonight is for you.

Digging into your night table, you dig out ole reliable; the vibrator that you’ve had for entirely too long that honestly should’ve clonked out on you years ago. But that’s why its ole reliable, with its too loud buzz that always seems to hit the right spot every time. You close your eyes, releasing another breath, spreading your legs overtop of the sheets, and pull your underwear to the side. You’ll be sleep after this in no time.

…Except ole reliable fucking clonks out on you the moment you’re this close to orgasming. You’re in disbelief for a few seconds, clicking the on and off button from memory without having to move from your spot. But, no matter how many times you click it, ole reliable just isn’t turning on.

“Fuck!” You screech, ignoring the bang on your wall from your neighbor. Of all fucking nights, this just had to happen to you. You huff under your breath, finally sitting up in bed so that you could glare at your toy, cursing its pathetic existence as it rolls around your bed.

What were you gonna do? You really needed that nut right now; you were ovulating and hornier than you think you’ve ever been. Your hand won’t be as satisfying, the water pressure in this apartment complex was ass, and you didn’t have any other toys that could get the job done like ole reliable could.

You groan and a run a hand down your face, plopping back onto your pillows as you try to come up with a quick solution. Ordering one online would take too long, and the store that you got it from would be closed by this time of night. As you ponder your options, an idea hits you, and you’re too horny to care about whether or not it was a good one.

…

You walk into the twenty four hour mall with your head basically bowed in shame, scurrying through the open space quickly. Most stores were still open, but you saw on the mall website that their sex store closed at midnight. It was only ten minutes before their doors would be locked, and the walk to the store in the far corner of the mall would eat up all of that time. So you put a little extra boost in your steps, and hope that you make it time.

Which you do, just barely though, as you watch the worker pull out a set of keys from his pockets. You rush over, waving a hand as you call out to the purple haired man,

“Excuse me! Can I get something really quick?” You ask, cringing as your voice echoes in the quietness of the mall. There’s some overplayed tune wafting through the speakers and a few stragglers going from store to store. The worker doesn’t even look up though, back still turned to you as you watch his head shake slightly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but we’re closed for the night. Come back in the morning.” He tells you, a deep voice ringing from the man that echoes slightly. It makes you give pause, something filthy happening to you at the sound of him. Your steps stutter as your thighs twitch, finally taking a moment to take the man in as you step up beside him. He turns to you with his eyebrow cocked, hands pausing though as he looks at you.

He’s handsome as ever, with fluffy lavender hair in the cut of a mullet, and a sharp, angled face. He’s covered in piercings, which shocks you, with one in each eyebrow, another going through the bridge of his nose, another going vertically through his bottom lip. His eyes match his hair, and despite the bags under his eyes, you think he might be the finest specimen you’ve ever seen in your life.

Either that, or your ovulation is making you a madman.

“I’m so sorry to be a bother, but I really need to buy something. Like, really badly.” You emphasize, giving him a small smile as he cocks his head at you. He’s taller than you, wearing a gray hoodie and loose sweatpants that you try not to stare at. You’re not completely shameless.

“Well, if its that urgent, maybe you need the pharmacy on the other side of the mall, then.” His deep voice is low, sarcastic, but you notice that he doesn’t lock the doors yet. Instead, he leans against them with his shoulder, looking down his nose at you as you stand there practically dancing between your two feet.

“The pharmacy doesn’t sell what I need.” You mumble, eyes darting across the mall to see if anyone’s paying you two any attention. A few look toward you, mainly because you’re damn near pleading to be let in the shop called “Trunk’o’Toys” with a very obvious eggplant beside it. You avoid their gazes and look back toward the worker, whose eyes conveniently roll the moment you catch his gaze. He sighs real loud, shifting on his feet as he twirls the keys around his pointer finger.

“Look, sweetheart, I’ve been here all day. I’m ready to go home and smoke a joint or two, and I would prefer doing that sooner rather than later. We’re closed.” He says the last part with finality lacing his tone, making you bite your lip in worry. Despite the time throwing on clothes, driving over here, and conversing with this worker, you’re still wet as ever. Still throbbing in your panties, still feeling as desperate as hell, and the fact that he won’t let you in is driving you up the fucking wall.

The worker goes to lock up the shop once more, but you reach a hand out to stop him quickly. Your hand closes around his wrist, and you think that maybe this is a terrible fucking idea, especially when he freezes and fixes you with a hard glare. Despite this though, you lean in until your mouth is inches away from his face, looking down at the floor and then his soft looking lips, and then the floor again because his mouth is too pretty.

“Please, just let me in.” You whisper, swallowing loudly as you contemplate if you should share all of your troubles. You decide that, if you want what you need so badly, then you should just go for it, damn the consequences that come with it.

“I, um, I’ve been rather, you know…worked up lately,” you whisper, avoiding his seemingly bored gaze. “And work has been hectic, and I haven’t had any time for myself and—”

“Baby, I don’t care about your life story.” The worker interjects but you squeeze him a little harder and finish your explanation.

“And I finally got the chance to—to alleviate some of the worked up-ness, and I got so close, and then.” You stop, swallowing again, suddenly nervous as the worker seems intrigued now. He raises a pierced brow, ducking his head down so that you can look at him again, and you do.

“And then?” He questions, tone suddenly shifting as he licks his lips once. He sees where this is going, and you kinda hate the man for making you say it out loud when he sees how desperate you are.

“And then my vibrator died before I could finish.” You whisper out in a rush, eyes dropping to his mouth that presses in a thin line. “And I—I really need a new one, ‘cause I think I might go crazy if I have to wait through the night.” The air between the two of you is electric, and you finally let his wrist go when you see how he goes from annoyed to intrigued. You take a step back, feeling woozy at the close contact, how your hole still throbs, at how this worker is staring at you. He takes a step forward, closing the gap once more as he looks down at you, with an almost amused smirk on his face.

“And my shop the only shop that can help you?” He asks almost sarcastically, grinning when you frown a little, confused since you just offered him a too personal explanation.

“Well, yeah,” you answer, feeling a little dumb at his question. It only makes the worker grin even harder though, at your uncertainty, how you shuffle on your feet when he leans in real close in your space. He has a hand on his hip, the other resting against the shops doors, and his eyes feel like they’re undressing you by the second.

“You know I’d have to charge you extra. An inconvenience fee, and all.” The worker teases you, cocking his head when he sees you thinking it over silently. As you look down, you catch his name on his name tag; Shinsou. He was a cheeky little fucker, that for some reason turned you on more than you cared to admit, even if he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Yeah, that’s—that’s okay.” You stutter over yourself, swallowing when you look down and catch a twitch between his legs. Your cunt throbs with every second, and you wonder how much more shameless you could get before the night was over. You look up though, when Shinsou clears his throat, lavender eyes feeling hypnotic like a sirens call.

“I can waive the fee, though. But only if—”

“Yes.” You cut him off quickly, nodding your head as you step even closer to him until your shoes bump against each others. You wrap your hands in the front of his hoodie, pouting when he laughs at you, holding your hands in his own bigger, warmer ones as he tilts down to look at you.

“You didn’t even wait for me to tell you.” He teases, skimming his mouth against yours and pulling away with a shit eating grin when you try to kiss him. You pout, uncaring of the few people that linger in the mall, having eyes only for the hot sex toy shop worker that squeezes your hands in his.

“Don’t need to. I’ve been this close to finishing since you turned around, and I’m ovulating like I’m in fuckin’ heat.” You whisper in a confessional to him, eyes going wide after your word vomit. You wonder if it was a mistake sharing something that intimate with a stranger, especially with how Shinsou’s own eyes go wide at your words. But they quickly lower, his lids heavy as he brings you in close by your hips until they press against his, and you gasp at the bulge that pokes at your tummy.

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” Shinsou whispers against your mouth before he pushes the door of his shop open with one fell swoop. You two go falling inside, mouths suddenly on each others, hands gripping and groping everything that you could reach, stumbling until your back hits the front counter. Your hands under his hoodie, moaning at how jacked he really is, how he’s been hiding all that muscle under clothing so big.

And Shinsou does the same, squeezing the fat of your ass and thighs in his palms, consuming you with every peck of his mouth, every lick of that pierced tongue you hadn’t noticed before. You groan against him when he quickly lifts you onto the counter, mouth still connected to his, head tilting as he swallows your every little noise. He pulls back after what feels like hours, after he squeezes at your tit and feels you throb against him, after you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer than he thought possible.

You don’t stop though, tilting down to start mouthing at his neck, one hand gripping his shoulder to pull him in tighter, the other groping his pec. You can feel Shinsou moving around, but pay it no mind, only lean back slightly when he tugs at your shirt. It comes off in one quick motion, and he holds you back when you go to mouth at his jaw again.

“Think I wanna try a few toys with you. ’S that okay?” Shinsou asks, huffing a little and grinning at your wide eyes when you finally see what’s in his hand.

“Tingling gel?” You question, scratching lightly at his nape when he starts digging around for a pair of scissors behind you under the counter. It presses his hoodie to your warm skin, the fabric tickling you as you press your nose against his temple.

“Where do you wanna put that?” You ask in a moan when Shinsou nibbles at your jaw, hearing him cut open the plastic. He answers your question when he suddenly undoes your bra clasps, makes you wonder if the fucker secretly had an extra pair of arms you hadn’t noticed before to be so tricky. Your breasts fall out of your bra with a slight bounce, gasping when Shinsou pulls back to watch. His eyes go low as he cups one tit in his hand, staring up at you from beneath his lashes with an impish grin.

“Right on these pretty little things.” Shinsou tells you, leaning in to lick against your bottom lip, asking against your mouth, “Is that okay with you?”

And you nod as enthusiastically as you can, managing to bump your forehead against his own, pulling a laugh from the two of you. You affirm him, pushing your chest into his grip, biting your lip when he squeezes with a grin.

“Heard this shit kicks in pretty fast, so tell me when it does.” Shinsou murmurs, invested in opening the cap and squeezing some onto his fingers. He warms it between his fingertips, the lull in conversation making you glance up at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“What?” You can’t help but blurt out, suddenly a little unsure of yourself. Here you are, at midnight, in public, sitting on a sex toy shop counter with your tits out, waiting for the hot worker to rub tingling gel on your nipples.

You can’t say that you make the best decisions when you’re ovulating. But Shinsou only grins crookedly at you, leaning in to kiss you a lot slower, a lot gentler this time than before. His warm tongue ring glides against the grooves of your gums and teeth, feeling you gasp into his own mouth as he finally starts working the still cool gel on your nipples.

“Nothin’. You’re just really pretty like this.” He tells you, leaning back to watch the clear gel absorb into your skin, looking back up at you as you watch him. “I never got your name, either.”

You tell him, in a shaky little breath, when he works it into the other nipple. His fingers are thick and stocky, the pads of his fingers rough yet gentle where he massages the gel in. He thumbs at them, plucking them softly to hear you hiccup and moan, wrapping your legs around his waist even tighter when the feeling hits after only a few seconds.

“It’s kicking in already.” You whine, high in the back of your throat as you lean your head back.

“How does it feel?” Shinsou asks against the column of your throat, pulling away momentarily to take his hoodie off, finding him with no shirt underneath. His chest rubs against yours when he leans into you, and it makes your hips buck at the sensation. He chuckles under his breath, grabbing at your hips as he starts to languidly grind his hips into your own.

“Kinda weird. Really good.” You mutter, eyes screwed shut when the feeling intensifies, foreign in sensation. But not bad at all, especially when paired with Shinsou mouthing at that spot beneath your ear, the bulge of his cock sliding against your clit. You can feel him grin, squeezing at your ass as he murmurs against your neck,

“Mind if I up the ante with some more fun?” You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, making him outright laugh this time. When he pulls away, you’re pouting at him, and he can’t help but lick at your protruding bottom lip before reaching under the counter again. You gasp at the contact of his warm skin against your tingling nipples, toes curling as you feel your body going limp.

“Please, hurry up. Touch me, just do something.” You whimper to Shinsou, pulling at the hair on his nape when you hear him cutting another package open behind you. This time, you can’t see what it is, and it makes you all the more desperate. Shinsou tuts at you, nipping sharply on your shoulder, pushing your already sensitive chest into his own to hear you gasp again.

“Such a whiny little thing you are.” He chided, sounding almost disappointed. But you don’t get a second to dwell on it when you hear a buzzing sound behind you. Your back straightens, trying to look over your shoulder, but Shinsou pulls it out in front of you before you can. He holds the toy between you two, something long in shape and purple in color, with what looks to be a suction on the other end that he holds.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was the same exact make and model as ole reliable. You could cry right now.

“Since its fresh out the pack, it doesn’t have much battery life. So let’s put this thing to use, and fast.” Shinsou grins at you, the rose gold bar in his lip shining in the low lights of the shop. He looks heaven sent right now, or maybe hell sent, with his devious grin and glinting facial metal and the fact that he’s waving a vibe in front of your face.

But you take that as a win anyway, nodding mutely as you spread your legs in front of him, finally unwrapping them from around his waist. Shinsou grins at that, forcing the vibe in your hands as he strips you bare from the waist. You press the vibrating toy against your nipples, inhaling sharply when the tingling feeling is only amplified. It’s snatched out of your hand quickly though, making you frown at Shinsou who tuts at you disappointedly.

“Told you it only has a bit of life in it. If another vibe dies on you tonight, I think its just your fault at this point.” He throws back in your face, grinning when your eyebrows furrow and you frown at him.

“Victim blaming, are we?” You tilt your chin at him, watching with lidded eyes as he takes all of you in—your pebbled nipples, your soaked cunt, your quaking thighs, your curled toes. He takes it all in with a bite to his bottom lip, finally pressing the low buzzing toy against your already swollen clit.

“Oh, so you’re a victim now?” Shinsou teases, presses his mouth to yours to feel all your hiccuping little moans and sighs. “All because you couldn’t cum?” The way he spits the words feel derogatory, makes your lip pout and a whimper crawl from your throat. Shinsou coos over you, pressing the pads of his other hand against your slick hole, pecking at the corner of your mouth.

“What a poor little thing you must be, so desperate to cum like this.” His voice is full of faux sympathy, but you eat it up either way. You nod desperately where you hide your face in his shoulder, feel the tip of his middle finger slide so easily into you, that it feels like pure sin. He goes all the way down to his knuckle without a single hitch, groaning low in his throat when you pulsate around him, clit twitching.

“Bet I could make you cum in barely minute. Ain’t that right?” Shinsou’s voice is dripping sex and ecstasy, makes you keen when he starts crooking his finger inside of you, doesn’t waste a single second before he’s already sliding another one in. That one goes in with such little restraint, he wonders if you fucked yourself in the car ride over here. He bites at your shoulder, feeling you arch into him, clinging onto him for dear life.

“Please make me cum, I wanna cum so bad.” You whine to him, wonder how you’ve gotten this pathetic in such little time. But its hard to think when the vibe is working you back up as quick as ole reliable always use to, and his fingers are sliding against your walls so smoothly. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a familiar throb in your pelvis, hips shaking as you pull Shinsou into you, hiding your face in his flesh.

“Already? But we just got started.” His voice is a low drone, makes you bite at his skin at his teasing. But its really to silence your own voice, embarrassed at how quickly you’re reaching your climax already.

It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge, feels like you’ve been edging yourself for over an hour at this point. All it takes is for Shinsou to turn the settings up once on the vibe, for his fingers to graze that ever growing spot inside you, for his voice to be nothing but a lilting whisper into the air to just cum, just let go already. And you do, with a little hiccup and shake all over the counter as Shinsou guides you through it.

When you finally come down from your high, you wriggle your hips away from the toy as much as you can. Shinsou chuckles airily at that, but listens to your wordless command. He drops it on the floor, pulling you away from him a little so he can admire the headiness glazing your eyes.

“You ever cum that fast with anyone else?” He asks you, kissing you gently, sighing when you lap at the seam of his mouth. You take a few seconds to answer, trying to find the earth around you again, before you flutter your eyes open. He stands there, all tall and lean muscle, pushing his fringe back with a soaked hand. It makes you throb more than you care to admit.

“No, just you.” You admit, rubbing a hand over his pecs as you take him in, the now straining bulge in his sweats. You eye it for a while, going to reach down to touch it, when your wrist is caught in a strong grip. You look up at Shinsou, at his low eyes, and almost sleazy grin.

“Well, I bet I can break my own record tonight. Got something even better for you in the back.” He nods his head to the backrooms, and you wonder if you should really go through with this. You already let a practical stranger see you naked, play with your tits and clit, and finger you in a matter of what you think has only been twenty minutes. Who’s to say he won’t go too far in the backrooms with the toys, where only he knows what lies back there?

But then again, who’s to say you won’t like it?

So you bite the bullet, nodding once as you wrap your arms around his neck. The tingling gel is starting to wear off already, but it still buzzes when your skin touches his. You lick from Shinsou’s chin to his lips, tongue grazing the metal in his lip, grinning when he nips at you.

“I’d love to see the rest of the tricks up your sleeve.”

In only a matter of minutes, does Shinsou have you in the backroom, bent over a utility desk, with a few more trinkets grabbed along the way. Your ankles are in a spreader bar after you keep squirming when he put another tingling gel on you—on your clit this time.

“Another one?” You had asked with a roll of your eyes, squeaking when he landed a quick slap to your ass.

“You’ll like this one even better.” Shinsou had promised you, hadn’t told you that the clit sensitizer would be so powerful, could make you so sensitive. He’s glad he put you in the spreader bar, or else you would’ve made yourself cum again and again by just rubbing your thighs together.

It feels like hell now, when he keeps ghosting the tips of his fingers across your swollen clit, feeling it twitch in response, as he tries to relax you. You’re not sure when he got the butt plug, or why he specially chose the heart shaped one, but all you know is that you need to cum as fast as humanly possible.

“Hurry up,” you demand, shifting on your feet, hearing the squelch of Shinsou’s two fingers that pump in and out of your ass. It’s a small plug, light work he had called it, but still wanted to take precautions, as generous as he was. You had never imagined you’d do butt stuff in public on the first date (if you could call it that), but for now, all you can focus on is getting filled.

“Stop being a brat.” Shinsou shushes you, finally pulling out his fingers, and wiping the excess lube on the globe of your ass. “You won’t like me much if you keep it up.” He promises under his breath, as you watch him lube up the plug from over your shoulder.

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” You snipe, eyes fluttering a little when he positions the narrow and cold tip at your rim. Shinsou grins at you, with low eyes and a mischievous look glinting in the too bright lights as he starts pushing the toy inside of you at the same time he starts playing with your clit again.

“Brats typically don’t like brat tamers. Especially ones who have a knack for sadism.” His voice took on an almost warning tone, a challenge, to see if you’d bite the bullet. But you cave almost instantly, flattening against the cold metal desk, thighs quivering as he the toy starts filling you up more and more, your clit buzzing, until you feel like you can’t speak. So, Shinsou takes that as a win, hunching over you to nibble at your throat, smiling when the toy finally settles fully inside of your warm heat and you spasm before going lax.

“So, you’ll be good for me, yeah?” Shinsou questions you, a testy tone taking over his voice as he pecks sweetly at your sweaty cheek. You can only nod meekly, keening high when he pulls the thickest part of the plug out, only to push it back in a little harder, thumbing at your overly sensitive clit.

“Use your words.” He demands, though his voice is still so soft in your ear. You hiccup again, wonder if he knows you came again just from filling your ass. You think you should be ashamed, but that clit sensitizer is living up to its name, and he pinches the swollen nub a little harder than before. It fries your brain instantly, makes you easy and pliant and putty in his hands.

“I’ll be good.” You mumble, swallowing around the drool pooling in your mouth. You can feel Shinsou’s grin, listening to him ripping open a condom as he speaks against your ear,

“Thought so.” It feels so degrading, so demeaning, like you’re just giving up so easily when someone with so much more power looms over you. But it feels so good lying belly up, or really, ass up, and giving him everything he wants. You want it equally as bad, if not more, and you’re willing to give up more than you can admit just to be filled in both holes.

Your back arches high when Shinsou starts sliding his cock inside of your cunt. You have to look over your shoulder to admire the scene behind you, gasping at the piercing just at the base of his cock, wonder how it’ll feel bouncing off of your clit and lips as he fucks you. Keening at the thought of being so close to it, that you start pushing yourself back with every slow second he fucks into you.

“So desperate, aren’t cha?” Shinsou teases, his voice strained, the grip on your hips getting tighter and tighter the more he sinks into you. You want to throw your leg up on the counter to feel him deeper, but the spreader bar keeps you nice and wide for him, and you use as much strength as you can muster to start fucking yourself on his cock. He hasn’t even slid all the way inside yet, but you can’t get enough of him.

Can’t get enough of the wide stretch of his cock, the veins bulging alongside the underside, the warmness of it. How you feel it slide against the plug in your ass, how he overwhelms you by laying all his weight onto you, how he keeps petting at your clit despite it feeling so swollen you think it might burst.

And when he does finally sink all the way into you, you cum again with a loud cry, clit throbbing painfully hard with every brush of Shinsou’s fingers against it.You cum so hard it brings tears to your eyes, makes you clench down almost painfully, body going weak under the weight of him on top of you.

“That’s a good girl. Felt good, huh?” Shinsou says softly, whispering in your ear as his hips never let up on that gentle rocking motion. You can only hiccup a tiny little sob from the back of your throat, overstimulated and shaking all over, feeling the never ending pleasure shooting throughout your body.

Shinsou only coos down at you though, starting to fuck himself into you a little harder, a little faster, until your hips rhythmically start pounding against the edge of the desk. You can only hold on for the ride, moaning too loud for it to be so late, to be in public, but neither one of you can bring yourself to care too much. His cock is carving its way inside of you, an imprint that’ll last forever, feel it reaching the back of your throat.

He holds onto you by the fat of your ass, groaning when he spreads your cheeks. To watch his own cock pump in and out of your messy cunt, how much it drools around him, secretly wishes he didn’t have to wear a condom. Wishes he could help you with your ovulation, but maybe he’s taking it a bit too far, but maybe, you’ll like it more than you care to admit.

He watches how the heart in your ass jiggles with every thrust, every clap of his balls to your overly sensitive clit. How your thighs shake and your feet shuffle, where he’s sure you wanna lift them onto the desk. But he doesn’t let you, just watches the torture of being fucked sensitive overcome you, as you jump and cry out when he plays with your clit again.

In seconds, do you cum again, secretly glad that you start to feel that this sensitizer shit is starting to wear off already. The gel for your nipples didn’t even last this long, or have this strong of an affect! But Shinsou uses this to his advantage, uses your squeezing cunt to chase his own orgasm, feeling his thrusts become unsteady, his voice low and shaky as his hips become erratic.

He cums with a low curse, grunting as he curls over your back, biting at your nape to silence his noises. You sigh in content as you feel his cock twitching inside of you, despite knowing he wore a condom, it sates something deep and primal in you. You lay there beneath him until he catches his breath, sighing as he finally comes down.

You both stay there in silence as Shinsou pulls out, disposing of the condom all the while. After that, he works out the butt plug, unhooks you from the spreader bar, and leaves you on the desk while he retrieves some lotion for your ankles in his locker. You sit up on the desk as he rolls a chair over, feet in his lap as he starts massaging where the cuffs of the spreader bar wore into your ankles. After what feels like hours, Shinsou speaks up,

“So, can I ring you up for that clit sensitizer?” He asks, looking up from under his fringe with a little grin. You laugh heartily at that, throwing your head back as you lean your weight on your wrists.

“Hell no, that shit is the devils work.” You sigh with a shake of your head, watching Shinsou shrug, before tacking on, “Give me two bottles of that shit.” You both laugh this time, before falling into silence again. Shinsou takes your other ankle to start massaging it, which in return gives him a glimpse of between your legs once more. He stares for a second before meeting your eyes, a little smirk gracing your features.

“Should I make a mold of my cock for you to keep when I’m not around?” He suggests with a tilt of his head, making your own eyebrows raise in surprise. You pretend to mull the idea over in your head for a few seconds before shrugging.

“You know what? That’s actually not too bad of an idea.” You admit, glancing down to where his cock is covered again, but you see that telltale twitch once more.

“Really? ‘Cause I’ll start that shit as soon as you leave.” Shinsou gets serious suddenly, although his eyes are full of mirth. You lean forward, feet sliding from his hands to his lap, grinning at the bulge that swells under your sole, the glint in his eyes at your proximity.

“How about I stay and help?” You suggest instead, running a hand through his hair, pulling him a little closer, mouth skimming his. You feel his grin more than you see it, and it makes your stomach twist in knots and your cunt remember just how good he felt only minutes ago.

“That sounds even better.”

#this was so hard to format on the app for some reason #I was soooo annoyed #WHY ME #anyway #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#shinsou treats! 🍬

337 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

Note

Is there any wr Chris Drabble that you can and want to share maybe perhaps

🙏🙏🙏🙏😭 * not in a pressuring way but in a I love this installment and can’t get enough way* feel free to ignore if not!

you know what??? sure! this is a fluffy one that i haven't had a reason to post, so i'll use this ask for that skdjfhskjdf

just fyi i've got a couple horny ones in the works, but they're still not complete 😭 so this is all i can offer for now. hope you enjoy~

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · fluff | established relationship | descriptors of the reader such as: being chubby · pet names · a bit suggestive, but it’s fairly tame · this is barely proof-read, so please bear with me

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: hey pretty > i know we said we were gonna go on a date tonight > but i dont think ill make it baby im sorry :(

< You: aw 🥺 < it’s ok darling < we can go out some other time

> Chris💕🐺: ill make it up to u > i promise

It wasn’t uncommon for your boyfriend to come home late at night. He’d always come through the door complaining about how they were behind on their sprint, or how one of his co-workers deleted hours worth of coding in a single click, or how the entire platform he worked on crashed and they needed to spend overtime fixing it… It worried you sometimes, but it’d become such a natural occurrence at this point it didn’t faze you anymore.

You felt like Chris didn’t even need to promise to make it up to you, you knew he would anyway, but you figured he always felt the need to set his words in stone. Sometimes he’d make it up to you the very next day, sometimes it took him weeks, but he always did, which you appreciated immensely.

By ten in the evening you just knew Chris wouldn’t be home before midnight. He always told you to not wait up for him, that you needed to rest, too. But you found it incredibly hard to fall asleep comfortably when he wasn’t there, so you’d either toss and turn for hours, or you’d drift in and out of sleep until he made it to your bed.

You vaguely registered the front door of your flat opening and closing, just like you vaguely registered the muffled sounds of your boyfriend’s steps around your home until you started to hear the shower. Stretching your limbs a bit, a tiny squeak left your mouth, and you reached for your phone to check the time.

One thirty in the morning.

With a sigh, you locked your phone again and turned to lay on your other side, bringing one of the extra pillows between your thighs for comfort.

You laid there for a while, waiting, until you heard the shower stop completely. You honestly expected your boyfriend to open the door to your bedroom right then, but instead, all you heard was silence. In normal circumstances, you would’ve let it go and gone back to sleep, but as it was, you really wanted to see him, so you got out of your shared bed, rubbing sleep from your eye with your fist as you opened the door and left the room.

Only the small lights on the kitchen were on, but they provided enough illumination to see Chris. He was sitting on the sofa, with his elbows on his thighs and his hands buried in his hair.

As soon as you walked closer, he looked up. With a small smile on his lips he gave you a “Why are you up?”

You yawned, shrugging.

“Sorry I woke you up, pretty”, Chris mumbled, taking a hold of your hand as soon as you were in front of him.

Shaking your head, you placed your free hand on Chris’ shoulder, pushing him just enough to lay back on the sofa so you could straddle him and comfortably settle on his lap. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you flush against him, just as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, mumbling a very sleepy ‘S’okay’ against his skin.

Burying one of your hands in his damp hair, you gently massaged his scalp while bringing an arm to rest on his shoulders so you could pull him close to you as well. Chris hummed, and you felt him relax under the soothing motions of your hand.

Over the years, you’d come to read your boyfriend’s body language quite well–or at least you liked to think so. When he was quiet like this, you could tell something was weighing heavy on his mind, so you’d made it a habit to ask. “Wanna talk about your day?”

Chris remained quiet for a moment, but he still moved his arms from around your waist to bring a hand under your shirt and rest it on the small of your back, while the other cradled the back of your head. After a few moments, he just shook his head, and you hummed in understanding.

You both stayed there like that, quietly enjoying your warmth for a while. Until you finally pulled away from his neck and cradled his face in your hands. Chris just leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh.

He was clearly refreshed from his shower, but you could still see the bags under his eyes, and the small frown on his face. You knew it wasn’t directed at you–or at least you hoped so–it surely had to do with whatever happened at work, so your first instinct was to lean in and press a kiss right where his eyebrows furrowed.

A small smile spread on his face, and his frown seemed to have disappeared when you finally pulled back. With a smile of your own, you leaned in again to press a kiss on his forehead. Then his nose, each cheek, and finally, his lips.

Chris’ lips moulded to yours, kissing you slowly, holding you even closer to him. He was so warm, and the feeling of his fingers caressing your lower back and the ones burying in your hair to angle your head to the side the tiniest bit was quickly igniting the flame of need deep within yourself.

After a few moments of kissing, you rolled your hips. You couldn’t help it, he was right there, touching you, existing, and your body just naturally reacted to him.

Chris tensed with the movement, and he immediately brought his hands to your hips to still your movement.

“Baby…” Chris pulled away from your lips with a sigh, an incredibly tired sigh. “I’m–I’m not…”

It was rare for Chris to not be in the mood for sex, but it did happen every once in a while, usually when he was not only incredibly exhausted, but also worried about something. So you simply smiled at him, dragging your thumbs over his cheeks as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, baby”.

Chris sighed again, looking you in the eyes. His eyebrows were drawn together once again. “I’m sorry, pretty. I’ll make it up to–”

“Baby”, you interrupted him and squished his cheeks, forcing his lip into a pout. “It’s fine. You don’t have to make anything up to me”.

“But–”

“I’m serious”, you pecked his lips, and offered him a smile after. “Don’t go all toxic alpha on me now, hm? It’s literally fine, babe”.

Chris chuckled, and he pulled you down for a brief kiss. “I love you”.

“Love you, too”, you replied simply, relishing the way Chris’ body relaxed under you again. “Now… Sleep?”

Chris looked at you for a moment, mulling your words, until he eventually spoke. “I’d like to… kiss some more…”

You leaned in, not quite pressing your lips to his yet, but close enough so every word made your lips brush against his. “How much more?”

Chris held you tighter. “A lot more”.

So you hummed, right as you finally connected your mouths in a deep kiss.

This was one of Chris’ moods sometimes. He’d just want to hold you, kiss you, rile you up with no real prospect of sex. And you’d lie if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

His plush lips against yours, his teeth tugging your flesh, his tongue brushing yours… Chris was an amazing kisser, and you could honestly spend hours just doing this. Hours of his hands roaming your back, of the satisfied hums and moans spilling from his mouth, of the wet sounds your motions produced.

Of course it made you horny, of course it made him horny… You could feel his hardness under you, enticing you, but being honest, kissing felt just as satisfying regardless. You liked that you could have these moments with your boyfriend, where you could somewhat keep things intimate, but rather chaste–as much as french kissing a werewolf could be considered chaste…

“God, I missed you so much”, Chris mumbled, digging his fingers on the soft flesh of your waist, under your tee.

“Me too, baby”, you mumbled back, barely even disconnecting your lips from his.

You couldn’t really tell how long you spent there, sitting on his lap and ravishing his mouth, but eventually, he pulled back, looking you in the eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears.

His pupils were so deliciously blown, his lips all pink and plump, slick with your spit, and you were sure there was wetness making contact with your core, even with the thin fabric of his sleeping shorts separating your bodies.

“You’re so pretty”, Chris wrapped an arm around your waist, and he cupped your cheek with his free hand. “So pretty and mine. My pretty girlfriend…”

You chuckled, looking at his droopy eyes. “So are you, darling”.

“Mmm…” Chris leaned in again, kissing you briefly.

When he pulled back, you placed your hands on his bare shoulders. “Sleep?”

Chris nodded. “Sleep. Hold on tight, baby”.

As soon as you looped your arms around his neck, and with a firm hold on your thighs, Chris stood up from the sofa, taking you with him and walking languid steps to your bedroom, switching the kitchen lights off on the way.

As soon as he stepped into your room, Chris gently placed you on your feet so you could take the few steps left to the bed.

He placed a quick kiss on your cheek once you were both tucked under the covers. He pulled you close to his body and laid his head on your chest, letting out a sigh of relief once you buried your fingers in his hair and started massaging his scalp.

It was silent for a while, until you started to hear–and feel–the barely audible rumble coming from your boyfriend’s chest. It brought a smile to your face, and, soon enough, you fell asleep as well.

tagging everyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

@staaa96 · @oiminho · @dundullresident · @straylightdream · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @ven-fic-recs · @liminaldaydream · @bintificreads · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @mimzibee @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @toplinehyunjin · @goblinracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @jaiuneamesolitaiire · @goatpeople · @lilramennoodle · @vitrealisbunny · @stayconnecteed · @iadorethemskz @kalihien · @junebug032 · @cecepop15 · @meowmeowhoon · @poutypoutybin · @chai-papa · @seo--changbin · @yeetfellx

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏

223 notes · View notes

vintageshanny · 6 months ago

Text

Waiting for Love - Part Ten

Is This It?

Content: April 1971-August 1972, smut, fluff, and angst (as promised).

Thank you to everyone who’s still reading this. 😘 This is more angst than I usually write, and I’d love to hear any thoughts or feedback! ❤️

Catch up here: Waiting for Love series

April 1971

“So how long can I stay?” Vivien whispered as she played with the tendrils of chest hair escaping Elvis’ pajama top. She was delighted to find a few stray silver ones mixed in. It was like finding four-leaf clovers in a patch of shamrocks.

“Actually baby, I told ‘Cilla I’d fly out ta LA tonight so I can spend Easter with her, I-I-I mean with Lisa,” he corrected quickly.

“So is this it?” Vivien asked softly. “Is this how it will be forever? Just a day together here and there?”

Elvis sighed a little bit, trying not to let his exasperation show. “Baby, I’ve told ya, it ain’t gonna be like this much longer. I jus’ need ta get the timin’ right. Ever’thing’s more complicated when you’re in the public eye.”

“I know, I’m sorry I need you to keep reminding me.” Vivien laid her head on his chest, feeling the soft thud of his heartbeat echo through her eardrum, sending its sweet rhythm into her own body.

“Ya ain’t gotta be sorry, baby. I know it’s hard. Us havin’ ta be apart just means our love knows its own depths, remember?”

Vivien nodded at the familiar words and breathed in deeply, trying to inhale every molecule of his being so she could take him home with her.

*************************************************

January 1, 1972

Vivien was startled out of her sleep by a pounding at the door. What in the world? She glanced in the mirror as she headed toward the door. Her face was still streaked with dried tears, and vague memories of crying herself to sleep the night before came flooding back. Another year of being a kept woman, only seeing her love while his wife was away or for a few nights at a time during his Vegas residencies. Last year at this time, she’d felt so hopeful that things would change soon. Now it felt like she was trapped in this cycle of elation and torment forever.

“I’m coming!” she called out as the pounding grew more adamant. She knew it must be Roxanne, Elvis, or a drunken neighbor pounding on the wrong door. She flung open the door to find Elvis standing there, his own face a mixture of emotions. It almost looked like he’d been crying too, but he wasted no time in closing the door behind him, pinning her up against it, and sticking his tongue in her mouth, his hands wandering over her body through her thin cotton nightgown.

“Woah, Elvis, what’s going on?” Vivien gasped when he finally came up for air.

“It’s time, baby. You’ve been so patient, and it’s time,” he whispered into her ear, still holding her body tightly. “Priscilla said she wants a divorce. I knew she was almost there, and I needed it to be her idea so I’m not the bad guy.”

Vivien’s mouth hung open in shock at this news. “Oh, Elvis! Are, are you okay?” she asked as she tried to keep her excitement at bay, her first thought always for him.

“All I wanna do is be with you, Vivien. I’ve never loved or been loved like this before.” He locked the deadbolt and walked her back toward the bedroom, never once letting go of his grasp on her.

“We can really be together now? Me and you?” Vivien could feel the reality setting in as he pulled her nightgown over her head and laid her gently on the bed.

“Me and you, baby. Forever.”

Vivien propped her pillows up against the headboard and leaned back so she could get a full view of Elvis as he stripped off his clothes. Usually he was somewhat shy about undressing, but tonight he seemed so eager. She could see that he wasn’t fully erect yet, so she reached out to touch him as he climbed up on the bed and straddled her legs with his own muscular thighs.

“Oh God, Vivien,” Elvis moaned as she pumped her hand, his foreskin rolling gently with the movement. “I jus’ wanna make love to ya so badly, baby. Ya still been takin’ those pills, right?”

“Of course,” Vivien whispered as Elvis spread her legs open and lined himself up to enter her.

“Baby, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this moment for so long. Ya officially belong ta me now, okay?” Elvis thrust gently up inside of her, her tight little hole inviting him in, coating him with arousal, stretching around him.

“Elvis, I’ve always belonged to you,” Vivien responded breathily, trying to savor every moment of this feeling. The way he filled her so completely, her body and soul craved his presence inside of her. “I need you,” she moaned.

“I-I-I need ya too baby,” Elvis stuttered out as he began to pulse inside of her, thrusting harder. As he made sure she was taken care of, a single tear rolled down his cheek and plopped onto Vivien’s shoulder. She smiled up at him lovingly and brushed the wetness from his cheek with her fingers.

“I love you so much.” She wished she could stay wrapped in the warmth of this lovemaking forever, all the conflicted emotions of a dying relationship left safely on the other side of the door.

*************************************************

August 1972

“So you’re really going on another tour without me?” Vivien tried to hide the hurt and pain in her voice.

“C’mon now honey, ya know I like ta have ya waitin’ for me when I get home. It gives me somethin’ ta look forward to.” Elvis grabbed her hand and stroked it softly in an attempt to reassure her. “Plus it’s not really a tour, it’s jus’ another boring residency in Vegas.”

Vivien bit down on her tongue, trying to will the tears away that she could feel springing to her eyes. “And who do you have waiting for you out on the road?” The acidity in her voice surprised even her, and she could see immediately from the stony look in Elvis’ eyes that she had crossed the line with this bold accusation.

“Hmm.” Elvis made a strained grunting noise in his throat as he dropped her hand and rose to leave the room.

“Elvis, wait, I-” Vivien tried to apologize but faltered when she could find no sincere words to say she was sorry for asking what felt like a perfectly valid question at this point.

“I ain’t got time for this mess right now, Vivien.” His jaw clenched as he looked back at her, trying the best he could to control his temper. “We can talk about it when I get back home.”

As he walked out the door, Vivien felt the hot tears start to slide down her cheeks.

*************************************************

“Rox?” Vivien’s voice came out as a pathetic little whimper.

“Vivien? What’s wrong, honey? What happened?” Roxanne breathed anxiously into the pale yellow phone receiver.

“I just, I don’t think I can do this anymore. With him. It shouldn’t be this hard, right?”

“Oh, Viv, I’m so sorry. Relationships can be hard, though, and it’s not like yours has been smooth sailing from the beginning.”

“I know,” Vivien sniffled as the tears kept flowing down her cheeks. “But it was supposed to be easier once he left her. I thought I made it through the hard part. He was supposed to be mine now. But he never really will be all mine, will he?”

“Well, I think you fell in love with someone who sort of belongs to the world, y’know? But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you and need you and want you, Viv.” Roxanne kept her tone soothing, even as she tried to wrap her mind around how it must feel to constantly see other women throwing themselves at your boyfriend. She didn’t know if she could do it, either.

“Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t want me around. At first he wanted me with him every second, but then it’s like something changed. He did two short tours without me, and now he’s back in Vegas again. I wasn’t invited.” Vivien couldn’t stop the bitterness from creeping into her voice.

“That really stinks Viv, but he did just get separated not too long ago and he’s probably trying to figure out his feelings. Plus it’s not like Priscilla really went on tour with him, right?”

“Exactly! Because he didn’t like having her around,” Vivien retorted.

“I just mean-”

“Why are you defending him?” Vivien snapped. “Can’t you just be on my side? Or are you trying to get in his bed too?” Vivien gasped at the words that flew out of her own mouth.

“Woah, Vivien, that’s not it,” Roxanne tried to keep her tone steady, but an icy edge had crept in.

“I’m so sorry, Rox. I didn’t mean that, I know you would never do that. I just, he’s making me crazy.” Vivien’s voice trembled again.

“I can tell, Viv.” Roxanne softened her tone at the apology. “I was just trying to talk you down, but you know I’m always on your side. If you need a break from there, from him, you know you can always come stay with me. Even if it’s just to clear your head for a little bit.”

“Thanks, Rox. I might do that.” Vivien’s head felt a little clearer already just at the thought of a break from the once-again deserted Graceland.

*************************************************

“Elvis!”

Elvis turned his head at the familiar sound, wondering if he was just hearing things after an intense performance. He wiped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his paisley shirt as he looked around. There was no mistaking it a second time.

“Larry?” Elvis asked incredulously. “Larry! How’ve ya been?” He pulled his old friend into an embrace as if no time had passed.

“I’m good, man! I’ve missed our talks, though.”

“Me too,” Elvis said sheepishly, hanging his head slightly. “Y’know it wasn’t me, I-I-I mean I didn’t-”

“I know, man. I could see the evil forces at work,” Larry reassured.

Relieved, Elvis cleared his throat and jumped ahead to his usual mode of apology. “Hey, I got somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ ta give ya.” He led Larry through his suite and into the large master bedroom. After rummaging around in his jewelry case, he pulled out a large gold ring with a deep emerald stone. “Ah, I knew it was in here somewhere.” A big grin spread across his face as he pressed the gaudy ring into Larry’s palm. “The tranquility of the emerald made me think of ya.”

Larry nodded and accepted what he knew was a heartfelt apology. He didn’t really blame Elvis for icing him out five years ago; he knew it was the hold of the Colonel’s influence. Still, it was nice to know he’d been thought of.

“Speaking of tranquility, how have ya been, man? I hear you and Priscilla separated?”

Elvis ducked his head in a slight nod as his jaw tightened. “It was a long time comin,’” he muttered. “Although I’m sure ya know that better than most. Ya know she made me burn most of my spiritual books? I managed ta hide a few away, but it was a sad day, man, I’ll tell ya for sure.”

“Well, we can just rebuild your library,” Larry said calmly, although he was inwardly seething at Priscilla’s actions. In his mind, she’d always fought against Elvis’ growth. “It should feel like a weight off your shoulders for it to finally be over, right?” Larry studied Elvis’ expression as he asked the question. “It looks like you still feel conflicted, though.”

Elvis furrowed his brow in thought and twisted one of the heavy gold rings on his finger. “Nah, not conflicted ‘bout her really. I mean, I-I-I miss havin’ my family together, but we ain’t really been together in a long time. It’s jus’ that I , uh, I-I found out that she left me for some other guy, a-a-and it’s really messed up my head.”

“And what about you? Have you been seeing anyone special?” Larry tread carefully, knowing Elvis would not view his own affairs and Priscilla’s in the same light.

Elvis’ expression softened a bit as images of his Vivien sprang to mind - the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, how she hung on his every word, the feel of her soft lips around his…” Elvis drifted back to the present moment to find Larry still waiting for an answer.

“Vivien,” he whispered softly, as though her name alone might convey everything he was feeling.

“Vivien,” Larry repeated with a smile. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Uh, ‘bout two years,” Elvis admitted. “I-I-I knew in my heart that this thing with Priscilla, that it was jus’ a matter of time, y’know? And Vivien, she’s everything I’ve been lookin’ for, I really mean that, Larry. She’s beautiful, she’s warm and affectionate, she wants ta be a wife and mother. I fell in love right away when she had a copy of The Prophet with her at the movie theater.”

“That’s great, man! I’m happy for you.” Larry smiled and looked around the suite for signs of a woman staying there. “So where is she? I’d love to meet her.”

Elvis lowered his head and mumbled, “Uh, w-w-well, she’s at Graceland right now. I, uh, told her to jus’ wait for me there.” His jaw tightened again as he remembered their argument right before he left.

“Did she not want to come and be with you?” Larry asked in surprise, hoping this wasn’t just another fling that Elvis had built up in his mind.

“Naw, it’s not like that, she did wanna come, but I told her not to.” Elvis blushed a little bit as he continued. “I mean, I told ya man, this thing with ‘Cilla and this other guy, it’s got me all messed up. What if this happens again? I fall hard and then she decides I’m not, y’know, not enough for her? Or not what she wants? I can’t live up ta this image, ta these expectations all the time.”

Larry nodded in understanding, remembering a previous conversation they’d had where Elvis admitted his discomfort with being thought of as a sex symbol. Elvis might not admit it to the guys in so many words, but Larry knew he felt insecure at times. “Has she ever indicated she might be, um, disappointed in some way?” He didn’t want to push too hard after being back in Elvis’ life for all of five minutes, but he knew none of the other guys would say anything to actually help Elvis deal with his issues.

“No,” Elvis admitted. “She always jus’ tells me how amazing I am. I’ll tell ya, Larry, I’ve actually never felt so connected ta someone physically like this. When we’re, uh, bein’ intimate, it’s like a spiritual experience. She had never been with a man before. It was so beautiful when she gave herself ta me.”

“That doesn’t sound like someone who might feel disappointed and want another man,” Larry pointed out. He decided against adding on that four weeks alone would be more likely to make a woman seek another companion.

“Well, ya might be right about that, but I still didn’t know if it was right ta bring her. I worry about her bein’ able to deal with my life, seein’ the way these fans act around me, the way the guys can get on tour. I’ve been down this road before where a woman wants ta own me and gets real hurt when she doesn’t understand how I have ta live. We’ve already had a couple arguments cuz she don’t understand why I need all my medications.”

“I don’t know, Elvis,” Larry started out thoughtfully. “You’re saying this woman is different. Everything you’ve told me makes it seem like you two are really in love. Maybe you should give her more of a chance to show that she understands how crazy your life can get. And as for the medications, it sounds like she’s just worried about you. That’s not a bad thing to have someone care so much. It sounds like you’re letting your feelings about Priscilla sabotage a beautiful relationship with the right person.”

Elvis sat contemplating for a few minutes before responding. “Lawrence, I think you’re right. Vivien is completely different from ‘Cilla. I should be embracing how much we enjoy each other’s company. See, this is why I need ya back in my circle, man. Let’s talk about ya doin’ my hair again.”

*************************************************

Vivien heard a car pull up right as she was pulling her two suitcases down the steps to the foyer. She hoped the guard wouldn’t be in trouble for letting Roxanne in as she’d instructed.

“Vivien?”

Oh shoot. That was definitely not Roxanne’s voice.

“What’s all this? Where are ya goin’?” Elvis almost sounded more hurt than angry as he took in the suitcases and processed what was happening.

“You’re not supposed to be back for another week,” Vivien mumbled, as if this was somehow an answer to his question.

“I came back ta get ya. I missed ya so much, baby.” Elvis stepped toward her, but she quickly grabbed her bags when she heard another car pull up.

“Elvis, I just need a break. I can’t sit here for weeks at a time and wonder why you don’t want me around.”

She glanced at his face long enough to see his expression turn icy, although his eyes seemed to be brimming with tears. She quickly headed for the door, knowing he was about to explode with rage or tears. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to stay and find out which.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo @i-r-i-n-a-a @returntopresley

#elvis #Elvis smut #elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #Elvis x oc #waiting for love

52 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 7 months ago

Text

Liminality: Part 9

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,976

Rating: This one's actually very tame, but I'm gonna go with M for overall content + language.

Summary: You and Frankie have decided some things about the next full moon, but there are plenty more to consider. Conversations with some of the people that he's closest to prove to you that Frankie's friends do, in fact have his - and your - best interests in mind.

A surprise revelation puts a few more things into perspective ... and widens your new circle of friends a little more.

Author’s note:

The action picks up the next chapter - I promise. This one is a lot more focused on relationship building and setting groundwork. There are also a couple clues in here (as well as some nods to the movie) ... let's see if you can catch them, Thank you for reading! Please come say hello in my inbox or through DMs if you want!

This one goes out specifically to @anniet852 for making the request that I post it tonight. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reaching out.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

There was something warm and soft pressed against the space just in front of your ear, and after you blinked a few times, you realized what it was. It’s Frankie, and he’s kissing me.

Humming quietly, you rolled back and toward him, but he stopped you with one hand on your side, sighing out your name. “No time. I’m gonna be late.” What? “Didn’t wanna get up so I stayed with you as long as I could.” Oh. “Stay in bed.”

“But -” You voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“No, it’s early.” He kissed you again, that time a little closer to your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home. Spare key’s in the kitchen. Take it with you and give it back next time I see you.” His tone was low and soothing - a quiet rumble in your ear. Even though you wanted to get up, you felt yourself drifting again, sinking deeper into the nest of blankets that smelled like him as he pulled the top one up and over your shoulders. “I’ll call you tonight.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding, and Frankie squeezed your shoulder but didn’t say anything else. A few minutes later, you thought you heard the front door close, but you were already almost back asleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was filled with light, and the clock on the bedside table said 10:27. I just slept for almost ten hours. Pushing yourself upright, you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, yawning.

It was strange to be in Frankie’s house alone, but you felt comfortable, and there was a large part of you that was excited to have the opportunity to look around before you left. You weren’t going to snoop, but you did want to get a better idea of Frankie as a man without him only a few feet or a room away.

He’d told you to make yourself at home, and so you did, setting the coffee pot to brew while you looked around the kitchen and into the living room.

There were pictures hanging on the fridge - Frankie and Carmen in his back yard, one of him and a woman you assumed was Becca with a swaddled baby held between them, a group shot of Frankie and the guys. He looked happy in all of them, but you noticed a hollowness in his expression in the one with the baby, dark circles under his eyes and his face much thinner than it currently was.

Trailing a finger over it, you chewed on your lower lip, feeling your stomach twist. He’d told you about using, but seeing proof of how much he’d struggled just after his daughter was born was a shock. But he’s doing better now, and he’s still in Carmen’s life, and … things are good.

His past would be something that the two of you needed to discuss in more depth, just so you were on the same page - especially if you stayed in Florida. There was no way around it - the drugs and mission to South America coupled with his adjustment to post-military life and becoming a werewolf were a lot for anyone to deal with.

But since you knew he’d had talked to so few people, for Frankie, it was likely much more difficult to open up than normal. And I want to help him, if he’ll let me.

After making your coffee, you wandered through the rest of the house, glancing at the books on his shelves. You lingered on a few more photos of him and his family throughout the years and the decor that he’d chosen to fill the space.

It all made you smile, because the inside of his house was a reflection of Frankie as you knew him. Aside from the hidden millions and the wolf status, he hadn’t lied when he’d said that what you saw was what you got, and that impressed you. Because that isn’t always the case with people.

Curling up on the couch with your mug, you looked around the bright, sunny room and grinned, taking a deep breath. It was a house that you could get used to being in, and the fact that Frankie trusted you to be there alone spoke volumes.

But the longer you sat, the more your thoughts drifted. And after a little while, they drifted back to the previous night … and what you’d almost said. Is it possible? Could I really… You sipped your coffee and eyed the darkened screen of the TV, thinking. He’d heard you, obviously, and had likely pieced things together, even though you’d managed to keep from finishing your sentence. “But it was right there.” Taking another drink, you closed your eyes. “And I was definitely thinking it.”

Speaking out loud to the empty house comforted you, as did admitting that what you’d almost said was the truth.

Nothing about meeting and being with Frankie made any sense. The timeline was expedited. The circumstances were unconventional, to say the least. He was not the type of person you’d ever gravitated toward before, even without the wolf component. But none of that mattered, because from the moment you’d met him, you were drawn to Frankie on every level, and the pull had only intensified as the days passed.

You wondered exactly how he felt, and what he’d tell you if you asked.

You were curious to know if he returned your affection to a similar level, or if you were moving too quickly and leaving him behind. It was more than sex for both of you, and he’d been the one to suggest the idea of giving a relationship a shot. But that doesn’t mean he loves me. That doesn’t mean it’s serious for him yet… does it?

Pushing yourself upright, you went back into the kitchen and cleaned up after yourself, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and then wiping the countertop down. Pausing in front of one of the windows, you stared out and into the back yard, thinking. Your questions needed answers, even if only to give you a better idea where you and Frankie stood … and of what to expect moving forward.

But more than that, the part of you that craved connection wanted reassurance that even though you’d fallen hard and fast, you weren’t alone in your feelings. You didn’t think you were, especially with the way he’d looked at you and spoken to you, sticking up for you in front of his friends and with Ashley. “I need to fucking go.” Smacking your hand on the counter, you groaned. “I need to be doing something and not just thinking about this.”

Turning around, your eyes landed on the wall just behind the sink, and you laughed at the sight of it. It was a chalkboard - some of the surface covered in Frankie’s handwriting, other parts featuring notes and drawings from the guys that you snorted as you read through. You had no idea how you’d missed it previously, but with another grin, you reached for a piece of colored chalk and added a message to one of the open spaces.

LOADED THE DISHWASHER. LEFT @ NOON. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO.

Pausing, you chewed on the inside of your cheek and then added the final touch - a heart and your name before spinning away and hurrying back into the bedroom to collect your stuff.

He’d see it right away, and you knew it.

And even though it was easily erased, the few words added to the wall were just another example of your insertion into his life … and seeing them next to the ones from his friends made you question things further. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not that big a deal… fuck.

You got ready to leave in only a few minutes, and when you stepped back into the kitchen to grab the keys, you lingered there, turning in a slow circle.

Frankie leaving you alone in his home was a big step - no matter how you looked at it. But you still couldn’t get ahead of yourself or expect too much from him. And I won’t. Especially before we find this other wolf.

The door closed and locked behind you, you headed for your car … but you spent the entire drive home in deep, silent thought.

—

Your phone rang almost three hours later, and the number on the screen was one that you didn’t recognize. You contemplated not answering but decided that you needed to, cautiously lifting the device to your ear as you said hello. I don’t know anyone here, and that’s a Florida area code, and …

“Hey, it’s Pope.” Shoulders slumping in relief, you greeted him. “What are your plans this afternoon?”

“I don’t have any.” Looking around your apartment, you wrinkled your nose. “I’m working right now, but -”

“Do you want to come over?” His invitation caught you off guard, and before you could reply, he continued. “‘Fish told me where you’re staying, and you’re not too far from Yova and me. You should meet her, and we need to talk.”

“We do?” He laughed, and you realized how unsure you must have sounded, but Pope replied right away, still laughing.

“We do. But I swear to god, it’s not the way it sounds.” You agreed, Pope letting you know that he’d be home whenever you wanted to head over. While you got ready, your mind ran wild with thoughts about what Pope wanted to talk to you about - and excitement about meeting Yovanna, who you’d heard a lot about in the weeks since you’d met Frankie and his friends.

The drive was short, and it turned out that Pope’s house was slightly larger than Frankie’s. But as you pulled into the driveway, you remembered that Tom had told you it wasn’t his, and belonged to his parents. It’s nice, though.

You parked and headed for the front door, raising your hand to knock.

Before your knuckles made contact, the door opened and you were met with the smiling face of one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. “You must be Yovanna.” She nodded, her eyes widening. “I’m here to see Pope. I’m -”

“You’re Francisco’s.” Her smile grew. “I have heard a lot about you.” She opened the door all the way, inviting you in. “Santiago is outside. I’ll show you where.” She led you through the house, and as you moved, you thought about her words - and how she’d flat out called you Frankie’s, like it was common knowledge. Is it? “Before you go outside, I…” She stopped in the kitchen and turned to face you, blinking rapidly. “What he is, it is … not his fault. Francisco is a good man.”

“Wait, you…” She knows? Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “Yovanna, I -”

“They don’t know that I know, but I do.” She reached for your hand. “I’ve seen it before. He’s seguro. Safe, not dangerous. The other one…” She shivered. “Be careful.” Yovanna pointed toward the door with one hand. “Listen to him. To both of them. I -” Your heart was pounding, but instead of interrupting her, you reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder, waiting until she trailed off to speak.

“I know Frankie’s not dangerous.” She looked relieved, giving you a single nod. “I know it’s not his fault.” Her smile grew again, both of her eyes closing. “I’m here to help him get answers.” That shocked her, but before you could say anything else, she was hugging you, her hold tight.

“He needs them. Deserves them.” Gesturing when she released you, she chuckled. “I’m going to start making dinner. I’ll let you two talk.” Yovanna turned away from you and then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “If you know about … Francisco, do you know about …”

“The money?” You nodded. “He told me everything.” Yovanna covered her face with both hands, exhaling loudly. And when she lowered them she looked relieved, her eyes shining with tears. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He needs someone like you.” She wet her lips. “He needed someone like you a long time ago.” Without another word, she left the room, leaving you stunned and standing just inside the door that led to the back yard.

You were overwhelmed, but didn’t want to keep Pope waiting, and so you headed outside and took a seat next to him on an empty deck chair. “You made it.” He looked over, smiling at you. “Good.”

“I did.” Getting comfortable, you leaned back and looked out over the yard. “This is your parents’ place, right?”

“Yep. They’re on vacation right now. I paid for ‘em to go back home for a couple months, and my ma says she doesn’t ever want to come back here.” You laughed, watching as Pope rubbed at the back of his neck. “Both my parents were born here, in Florida, but I’ve got a ton of relatives that don’t live in the US, and since I can afford to send my parents to see them… why not?” He shrugged. “They’re happy, and Yova and I get to be here together.”

“Frankie told me about Australia.” He nodded. “And Tom told me you guys are going back and forth between here and there.” Pope nodded, his eyes on you. “And I get it, Pope. She’s beautiful. And she seems …” Trailing off, you thought for a few seconds. “She seems like she can handle your shit.”

He snorted, reaching up with one hand to rub at his beard - but he didn’t disagree. “She was the best thing that came outta being down there.The money’s great, but Yova? Fuck. I waited my whole goddamn life for her, and almost lost her for good because I didn’t do anything about it when I should have.”

“Well you didn’t lose her.” Turning your head to look at him, you shrugged. “She’s here. You’re here. You’re together now, and that’s what matters.” He took a long breath and held it, and when Pope exhaled, he swore. What? What did I say?

“D’you know what I see when he looks at you?” He met your gaze, his expression unwavering. “Me, looking at her.” It hit you hard - because you knew that Pope wasn’t the type of man to lie about something so important. But he … he just … “I’ve known Frankie for a long fuckin’ time. And he hasn’t ever been like this with someone. Not even Becca, and there was a couple years when I thought they’d end up together forever.”

“Pope, it’s only been weeks. We’re still -”

“He told you everything.” Santiago shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. “He didn’t need to, but he did. He just about attacked Tom last night for giving you shit, and he’s started losing control around you to the fucking point that he can’t keep the wolf entirely at bay. Doesn’t matter if it’s been weeks or months, that shit is the truth, and -”

“I pulled a gun on him.” You looked down at your hands, frowning. “The morning he told me? I don’t know how I got past him and to my room fast enough to grab it, but -”

“And that’s another thing.” He straightened up and then leaned toward you. “The Francisco Morales I know? Never would have let you get to that gun. He never would have given you a chance to aim it. ‘Fish did. He stood there and let you point it at him.” Pope said your name, his smile small but still present. “Keeping you safe is his focus, even if it meant that he might have gotten hurt.”

That information stunned you. It was something that you should have considered, but you hadn’t. He was in the military for a decade. Of course I shouldn’t have been able to get by him. Of course he could have overpowered me. He’s… “You know why I’m here, Pope.” He nodded, waiting. “For a second, I thought -”

“Did you? Did you really?” He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a loose fist. “Because I might not know you that well, but if you’ve really been hunting wolves for as long as you say you have, if you thought Frankie was the one you were looking for, you wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger. Instead, you let him explain.”

“No, I gave him a chance to explain because I lo-” Your mouth snapped shut for the second time in less than twenty four hours, but unlike Frankie simply staying quiet and letting you recover, Pope’s eyes widened and he scoffed, slapping his palm against the arm of the chair. Shit. Shit.

“I knew it.” His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the same way Frankie’s did. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell him how fucking right I was.”

“You can’t.” Your heart thumped against the back of your ribs, one hand shooting out so that you could grasp Pope’s wrist. “Santiago, it’s not … I can’t. Not until I find the Chaos wolf and deal with it.” You took a deep breath, fingers tightening. “I have to focus. I can’t even think about how much it … how much he means to me.”

Saying it out loud felt good, because even though Frankie knew that you cared, admitting how much you cared to someone that wasn’t directly involved was different. And it’s important, because now I can’t just pretend it isn’t the case. “Hey.” He said your name quietly, pulling his arm free from your grip. But instead of withdrawing it entirely, he took your hand in his and squeezed, urging you to meet his eyes.”I won’t say a goddamn word. Not yet. Not until it comes from you, or it comes from him, because it’s not my place.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Thank you.” It was a relief, but Pope’s words made you wonder just how obvious you were being with your feelings. If he noticed, then Frankie might have, too. And what about the other guys? “No. I didn’t actually think that it was Frankie that was attacking people. And the last thing I was expecting was him to tell me what he is.”

“But when he did …” Pope squeezed your hand one last time and then let go, pulling his arm up and then crossing both of them over his chest. “What did you do?” It wasn’t the question that you’d expected from him - but based on what you knew about Frankie and his friends, it was probably time that you stopped trying to anticipate how they were going to react.

“I gave him a chance to explain. And I … told him the truth about myself.” Looking down, you linked your own fingers together, one thumb rubbing over the other’s knuckle. “And then I asked him to stay because I wanted to make sure he got sleep.”

“You might be,” Pope started speaking, turning his chair toward where you sat before he went on. “You might be the best possible person to know his secret. Because not only do you believe him, you know what he’s going through. You understand wolves and their behavior, and thanks to your cousin, you know that it’s possible to be with one without problems.”

“That’s why I’m worried.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked back tears. “Pope, what if all of this is because everything is falling into place just right? What if none of this would be happening if he wasn’t a wolf and I wasn’t hunting them? What if he’s just lonely, and I’m a convenient -”

“‘Fish might not have had anything consistent in his life since he was bitten, but I wouldn’t say he’s been lonely.” He arched a brow. “He’s had no problem keeping all this shit separate from what he does in the bedroom before.” That gave you pause, and even though it stung to think about Frankie with other women, Pope’s words rang true. “But that’s one of the reasons I asked you to come over.”

You’d wondered when that topic would come up. Pope’s invitation had been friendly, but there was business to discuss, and it seemed you’d finally worked around to that topic. “What reason?”

“He wants you to see him on the night of a full moon.” You nodded, unsurprised that Pope knew. “And you know that one of us is always with him on those nights, just to keep an eye on things … and on him,”

“Yes. He told me. And he showed me the tracker.” Pope dragged his fingers through this hair, narrowing his eyes, though he didn’t look away from you. “And yeah. I do want to go with him next time. What’s the problem with that?”

“We made a promise to him. All of us. And as much as we care about him, we’d honor it.” Your blood ran cold at he implication of his words. They’d promised that if Frankie ever hurt anyone - or presented the threat of real danger - they’d take care of it. And I don’t know that I could. I don’t know that I’d be able to. “Could you shoot him? Could you look him in the eye - man or wolf - and pull that trigger if you needed to? If he asked you to?”

“I …” Your heartbeat quickened again, mouth hanging slightly open. “Pope, I don’t…” Even as you floundered, you knew the answer. “No. No, I don’t think I could. Not … now. Maybe if I saw him hurting someone, but not after the fact.” He didn’t look surprised, but Pope’s expression gave nothing else away, either. “Could you?”

“I’d have to.” He shook his head, licking his lips. “I wouldn’t want to, but ‘Fish couldn’t live with himself knowing that he hurt someone. And we’d never let him do something to himself that might get back to Carmen later. We promised.” That was understandable; protecting his daughter would always be the most important thing for them. And I get it. I get it, but what is the point of this? “The reason I’m asking you any of this is because if you want to go with him, and he wants you to go with him alone, you’re going to have to be able to make this promise, too.”

“And what if I can’t?” Your stomach was churning, but you didn’t want Pope to know. “Does that mean I can never -”

“It means that you might have to have one of us there with you, and he’s not going to like that.” Pope shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, because I figured you’d be a little more reasonable. ‘Fish is … stubborn. And it’s not like we’d be right there next to you, but this while thing has only worked because we have a system, and that can’t change.”

He was right, and you knew it.

Having a second person with you and Frankie on the night of a full moon, at least for the first few times, was the right decision. It meant someone being there if things went sideways. It meant that you’d have backup. It meant that another one of them would see that you could be trusted with their friend’s secret, and that you could handle yourself around Frankie’s wolf. But I don’t like it, because the first time he shows someone, it should be private.

“Who? You went with him last month. Would it be you next month, too?”

“It’s Will’s turn.” Pope’s reply was immediate, his voice even. “And that might be the best thing for everyonr, because he’s not emotional. Me an’ Benny … we are. Tom too. But Ironhead isn’t … reckless. He’d be a good one for you to be out there with.”

Neither of you said anything else, and for a few long moments, you and Pope stared out over the well-kept yard. He wasn’t telling you that you couldn’t go, or that he thought it was a bad idea for you to see Frankie’s change. He wasn’t advising against your presence, or trying to downplay your barely-established place in Frankie’s life. He’s just trying to keep people safe.

“I have to do what’s best for Frankie.” You nodded, blowing out a breath and closing your eyes. “And for everyone else. The last thing I want to do is put anyone at risk, but I’d be lying if I told you that it wasn’t disappointing that we wouldn’t have privacy.”

“You would.” He adjusted his position, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s a blind up in the trees about fifty yards from the RV. You can see everything from up there, but you can’t hear unless someone’s yelling. We used it the first couple times we were there with him, just to have a backup - someone on the ground, someone in the trees.”

“So we’d have guns on us.” Pope flinched - barely, but you caught it nonetheless. Well, fuck. “I can’t speak for him, but if that’s what you think needs to happen, then yeah.” Reaching out, you took Pope’s hand in yours. “I trust you. I trust your friends, and if that’s what it takes… it’s what we’ll do.”

He looked relieved, almost like he’d expected you to fight him on someone else being there. But why would I? I’ve already admitted that I don’t think I could hurt him. “We’ll talk to ‘Fish. This shouldn’t be on you.” You agreed, giving him a quick smile before you let go of his hand and leaned back in your chair, averting your eyes. “How’s your cousin?”

You hadn’t expected Pope to ask, but you were grateful that he had. “He’s better. The wound got infected, so they’ve been trying to knock that back, but according to his fiancee, he’s going to be fine otherwise. No bite. Nothing lasting physically, except some scars. If she hadn’t been there, or been what she is, it would be a different story.”

“You’re not worried about something like that happening to you?” Glancing over, he frowned at you. “Being on your own? What would you have done if you’d found a wolf?

“I would have dealt with it.” You rubbed the side of your neck, thinking. “I’m always armed while hunting. I know where to aim on a wolf to incapacitate it until morning. That I can do. But shooting someone I know? That I care about?” That’s different.

“But you’re not afraid?” He bit down on his lower lip, sighing. “Seeing Frankie for the first time fucking terrified me. I don’t think you understand how big he is. If I’d been alone, I would have lost my shit.”

“I’m always afraid, Pope. But I can’t let that stop me. It’s what’s expected because of -”

“Your family. I know.” You caught the roll of his eyes, along with his exasperated chuckle. “He told me all about it. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but it’s kinda bullshit that they’ve put this all on you.”

“I don’t disagree, but I don’t want to be the one to stop. Why do I get to make that decision?”

“Because you found a reason to stop?” Pope stood, turning so that he could look at where you sat. “Because you decided you wanted to have a life that you chose instead of just doing what was expected of you?” And there’s a fourth. Covering your face with both hands, you rubbed at your eyes.

Ashley and Alec telling you to choose yourself was one thing; they were actively involved in your life, and knew the burden you’d been entrusted with - and what living with it meant. Frankie, after spending years in the military and then getting saddled with an uncontrollable and unfair outcome advising you to put yourself first also made sense, especially since he was doing it because he cared about you.

But Pope, someone that didn’t know you well and only knew the basics of your situation doing the same - simply because he wanted you and his friend to have a legitimate shot at whatever happiness looked like for the two of you? That was a shock. Because he understands responsibility. He understands honor.

“Pope, I …” Raising your head, you eyed him where he stood, one hand on his hip. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but -”

“No one can choose this for you, and I get that.” He wet his lips, lowering himself so that he was squatting down in front of you, at eye level. “But maybe you shouldn’t be afraid to choose it for yourself, y’know?”

Before either of you could say anything else, the back door opened and Yovanna called out. Pope’s eyes moved from your face to look over your shoulder. Nice save, Yova. “Are you staying to eat? It’s going to be ready soon.”

“Stay.” Pope murmured the word, nodding once. “No more of this. Just let her grill you about ‘Fish.” That got a smile out of you and you agreed, turning your head toward where the woman stood. That sounds like a good time.

“Yes. I’d like that a lot. Can I help?” She waved you off and went back inside, and then Pope stood too, the tension between you lessening almost entirely. “You’re not the first person to suggest that to me this week. And you probably won’t be the last, either.” He grinned, the expression taking years off of his face. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I know. I don’t ever let him forget it, either.” Pope winked and then stood back up, holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is. She won’t let us help in the kitchen but we can get shit set up out here on the table.”

The two of you worked quickly, only needing a few minutes to get everything into place. Pope excused himself to go inside and check on the other woman, which you knew was only an excuse to disappear and kiss her senseless next to the sink, but you didn’t mind. You needed the break to collect your thoughts, and wanted a chance to check your phone.

There was a missed call from Frankie from only a few minutes earlier, along with a picture message from Alec - of him and Ashley, both of them sitting outside in the hospital’s courtyard. Sending back a quick message to him first - looking good, glad you’re getting some fresh air! - you dialed Frankie’s number, raising the device to your ear.

He answered on the second ring, and at the sound of his voice, you realized he was in the truck, playing your call through the speakers. “Sorry I missed you, what’s -”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be able to talk until later.” He sighed, only pausing for a second before he continued. “Carmen’s sick, and she’s asking for me, so I’m on my way to Lakeland. I’m gonna spend the night and go straight to work tomorrow.”

“Is she ok?” You held the phone tighter, trying to figure out just how much panic was in his voice. “What happened?”

“She’s going to be fine. Just has a fever. Probably picked it up at daycare. Becca said I didn’t need to come, that I could just call, but …”

“Of course you’d go.” Turning in a slow circle, you peeked in through the kitchen window, watching as Pope and Yovanna laughed together, the man standing behind her with his arms around her waist as she finished the meal. They’re so happy. “I hope seeing you makes things better for her.”

“What time did you leave?” His tone softened, and you could picture Frankie’s smile, the corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the road ahead. “You sleep in?”

“Noon. And I did. All that room? I stretched out.” He laughed then, the sound coming through the speaker clearly.

“It was hard to leave this morning. Wanted to stay in bed with you.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to decide how to answer, and then opted for the truth - something that a week prior, you never would have admitted out loud.

“I missed you after you left. But…” Looking away from Pope and Yovanna, you inhaled. “I liked waking up in your bed, Frankie.”

“You could do it more.” He cleared his throat. “Whenever you wanted to, and -”

“Dinner’s ready!” Pope’s voice was loud, and interrupted Frankie. “Come and get your plate.”

“Where are you?” He was confused, and you held back your laugh. “Is that Pope?”

“It is. He invited me over to meet Yovanna and so that we could talk, and now I’m having dinner with them.” You wondered what was going through Frankie’s mind, or if he was angry that you were spending time with his friends without him - if he felt like you were going behind his back. ‘I didn’t think to -”

“What are you having? I’m fucking jealous. I haven’t had her cooking in a couple months.” Pope watched you expectantly, gesturing at the doorway. You made your way toward it, grinning.

“No idea. But it smells amazing.”

“She’ll bring you back a plate, ‘Fish.” Pope spoke loudly, leaning in when you got close. “We know how to share.” Frankie laughed at his words and so did you. Pope gave you a nod before leaning back inside and closing the door, giving you a few seconds to say goodbye.

“I’m getting a hotel tonight. Can I call you later?”

“Of course. I’ll be home after dinner.” Resting your hand on the door frame, you nodded. “I hope Carmen’s ok, and that a hug from her dad’s all she needs to feel better.”

“I do too.” He sighed, your name quiet through the phone. “Go eat. And don’t believe a word Pope says about me. They’re all lies and he’s just trying to impress his girl.”

You were both laughing when you hung up. But when you entered the kitchen and took the plate Yovanna held out to you, all you could focus on was the fact that for the second time in as many days, you didn’t feel like an outsider.

Not only had you been accepted by Frankie, but his friends had taken an interest in you, too … even when he wasn’t around.

—

Over the course of the next few weeks, you continued your research during the day while Frankie worked.

The weather held, even as September stretched on. And though it wasn’t your favorite place that you’d ever been, you started to see the appeal of Florida.

Once the beaches cleared out, they became a good place to go and read through your notes. The threat of hurricanes forming in the Gulf didn’t seem to deter many residents from planning and participating in outdoor activities, but there was a definite drop in crowd density on the sand as the days passed and people returned to work and school.

Frankie’s flight load dropped, too, though he warned you that the closer it got to the winter holidays, the busier he’d get again. You didn’t know if you’d still be in Florida for those holidays, but a large part of you hoped that you would - and you knew that Frankie felt the same.

The two of you spent most nights together, going over your notes and coming up with theories. Frankie was helpful, the man’s eyes on your previous work helping you to pinpoint a few things that you hadn’t missed, but also hadn’t assumed might be important.

It gave you hope that between you, you’d be able to pinpoint where the Chaos wolf would strike - and after seeing where he went the night you were with Frankie, you figured you’d have an even better idea. And see if our theory is correct.

Frankie believed that once the wolf ran out of larger park locations, it would begin the cycle all over again. You thought that he was probably right, but if that was the case, then the next location had a 50% chance of being the park that the RV was in… and that worried you. Because it’s where we’ll be … and Frankie will want to fight.

Alec and Ashley left Florida just under two weeks out from the attack, and though you’d gotten to say goodbye, it was bittersweet. He’d left all of his notes with you, along with a few weapons and tools, which was confirmation that he was done - and you were in fact alone in the hunt.

But more than that, Alec’s parting words had struck a nerve, the man looking you in the eye and making you promise that you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life on an impossible revenge mission, especially when you had something good right in front of you. You agreed, the words tasting like poison as you spoke them, and even though a large part of you meant it, there was still another part that couldn’t fathom abandoning your mission, even for someone - and something - like Frankie.

Frankie and Ashley spoke for a few minutes, too, and you heard her reiterate her invitation to Texas, Frankie’s enthusiasm in accepting making you grin. There was no repeat of the first meeting; they greeted each other and then spoke like longtime friends. You were thankful for it, the woman hugging him tightly and then pulling you off to the side to give him a minute with Alec.

That conversation was slightly less friendly - if their facial expressions were anything to go by. But like with his confrontation with Tom, you didn’t pry Frankie for the contents of it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. He didn’t, though, instead telling you not to worry about anything, and to focus on what the two of you needed to: the coming full moon.

Days continued to pass, and as they did, you and Frankie grew closer.

There were no more almost slips, despite your growing emotional connection. You slowly stopped worrying about it being too much, too fast, and just let things happen - because he did the same, and it felt good.

You saw his friends occasionally, stopping into the bar or going to dinner with Pope or Will and their significant others. You texted back and forth with Benny, and even met Tom’s daughter and wife one night, Frankie introducing you in the lobby of a movie theater. Tessa and Molly were nice, and you were stunned at the difference in Tom when he was with them.

In the span of two months, you’d inserted yourself into Frankie’s life almost seamlessly. It was comforting, but at the same time, it scared you.

It scared you because of how well you fit. It worried you because you had the feeling that it couldn’t - and wouldn’t - last. You’d had a few disagreements, but nothing serious, and part of you wondered if it was because he was afraid of angering you and forcing your hand in exposing him. You wouldn’t do that - and Frankie knew it, but it still ate away at you that there was no certain way for you to know exactly why he was the way he was with you.

One of the disagreements you did have was about Will coming with the two of you during the next full moon. Thankfully, you didn’t have much to do when it came to justifying that decision. Will did it for you while the three of you had a beer together on Frankie’s covered porch, the sounds of early autumn echoing around you in the darkness.

“So about next week, ‘Fish.” Will took a pull from the bottle, looking over at where the two of you were sitting together on the couch. You had your feet on Frankie’s lap, the man’s thumb rubbing lazily over the inside of your ankle. Here we go. “I’m the one going with you, and -”

“Won’t need you this month, Ironhead.” His fingers tightened and then loosened, Frankie’s voice even. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.” Looking over at Will, you took a deep breath. “I want her t-”

“Frankie.” You sat all the way up, swinging your feet down so that you could move closer to him. “Give him a chance to finish.”

“So you’ve already talked about this?” He dragged his fingers through his hair, letting out a harsh laugh. “Made plans behind my back?”

“No.” Will leaned in, head shaking back and forth. “Not behind your back. And of course you’d have the final decision, but it’s something … that needs to be discussed.”

You reached over and settled your hand on Frankie’s leg, though you stayed quiet. “What?” He snapped the single word out, looking at his friend with narrowed eyes. “What needs to be discussed?”

“You made us make you a promise. And the only way we can keep that promise is if one of us is there, ‘Fish.” Will clasped his hands together, raising and lowering his shoulders in a shrug. “Any one of us is going to be able to do what we need to do if we need to do it, but she … we don’t know if she will.”

“”It’s been almost three years. I’ve never ever given anyone the idea that I might -”

“Frankie, I wasn’t even able to follow through when I was on high alert in my apartment, and you were human. What happens if something happens, and you’re a wolf?” Slipping your fingers between his, you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what would be worse, not being able to pull that trigger when I need to, or forcing one of your friends to do it after you did something you regret.”

“So both of you think I’m not going to be able to control myself.” He shifted next to you, but didn’t try to pull his hand free. That’s something. “Both of you are afraid that I’m going to all of a sudden lose my shit, and -”

“No.” Will leaned in, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. “But another thing to worry about is that this other wolf might show up. And we’re all used to how you act on all fours, ‘Fish, but she isn’t. If she hesitates and it’s not you?” Will’s gaze flicked over to you and lingered. “That’s not something you’d come back from.”

You hadn’t even thought of that - if you were in the middle of the forest and the other wolf made an appearance, you thought you’d be able to do what was necessary. But if it’s dark and all I see is a wolf, of course I’m going to hesitate until I know it’s not him. “Shit.” You tightened your grip on Frankie’s hand and then let go, covering your face with both of them. “Frankie, he’s right about that. Pope brought up one of them coming with us because it made sense, but I didn’t even think about the other wolf being there and my hesitation waiting to see if it’s you.”

He didn’t speak right away, but when you peeked over at Frankie, you saw that some of the anger had bled from his body. Instead he looked worried, lips pressed together and a deep furrow between his brows. “So what’s… what’s the long term plan, Ironhead? It’s always going to be one of you and her there? It can’t ever just be me and my -”

That time, it was Frankie that stopped himself, mouth snapping shut and his shoulders going rigid. Your what?

“No. Not always. She’d just need to get used to you and the routine before it could be her only.” Will licked his lips, giving you a quick smile. “I think that’s fair. We started out two of us at a time, right?”

“Yeah.” Frankie lowered his head. “So what, you’d just be in the RV? I kinda wanted it to just be us when I show her -”

“The blind.” Will leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll be able to see everything and can act if I need to, but you’ll be by yourselves on the ground.”

“It’s up to you, Frankie.” You shifted closer, reaching for his hand again. “But I don’t think it’s a bad idea, especially if I’d be going out there again after this time. Will can show me the ropes, and give me an idea of what to look for and what to expect from you when you’re a wolf.”

“We’re trying to keep everyone safe, ‘Fish. Just like always.” You waited - eyeing Frankie as he collected his thoughts. A quick glance at Will resulted in an almost imperceptible nod from the blonde, his head tipped to one side as he watched you. Lighten the mood. Say something to him.

“I have been thinking about sponsoring one of those sharks with the trackers.” You nudged Frankie with one elbow, letting yourself smile. “But maybe Will can show me how to use your GPS, and then I won’t need to. I’ll have my own -”

“Fuck off.” Frankie yanked his hand free and then wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You laughed but wound your arms around him, closing your eyes in relief. It’s going to be alright. “You’re right though, Ironhead. Last thing I want to do is leave her alone in the middle of the woods at night on a full moon. I know what’s out there.” And so do I. “Would you stay up in the trees all night?”

“Nah. I’d wait til you were gone and then come down. No reason to stay up there all night, unless you think I need to.” Will was speaking out loud, but you could tell from his facial expressions that he and Frankie were also having a silent conversation. In a split second, you realized that it was likely about the other wolf. But I’m not supposed to know that they’re hunting it too. I’m not supposed to know anything about that side of it, and …

It would have made everything much simpler if you’d just admitted who you were and what you were doing in Florida. You would have been able to plan with Frankie and his friends, instead of there being two separate scenarios at all times.

The inability to do so was frustrating, and there was a a part of you that wanted to speak up - to clue Will in, even though it made things more dangerous. Maybe we can talk about it next week.

“Alright.” Frankie sighed, loosening his hold on you. “I guess I don’t really have a choice in this, but I get it.” You opened your mouth to speak - to tell him that he did have a choice - but he beat you to it, leaning in and kissing you before you could. “If you’re gonna be around you need to know.” Mumbling the words, he nodded before pulling away. “And there’s nobody better to be there with you than Will Miller.” .

A quick glance at Will told you that he was relieved there’d only been a little pushback. It could have gone much worse. You were thankful it hadn’t, because the last thing you wanted was Frankie to be angry with you - or annoyed with any of his friends. Because he needs them. Settling back, you leaned your head against his shoulder, only halfway paying attention as the two of them started talking again.

And I need him.

—

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #liminality #liminality masterlist #writing #triple frontier #frankie morales masterlist #francisco morales x female reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #triple frontier au

34 notes · View notes