#sorry sorry this will be the last scruff post

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

eddie grew out the stubble so he can mark up buck's thighs and let natalia know who he really belongs to

[mickyschumacher]

𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you were in love with f1's beloved honey badger and you had been for almost year. but why in the world had you instead fallen for his teammate? or in which infidelity has laid it's sticky little hands on you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight angst, infidelity naturally, falling out of love, steamy makeout sesh, suggestive content, pining, sad boy hours for daniel, lando being kind of a sneaky bastard, age-gap between reader and boys (8 years for dan and 2 years for lan), reader born in australia, set in 2020/2021, false or incorrect marine biology lingo and protocols lol, mention of crossiant horner, poor explanation of f1, mentions of insecurity, proof-read...ish

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: daniel ricciardo x marine biologist!female reader, lando norris x marine biologist!female reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: i felt bad for not posting so here's me digging into my reserves! written when i did more song-based fics!! i wish life wasn't so busy 🤧 i have started a few thingsssssss but it's definitely going to be a while before i post them sorry 😣

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

You, honestly, were a normal girl. Mundane as mundane gets. Never once had you imagined of cameras, headlines and the need for a PR specialist in your life.

But it's what you had gotten. That's what Daniel Ricciardo came with.

You had met the Australian on pure accident. It was late 2020 and the season had just come an end. Hamilton was a six-times World Champion and Daniel had his last season with Renault. He hadn't got the result he wanted but he was optimistic about his future with McLaren. So eventually, he headed home to Australia for the Christmas holidays.

Now you would like to consider yourself a well-versed Australian. Especially considering you were born there. Robert Irwin was the most beloved Australian for years to come and Margot Robbie and Chris Hemsworth were your Aussie reps in America.

Somehow, however, you had never really got F1 or Formula One. That's not to say you hadn't heard of it. Honestly, for the past few years it was difficult to pass Albert Park in the summer of March without it flashing in front of your eyes. But if someone were to ask you anything about it, you would blink blankly and apologise.

Which is exactly what you did in early December. You were out having lunch with your closest friends at a local cafe, catching up on the year in the fresh yet skin-damaging Aussie sun.

You were in midst conversation when a brunette girl politely interrupted you. "Hi, sorry. This is going to sound really weird. I'm doing this on a bet. But do all three of you know that man over there? In the hat?”

You looked over to her table full of people. It seemed like she was with her family and friends. You and your friends zoned on the man in the hat, a guy who was trying to not make it obvious that he was aware of what was going on.

You scrutinised him carefully and unsurprisingly, you didn’t know him. Surprisingly, you did find that he was attractive. The curly hair, the scruff… you wondered whether he was actually Australian because no men in Australia looked like that.

Your two friends nodded while confirming with one another. “It’s Daniel, right? The driver?” One of them asked.

Your other friend hummed in agreement.

The brunette looked over at you. You blinked at her as your face slowly morphed into an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

The brunette, which you expected to be somewhat sad about it, ended up smiling while your friends’ faces dropped.

“Thank you! Oh my god. You have no idea what you’ve just done!” The brunette laughed loudly, capturing the attention of her table. She pointed at the man in the hat, clutching her stomach. “She doesn’t know who you are, Danny. Take that!”

Similarly to your friends, the male’s face dropped. He looked at you and tilted his head.

When Daniel actually saw you for the first time, he was in shock. Not the type of shock of an Aussie not knowing who he was. But rather the shock of being in the presence as someone as beautiful as you.

Your eyes were tantalising and your apologetic expression was cute.

He waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. I’m just an F1 driver.”

You nodded in slow understanding. Maybe you had in fact seen his posters in Albert Park. Honestly, you couldn’t be sure. Life as a marine biologist was busy and all over the place. Recognising celebrities or athletes was kind of the last thing on your mind.

━━━━━━━━━━━

That day you went home with the expectation of a normal tomorrow. One where you were out at the ocean and exploring the waters you had loved so much.

You wish you could say it came as a shock to see that same curly haired man on the wharf, but given the current temperatures that heavily contrasted your winter, it was reasonable as any other Aussie here.

What you didn’t expect was you passing him to get to your boat and then hearing a voice enter the air. “Hey! Excuse me. Sorry. You’re the girl from yesterday, right?”

You turned to the man, hand over your eyes to protect yourself from the harsh rays and take a closer look at him. Just in case it wasn’t him.

“Uh, yeah? You’re the driver, right?”

Daniel gave a wide smile, extending out his hand. “I’m Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Oh my. What a smile he had. The type to make you feel happy just by looking at it. You couldn’t even help but smile in response. You reached out to shake his hand, not ready to feel a weird sort of spark between the two of you.

“I... I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

Daniel slowly removed his hand from yours, grabbing any last second he could. He eyed the briefcase and scuba gear in your hands. “You diving?”

You looked at your equipment. “Well, testing. I’m a marine biologist. Although, I guess I’m still diving.”

Daniel pursed his lips. Now he had to get to know you. You were beautiful and a marine biologist. An Aussie dream.

“Oh yeah? What are you testing?” He queried with a raised brow,

“Oh! Uh, currently things like the local fish populations in decline. Their habitat. Whether they’re safe or not. Algae growth. Predators. pH levels. All the fun stuff...” You sheepishly trailed off once you realised you began rambling.

You didn’t know but in that moment Daniel was in awe of you. The twinkle in your eyes that rose once you talked about your work. Like your work was your passion. That’s how he felt about F1.

You watched Daniel nod as if he were actually interested. “Do you mind if I come with? I won’t contaminate anything. Promise.”

You mended your brows together. It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask to join. But the way Daniel said it… like it was something he had to do or he would regret it for the rest of his life, you couldn’t help feel compelled. “Um, yeah. Do you not have to be on the road or something though? ‘Cause your a driver?”

“Oh F1 only goes between March and November. We’re on holiday at the moment. Well sort of.”

“Oh,” you mumbled out cluelessly. Your cheeks burned with a tinge of embarrassment. How had you managed to get through all these years of living and not known about this?

Daniel laughed lightly at the reddening of your cheeks. Just when he though he could find you any cuter. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you F1. And you can teach me the ocean.”

So the two of you went into your boat. The sun beat down onto you so harshly that for most of it, you had retreated to driving the vessel in the shade as Daniel sat next to you.

It had gone so well that this, whatever it was, became a regular occurrence after you exchanged numbers that day.

You were learning a lot about him and his job. He was actually Italian-Australian. He started this passion with go-karting. You found out F1 wasn’t just racing but it was racing to another extreme. 300 kph. God, getting your car to 100 kph for the open road was thrill enough for you.

That made Daniel wheeze with laughter and promise he would take you for a drive in a sports car to get a taste of the speed he craved for.

Apparently F1 had 10 teams, each with 2 drivers. In each of the teams, the drivers had the same car to drive, cars that were constructed originally by each team. The point of the races were for two championships. The Driver’s World Championship, the title the driver wanted to win, and the Constructors’ Championship, the title everyone from the driver to the team strategist wanted to win. They were calculated by the amount of points received by the drivers in the races.

All the races were settled through a long weekend of sorts. Fridays were for practices to see how the car was on the track as they had different conditions per track. Saturdays were for qualifying. Here, Daniel would push the car to its limits to get the fastest lap time as the drivers were ranked to then get a position for the actual race tomorrow. Sundays were where they raced for points.

All of it was slightly complex, especially with the penalties and rules that they followed. Buy you seemed to get the gist of it.

Daniel had learnt that you had grown up in Australia and like him had to travel a lot for your work. Weirdly, some times his race dates would match up with your travelling. Daniel chose to take that as a sign. You were 8 years younger than him, taking him by a slight surprise. You were 23 and he was 31. But it didn’t seem like it mattered to you. Communication between the two of you was a smooth sail.

Daniel even opened up about his time with Red Bull. A whirl of bad and annoying memories. But when you had said that you would like to see Christian Horner step on to your boat and throw him overboard into a tank of piranhas, only for thirty seconds of course, Daniel had never laughed harder.

━━━━━━━━━━━

By the billionth time you had hung out, the sun was setting in the evening, providing a refreshing cold breeze to match the heat. Christmas was close soon. And Daniel was aching to ask you out.

He had to go into this next season of driving knowing he had you by his side. Even his own family was pushing him to ask. Especially his sister, Michelle, who had dubbed herself the cupid as she was the very brunette who had technically introduced you two, or so she claimed.

The both of you had finished a dive and were heading to Daniel's car. You were supposed to have dinner with his family on this fine evening.

"You good, Danny?" You looked over to the man. Daniel, for the loud and outgoing person he was, was being rather quiet today. You couldn't really put your finger on why either. You took pride in being able to read people. But it looked like his mind was at some sort of battle.

He gave an idle hum, getting into the driver's seat.

You raised a brow, closing the door on the passenger side shut. Your hand reached out to his thigh, making him break his trance and flicker his eyes towards you.

"Listen, I don't know what it is or what's going on. But I'm all ears if you want," You smiled, patting his thigh. You went to remove your hand but Daniel placed his hand over yours, keeping you there.

Daniel's heart was in his throat. He was not normally a nervous man. He was the epitome of confidence. But you seemed to tear that down, in the nicest way, quite easily.

Daniel absorbed your curious eyes before releasing a shaky breath. "Uh," he awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "I'm not normally like this. I can't really explain it... but these past few weeks, I... I haven't felt like this in a really long time. With you I feel free... happy... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really like you. And even if I'm ancient, I would really like to be with you. You know. Together. If that wasn't clear."

The smile on your face the moment you realised what was going on hadn't stopped growing. You watches his eyes dart around, looking for a signal of anything. A yes. A no.

You looked down at your hands. The warmth of his spread among your one. You turned your hand to intertwine them with his and squeezed his hand, looking back up at him. "I think you took the words right out my mouth. I like you too, Danny. A lot. Even as an 'old ass man.'"

An odd silence settled within the car as Daniel simply stared at you, honey brown eyes hold your own.

"Danny? Are you okay?"

Daniel's eyes turned into crescents while his infamous wide smile sprawled onto your face. "Can I kiss you?"

You stilled in the passenger seat. Your eyes flickered to his lips before meeting his eyes once again. You weren't sure if you could trust your voice at the moment so you gave a curt nod.

Daniel smiled softly at the flustered expression you sported. Instead of leaning his head in like you expected to, he reached over to your seat and lifted you out of it. You released a small yelp before landing onto his lap, straddling his crotch as you faced towards him.

Daniel's fingers played with the slightly dampened tresses that had fallen around your face and pushed them behind your ears. His fingers trailed down to your heated cheeks and to your jaw. Bringing you closer to him, he leaned his head towards you.

Daniel's lips fell into yours. His hands soon fell to your back as your arms snaked his neck. The world... your surroundings were all gone. All you could feel was each other. His fingers sneaking past the hem of your shirt and grazing your bare skin. The action sent a wave of heat within you.

You let out a small muffled moan causing Daniel to adjust himself in his seat. A bulge had formed in his pants, aching at your touch. You released yourself from him for a gasp of air, which fell into further pleasurable gasps as Daniel's swollen lips had found your neck, leaving a trail of small sloppy kisses.

Daniel rested his chin onto your shoulder before pulling back to look at you. He grinned at your dazed expression. "As much as I would like to continue this in such a fitting setting like a car, I would rather our first time in an actual bed."

You let out a small laugh, feeling yourself fluster even further while you gave him a tight hug.

And that's how your relationship had started. Since then, it had been almost a year. In that year, you had gotten impossibly closer. You had visited his races without telling him because you were scared. You were scared of distracting him and scared for him. The first F1 race you went to matched up to your meetings with other marine biologists and techs in Spain. God, you didn't know cars could even go that fast. The occasional toss of a car to the side sent fear coursing through you.

Eventually, Daniel had found out and reassured you that you being there wouldn't harm anything. In fact, the thought of it calmed him down and encouraged him. He had even introduced you to some of the team and whispered in your ear when he pointed to Red Bull's team principal.

"Oh... so that's the man going overboard. That's a shame. You didn't tell me he look like a sea otter. Sea otters are supposed look cute. I'll just pretend he's plant plankton."

Daniel had never laughed harder at something. Just when he thought he couldn't love you more. God, you were a sight to behold. He would never understand how you managed to be who you were.

You had felt the same.

Well, at least that was until when you met his new teammate in McLaren, Lando Norris.

Lando was two years younger than you and what some people called the British Ricciardo. He was constantly smiling and cracking jokes. He was the moodmaker.

The vibe he had was like an annoying little brother of a sort.

But people obviously didn't feel attracted to someone if they truly thought of them like that.

You shouldn't feel this way. It was wrong. You had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who adored you. You had tried to keep yourself occupied with your job to avoid having to attend too many races and meet the McLaren team, in fear of meeting Lando.

But of course, how were you going to refuse to celebrate Lando's 2nd podium of the year in Monaco when Daniel asked?

So here you were. In a club dressed in a cream coloured set: a long sleeved bralette and a long skirt starting from your waist, ending just before your heels with a slit in the middle.

The compliment you had received in your ear from Daniel made you wish you could say you were dressed for him in the first place. But it would be a lie to say that.

You had navigated yourself around the club to drown yourself in some alcohol. You needed a distraction and you felt that being some what drunk and out of it would've helped.

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk. you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong. and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us he's in the club doing, i don't know what you're so cool, it makes me hate you so much.

You were out of it for sure. Because sober you did not have the guts you had right now. The guts to not only sit at the same table as Lando but next to him and make fun of his British accent with Carlos.

"No, Carlos. I'm pretty sure he sounded like 'No no no... you ruined my ice cream,'" You laughed lightly as the Spaniard refused to agree with you.

"No he has bit of a weird sound at the 'ruined' part. He sound like those kids in the UK... on the road? What are they again..."

Lando's face burst with amusement. He laughed so hard, he had to prevent his cup from falling out of his hand. "Do you mean..." He gasped for air, "Roadmen?"

Jesus. Carlos Sainz discussing roadmen was the funniest thing that had happened so far.

You weren't sure where Daniel was even. All you knew he was probably talking to some other team member of McLaren. You were rather preoccupied and entranced by the British male next to you.

You couldn't explain it but it was as if there was a magnetic field around him and you, like an element, were simply attracted to him. As if there was no other path to go. He made you laugh differently. Feel differently. He was also a looker. That boyish charm that simply pulled you in. It made you wonder how strong his magnetic field was.

The science of it was simple. You may be a marine biologist but you hadn't flunked physics. The stronger the intensity of a field, the further the magnet, Lando, will be able to attract elements, like you. All you knew was that he was strong enough to inexplicably take you attention away from your own boyfriend.

you're so gorgeous i can't say anything to your face 'cause look at your face. and i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way but what can i say? you're gorgeous.

This attraction you felt to Lando what ridiculous in itself. But you had felt it from when you first met him and you felt it now. Lando was simply gorgeous. His smile was breathtaking. His laugh felt pretty.

And it infuriated you. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop. These feelings, this flutter, this tingle... make it all stop, you wanted to say.

But you could never say that to his face. How could you? Those same things came back every time you looked at him.

The smile. The flutter. The tingle.

You wondered whether he had even looked at himself in the mirror. You wondered whether ever had felt insecure about the way he looked and that if he did, you wished he hadn't.

Everything thing about him was simply enticing. A delightful view... from the arms of Daniel.

you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you. and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room. if you've got a girlfriend, i'm jealous of her. but if you're single that's honestly worse. 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts.

This feeling... this infatuation was overwhelming for you. You were a taken girl. You had even made it was to the multiple Instagram F1 'WAGs' accounts and were met with the most glorious welcomes by fans.

You needed to get a grip on yourself for Christ's sake. Lando was also taken. Even if he was single, which if you were being honest was an insult to romance itself, you didn't have a chance let alone now. No matter how jealous you were, you had to be realistic. You paled in comparison to the fame Portuguese models that F1 drivers often found themselves with.

Of course, you had to admit they were beautiful. You had no conflict with them. They weren't your classic mean girls. They were impossibly nice and you even found yourself in some interesting conversations. But at the end of the day, you were simply a marine biologist.

So in the darkness of the club, you had managed to isolate yourself from Lando, who had gone with Pierre somewhere, and made the struggling and gruelling effort to talk to anyone else but him. You had conversed with Carlos before he had gone somewhere with his girlfriend. You had settle for Charles as a distraction.

Charles was a pleasure to talk to. As always, he was also so kind and sweet with his words. The type you were sure that when you looked at the, you knew that their mother raised them right.

Daniel had finally found his way to you, mentioning that Zak Brown had just pulled him aside for a talking to. You asked if he was okay, in which he responded with a smile and said: "Now that I'm with you, yes."

You managed to give him a soft and believable smile. Daniel was standing behind you, joining in your conversation with Charles. It wasn't until you were in the midst of a conversation about life in Monaco that you felt a hand on yours.

You smiled gently, expecting it to be Daniel's but instead it was Lando's.

ocean blue eyes looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die.

Your eyes snapped up to meet Lando's face. His blue eyes bore into yours.

Those goddamn eyes of his would be the end of you. The similarity of them to the oceans you had travelled and the beautiful creatures you had seen was uncanny.

Your heart paced furiously against your chest. He must've been drunk or tipsy to the very least to stumble onto you. There was no way he had purposely wanted you to drown in his eyes.

You sucked in a quiet sharp breath and edged to removed your hand. But as quickly as you had made that decision, the gnawing feeling at your heart had grown more intense and taunted you. Lando's hand hurried to grab yours and place it back where it was.

Your eyes shook with awe and lingered with a dangerous thrill. You could feel his fingers rub the back of your hand gently before intertwining them.

You looked blankly at the table in front of you while Lando had joined in the conversation so casually, like nothing was even going on. You had to thank your stars that the club was able to be as dark as it was.

A lot of the noise around you had turned into white noise and blurs of sound. Charles must've complimented you as you had managed to capture some mention of fish and coral reefs from your boyfriend.

you make me so happy it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and you are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad. you make me so happy it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone unless, you wanna come along?

It was Daniel kissing your cheek fondly and Lando's hand grazing your knee under the table that had brought you back to reality.

The happiness and adrenaline you felt was wrong. You knew with every crevice and fibre of your body that this had to stop. This attraction and sickly sweet infatuation with Lando. God, he just made you so fuzzy. You could barely think straight.

You were stuck in between two men who had their touch on you. It wasn't right. As much as you liked Lando, he angered your entire being. He had simply waltzed into your life. He was playing along with your feelings.

Lando's damning eyes averted to you when he felt your hand slip away from him forcefully.

You hoped the guilt in your eyes shone as much as they could in this darkness.

You were going to have to break up with a man who would give you everything. You would have to leave all of... this... and get away from here.

You needed everything to return to normal. You had no idea how exactly you were going to explain a sudden return home without inflicting any suspicion.

All you knew now was that you had to make a lengthy apology to a man you had not realised you had fallen out of love with.

You supposed that was love.

Love was a bittersweet feeling. It was beautiful and fluttering but brought a lot of tragedy and strife along with it.

That was love: simply gorgeous.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[endlessthxxghts]

You Better Jump... (1 of 2)

neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: You wake up after a drunk night out to the lock on your door broken. The neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex as you offers to fix it for you.

Warnings: canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). allusions to further sexual activity between reader and Joel, mainly fluff and flirting and embarrassing interactions that'll give you butterflies, an unhinged best friend (vulgar dialogue from said best friend), cellphone audio connecting elsewhere where other people can hear..., 18+ MDNI. F masturbation in a bathtub, Joel having incredible self control until he doesn't, making out... (I think that's it! As always, let me know if there's anything I missed that should be in here!)

Author's note: I intended for this to be a one shot, but I just know the next part will be pretty long. I still need to write up a few more details for part 2, but it will be posted VERY SOON! For now, please enjoy this. :)

PART 2 HERE (VERY NSFW, 18+ MDNI)!! || MASTERLIST

“Shit, I don’t even know which lock to get,” you mutter to yourself as you stand helplessly in the middle of the aisle. 

You went to the bar last night, got a little too drunk for your own good, and when you woke up in the morning, your front door’s lock was broken. You genuinely don’t know how that happened, but you do know that you need to fix it as soon as possible, especially with the fact that you just moved in not too long ago and you live alone. 

“Hey there,” a rough Texan drawl says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a tall, broad man. Soft, brown eyes, a mustache and some scruff along his jawline. He’s clad in a dark blue t-shirt and some jeans. He’s handsome, and oh god, you’ve been completely gawking at him instead of responding. You finally meet his stare, and his eyes twinkle in delight, like he’s enjoying the attention you’re giving him. “Oh, hi, uh- I’m sorry, just kinda zoned out there for a sec,” you ramble on, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, “don’t worry about that.” He smiles, and you’ve never experienced anything more beautiful. “I, uh, couldn’t help but recognize ya, and overhear ya about the locks?” You give a confused look, and he continues, “I think we live in the same apartment complex. You just moved in a few weeks ago, right? I’m Joel.” 

You are seriously so confused right now because you are so sure you would never forget if you had a neighbor that looks this handsome. And apparently all your defenses are down right now because you just fucking said that out loud. 

You can see Joel’s cheeks and neck flush into a bright red, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck and the blush in your face follows. “Holy shit, I did not just fucking say that out loud,” you groan as you bury your hands into your face. You realize you still haven’t introduced your name, so you quickly squeak it out. He tells you it’s nice to meet you followed by your name, and he rambles on, “And I, uh, I’m flattered...you’re, uh, not too bad yourself.” Your head shoots up, and you swear your face cannot get even redder, but somehow it does. 

He senses that you can’t handle anymore of this god awful attempt at flirting, so he saves you by continuing his original thought. “Well, what I was tryna say was- I overheard you sayin’ ya didn’t know which lock to choose? I’m pretty handy in the maintenance department, and I’ve helped a few neighbors in our complex with much more complicated than door locks. Maybe I can help ya?” You feel all the stress from your body completely fade away, and you absolutely take advantage of this beautiful man offering to help with your locks. 

“Oh my god, really? I owe you one, thank you so so much,” you tell him. He smiles. “It’s no trouble at all, darlin,’” he says as he grabs the correct lock for the apartment complex, “this is the one we’d need.” 

All you came here for was for the lock, but you ended up staying with him and having conversation throughout his entire Home Depot run. Turns out he’s a contractor, used to live in a home but since his daughter moved out he doesn’t find the necessity of having a big home for himself. He didn’t sell it though, he let his brother and his wife take it over. Very minimalist kind of guy. 

You forget you two didn’t drive to the store together, so you’re almost kind of bummed at the fact that you have to separate from him. He bids you goodbye and says he has to run a few more errands. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. Is it okay if I swing by your place then?” 

You’ve been so entranced by his presence and your guys’ conversation that you forgot the entire reasoning behind why you began talking in the first place, and it’s heavily evident in your confused look. His lip quirks up again, “…to fix your door lock,” he adds, amused. 

You mentally slap your forehead. Fucking get it together, you think to yourself. “Yes,” you immediately blabber out as soon as you realize you’ve gone quiet again. “Yes, that’s perfect.” 

“Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you in a few,” he says as he shoots you a wink and begins walking in the direction of his truck, and there goes that nickname again. 

Oh, you are absolutely fucked.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s a ten minute drive back home, and as soon as you get back in the car, you call your best friend and tell her what an absolute fool you made out of yourself. 

“BITCH,” she screams, gasping for air at how hard she’s laughing, “I can’t fucking stand you, oh my god, I’m crying.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her, while tears are also streaming down your face, attempting to catch your breath. “Dude, I swear, once you get a good look at him, you’ll see what the fuck I’m talking about, and you’ll see my reaction was VALID to such a beautiful looking man.” 

She stays on the phone with you for the rest of your little drive, and ends your guys’ conversation with, “In all seriousness, though, you better jump on that di-”

You gasp out and yell her name, “OH MY GOD, you’re done. Goodbye.” 

She cackles, “Update me later, babe. I love you.” 

“I love you more, you fuckin’ menace,” you say as you park. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your next few hours are filled with you absolutely stressing. You know Joel is just coming to fix the door, but you can’t shake away the nerves. So you spend the first hour absolutely deep cleaning your apartment. 

You still have about maybe an hour left, so you decide to try and calm your nerves some more with a quick bath. You quickly undress and give yourself a quick wash in the shower to wash all of today’s dirt before you set up your bath. 

Filling up the tub, you throw in some lavender scented bubbles and light your favorite cashmere vanilla candle, the combination of the scents immediately relaxing you. Maybe a little too relaxed, though, because as you sink deeper into the tub, your body can’t help but continue to rise in heat at the thought of Joel. Without thinking, your eyes slowly close and your hand drifts closer to where you’re aching the most. 

You start by drawing soft circles on your clit, pulling soft little mewls from your throat. The thought of those big rough hands pushes you to move a little faster, and the thought of that scruff rubbing against your inner thigh pushes you to dip your middle and ring finger into your entrance, pumping in and out with such a need you haven’t experienced in a while. The sounds coming out of you now are high pitched and whiny, and you can’t help the way your body writhes against the bathtub, sloshing water out the sides. 

Your hips are grinding up against your palm, stimulating your clit while your fingers hit that velvety spot that drives you absolutely mad. You bring your other hand up to your mouth as a reflex to silence your sounds, but an image flashes in your mind that it was Joel’s hand over your mouth instead, and that’s what ends you. 

Your eyes clamp shut, head thrown back, spine completely arched, and all you can see are little white fireworks behind your eyelids as your orgasm breaks you, the lukewarm water feeling hotter than when you first drew the bath. 

You sit there for a moment to catch your breath, willing your body to work since the man you just touched yourself to should be here in any minute. 

You dry yourself off, putting your hair up in a towel and dressing in some gray sweat-shorts and a tank top, not caring to completely doll your figure since he’s in your home after all. Right as you finish up your skincare, you hear a knock at your door. You take one more look at yourself, and you’re still absolutely flushed with a hint of that orgasmic glow, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he can make you cum like that with just the thought of him, you’re absolutely gonna take your best friend’s advice from earlier. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You open the door for him and immediately the heat you tried to save yourself from is back, tenfold. “Hey, darlin’,” he says with a smile. The nickname makes the butterflies in your tummy flutter harder than before. You give a sweet smile back. It’s his turn to melt, but you don’t clock it as easily as he can with you. 

He steps inside, a little closer to you, and immediately he falls to his knees. You watch him, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a few little tools from his back pocket, and suddenly you realize you were holding your breath. Here he is, wasting no time getting started on fixing your door for you while you stare at him like he’s giving you a strip tease, all because he got down on his knees. 

You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, and you offer, “C-can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?” 

He looks up at you, and he cannot get enough. Your flushed cheeks, the way your body language shows your excitement and nerves all in one, your towel lopsided on your head. So goddamn beautiful, he thinks to himself. Again, it’s his turn as he zones out in his thoughts, but this time, you do notice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of confidence shoot down your spine at the fact that you’re affecting him just as much as he affects you. 

Your smirk grows the longer he stares, and finally he realizes what’s happening, and his face goes tomato red. He’s pretty sure no one has ever seen him blush this much since he was a teenager. “Some water would be wonderful, sweetheart, thank you,” he says, thanking whatever God in existence that his words were coherent and not a blubbering mess like his brain. 

“Coming right up,” you say, and make your way into your kitchen, thankful for the little private moment to yourself. As you grab Joel a cup and fill it with ice and water, you feel your phone ring in your pocket. It’s your best friend. You bring your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button on the way up. 

“Hello?” you repeat several times before you hear your best friend, but not through your phone. Forgetting the water for a minute, you scramble to the living room, where Joel is right next to, to hear your best friend coming from your living room speaker: Hello? Can you hear me?? I said did you jump on sexy neighbor’s dick ye-

You hurriedly end the call and throw your phone across the room. Your heart starts to pound even harder when you see Joel in your peripheral view, still working hard on the lock, but he is definitely in the proximity to have seen and heard everything. You quickly turn back to the kitchen to grab the glass, purposely avoiding Joel’s eye.

Quickly you grab the glass and place it on the little table near the front door. Joel sits back on his haunches for a moment and takes a long gulp of the ice cold water. Too amused at the display that happened moments ago, he can’t help himself when he says, “So… sounds like ya got your hands full with that friend of yours, hm?” He looks up at you with mischief in his eye. 

And just like that, any sense of confidence you had at having the upper hand over this Texan man went down the drain. You completely fumble. “Oh- I- yeah, my best friend… Did you hear- Fuck, no, of course you heard, I-” 

Joel pulls himself up to stand at full height, now towering over you. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, pulling you to meet his eyes while also pulling you from the hole you keep digging deeper. You immediately shut up. He has a crooked grin plastered on his face when he says, “I didn’t hear a thing,” followed by a wink. You can feel your knees wanting to buckle. You breathily squeak out an okay and he assures you with another okay in response. You two stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Joel, without thinking, says, “Let me take ya out to dinner.” 

You slowly pull away from his grasp, afraid you’re invading his space even though he just asked you out on a date. He takes it as a sign of discomfort and immediately creates an arm’s length of space between you. “I-I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you uncomfor-” 

“No, Joel, hey,” you cut him off quickly, stepping slightly closer. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you beam up at him, your bottom lip wedged in your mouth to ease your nervousness. “I just pulled away because I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,” you quickly add. 

“That’ll never happen,” he softly says. He steps closer again. “I’m sorry, but I- Shit, okay, I’m a gentleman through and through, but I-” he pauses for a moment, “I just- I really need to kiss you-” 

You don’t let him finish his thought as you grab onto his arms and pull him into you, guiding both his arms around your lower back and guiding your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and the way your noses bump each other ever so often is enough for you to completely buckle. His hold on you is tight enough to keep you standing, but you truly don’t know how much more of this you can take with a certain bulge pushing into your lower belly. His one hand falls lower and testing the waters, he lightly grasps onto your asscheek. You moan into his mouth at that, and he takes that as your signal for him to fully grab you, hiking you up onto your tippy toes in an attempt to consume more of you. He breaks the kiss a little to give you some airflow back, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his kisses to the side of your mouth, to your cheek, gliding down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping anywhere you give him access to. 

You were right. It’s not quite exactly your thighs like you were imagining earlier, but the way his plump lips, mustache, and scruff feel along your neck is absolutely sinful and addicting, and…

Oh, you are absolutely fucked. 

Author's note - extended: I hope you guys enjoyed this enough to tune in to part 2! The 2nd part will be very SMUTTY, so... ;)

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[604to647]

Strawberry Shortcake (part 2 of 2)

13.4K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: How are you supposed to avoid Frankie when your son and his daughter are becoming best friends?

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Angssssst and mutual pining. Single parenthood, mention of the death of a spouse, divorce (no detail). Mention of f!masturbation, slow burn, nicknames (Shortcake, baby, hermosa), minor appearance by TF boys. Everyone is a dummy. Wee bit of spice for these dummies at the end (no spoilers but let’s just say Frankie may be a dad, but he's also daddy).

A/N: Uhhhh sorry for the word count 🫣 Thank you so much for the lovely reception to Part 1 🥹🍓🍰The feel of this part is very different than the first; due to the setting of Part 1, it was a lot more sensual. This part is more domestic, almost a friends-to-lovers slow burn - I hope people who liked the first part will still find it enjoyable 🫣 Unfortunately, Frankie does not get 🍴😺 in this part (spoiler) which is honestly just a darn shame, so I wrote an Epilogue that I will post together with Part 2, which is a bit more of mixed vibe of the two previous parts. Thank you for reading!

Part 1 / Epilogue / Series Masterlist 🍓🍰

Strawberry dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘🍓

It could be two seconds.  Possibly a whole minute.  Maybe even ten.

You honestly can’t tell how long you and Francisco stand outside the kindergarten class room staring at each other.

At a loss for words, you don’t even know how to begin a conversation that you couldn’t have imagined ever having.  You never thought you’d see Francisco again, and certainly not under these circumstances – that he has a daughter is entirely news to you, though not unfair.  Afterall, he didn’t know you have a son.  During your time together, you had omitted certain personal details out of self preservation and it would seem, so did he. 

After you had left the club, Francisco remained an ever-present figure in your fantasies: your handsome and courteous gentle giant who made you feel safe and desired, and whose touch you only knew once – a first and last kiss that still makes your body strum just to recall.  His soft looks and soulful expressions dominated your nighttime dreams and sometimes even your daytime ones.  He wasn’t supposed to come to life. 

And yet, here he is, standing in front of you looking even more striking than you remember.  Your memories failed to capture the way his brown eyes fleck with gold, or the way the facial scruff you loved running your fingers through is adorably patchy in that one spot along his left jawline.  His hair is slightly longer than you remember, but the curls that peek out from beneath his familiar Standard Oil cap look to be just as touchable as the ones you’d twist around your fingers in that private room at the club.

Your fingers itch as if recalling some latent muscle memory, but it’s Francisco who moves first.

Stepping forward, he approaches you with his hand out to shake yours, “Hi, I’m Frankie. Valentina’s dad.”

Oh.

That’s what you’re doing.  You’re pretending you’ve never met before.

Your heart constricts painfully in your chest as you reciprocate his gesture and introduce yourself as your son’s mother.  Francisco’s smile at your name is kind, but you see nothing more to it behind his eyes. 

It’s not lost on you that this is the first time Francisco has reached out and touched you of his own volition.  Unless you counted that soft kiss you had felt on your back after he helped you redress on your last night together; in this moment, you think you must have imagined it – perhaps it would be best not to count it at all.

Frankie’s warm, firm hand lets go of your softer one as quickly as he had grasped it, darting past you to shake the hands of the other parents standing in the same hallway.  You turn and smile, introducing yourself as well, and for the next several minutes your small group of parents makes small talk about your children and continue to sneak peeks into the kindergarten classroom until the teacher comes to close the door with a reassuring smile.

Once the remaining parents have said their polite goodbyes, you turn to look for Francisco but find that he’s already left the building.  You see his retreating figure halfway down the path to the parents’ parking lot, walking hurriedly.

He can’t get away from you fast enough, you realize, devastated.

You manage to hold your tears in until you park outside of work.  Sitting in your car, you sob stupidly.  You had thought of Francisco every day since you left The Midnight Palace.  Wondered if he had been hurt when he had come back and found out you had left.  Thought about what he might be doing and if work at the hangar was less stressful these days.  Fantasized about where your relationship might be if you had met and dated like regular people.  Heard his soft voice in your head while in bed, guiding your hand between your legs and bringing you to a thundering climax to images of his handsome face, playful smirk and lustful gaze.  But never in your wildest imagination did you think he would pretend not to know you.

The rest of your work day is filled with free floating thoughts about Francisco popping up to distract you from your work - all depressing.

Could he be married?  You suppose you had never asked, just assumed he wasn’t from the lack of ring.  With some distress, you allow that you didn’t know he had a child - a hidden wife wouldn’t be too farfetched.

Suddenly ashamed, you realized that while there had definitely been some kind of connection, due to the nature of how you met, every physical advance had been made by you.  You were the one who had pushed forward your physical relationship, taking every next step that he had never asked for. 

No.  You can’t bring yourself to believe it.  The Francisco you had met didn’t seem like the type to cheat – he had been honourable, respectful, kind.  But then again, it’s possible you didn’t know him at all, you concede sadly.

Maybe his reaction this morning’s reaction had been due to shock.  You had felt it as well, and you suppose everyone processes the unexpected differently.  Perhaps after school you’ll get a chance to speak with Francisco, or rather Frankie, and the two of you can figure this out together.

But pick-up goes much the same as drop-off.  You see Frankie among the other parents waiting in the hall, amiably chatting, and though he acknowledges you with a small nod when he sees you join the conversation, he otherwise ignores you.  You’re grateful for when the bell rings, not sure how much longer you can maintain a neutral expression and keep the tears prickling the corners of your eyes at bay.

The children stream out of the room in a sudden burst of activity, each ramming themselves into a waiting parent, excitedly chatting about their day.  Your full attention happily turns to Raynor, and you don’t even realize that Frankie has left until you see him drive by on the way to your car, Valentina’s smiling face pressed up against the back window waving wildly to your son.

And it’s the same every day after: simple salutations and impersonal small talk at drop-off and pick-up.  More often than not, Frankie barely looks at you - he’s never rude or unkind, but disappointingly detached and uninterested.  It’s as if those summer nights in that private room never happened, or worse, they did but didn’t mean to him what they had meant to you.  It becomes painfully clear to you that they didn’t.

Some time during the third week of school, an epiphany hits you like a ton of bricks: he’s embarrassed.  Maybe even ashamed.  And while you don’t think it’s warranted, you can empathize.  Maybe he’s embarrassed to have seen the mother of his daughter’s friend half naked.  Or maybe he’s embarrassed that someone outside his army buddies knows how often he frequents a strip club.  As far as you could tell, he had been candid and honest with what he did choose to share with you in that room, and perhaps he hadn’t expected those raw and vulnerable feelings to be known by someone he would see nearly every day.  Maybe he was just embarrassed by it all, you.  It crushes you that what are cherished memories for you would cause Frankie any distress, but you’re not so unfeeling that you would want to force him to feel any more discomfort than he already does.

So, you don’t push and you don’t engage; you let Frankie ignore you and even though your heart is broken, you can’t find it within you to harbour any malice towards this man who was once the source of so much comfort and desire.

This works as well as it can until Raynor starts asking if he can have a playdate with Valentina.

“Just call her.”

Completely useless advice.  His friends are full of absolute nonsense suggestions.

Frankie has no idea what to do.  You’re slipping away again and he has no clue how to coax you back to him.  And neither do Santi, Will or Benny, apparently.

Every recommendation they make is predicated on Frankie having not made a total ass of himself since the start of school.  So absolutely useless.  Frankie presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and groans in frustration.  You’re an idiot, Morales.

On that first day of school, he had been so preoccupied with comforting Valentina that he hadn’t noticed you until you turned around in that hallway.  It was you – in a much more covered up state of dress, hair and face softer in the light of day that he had been used to, but it was you.

A million emotions race through his very soul the second he recognizes your face: shock, disbelief, relief, desire being the most prominent.  Frankie’s immediate instinct is to pull you into his arms and cup your pretty face in his hands – to trace every slope and line with his fingers (and maybe his lips) to make sure you were real.

Fuck.  He had missed you so much. 

Returning to The Midnight Palace two weeks after that unforgettable kiss, Frankie had been confused, then worried when you weren’t there.   He knew you were planning on going back to your lab assistant job at the end of the summer, but that wasn’t supposed to be for a few more weeks.  Your unexpected absence left him hallow and worried, realizing that he actually knew very little about your life – something could have happened to you and he would never know.  He had sat stage side with the boys, fidgeting and anxious the whole night; eyes darting to the employee entrance every time there was movement - thinking, hoping you might walk in and flash him that drop-dead gorgeous smile of yours that he took comfort in every day.

But you never showed.

And two weeks later you still weren’t there.  After Frankie had sulked for hours, terrifying the new cocktail waitress with his scowl, Will had taken pity on him and asked Sasha, the dancer from whom you borrowed the strawberry scented glitter gel that he loved so much, and that’s when he finally learned that you had left three weeks ago. 

Frankie was despondent.  He hadn’t felt the way he felt about you in a really long time and he had harboured secret hopes that the two of you might try take what you shared in the private room out of the club, into the real world.  After one too many pep talks from his friends, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out only to discover you gone for good, leaving him no way to find you.  The boys tried to cheer him up by offering to buy him a lap dance, but Frankie had refused – he didn’t want it.  He wanted you.  He had cut the night short and hadn’t joined his friends at The Midnight Palace since; he didn’t need your absence thrown in his face on a regular basis.

He dreams of you constantly.  Hazy, dimly lit dreams illuminated by that smile he can’t forget; flashes of soft curves and barely-there wisps of fabric that laid snug overtop.  Your lithe fingers dance into his mind’s eye until his sensory memory kicks in and his skin prickles while he sleeps, remembering how it felt when you would touch him – silky soft caresses along the worn lines of his face, lips, hands that always made him long for more of you.   He wakes up hard and missing you more than when he went to sleep, deflating when he remembers that he’ll never feel your touch again.

Now here you are and it’s not a dream.  You’re here.  Close enough to touch.

But just as Frankie is about to reach for you, two things happen simultaneously.  The first is he realizes the two of you aren’t alone and that a few other kindergarten parents stand behind you.  He suspects that you might not want to share your reunion with strangers or field any potential questions about how the two of you might know each other.

The second is that he’s hit with a wave of crippling doubt.  What if you weren’t happy to see him?  Maybe you hadn’t thought and dreamt of him every day since that last, incredible encounter together like he did you.  Afterall, you hadn’t left him a note or any way to contact you; perhaps you had put him out of your mind and left him behind as a memory of the summer, much like you did the club.

So, at the very last second Frankie pivots and shakes your hand, introducing himself then immediately does the same with the other parents, not wanting to single you out in front of them.

The look of hurt on your face flashes for only a millisecond, but Frankie sees it.  He immediately regrets his actions, but as the subsequent minutes tick by, filled with inconsequential small talk among the parent group, he can’t think of a way to recover and like a coward, he runs.

Frankie meant to start over with you at pick-up, but once more the two of you aren’t alone so he again opts for a polite interaction over an overly familiar one.  And then his priority is Valentina, as yours was your son, and the chance to reconnect once again slips through his fingers.

It’s same the next day and the next, and the following week and the one after that, until it’s been so long and the list of things left unsaid between the two of you grows overwhelming, that even if you had missed him and wanted to rekindle something, you most certainly didn’t anymore.  Maybe you even hated him a little.

So, Frankie resigns himself to having what he can of you without crossing any lines, just like it was for him back at the club.  He steals glances at you at school when you’re not looking and catches up on your life based on what he overhears you sharing with other parents or when he’s lucky enough to be part of the group you’re addressing.  The more he learns about you, the more he admires you – you make juggling parenthood and an impressive career look easy.  You were still the sweet and gentle creature he had fallen for over the summer, but now he knows you to be whip smart and a wonderful mom.  He didn’t think you could be any sexier or more beautiful than how he remembered you, but he’s happily proven wrong day after day. 

And you still smell like strawberries. 

Sometimes it takes all of Frankie’s self control not pull you into his embrace and spill out his feelings right there in front of your children’s hung artwork, so he tries not to look at you too much.

His heart calls for you.  But you aren’t his to have.  Maybe you never were.

It’s possible that Frankie may have just gone on living with this ever-present dull ache in his heart, resigned to being near but so terribly far away from you, if it weren't for his darling precocious daughter who insisted on being best friends with your son. 

Fed up with her father’s evasive answers and non-committal promises of talking to you about a playdate, young Valentina Morales decides that she’s going to try her hand at those “good decisions” her teacher is always talking about.  She and her best friend Raynor whisper secretly as they exit their classroom at the end of the day, looking up in tandem when they’ve stopped right in front of you.

“Raynor’s mom?  Could Raynor and I have a playdate?” Valentina smiles sweetly.

“Oh!” they’ve surprised you but not really - Raynor has been ask for the same for the past two weeks.  Your son and his best friend look up expectantly at you, eyes full of hope and excitement – manipulative little buggers, you chuckle to yourself.  Valentina’s little smile is especially beguiling; Francisco must never be able to say no to this face. 

Francisco.  Right.  You look up to see Frankie looking at his daughter with a mortified expression – you almost laugh out loud.  Yep, it’s clear who the boss in the Morales household is.

You kneel down to get to the kids’ level, “Alright.  How about this, girly-pop?  I’m taking to Ray-ray to the aquarium this weekend and if,” you pause here for effect and reiterate again, “if your father says it’s okay, you should definitely come with us and we can get lunch, and catch the walrus show, and stick our hands in the touch pools until they tell us to stop.  What do you think?”

Valentina and your son nod their little heads eagerly.  You smile at them and then up at Frankie, the two of you exchanging soft, familiar smiles.

“What about right now?”

Your head snaps back to your son and his friend, the two of them now smiling conspiratorially.

“Mama, Valentina says her and her dad are going to the park right now.  Can we go too?”

Ohhhh… you had underestimated these two.  Completely unable to come up with an excuse on the spot, you open and close your mouth two or three times, “Well… um… I’m sure that… uh…”

Frankie saves you, “If you’re free, we’d love for you and Raynor to join us at the park.  It’s the one a few blocks from here and we were just going to walk.”

You look at Francisco, wide-eyed.  This might be the most he’s spoken to you since the start of school; this smidgen of attention shouldn’t make your heart beat the way it does, but you feel nervous and maybe even excited about spending some time with Frankie after all this time.  Dumbly, you nod.  The children cheer and high-five each other.

The walk to the park is short and easy, the children happily skipping hand in hand ahead of you and Frankie – but between the two of you, there is a vague undercurrent of tension that settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk.  This is the first time since the club that you’ve been alone with Frankie – it’s funny, in the private room you wore nothing but your underwear and never felt as exposed as you do now.

The children run straight to the playground as you and Frankie settle on a nearby bench, sitting on opposite ends with snacks for the kids laid out between you. 

Frankie opens a Tupperware container full of cut vegetables and unscrews a little container of ranch dip, sucking his fingers clean of any overspill; you can’t help but stare, practically drooling at the sight of him popping his thick, meaty fingers between his plush lips.  When Frankie catches you looking, he chuckles and you avert your eyes quickly with a smile. 

To save face, you say the first thing that comes to mind, “That’s a lot of snacks.”

The two of you share an easy laugh while Frankie offers you the container and you gladly select a few cucumber slices.

“Gotta have all the options,” explains Frankie, “Valentina changes her mind about food constantly.  Never know if this is the week she decides grapes are evil.”

“Oh, Raynor is the same way.  Some days I feel like the lunch I pack him is just performance art for the teacher.”

There’s a pause of quiet after you both chortle at the ridiculousness of your children’s eating preferences.  It’s not uncomfortable, but it is palpable.

You find yourself obliged to fill the unaddressed divide between you and Frankie; you’re almost loathed to broach this topic, but you can’t be sure this new pleasantry isn’t a one-time thing so tentatively you ask, “Does Valentina’s mom ever do drop-off or pick-up?  I work at home at night as part of my flexible hours arrangement so I can do both, but it can’t be easy as a mechanic and pilot.”

It’s the first time either of you has made even the slightest allusion to having known each other previously, and though you look nervous to have done it, Frankie finds it a relief that you broke the ice.

“Twice a month I work weekends to make up the hours, but the boss isn’t that strict – it’s Pope,” he grins, and you do too, having forgotten that his friend helped run the hangar Frankie worked at. 

“Oh my goodness!  How is he?  How are Will and Benny?” you ask amiably.

“They’re all great – I don’t see Will and Ben as much as I do Santi, but at least once a week, they come by for tea time with Valentina,” Frankie grins.

Your giggles at this image are so pure and unadulterated, Frankie feels his heart lighten just from the sound.  You seem to have forgotten the part of your original question about Valentina’s mom, but Frankie hasn’t, “… and Valentina stays every second weekend with her mom.  Friday night to Sunday afternoon… so no school stuff.”  He flits his eyes to the playground to check on the kids who are playing some type of pirate ship pretend, and mouths the word ‘Divorce’.

“Oh,” you nod, sympathetically, “I’m sorry.”  You realize this explains why Frankie would only come in to the club every second Friday.

“It’s okay,” says Frankie, matter-of-factly, “it’s better this way.  We’re both happier.  And I think that’s a good thing for Valentina.”

You nod because you vehemently agree.  From what you’ve seen of some of your friends’ marriages, divorce is hard on kids, but an unhappy household is worse.  You follow Frankie’s lead and watch the kids for a bit too before you hear him hesitantly clear his throat, “And Raynor’s dad?  He isn’t one for pick-up and drop-off?”

Eyes shiny, your tone is gentle, “Raynor’s dad passed when he was just a baby.  He never knew him.”  It’s been over five years and your grief still comes and goes, sometimes sharp, other times dull.  Sometimes Raynor will do something that reminds you so much of your late husband, you find yourself locking yourself in the bathroom and sobbing.  Other times, the resemblance will fill you with nostalgia and joy, and you’ll startle your son with your seemingly sudden burst of affection – you never really know how it will go, but you’ve learned to let it come in whatever form it chooses; just feel it and ride it out.  Today, here with Frankie, it’s a small tug to your heart that prickles just a little so that tears mist your eyes but don’t spill over.  You glance over at Frankie who’s looking at you with such a kind and loving expression that you have to turn away, afraid your naïve heart will misinterpret his look for feelings that don’t exist; you finish softly, “It was a car accident.”

Frankie feels his heart clench upon learning that you’re a widow.  He would have never guessed.  At the club, and during the limited time he’s spent with you at the school, you always seem to carry yourself with such an unflappable grace - voice gentle and laughter ready and light.  That you do so having suffered such tragedy in your life makes him admire you more than he already does; Frankie’s heart is bursting with emotion and his hands itch to pull you in for a hug.  Instead, he clenches his fists and says with as much tenderness as he can, “I’m sorry for your and Raynor’s loss.”

“Thank you,” you say softly; you don’t detect any pity in Frankie’s voice – only sympathy and compassion.  You’re grateful for him.

You wouldn’t have predicted it, but this small moment of vulnerability seems to wash away all the awkwardness and hesitancy that you and Frankie never even acknowledged.  Your conversation flows easily afterwards, much like it did back in that private room when you would sit in his lap and the two of you would just talk.  Talking to Frankie now is as easy as it was then - he’s as good of a listener as you remember and his own stories and comments are shared with an infectious light humour, engaging and inviting.  In fact, you end up so engrossed in the conversation, you absentmindedly eat half of Valentina’s snacks – for which Frankie teases you mercilessly.  In response, you pull secret snack bags out of your purse and he doubles over in laughter, “You’ve been holding out on me!”

When the kids have had their fill of play and snack, your foursome starts on the walk back to the cars.  During this time, you easily pull from Valentina that she prefers your snacks over her fathers; you mockingly pat Frankie on the shoulder and declare that it’s about variety.  When Valentina pointedly says to you she hasn’t forgotten about the aquarium playdate, Frankie leans over and whispers, “Now we know why she said your snacks are better,” and you giggle uncontrollably.  Frankie thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

And that’s how your friendship with Frankie Morales begins.

He comes to aquarium on Sunday and the visit is beyond pleasant, all the more so due to the company – you and Frankie hang back while the kids walk hand and hand from exhibit to exhibit, only being called forth when they need an adult to read from info cards about the exotic marine life.  The two of you chat animatedly with no awkward pauses, the only breaks coming from gentle looks exchanged when you pause to take in the happiness and joy of your children.

You have to admit, in the darkness of the aquarium, Frankie looks exceptionally handsome – reminding you a little of how he looked in the dim lighting at the club.  The shadows cast by the watery tanks accentuate his strong jaw line and aquiline nose, making Frankie’s already striking profile all the more breathtaking.  When you unexpectedly see him through the jelly fish tank, a gasp escapes on the soft exhale of your breath at how his expressive eyes catch the light reflecting off the water; he’s really so beautiful.  You quickly look away so not to be caught in your ogling – the two of you have only begun to reconnect as friends; you don’t want things to go back to being awkward and stilted just because you can’t keep things appropriate.

The walrus and seal lion show put Raynor and Valentina in such high spirits, that you can’t bear to separate them so soon after; all agree to extend the playdate longer to a fun and lively dinner, where you and Frankie show off your crayon colouring skills on the restaurant placemats. The children declare your masterpieces to be a tie.

Your renewed ease with one another and Raynor and Valentina’s fast blooming friendship lead to more afterschool park playdates with Frankie during the week and you hosting playdates at your house on the weekends.  Every so often, Frankie’s friends will organize an activity for the kids; it might be a small cookout, some mini sports game for the kids (t-ball, soccer, touch football), or even one of those famous tea parties that Benny likes so much – but Uncle Santi, Uncle Will and Uncle Ben welcome your son with open arms and you couldn’t be more grateful. 

You don’t have any brothers, and one thing you’ve always felt a little insecure about is the lack of male figures in Raynor’s life – you don’t think it means anything’s missing, but the truth is you don’t know how what you can’t provide impacts your young son.  You’re thankful for the positive male camaraderie energy and filial love that Frankie and his friends demonstrate and shower upon your son; when you tell Frankie this, his heart shatters and soars at the same time.  He finds single fatherhood to be more challenging that he’s sometimes willing to admit, but in some ways, he chose it with open eyes – he can’t imagine what it must have been like to have Raynor’s father, your partner, ripped from you, and have to carry forth taking on both parental roles.  Frankie thinks you’re doing a more than admirable job and when he tells you so, you cry a little.  

You’ve watched Frankie as a father: he’s kind and doting, gentle and patient when he needs to be, and models for Valentina how to be selfless and considerate.  Ever aware of his own and his daughter’s limits and boundaries, he keeps her safe while encouraging her in the most energetic and supportive way in all her endeavours.  You find Valentina to be a charming, smart and forthright child, capable of a wonderful mix of compassion, sweetness and playfulness – her outgoing personality is such a welcomed compliment to your son’s sometimes more cautious nature; Raynor’s own strong confidence often tempering her impulsiveness.  She’s such a lovely friend to Raynor and you find that you love her very much.  You attribute so much of what you love about to Valentina to her fantastic father; for him to compliment your own parenting means the world.

As the months go on, the children’s ever more frequent playdates tie you and Frankie together for most days and even some nights.  Daytime play easily extends to include dinners at your respective houses, and somehow dinners start to transition into movie nights on your couch that are spent with the four of you under blankets and passing the popcorn back and forth.  On that first night of many where the kids fall asleep before the movie ends, you agree with Frankie that it would be a potential disaster to move Valentina too much when transporting her home and risk a full out melt down – you offer the guest bedroom as a much more amenable option.  A relieved Frankie sleeps on the couch. 

The next morning, the two of you wake before the children and meet in your kitchen, already bright with sunlight streaming in through the big bay window that overlooks your backyard.  You realize with an ache that Francisco does smile at you in the morning light the way he used to in the club: soft and disbelieving.  You hope he can’t hear the loud beating of your heart as you make coffee, and try to settle the racing of your heart before the two of your sit at your kitchen counter and enjoy the luxury of a warm cup of coffee in the quiet, a rare respite from needing to cater to the needs of your small children.  The quiet conversation during what becomes a regular weekend morning occurrence is always comforting and comfortable; it confirms what you’ve always known: Frankie Morales is a catch.

During these tranquil mornings, there’s always a moment when you have to catch yourself from falling into the dangerous trap of admitting just how attracted to Frankie you are.  Sometimes you do deep breathing exercises while you rinse out the coffee cups, other times, you’ll have to step away to ignore how sweet Frankie is when he draws smiley faces on the kids’ waffles with the whipped cream.  But you always have to do something.  You can’t let yourself fall for Frankie.

As your children grow closer, so naturally do you and Frankie, but neither of you ever bring up your past together at the club.  Not a word about how you met or what you shared those months in the summer, and certainly no mention of that last night where you bared your body to him and the two of you shared a kiss that still haunts your dreams.  Any time one of you alludes to something about the other that you could have only learned during your time together in the private room, you carry on without acknowledging how you might be privy to that tidbit.  It’s as if it never happened.  And while those summer months live in your memory as a time when you had felt special and desired, you accept it doesn’t hold the same sentiment for Frankie. 

Frankie.  Always Frankie.  You never ever call or think of him as Francisco.  Francisco is a man who only exists in your dreams – a fantasy who openly desired a you who was sexy, in control and mysterious.  He was kind, respectful, and made you feel gorgeous and wanted.  For your own sanity, you force yourself to separate him from Frankie.  Frankie is the father of your son’s best friend.  You’re no mystery to him: he sees you at your most frazzled, tired - when you forget it’s pizza day or when you’re so late for drop-off that you’re still tucking your shirt into your skirt while rushing Raynor down the path to school.  He’s kind and respectful as well, but about different things – he understands your struggles as a single mom and knows just how to lift your spirits and encourage you when you need it the most or lends a helping hand with the kids and household tasks before you even had to ask.  He makes your life happier, lighter. 

Francisco had been yours for a short time, and for that you remain grateful, but he wasn’t someone you would ever hold or kiss; you’d never know him like you had known him for those sweet summer months.  He was gone.

Frankie is your friend.  He’s here now and you don’t ever want to lose him.

You don’t conflate the two men because you can’t – it’s too dangerous to want something that isn’t meant for you.  So, you mourn Francisco and you cherish Frankie, always holding yourself back from loving him, except perhaps in the deepest, most secret chambers of your heart.

Raynor’s birthday party is in full swing.  You found one of those bouncy castle rental places that set-up inflatables in people’s backyards for a totally reasonable price and now your backyard is full of happy, bouncy kids having the times of their lives tumbling and scrambling through giant blow up houses and castles; there’s even a maze that ends in a massive ball pit.  There are kids from school, kids from the neighbourhood, a few of your friends and co-workers’ kids, and even some kids whose moms have moms that play mahjong with yours.  Raynor is over the moon and as far as you’re concerned, the more the merrier.

Frankie and Valentina had come over before the party started; Valentina wanting to give her best friend his present early and maybe sneak in some extra bouncy castle time.  While the kids bounced, Frankie helped you set-up tables and chairs and inquired if he could run the BBQ for you; you had protested, saying that you would be able to handle it, but Frankie insisted.  Now that the party is underway, you have to admit that between greeting all the kids and parents, supervising the bouncy castles and making sure that drinks and snacks are readily available, you would have struggled to cook lunch as well.  As a bonus, you admit, grinning to yourself, Frankie is looking pretty good at the grill.

Getting an early start on dishes before prepping the cake, you have the perfect view of Frankie through your kitchen window; turning over hotdogs with his tongs and plating cooked hamburger patties in an adorable blue apron, Frankie looks positively delicious.  His tan face brightened by his good mood and sweat from the heat of the grill dotting his rugged neck, he’s smiling a smile that reveals his elusive dimple as he takes pride and joy in his domestic responsibility. 

Maybe, you think, just maybe you can allow yourself just one moment of fantasy where the food Frankie’s currently grilling is the main course to a side salad you’re preparing in the kitchen of the house the two of you share.  And he’ll come in when the meat’s done the way he knows you like and wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing sweet, but hungry kisses to your neck before murmuring cheekily that he really could eat.  In your daydream, you squeal when he spins you around with blinding speed before sighing into the slow, tender kiss pressed to your lips. 

And perhaps your imagination might even take your make believe even further if at that exact moment you didn’t see Amanda, your mom’s mahjong friend’s daughter sauntering up to the grill flirtatiously.  The happy illusion you conjured dissolves as you watch her chat up Frankie and put her arm on his bulging bicep just before his piercing brown eyes crinkle and he throws his head back in a loud laugh at her touch.

Immediately, your eyes fill with tears and the devastating scene in front of you blurs.  Unable to stop them from spilling over, you strip off your dishwashing gloves and run to the bathroom as quickly as you can; locking the door behind you, you lean over the sink and sob.

Stupid.  Stupid.  Why are you crying?  Frankie isn’t yours. 

If anything – he’s less likely to be yours than anyone else’s; the two of you forever separated by your shared past at the club that embarrasses him so.  And yet, you can’t help wanting him, and not even Francisco, but Frankie – the considerate man who derives simple joy from helping others, whose unwavering support has made you a more lighthearted, joyful parent, and who has readily taken up the mantle of being a calm and stable presence in your son’s life.  It seems this same Frankie can also be flirty and coy, but that was for other women.  Not you. 

Stupid.  Stupid.  He doesn’t want you. 

But you still wanted him.  Gosh, you wanted him so much.  But he isn’t yours to have.

It's so dumb to cry over a boy, you tell the tear-stained you in the mirror.  You grin, imaging yourself saying that to an older Valentina one day; but even that small comfort is ripped from you as you realize with sadness that it may not be your place.  No.  Frankie will meet someone, it’s inevitable.  He’s sweet, smart, funny and kind, and stupidly gorgeous – one day, there will be a woman who captures his heart and then you’ll have to give up your friendship for fear of succumbing to a broken heart.

Wiping away your tears and cleaning up the best you can, you tell mirror you to get it together.  It’s your son’s birthday – today is about him and not your pathetic pining over his best friend’s father.  The comically accusatory look you give yourself galvanizes you enough to exit the bathroom, and you walk back to the kitchen ready to finish your chores and check in on the party.  Instead, you find the object of all your desires and the source of your current distress waiting for you in the kitchen.

---

Frankie’s sweating – the BBQ is hot and the party guests are gobbling up everything he cooks before he even has a chance to put more on the grill.  As sweltering as it is, he’s very glad to play grill master if it means one less thing for you to have to do.  He’s spent most of the party watching you juggle your multiple roles with hurried grace: mom, party host, snack fetcher, drink refiller, clean-up crew, boo-boo fixer.  When he saw you bravely dive into the ball pit to help a child find her lost shoe, he had grinned to himself so goofily he almost burned the chicken wings. He didn’t think he could be more hopelessly in love with you, but he should have known you would prove him wrong, as you often did with matters of his heart.  The only downside to being stationed at the BBQ is that he hasn’t spent any time with you today.  He thinks he saw you duck back into the house with a stack of dirty dishes – have you eaten today?  He closes up the grill and does a quick check on Valentina and Raynor before plating you some food and heading in.

He's just been standing in the kitchen wondering where you were for a few minutes when you emerge looking a bit off coloured and somewhat startled to see him.

In what has now practically become second nature, Frankie forces his body to ignore the near constant urge to reach out to you – his immediate impulse being to hold you close and stroke your face with his fingers to soothe and comfort you.  You wouldn’t want that, though. 

Instead, he shows his concern another way; holding out the plate of food in front of him, he looks at you with some tenderness, “Have you eaten, Shortcake?”

Heart racing upon hearing this long lost term of endearment, you’re too stunned speak, able only to silently shake your head in response.

Frankie knows that you’ll come up with some excuse to put your needs behind that of the party goers, so he puts the plate down on and guides you to sit before you can do so, “You have to eat.  I’ll keep an eye out on things from here.”

Admittedly, you’re starving and the food Frankie’s brought you smells mouth watering good; with a small nod of thanks, you acquiesce.  For several minutes there’s a comfortable silence while you eat and Frankie looks out the window to keep watch on the party.  Between bites, you gaze adoringly at the handsome profile of the sweet man before you - he knew you hadn’t eaten and he came to take care of you, feed you with food he cooked himself.  Your heart swells at his thoughtfulness and quietly you say, “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Frankie looks back at you.  He doesn’t need to ask what you mean, “I didn’t think I should.  Not in front of the other parents.”

You nod, understanding, “I guess it would be rather embarrassing to have to explain.” 

Brows furrowing, Frankie looks at you for a beat before turning to face you fully, trying to keep his voice even, “I want you to know, I would never tell anyone about the club… please know, I’m not embarrassed by it and I don’t think you should be either… not saying you are, just that you don’t have any reason to be… but some people can be weird and judgemental about that kind of thing… I want you to rest assured that I won’t ever put you in a position like that.”

It’s the first time since the start of the school year that Frankie’s acknowledged how the two of you met or even mentioned the club – it never occurred to you that his avoidance of the topic was to protect you.  For the billionth time since you met him, you’re touched by the considerate nature of this man, “Thank you, Frankie.  I wasn’t worried that you would, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always, Shortcake.”

The two of you exchange a soft smile, not unlike the ones you used to share back at The Midnight Palace, as if you’re each thinking back to your time together there.  Afraid of becoming too wistful, Frankie jokes lamely, “Plus, I would be outing myself as a loser who has to pay a beautiful woman to talk to me every two weeks.”

Even if he’s saying it like a joke, there’s an undercurrent of melancholy to Frankie’s tone that you don’t understand – but you try to reassure him anyways, “No, no - don’t say that, Frankie.  I could never think you’re a loser.  And it was never about the money for me – I wanted to talk to you, really.”

Lifting his cap and running his hand through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck, Frankie chuckles softly, “Ok, thanks… that’s good to hear.”

It strikes you that he may be looking for some similar reassurance that you won’t “out” him, the way he had assured you, “And same here.  I would never share that about you.  You’re right, you never know how people might react to that kind of thing.  I look back at the time we spend together so fondly and I’m so very appreciative of how well you treated me… I could never forgive myself if how we met somehow caused you any problems, or got in the way of anything you wanted.  So, please don’t worry about me telling anyone either.”

Your wording choice seems a bit odd to Frankie, but still, his heart perks up a little to hear you say that your memories of your time together at the club are pleasant, and he simply says, “Ok, thank you.”

You didn’t realize that having this unspoken thing between you and Frankie had been like an albatross around your neck, but suddenly you feel a lot happier and cheery.  Having finished your food, you clean up after yourself and head to the fridge, chirping, “Do you mind helping me with the cake?”

You know Frankie’s answer without even seeing him nod; this generous man has never turned down an opportunity to help you.  When you place the cake in front of him, he beams, “Oooh!  Strawberry shortcake!  My favourite.”

Smiling, you say somewhat shyly, “I remember.”  Your mind immediately travels back to sitting in Frankie’s lap, scantily clad, the very glitter gel that inspired him to tell you this fact about himself spread generously over the ample curve of your breasts.  Frankie’s mind goes straight to the same memory and his face reddens.

Practically stuttering, you try to explain, “… but that’s not why I made it!  Raynor requested the cake!”

Your flustering doing nothing but endearing you to him further, Frankie can’t help but tease, “Sure, sure.”

You swat at his arm, playfully, “He did!”

Grinning, Frankie lets you off the hook, “Okay, okay - lil’ dude has good taste in cake then.”

And though your heart is still far from healed, this is the best you’ve ever felt around Frankie, so reminiscent of how he and you would flirt and tease back when you first met, easy laughter always coming naturally to the two of you.  You smile gratefully at him and pretend not to notice when he steals two strawberries off the top of the cake while you go to get the candles.

---

“Hey, come look.”  Frankie calls to you softly from the kitchen doorway that leads to the living room.  Putting down the containers of leftover food you were trying to fit into the fridge, you wander over to be greeted by the sight of Raynor and Valentina completely passed out on the couch.

A smile comes over your face when you hear their peaceful snores and you whisper to Frankie, “Can I admit something to you?  It’s been ages since Raynor dropped his nap, but sometimes I really miss it.”

“Oh, I know.  Sometimes I want to say to Valentina that she might be willing to give up naps, but I never agreed to forgo MY nap.”  The two of you chuckle heartily. 

If it were Friday or Saturday, you would offer to let them sleep and then stay up for a late sleepover, but tomorrow is the start of the school week, “What do you say we let them sleep for… an hour?  Enough to burn off today’s sugar, but not too long to ruin bedtime?”

“Sounds good.  I can help you clean up.”

You try to protest, Frankie has already helped so much with the party today, “Oh!  Don’t feel like you need to at all!  You’ve already helped me so much today, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.  You really can just put on some TV or something.  Sit and relax, I’ll bring you a drink.”

Frankie cocks his eyebrow at you, and it takes you a minute to realize the humour in you offering to serve him a drink.

“No!  That’s not what I was… shut up!” you laugh, spinning to return to the kitchen with Frankie following, snickering.

The two of you in good moods start to do the dishes, you washing and him drying – him knowing where to put things away, having done this with you many times over the last several months.  It’s quiet and comfortable.  You hum to yourself a little, and while you seem content – the party having gone off without a hitch, Frankie can’t help but remember the sad look on your face from when he had come into the kitchen earlier to bring you food.  He could have sworn you had been crying.

“You had an okay day, Shortcake?”

You nod, “Just a little tired, maybe?  But it was so worth it.  The kids all had so much fun!”

It was just like you to put others before yourself, Frankie thinks; he finds it to be one of your sweetest traits, but wishes you would take care of yourself too.  Maybe let someone take care of you.  He tries to push down the plea from his heart that wishes he could be that someone.

He’d like to think he’s gotten rather good at reading you after all this time together and is sure that there’s something still bothering you.  While he dries the dishes, he thinks back to your conversation earlier; it had a been a long time coming and he’s glad the two of you finally ripped the band aid off the one topic you never seemed to talk about.  He didn’t know how heavily your opinion of the time you shared in the private room mattered to him until he heard you say that you looked back upon it fondly.  Upon him fondly.  That you hadn’t thought him a total creep.  He had felt a weight lifted off him immediately, and in truth, a little hope started to burrow into his heart that maybe that time had meant something to you the way it did him.  He suddenly recalls something you said that he remembers puzzling over, but hadn’t asked you about at the time.

“What did you mean earlier when you said you didn’t want how we met to ‘get in the way’?  Get in the way of what?  You said something I wanted.”

“Oh,” you look down, embarrassed at the tears that are starting to form at just the thought of Frankie dating, “I just meant… like you said, sometimes people get weird and judgmental about strip clubs… and if you were interested in someone… like that girl, Amanda?  I wouldn’t… I mean…”  You’re tripping over your words.  The last thing you want to talk about is Frankie being interested in someone else, the whole concept feels like a vice around your heart.  “… you shouldn’t be judged for something like how you and I met before they get a chance to know you.  You’re so sweet and respectful, and just kind and such a good father… but… I… any girl would be lucky to date you.  And I would never want to get in the way of that,” you finish lamely.

“Is that what you want, hermosa?” Frankie takes a step forward, causing you to look up.

There’s a look in Frankie’s eye that you haven’t seen before.  No, wait – that isn’t exactly true.  You’ve seen it before but on Francisco’s face.  It was the expression he had sometimes when you would just look at each other, no words exchanged – one filled with longing and desperation.

“You want me to date other girls?” he practically spits out the words, as if they don’t belong anywhere near his mouth.

You don’t know how to answer, except honestly. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say quietly.

Frankie looks at your fallen face and thinks he might have to walk back his earlier self assessment that he knows how to read you.  You seemed sad, disappointed – but why?  A big part of him just wants to comfort you and make you feel better, regardless of the cause of your unhappiness; but another part of him, the part where hope had been planted earlier and is starting to grow at a rapid pace, watered by the mere idea that you might care at all who he dated, has to know if you feel something for him.  His selfishness wins out and he decides to go for broke, “It matters to me what you want.”

Your eyes soften at this declaration, and the downturn of your mouth rights itself slightly into a quizzical ‘O’, but still you say nothing so Frankie presses on.

“It matters because I’ve thought about you every single day since I met you.  The whole summer, all I thought about your sweet laugh and the way you always smiled at me like what I was saying mattered to you.  And how those pretty eyes of yours would light up every time you said something you already knew was really funny and you were just waiting to see if I would catch on and laugh.  I thought about what it would be like to take you out, court you, treat you like you deserve.  Hold you without a time limit,” the look Frankie gives you at this confession is of both despair and relief, as a dam has broken and now nothing can stop his words from overflowing. 

“And since that first day of school when I found you again, I’ve only thought of you more.  I think of the way you’re so full of patience and compassion, and that your son is so kind and considerate because of you.  And that my daughter and I are so lucky to have you both in our lives.  I think about how Valentina told you once that she liked those cheese biscuits you made, and now every time you bring her a snack, there’s always at least one included.  I think about how you always take of others and how everyone around you is happier for being in your presence.  I think about how I want to take care of you too.  I think about how I used to think you were beautiful in that club, but now you blow me away time I see you at school, or in the park, or when we’re just hanging out with the kids.  I think the way you look in the kitchen on those mornings when it’s just you and me before the kids wake up is the most gorgeous a person has ever looked.  It makes me think about how much I wish I was waking up next to you instead of just meeting you in the kitchen.  I think about what it would be like to fall asleep holding you.  I think about making you feel good, the way you deserve to feel good.  I think about what it would be like to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”  You’ve never heard Frankie talk like this before and your breath hitches in your throat – this is everything and more that you’ve always dreamed of hearing him say; you’re afraid to interrupt, for fear he might say it’s a mistake and take it all back.

Frankie seems to collect himself, calming, “Did you know the night I went to the club and you were gone, I was going to ask you out?”  You shake your head, you didn’t know – you had harboured your own hopes, of course, that you and Francisco might see each other outside of the club, but the possibility seemed so slim and laughable, you had never even spoken them out loud.

“The guys finally hyped me enough to convince me you might say yes.  I wasn’t sure, you know?  I only saw you every two weeks, and I thought I was probably making more of our time together than it really was… it would have been perfectly within your rights if you were… just doing your job, you know?” Frankie is miserable at the thought.  In truth, he still harbours this insecurity – since the two of you have reconnected, you haven’t given him any indication that you had thought him as more than just some patron you had to entertain every two weeks.  Then again, the two of you never spoke of the time at the club at all; he had worried that this was a sent message in and of itself.  Moreover, you haven’t said anything since he started his confession and he’s starting to think he might just be humiliating himself and ruining your friendship at the same time.

You shake your head violently.  No, no, no.  This won’t do at all! You really don’t know how Frankie could have ever thought that, but then again, you had thought he was ashamed of your time together – you can’t let another minute go by without him knowing how you felt, how he made you feel, “No, please, Frankie – don’t ever think that please.  It wasn’t my job – I never went to the room with anyone but you.  I never wanted to go with anyone but you.  I only wanted you.  I looked forward to out time together and every two weeks never felt like enough.  You were so sweet and respectful, and you made me feel so perfect and desired, and so very cherished.  I wanted you more than you know, Frankie.  Everything that happened in that room, everything I said, everything we did – I loved it all.  It was real to me.”

“Yeah?”  Frankie’s feels hope he’s never felt before when he sees you smile and nod, “When you weren’t there, I was so confused.  You didn’t say goodbye, so I didn’t know if something had happened to you, or if you were sick, or… I don’t know.  Then I realized, you didn’t owe me a goodbye – I was just some guy whose lap you sat in…”

“Oh baby,” you reach out to touch his face.  Baby.  Frankie closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“I’m so sorry!  I wanted to leave you a message, but I… didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what was okay to ask from you.  Maybe I was just a girl who sat in your lap, you know?”

Eyes still closed, Frankie nuzzles deeper into your palm, “No, hermosa… you weren’t.  You’re so much more than that.  You’re everything to me.”

Tears now prick at the corners of your eyes for a much happier reason and you cup Frankie’s face fully in your hands and soothe him by scratching his scruff, hoping he’ll recall the affectionate gesture as you say sincerely, “I would have said yes.”

“Hmmm?” Frankie revels in the feel of your soft strokes on his face – this simple but loving gesture taking him back to the club when he had you to himself, when his want for you always simmered close to the surface but where he wasn’t allowed to let it boil over.  But he’s not at the club now.

Smiling wide, your heart bursts with joy and affection for this sweet man in front of you that you’ve wanted for so long - you never want him to be unsure of your feelings for him ever again, “I would have said yes, if you had asked me out.”

“Yeah?”  Finally allowing himself to believe that you return his affections, that you’ve always felt the same for him as he did you, Frankie opens his eyes and allows his grin to overtake his face.

He’s so cute and boyish when he smiles like this – you spy that cute dimple making its appearance again and you beam back, “Yeah.”

Happy emotions spilling over, Frankie breathes out the question that he’s wished to ask since the first night he laid eyes on you, “Can I touch you, Shortcake?”    

Voice husky and so full of need you’re practically vibrating, you nod with conviction, “Yes please, Francisco.”

Upon hearing his full name roll so sweetly off your tongue, the only name you ever called him back at the club, Frankie closes the remaining distance and is on you in an instant - lips crashing to yours with a force that nearly knocks you off your feet.  His hands immediately encircle your waist to catch you just as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him close. 

It’s another first kiss of sorts, this one needy and expressive and full of emotions previously thought unrequited.  You kiss Frankie like you can’t quite believe you are, part of you still can’t - by some miracle of a second chance, he’s here: Francisco is here and he’s real.  And he’s also Frankie, who knows you in the real world and still wants you.  The very thought makes you dizzy and you take off his worn cap so you can thread your fingers through his soft curls for something to ground yourself.

Your mouths clash and tangle, every brush of your lips is frenzied, desperate, greedy.  Frankie urges you to open your mouth to his and when you welcome him, he licks in, over and over, exploring and claiming every soft moan you emit as his own.  His tongue slides alongside yours reassuringly and lets itself be captured by your teeth; you teasingly tug and suck on the muscle before letting it invade your mouth once more. 

You’ve dreamt about your and Francisco’s first kiss a hundred times, but this, this first kiss with Frankie is something for the books.  He can touch you – his hands won’t stop touching you and it makes your entire body sing.  Frankie cradles you head in his big hands and lightly tugs your hair back so that you arch into to him.  Once he’s satisfied, his hands roam your back, stroking up and down your spine with that just right pressure that toes the line between relaxing and electrifying; you want to melt into his touch and let him caress you with this type of reverence everywhere.  Then when his hands wander down over the plush globes of your ass with feather light touches, you giggle from the ticklish feel only to dissolve into a puddle when he grabs fistfuls of your cheeks and kneads – his hands so big that the tips of his fingers nearly graze the core of you that’s already warm and clenching just from all this kissing.  And throughout all this touching, as if to make up for lost time, Frankie never stops kissing you.  He kisses you like he’s been starving for your touch, because he has – and now that he’s been given the go ahead to satiate his hunger, he positively devours you.  You think you might pass out from the way Frankie kisses.

As he continues to overwhelm your senses, Frankie slowly walks you backwards towards the dining table and helps you hop on top; without being asked, you spread your legs to accommodate his width as he presses himself against your centre; unable to help from grinding against him, you’re sure Frankie can feel how wet you are through your leggings.  You lean back, putting yourself on display and he takes the invitation readily, kissing down your neck sensually and teasing you slowly - a marked contrast from how greedy he’s been with your mouth.  First, he lets loose breathy groans by your ear right before lightly nibbling your earlobe and leaving you shivering.  Then, Frankie places fluttering kisses that alternate with the nuzzling from his strong nose below your ear; the subsequent transition to open mouth kisses, all nips and sucks, down your neck that ending in the laving of his tongue across your collar bones has you gasping for air.

Lightheaded and giddy, all you can do is take and whimper words of praise that have Frankie moaning against your skin:

“Oh god, Frankie, that feels so good.”

“Fuck, baby, right there… yes, oh god, right there.”

“Never stop, please.  Please, Francisco, I’ve wanted this for so long, I – OH!”

Frankie’s hands have found your chest, groping and palming – somehow managing to zero in on your nipples even through the layers of your shirt and lingerie.  He pinches and twists, tugs and rolls as you throw your head back and positively whine.  Chuckling into the sweet spot at the bottom of your neck, he murmurs, “Can’t wait to see you in some slutty lacy thing again, Shortcake.”

You’re practically bucking into him now - wet and throbbing, all the build up to this moment has the waves of your desire and arousal cresting shamefully quick; you’re starting to feel the telltale coil below your belly tighten when you realize with a start - “Frankie!  We can’t!  The children!”

Frankie looks like he wants to say something else as he pauses in his efforts, but he stops and presses his forehead to yours, panting, “Right, the children.”  And mutters something about how this might be worse than the no touching rule.

You giggle. 

Looking at you with a mixture of unadulterated joy and devotion, Frankie finally asks, months in the making, “Next weekend when Valentina’s at her mom’s, can I take you out, Shortcake?  Like a real date?  Dinner?”

Shyly, you nod, “It’s a date, Francisco.” And you press your lips hard to the giant grin that spreads across Frankie’s face, catching a glimpse of that dimple you love so much before closing your eyes and sighing in happiness.

---

*Bzzzz*Bzzzz*

“Hey Frankie!” Already laying into bed, you answer your phone - giddy when you see the caller ID.

“Hey Shortcake.”  You can hear Frankie’s smile.

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you too, baby.”

“Did everything go okay with bedtime?”

“Uhhhhhhhh….”

“Same here.  Valentina fought sleep like it was her job.”

“Raynor tried to bribe me with a ‘it’s my birthday’.”

“Little devils,” Frankie chuckles good naturedly, unable to hide his affection for your children.

“Totally.  We can’t ever let them gang up on us!  It would be the end, I fear.”

“Can’t be the end, baby.  It’s only the beginning for us.”

“I’m so excited for our date, Frankie.”

“Me, too hermosa.  I’m going to wine and dine you like you deserve.”

“What about the other thing you said you wanted to do, Francisco?” You’re feeling cheeky.

“The other thing?”

“Something about making me scream your name?”

Immediately, he’s stuttering, “Oh… fuck, sorry.  I- that was out of line.  I promise, I don’t expect anything like that…”

“Frankie.”

“I would never put any pressure on you for sex or for anythin-“

“Frankie.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you might like to make me scream your name right now?” Suddenly shy, you cover your face even though Frankie can’t see you.

His head spins, “Wh- oh, fuck.  Yes, baby.”

Your voice breathy and low, “You want to know what I’m wearing, Francisco?”

“More than anything.”

“I’m wearing that black lacy bra and panty set from the club,” you had put it on after getting ready for bed, inspired to set the mood for a solo session starring Frankie, but then he had called.

“The one from our last night together?”

“Mmmmhmmmm…. Do you remember, baby?”

Frankie groans, picturing you and the lace set so perfectly in his mind, “Remember? I can’t get the image out of my mind.  You know what it felt like to see you at school everyday in your pretty work clothes and know that underneath is the sexiest, hottest body I’ve ever seen?”

“Tell me what you liked about it, please.”

“So polite, baby.  Such a good girl.”

You actually whimper.  “Thank you, Frankie.”

“Love your pretty mouth, Shortcake.  And love how that pretty lace sits on those curves of yours.  Your ass bouncing just right, peeking out below the fabric.  Love how those gorgeous tits of yours look, ready to spill over the tops of your bra.”

“Ohhh… Frankie baby.  If we were back in that room and you could touch me, what would you do to me?”

“Holy shit, hermosa.  So many things…”

“Tell me, please.”

“First I’d ask you to dance and touch yourself like you did the last time, but over your bra.”

“Nghhh-huhhhh.”  You feel a warmth spread over your skin, remembering how sexy and desired Francisco always made you feel.

“Are you touching yourself right now, baby?”

Fingers tingling from just his voice, you run your hands over your breasts, softly rubbing and massaging, imagining your small hands are his. “Yes, Frankie.”

“Good girl, baby.  Feel those pretty tits for me, ‘kay?  I want you to grab them, be a little rough with them.”

“Oh god, yes…”

“How do they feel, hermosa?”

“The lace is smooth but the edges tickle my fingers.  My tits feel so soft and full, but Francisco, baby… they’re aching for you.”

“I’m right here, Shortcake. Hook those little fingers of yours in your bra and think about me pulling those lace cups down and playing with your pretty nipples when they pop out.”

“Please, yes… daddy.”  The honorific just falls from your mouth, wrapped around a soft moan that emanates from the very chest you’ve now uncovered.  Yes, he may be a dad, but right now, as you arch your tits up towards the ceiling towards his imagined touch, Frankie is also your daddy.

No one has ever called him that before, but fuck if Frankie’s dick didn’t just twitch.  “Oh fuck, baby… Daddy’s going to take real good care of you.”

“Feels so good… they’re so hard for you.”

“If I we were at the club, I’d roll them in between my fingers, pinching and pulling on them until you cried out, hermosa.”

You tug a little harder on your nipples at his words, before letting them drop, letting your breasts jiggle, “It hurts… but it hurts so good, daddy.”

“Let daddy kiss it better, Shortcake.  You’ll feel even better when I suck on your pretty tits, baby, don’t you think?”

“Ohhhh goddddd, yes please, daddy.  Want you sucking on my nipples and flicking them with your tongue.”

“Holy sh-.  Run your thumbs over them gently, ‘kay?  I wanna suck on those pretty peaks until you cry.  I still remember them from that night, so perky and pointy.  Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, Francisco.  I love being your pretty girl.”

“You are my pretty girl.  Tell me what my pretty girl wants now.”

“I wish you were here to touch me, baby.” Your voice comes out needy, bratty.

“Need your words, hermosa.  Where?  Tell me where you want my fingers and daddy will give you what you want.”

“My pussy, please.  I want you to touch my cunt, daddy.”

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you, baby.”

“I’m going to keep my lips and tongue on those gorgeous tits of yours and start to drag my hands down your sexy body.  Think I’ll take my time tickling your stomach and hips.”

“Then when you’re squirming and begging for more, that’s when I’ll dip my hand down the front of those lacy black panties.”

You follow the guidance of his words and goosebumps rise on your skin in the wake of everywhere you drag your fingers.  “Ohhhhh... baby.  You’re making feel so good.  I’m so wet, Francisco.”

“Want you to tell me, baby - are you touching that pussy the way you want to be touched?”

“Yes, daddy.  I’m petting my pussy so slow and gentle and I love it, but I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“I know, Shortcake, and I’m not going be.  Waited too long for this to be gentle.  Tell daddy how wet you are.”

“I’m so wet, daddy – I’ve soaked through these panties and I’m dripping out of my needy hole.” 

“Can you hear how I’m spreading it everywhere, even all over my swollen clit?”

“Holy fucking shit, Shortcake, the mouth on you.”

“I’m your dirty girl, Francisco.  My dirty mouth is all yours.  Wish I could take your cock in this mouth.”

“Jesus.  Baby, I’m supposed to be making you scream, not the other way around.  Slip a finger into that slutty little cunt for me, hermosa.”

“Ohhhh god yes, baby, I’m tight.  My pussy is hugging my finger so close.  Wish it was yours.”

“Oh, Shortcake, if you wanted it to be me, you would need to add a finger or two.”

You hiss at the stretch, “Gahhhhhhh – oh fuck, Frankie! It’s too much.”

“How many, baby?  How many did you add while you were thinking of my thick fingers?”

“Two more, daddy.  It’s too much, please.”  Whining now, you feel stuffed and full, the slight sting turning you on even more and a fresh wave of arousal coats your hand.

“No, don’t take them out.  Need you to stretch out your pretty hole for me.”  Frankie’s tone is dark and stern, and it makes you clench down on your slippery fingers.

“Uhhhh... Fuckkk.  Francisco, I can take it.  Please.” 

“Baby, your fingers are no match for this dick.  This dick is going to ruin you.” 

“I can feel my pussy gushing and dripping down my wrist.”

“If we were back in the club, I’d take your hand and lick those fingers until you were clean.”

“Frankie.  Mhhmmmhhhhmhhh.”  You make sure Frankie can hear you stuff you glistening fingers in your mouth and every single slurping and smacking noise you make as you lick them clean of your own juices.

“So fucking dirty.  Fuck, I’m so hard for you baby.  Need to get you ready so I can feed you my cock.  You want that, Shortcake?”

“Yes, oh yes please daddy.  All I ever wanted back in the club was to sink down on your thick cock.  Wanted you to fuck me till I was cock drunk and dumb.”

“I’ll give you everything you want, baby but we have to prep that greedy cunt of yours, okay?  If you want my cock, put three fingers back in baby.”

“So big, daddy.”  Sighing, you ease your wet fingers back in; the squelching sound of your fingers sliding through your slick makes you quiver with anticipation.

“Do you know now much I wanted to taste you when we were in the club?”

“Oh god, Francisco.  Please.”

“Wanted to run my tongue over that pussy of yours.  I knew it would be the prettiest pussy I ever saw.”

“Your pussy, baby.  This pussy is only yours.”  You sigh at the simple truth of your words as you work your fingers in and out of your cunt, pretending they’re Frankie’s.

“You still have my pussy stuffed full of your fingers, Shortcake?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.  Now use your other hand to rub your little clit and pretend it’s me stroking it with my tongue.”

“Uhhhhhhh, nghhhh, fuckkkkkkk, Frankie… your tongue feels so good against my slippery clit.  Are you touching yourself, baby?”

“Got my cock out the minute you told me you were wearing that same slutty lingerie you wore at the club, hermosa.”

“Did you like what I wore at the club, Francisco?”

“Hell yes, sweetheart.  Everything you wore made me so hard.  You made me so fucking hard.  Made me want to rip those skimpy outfits off of you with my teeth.”

“I wish you did.  Wish you were here to do that right now.”  You look down and see your tits, having spilled over the band of your bra, bouncing while both of your hands are stuffed in your panties, and you visualize looking down past your feet and seeing Frankie’s gaze upon you with his big dick in his meaty hand, “Stroke yourself for me, daddy.”

“Stroking my cock right now, imagining what it would feel like in your tight little pussy, Shortcake.”  His hands glide over his length, throbbing just from thinking about the way you’re stretching out your cunt so that you can take him.

“Wanna feel your thick cock in my pussy, Francisco.  Can’t wait for you to ruin me.”

“Going to wreck that little hole of yours, hermosa.”

“Need you so bad, daddy.  Can you hear how wet you’re making me?  I’m going to come so soon.”  The wet sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy fill your bedroom - an obscene percussive beat to the song of your moans and cries; your arousal leaking down your ass and making a mess of your sheets underneath.  Frankie can hear it all and your whorish symphony urges him thrust into his fist faster to keep up.

“Keep rubbing that clit for me, Shortcake.”

“Wish I could see you, baby.  Wish I could see what your pretty face looks like right now, imagining my fingers curling deep inside that sweet pussy.” 

“Can’t wait until you give me that dripping wet cunt and I show you what I want do to you.”

“Please!! Francisco.  I’m close!  Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“I’m going to lick your clit until it’s swollen and puffy then I’m going to suck and nibble it with my teeth until you push my head away.”

“Gonna pound into that pretty pussy until your walls are stretched and bruised.”

“You won’t be able to breath.  I’ll punch every breath out of your lungs.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you scream that this is my pussy.”

“My pussy.”

“To fuck.”

“To ruin.”

“To wreck so no other man will ever be able to fill you the way I do.”

“Fuck you the way that I do.”

“Fuck you stupid like I do.”

“Fuck you until you don’t know your own name.”

“Fuck you until you’re just a cock drunk slut who isn’t good for anything other cock.”

“My cock.”

“Frankieeee! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…. Frankie I’m coming…. I’m coming, daddy, I’m coming!”  You seize and cry out to his name, chanting it over and over like a prayer as your orgasm overtakes all your limbs and you arch off your bed, practically pushing out your fingers from how hard you’re clenching down.

“Ohhhh fuck, hermosa.”  Frankie’s grunts are followed by heavy panting, his uneven breaths as he comes down from his high like music to your ears.

“Daddy, I came so hard.”  You giggle as you wipe your cum covered fingers on your stomach.

“Me too, Shortcake.” You can hear him grinning through the receiver.

“Really?  I made you feel good, Frankie?”  You wish so much that he was next to you right now.

“Always, baby.  You always make me feel good.  The best.”

“Good.  You made me ruin my sheets.”

“And I made you scream my name.”

“Just like you promised.”

“I always keep my promises, Shortcake.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  I promise I’m always going to take care of you, baby. Never letting you go again.”

“Oh, Frankie… how did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one, hermosa.  My perfect woman, screaming my name while she comes.  I’m living in a dream, I swear.”

“I always come so hard when it’s you, Frankie.  But it’s never been like this.”

“Yeah?  You touch yourself to the thought of me a lot?”

“Yes, daddy.  Always you.”

“I think of you all the time too, hermosa.  Always make such a mess, just like I did tonight.”

“If we were together right now, I would clean you up with my tongue.”

“Fuck… baby, you’re going to make me hard again.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Francisco.”

“That’s what I’m going to make sure of, Shortcake.  You’re always going to have a good time with me.  Going to make sure you come every time.”

“I believe you, daddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.  The moment I met you in that club, I knew you would make me feel so good with your hands.  And your tongue.  And your cock.”

“Jesus... Baby, what did I say?  Don’t start what you can’t stop, because if you keep talking like that I’m going to be hard again really soon.”

“Well, I’m still sloppy and wet, daddy.  Ready to scream your name again.”

“You’re a dream, Shortcake.  I’m going to make sure you come harder than you ever have.  Tonight, tomorrow, every day after.”

“Promise, Francisco?”

“Promise.  And I don’t break my promises.”

“Ok, daddy.  Show me what you got.  Just remember, tomorrow is a school day, so we can’t be up too late.”

“I also don’t make promises I know I can’t keep, Shortcake.  Now be a good girl and take off those messy panties.”

Epilogue

Tagging a few people who commented on Part 1 they were interested in Part 2 (thank you! 🥹): @aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @pastelpinkflowerlife @southernbe @heareball

@mermaidxatxheart @nandan11 @mellymbee @jessthebaker @milla-frenchy

@littlemissoblivious @tuquoquebrute @inept-the-magnificent @posting-my-time

[warping-realities]

Bed and Breakfast (Repost)

"I can't believe you're gonna make me stay in a dump like that," said the gorgeous woman with an arrogant tone towards her boyfriend, not realizing the owner of the cozy little beach inn was eavesdropping.

"Babe, chill out, the place is actually pretty dope and seems super comfy. Plus, it’s got killer reviews on travel sites. We’ll be lucky if there’s even a spot for us here."

"We wouldn’t have to deal with this crap if you had booked a hotel ahead of time."

"Laura, sweetheart, you picked a trendy spot last minute during peak season; there’s no way we’d find a room, and yet you insisted on coming."

"Of course, all the big shots are here. What do you think my followers would say if I didn't show up? An influencer’s gotta stay on top of all the trends, Jeremy, and this is the hot spot right now—God only knows why," Laura shot back, making her boyfriend sigh before being interrupted by a cheerful and upbeat voice.

"Good evening! I’m Cintia, the owner of Cozy Cabin. Welcome! How can I help you?"

"Good evening, ma’am. I’m Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We’re looking for a place to crash."

"Oh no! I’m sorry, but we’re all booked up. Reservations have been closed for over two months; we’ve become super popular lately." The woman, who seemed to be of an age that was hard to pin down, responded. Though she showed signs of age, she had a vibe of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by genuine sadness at not being able to help. That turned into indignation and anger when the pretty blonde in front of her let out a dismissive giggle followed by a sharp jab at her fiancé. But before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly jumped in.

"Isn’t there even the slightest chance, Cintia? It would just be for one night so Laura can snap some pics and post them; she’s a digital influencer."

"Really? I’ve never heard of you, darling," Cintia said, taking the moment to get back at the rude young woman, who couldn’t help but fire back.

"I work with a younger crowd; it's understandable if someone your age doesn’t know me," Laura replied, making Jeremy cringe and a dangerous glint appear in Cintia’s eyes.

"Ah, trust me, I know how to spot a real influencer with clout. Right now, we’ve got Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, crashing here; it’s his fifth year visiting us during this time. Which gives me an awesome idea to help you out. If you’ll excuse me for a sec, I’ll be back with some info."

"Stupid hag," Laura muttered bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.

"Baby, you kinda poked the bear..."

"Don’t you dare take her side, Jeremy. How could she compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos?"

"Laura, watch your mouth. I’ve heard a lot about Miguel Ramos; he was a respected personal trainer before he blew up as a fitness influencer and has a solid follower base."

That was a huge understatement, and they both knew it. While Laura’s follower count hadn’t even hit the hundreds of thousands mark, Miguel’s had already smashed through the million barrier. And obviously, the vain woman didn’t like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to roast her fiancé.

"Jeremy, that scruff of yours looks awful! How many times have I told you to keep your face smooth? My followers prefer you to match my look!"

Jeremy didn’t know if that was true; Laura’s followers really did hype up how well they matched in appearance. But he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that Laura dressed him in similar styles to hers, combined with her nagging to keep his face smooth and his blond hair styled in neat curls, made them look so much alike that some people thought they were siblings instead of a couple. It was proof enough of a totally narcissistic nature, as the class bullies loved to shout. But every time those thoughts popped up, Jeremy quickly shoved them aside; he had long accepted that he’d be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a gym teacher to follow her, making sure all her wishes were met and canceling himself out in every way. Because he was dead sure he wasn’t worthy of her love and that no one in the world could love him like she did. It was exactly because he thought all this that when he saw Cintia return with a satisfied look on her face, he replied calmly.

"Yeah, babe, that’s the first thing I’ll do once we hit the room."

"My dears, I found a solution; it’s not perfect, but it should help for today," Cintia started with a playful grin and that spark in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that aren’t being used, and two of our guests have kindly offered those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days, Mrs. Goldschmitt will be heading home, and her room will be free if you want to extend your stay."

"You mean you want us to crash in separate rooms?" Laura asked, indignantly.

"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if that doesn’t work for you, feel free to scram and find somewhere else," Cintia replied with a frosty smile.

"No, no, that’s cool; we’ll take it!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more drama and losing the only place they found.

"Great! Follow me, then; I’ll have one of the staff take your bags to your respective rooms," Cintia said, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room. She knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with muscles that popped under a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile on his rugged, bearded face.

"Goodnight," he said simply, his voice oozing masculinity.

"Miguel, darling! These are Jeremy and Lau..."

"You don’t need to introduce me; I’m sure Miguel knows who I am," Laura interrupted while Miguel stared at her like she was some exotic creature that had just landed in front of him.

"Laura... apparently she’s a digital influencer," Cintia continued as if she hadn’t been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos, the guy we talked about earlier, who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."

"Thanks for the lovely intro, Cintia; it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Laura, and you too, Jer..." Miguel started, only to be cut off by Laura.

"I think our followers would love a collab from us."

"Um, sure, we can chat about that tomorrow, Laura. I believe you both are wiped out now, and Cintia still needs to take you to your room."

"Yeah, yeah, you’re right; we’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Shall we bounce then?" Laura wrapped up, talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who then stepped up to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night, love; sleep tight!" he said before entering the room and watching his fiancée being led away by Cintia.

.....

"Welcome, Jeremy; unfortunately, you’ll have to take the single bed."

"Thanks, Miguel; you didn’t have to do that or pretend to know Laura."

"Ahh, I’m sorry about that, but I thought it was better; I know how sensitive some influencers can be about not being recognized. I’ve never really cared about that, but I’ve seen some awkward situations, to say the least. And about the bed, it’s just a bed; I’m not really using it, and Cintia asked me for a favor; she’s a good friend and helped me out a lot when... anyway, you’re welcome here."

"Still, you didn’t have to do any of that; thanks a ton," Jeremy replied as he prepped to crash, thinking about what Miguel had left unsaid. It was no secret that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a big-time film actor, had been a massive bummer, so much so that he had stayed out of the spotlight for months until he was spotted on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in the place had exploded. The only news was that he wouldn’t be staying in some fancy hotel but in Cintia’s cozy little inn. Laura should be stoked, Jeremy thought before dozing off; she went looking for copper and apparently struck gold.

Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the guts to say something else.

"Miguel, seriously, thanks a bunch; I really appreciate your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura throws a fit about the sleeping arrangements... she’s used to getting her way, and... well... there might be some jealousy or something..."

"She doesn’t need to worry, Jeremy; I’m not into guys skinnier, smaller, and younger than me," Miguel joked, but it made Jeremy flinch.

"I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you."

"You didn’t offend me, Jeremy; I was just messing around. You can relax in the room; as far as I’m concerned, it’s as much yours as mine. Have a good night."

…..

The morning sun streamed into the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to roll over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, treated to a stunning sight: Miguel in just white underwear, his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall like he was lost in thought. At that moment, Jeremy felt something he never thought he would feel upon seeing another dude: a pang of desire, mixed with a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with seeing Laura’s naked beauty. His surprise was so intense that he moved abruptly, waking Miguel from his daydream.

"Good morning; sorry if I woke you; I forgot to close the curtains last night."

"No problem," Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.

"Anyway, I’m already heading out for my morning run before breakfast."

"Oh man, I miss doing that!" Jeremy commented.

"Do you do this too?"

"Yeah, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she’s not a morning person and gets all cranky when I wake her up early... anyway, I’ve been running on the treadmill while she shoots her videos at the gym."

"If you want to train with me..."

"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I’ll catch some more Z’s," Jeremy replied, still trying to hide his erection.

"Then I’ll see you later. Sweet dreams," said a fully dressed Miguel as he left the room, leaving Jeremy alone with his confusing thoughts.

…….

To say the trip had been a letdown for Laura would be a massive understatement. First, Jeremy couldn’t even make a simple reservation and had the nerve to blame her when he should’ve seen this coming. Then there was the beach itself; she had never liked the sun and sea, and just thinking about sand made her skin crawl. But unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos’ star-studded divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that, she had to deal with the arrogant old bat who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that gay dude, and the annoying roommate she was sure had been chosen by the old hag just to irritate her. And it was with a look reflecting her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiancé to show up for breakfast, which only made her angrier, since she wasn’t used to waiting and stubbornly refused to call him. After all, he should know his place and duties!

It was with that sour expression that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still-snoozing Jeremy. Seeing that expression made him seriously consider making a run for it from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn’t had a great first impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he checked out the kind of content she produced, with Jeremy looking more like an accessory to her outfit than an actual boyfriend, raising the suspicion that maybe the other guy was stuck in an abusive relationship like he himself had experienced until recently. But before he had time to bolt, their eyes locked, and a practiced smile crept onto her face, not quite reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game all too well, Miguel plastered on a smile just as fake as hers and approached her table.

"Good morning, Miguel; I hope Jeremy’s snoring wasn’t too much of a bother," Laura said, kicking off the conversation in the worst way possible and making Miguel’s smile fade.

"On the contrary, it didn’t bother me at all; Noah snored way worse," he replied, a look of irritation briefly crossing Laura’s face due to the comparison with her ex-husband. Wasn’t it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?

"You’re too kind, but it’s my fiancé you’re talking about; no one knows him like I do."

"Of course, and if you’ll let me say, checking out your posts on social media it’s clear to see all your influence on him," Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

"Thanks. It was hard work," Laura shot back without realizing the dig hidden in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we gonna do our collab?" she concluded.

"We’ll definitely figure something out," he replied in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that was never gonna happen. "If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment now. Maybe you should check on Jeremy; when I left the room, he was out cold. It seemed to me like he hadn’t slept that well in ages." He finished with a bright, genuine smile before exiting the room, leaving a fuming Laura behind.

Although Miguel’s statement was meant to poke at Laura, it wasn’t too far from the truth. Jeremy had slept like a baby and didn’t even stir when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up, he would’ve been mortified, because he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt in his sleep, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned with Miguel’s presence in the room, while his mind filled with one of the most different and vivid dreams he’d ever had. In the dream, he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not too different from the one the inn was on, and with the sun bathing his body, a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body. He couldn’t tell if it was Laura or not, because each kiss in the dream sent him into an ecstasy so intense that it overshadowed any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized the figure in his dream had shifted to a muscular, bearded man with his dark body glistening with sweat in the morning sun, just seconds before he was jolted awake by the indignant voice of his fiancée.

"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Jerkin’ off in that queer’s room? How disgusting!" Laura barked, her face twisted in outrage as she found her boyfriend in that compromising position. Jeremy, caught off guard, shot back without thinking.

"Never use that kind of word in my presence again, Laura; if there’s anything disgusting, it’s those expressions!"

"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disgusting, yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these faggots, but apparently, you’re already pretty used to it, huh? Jerk off in one of their bedrooms? And you didn’t even shave that gross beard. As if you just cut your hair without talking to me, I’m at my limit!" she fired back, causing all the layers of inhibition to come crashing down on a now more awake Jeremy.

"I’m sorry, babe; I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready, and we can have breakfast together," he said, falling back into his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.

"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don’t even need to come with me to the beach; I’ll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" she replied angrily, storming out of the room and leaving a confused and still groggy Jeremy behind.

He, in turn, stood up and stretched, losing his balance a bit as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that he had been this height since the start of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities he missed but couldn’t find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation for having given up pretty much all his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to shove those intrusive thoughts aside, he headed to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing it was pointless to look for his girlfriend while she was in that mood; poor Kayla, whoever she was, would have to put up with Laura that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six-pack abs on his torso, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After stepping out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror; for someone who could no longer stick to a strict workout routine, he looked pretty damn good; he was lean but built, and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by his golden curls.

Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to appreciate the boyfriend she had better, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura’s constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.

……..

Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs, and the sun’s rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned; it felt too good to let go. After wandering for a long time, he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be engulfed by it all, a wave of peace and completeness washing over him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, while his muscles expanded slightly, giving him the look of someone who worked out regularly and carefully. Lost in his own mind he found himself searching for Miguel Ramos' name on social media, and getting lost in the other man's posts.

And there he would have stayed without noticing the changes if he hadn’t been interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"

Looking up he came face to face with the target of his interested scrutiny in all his glory with a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve burned!" he replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.

"Still, the sun around here is way stronger than what you’re used to. Let me help you," Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don’t mind."

Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist that offer.

"No problem; I think you’re exaggerating, but Laura will be a total nightmare if I burn; she already hates my skin being so tanned."

"What nonsense; your skin is gorgeous; that tan pops real nice against your blonde hair; it gives you a healthy vibe, especially with those defined muscles."

"Thanks, dude; it’s nice to hear a compliment from... hummm," he groaned when he felt the other guy’s strong hands massaging his back.

"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.

"No... no... it’s just that the sunscreen was cold."

"Ah, I’m done. Just a little more down here," Miguel said, his hands moving toward Jeremy’s buttocks, making him tense up.

"Okay, do you want me to apply it on your front?"

"No, you don’t need to; I’ll handle that myself," Jeremy quickly responded, taking the sunscreen from Miguel’s hand without even thinking about those manly hands being so close to his cock.

"And where’s Laura? I thought you were helping with her content."

Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, like a cloud blocking out the morning sun.

"We had a blowout earlier... she did what she always does, said what she wanted, and bailed on me; I guess hoping I’d chase after her... but not this time... she can fend for herself with her new BFFO," he replied with a touch of bitterness that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

"Relationships can be a real pain sometimes."

"Ours isn’t, but I’m starting to think it’s just because I’m used to canceling myself out for her."

Miguel, who had already picked up on that, chose not to comment.

"Anyway, we should catch up later and sort this out; I still love her, of course, but some things are gonna have to change in our relationship."

"So how about we hit that run now, a little return to your old self?"

"Are you sure you’ll keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."

"Boy, show some respect; I’m not one of the most well-known personal trainers in the world for nothing."

"Then we’ll see!" Jeremy shot back, getting up and taking off running.

……

Laura trudged through the beach sand with disgust. Her morning, like the rest of the trip, had been a total drag. Kayla was pleasant company, sharing the same interests as her, though she was in a lower tier with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take pictures and film videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy’s fault, obviously. She still couldn’t believe her useless boyfriend hadn’t come looking for her, and even worse, it was her forced to hunt him down again in that damned sand for the second time that day.

With that feeling, she watched two muscular dudes running from the beach edge towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving in. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her book. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those guys, the tanned blonde with a pompadour and a faded side cut, sporting a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his muscular, sun-kissed body still glistening from the seawater.

"Hey babe, how was the morning?"

"Jeremy, how dare you leave me hanging like that! And that beard, you said you were gonna trim it! And your hair??? What the hell is this?"

"No hell, Laura. They look the way I like!"

"But not how my followers and I expected! You’re almost bald! That tan and those bulging muscles just don’t cut it!"

"Don’t blow it out of proportion, Laura; if I decide to shave all my hair, I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I choose to style my hair or beard."

"Of course, it has everything to do with it; you’re my boyfriend; you affect how people see me!"

"Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m good for, how I make others perceive you."

"And how would it be any different? I make a living off this; I’m an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to be on brand with me."

"I’m not your accessory, Laura."

"Well, babe, in the end, it’s like you are!"

"So I don’t know if I even wanna keep this relationship going," he replied, turning his back on a furious Laura.

"Jeremy! Don’t you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn’t look back and walked aimlessly toward the other side of the beach, under the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.

…..

Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes, trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn between the despair of losing the woman he thought he loved and the growing contempt for that same woman. How could he have canceled himself out for so long? How could he not see who she was? And at the same time, she had been his life for the past few years; how could he live without her? There’s no way he could do that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself for her forgiveness, he started sprinting. He only stopped when he heard the voice that made him start to associate with that strange feeling, a mix of desire and discomfort.

"Hey, Big Guy, what’s the rush?" asked a grinning Miguel, sitting on a bench at a beach bar.

"Sorry, Miguel; I need to find Laura!"

"And what’s the point in talking to her with your head all hot? Wait for you two to cool off."

"You don’t get it!"

"Ah, I get it. I get it so much that I’m gonna offer you the two things you need most right now: company and a few shots of tequila!"

"I don’t know, man..."

"Relax, dude, and follow me," Miguel said, grabbing Jeremy by the arms and leading him to a table at the bar.

…..

"I shouldn’t get in the middle of your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a messy divorce. And honestly, it took me a long time to realize I was in an abusive relationship," Miguel said to a downcast Jeremy.

"I’m not in a relationship like that; I love Laura," Jeremy replied, but with way less conviction than he wanted to show.

"And does she return that love? Does she love you the same way you love her?"

"Of course..."

"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don’t wanna be honest with someone you barely know."

"I want to believe that, but..."

"But you have doubts. Let me propose a game: I’m gonna ask you some questions about relationships, and for every positive answer from you and me, we’ll down a shot of tequila; I bet we’ll polish off a bottle in no time."

"First question: Have you ever felt like you were putting way more into this relationship than your partner?"

Both took a shot, and though neither noticed, Jeremy’s tan deepened, reaching a caramel shade very close to Miguel’s.

"Second question: Have you ever felt belittled by your partner?"

Another shot for both. And now Jeremy had shot up a few inches taller than Miguel.

"Third question: Have you ever felt like you’re nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that they don’t even see you as a person but as an object?"

Another shot. Another change. Jeremy’s muscles swelled, surpassing Miguel’s size and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half empty, but both men, who weren’t small, were already pretty tipsy, as that level of drinking wasn’t part of either of their habits.

"One more... one more..." a drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy’s vision. "Have you ever felt like you’re in this relationship out of fear... scared that you’re not good enough... that you can’t be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?"

Another shot, and Jeremy’s already blurry vision began to swirl as a wave of anxiety took hold of him for finally admitting those truths, even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense urge to get up and bolt, but when he did, he fell to the ground.

"Jeremy, Jeremy..." he heard the voice in the distance, that voice which stirred so many feelings within him. "Jeremy..." a voice that made him realize he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." the voice that made him tingle just hearing it. "Jav..." the voice of the man he was in love with but couldn’t admit.

"Javier, get up; is everything cool?"

And Javier stood up amidst laughter.

"It’s all good, Miguel; it takes way more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size," he replied with a grin, sitting back down at the table. At the same time, he ran his hands through his shiny black beard.

"Let me ask the question now," Javier said, beaming wider. "Do you think you’re ready to ditch this relationship and move on to better things?"

One more shot for both.

…..

Javier lay back on a couch of the exclusive rooftop bar Miguel that Miguel reserved just for the two of them, feeling his head spinning. While his roommate spent some not-so-productive time feeling the same way sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to toss his cookies, he felt his phone buzz. When he looked at the screen, he noticed there were tons of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better shape, he closed his eyes and thus didn’t see each of those messages and calls vanish from his records.

With his head still spinning, he slipped into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that slim, stunning blonde. In the dream, she lay down on him again and started kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman’s skin gave way to the rough sensation of a beard brushing against his body, and it was Miguel who kissed him, reigniting the flame of desire within him. While he slept, he moaned with excitement, a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel’s real mouth wrapped around his swollen cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being overtaken by the now familiar sensation of raw desire.

After hours of wild sex, Javier sat on the edge of the couch. with the strange feeling that he had forgotten something, as usual when this happened he found himself mentally going over his posing routine for his next competition.

Every fiber of his body had been honed with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his raven hair and finished the motion with his soft trimmed beard. He knew he’d have to shave it before the performance, but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the couch and smiled.

"A penny for your thoughts," said the smaller and younger man, but who had still earned the position of his coach and Javier’s heart.

"It’s no biggie, Mig; I was just checking myself out and thinking it’s a shame to shave; you like it so much..."

"Javi, I want you with or without a beard; I don’t care how you look; I care about being with you."

"So you mean if I were smaller and skinnier, you’d still be with me?"

"Maybe you wouldn’t have caught my eye right off the bat, but like I said, I care about the person you are; the man I fell for, and if he gains or loses weight, that’s not gonna change."

"Thanks, babe; that’s really nice to hear," Javier replied.

"You know what else is nice? Your posing routine, show it to me babe."

"You've seen it a hundred times, babe."

"What can I do if I can't get enough of watching my hot fiancé flex his muscles for me?" Miguel said with a mischievous smile, making a big smile spread across Javiers face, who even tried to pose seriously, crossing the covered area of ​​the lounge towards the balcony, but failing miserably and loving every second of it as he heard the whistles and flirtations of the passionate man he had chosen to have by his side.

……

The afternoon sun shone brighter than ever, but even that didn’t seem to brighten a sunburned Laura’s mood as she gossiped with Kayla at the beach bar while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talking.

"Is this a good time? They seem to be having a spat," Kayla asked her friend.

"Just because they’re serious doesn’t mean they’re fighting. If we consider their social media, they’re living the dream," Laura replied.

"You know as well as I do how misleading social media can be."

"Still, this is our chance to collab with them; it’s not every day we get to work with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the game."

"Smile; they’re looking this way!" said Kayla, making both of them flash identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up and headed toward the beach.

"There goes our shot," Laura grumbled.

"Don’t sweat it, girl; people like you always get what’s coming to them," said a smiling Cintia, who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and grinning.

A grin that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she took pride in, it was a job well done, and at her inn, that meant way more than just a bed and breakfast.

[cambion-companion]

"Hold Monster"

Based on this amazing post and artwork. I couldn't help but write something for our beloved INT 8 Tav from 1st POV since that's what I feel most comfortable writing.

Raphael x reader!Tav | Tav thinks the hold monster spell works in a very different way

You certainly hadn't intended to trip and fall into the portal, landing face-first on the polished marble floor of Raphael's entryway.

Your presence had been noticed immediately by Raphael who, upon recognizing you, wore a rather aggrieved expression. He set down his quill carefully and rose to full towering height, a slight twist of bemusement curling his lips. "Here I assumed you could go an hour without indulging in foolishness." He strode toward you and gripped you by the scruff like a wayward kitten. "You just caused me to lose a bet with Korilla."

"I really don't know how this happened!" You protested against his grasp as he dragged you back towards the portal. "I would've knocked if you had a door!"

Raphael released you with a slight push, his wings flexing as he glowered down at you. "Innocent or not, a trespass will be received as such."

"Ah! Raphael, it was an accident!" You began to panic as his eyes glowed a bright gold and flames began to dance upon the tips of his fingers. "Oh, not again." You groaned, wracking your brains for something to counter his retribution."

You withdrew a small amount of silver from your pocket and shrieked. "I cast hold monster!!" Then charged at the cambion head-on.

So surprised was he by your yell and sudden movement, Raphael couldn't react in time before you leapt upon him. You wrapped your arms and legs around his torso and hips, clinging to him like a rabid spider monkey.

The force with which you jumped him caught both of you off guard and Raphael toppled to the floor, his wings failing to catch his weight in time. You felt his grip pierce your sides as he stared up at you in utter shock for a moment. The spell had worked, it seemed.

You panted. "I don't want my bottom singed again like last time. That wasn't very nice."

Raphael grimaced, his face sharpening again as his surprise subsided. Emotions warred across his features. "You are a most confounding creature. If I believed you at all capable of rational thought, you'd be a pile of ash this very moment. Now...get off."

"Sorry, I can't." You shook your head sorrowfully. "The spell lasts a minute."

Raphael growled low in his throat, his wings stretching as he slowly got to his feet. You still clung to him, holding him tightly as you could.

With great care and powerful restraint, Raphael removed you from his person limb by limb.

"Wow, you're strong." You said with awe, panting a little from the exertion. Seeing the look on his face you backed slowly towards the portal. "Okay, I can see you're busy. I'll be going now."

"I should think so." Sparks of hellfire danced between Raphael's fingertips as he looked at you, his expression much like one who is considering how best to skin a deer.

Once you'd disappeared back to the material plane, Raphael grunted and looked around his immaculate manor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the infernal air. "For the crown."

[tkwrites]

An Infinite Kind of Love - A 300 follower celebration fic - Matthew Tkachuk x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: An Infinite Kind of Love

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Matthew Tkachuk x Sophie (ofc)

Warnings: Other than mentions of a not great biological father, it’s all fluff. 

Summary: Matthew and Sophie get married! 

Word count: 3,800

Comments: I hit 300 followers way back on July 12 and set up this poll to determine the fic I would write in celebration. We’d just passed the 4th of July, and I had a very specific idea for Matthew and Sophies wedding because of it. 

This fic has actually been finished for about 3 weeks, but I was worried people would be upset if I posted it before the latest Quinn and Sarah Snapshot went up. So, here it is. 

I hope you enjoy seeing Matthew and Sophie get married! If you did, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. I love hearing your thoughts about my writing!

Also we're just going to pretend the suit in this photo is navy because I couldn't find a photo of Matthew in a navy suit other than last years NHL Awards suit, which is not a suit for a wedding.

An Infinite Kind of Love

A Matthew and Sophie Fic

“Can someone get Matthew?” Sophie asked. 

“Of course.” Taryn darted out to run across the courtyard. 

When she got back to the suite, Matthew was running in after her. 

Gwen was naked to the waist and yelped. 

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Sorry! Sorry! Soph?”

She rushed to him, pulling him out onto the balcony. “It's safe,” she said, nudging his hand down. 

The late afternoon sun turned her into nothing more than a silhouette. He had to blink a few times before she came into focus. She'd changed from the short ivory colored dress she'd worn to brunch into a set of loose satin pajamas. Her hair was in rollers, and even with brows that looked too heavy without the rest of her makeup done, she still looked beautiful. 

“What's wrong?” he asked, his hands automatically going to her arms, rubbing up and down. He didn't think it would actually happen, but thoughts of her calling off the wedding had still weaseled their way into the back of his mind when Taryn raced into the groom's room telling him Sophie wanted to see him. 

“Nothings wrong,” she said, looking into his face. Despite only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, he looked fresh faced, and handsome. He and the boys had gone to the barber shop after brunch, and they'd done his hair so his curls were perfectly set and defined. It took all her willpower to not run her fingers through them. They’d also given him a straight edge shave, and she could tell how soft his cheeks would be without even touching them. 

She preferred a bit of scruff on him, but he'd insisted he'd rather be clean shaven, saying he didn't want to look like a Muppet on their wedding day.

“Plus,” he'd said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “don't want to give you any beard burn,” before rubbing her cheek with his stubbled jaw.

She’d laughed and told him she didn’t mind. 

“What's up?” he asked now, looking relieved. 

“I just wanted to see you,” she said, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his chest. 

As his arms enclosed around her, she felt his chuckle at the same time she heard it. 

“I missed you, too,” he said. With the rollers, he couldn’t tuck his face into her hair the way he liked to. He settled for resting his lips on her forehead. 

“For being our wedding day, we don't see very much of each other,” she said.

While they’d had a brunch with many of their wedding guests before coming to the ceremony venue to get ready, they’d slept apart the night before and spent much of the morning away from each other. Then, they were supposed to be apart until the first look and the ceremony. It felt incongruous. This was a celebration of their union. Shouldn't they be together?  

“I know. It's bullshit,” he whispered. 

“What aftershave did they use?” she asked. He smelled fresh like cut grass and mountain air. 

“I'm not sure. I picked it because I thought you'd like it.”

The simpleness of the act and of his thoughtfulness made her a little weak in the knees. “It smells really nice.”

Matthew closed his eyes, drinking in the feel of her body pressed to his, her breath on his neck and her nose in the soft spot under his jaw. Knowing that he'd picked right made pride swell in his chest.

“I'll ask them and get some,” he said. 

Pulling back, she leaned up to kiss him. 

It wasn't anything extravagant. It wasn't a kiss that made him break into a hot sweat or one that brought him to his knees. It was loving and soft. There was tongue, because with Sophie, there was always a little tongue. 

They kissed a few more times before she pulled away to find a look of adoration on his handsome face as he smiled down at her. 

Caught in the moment, they stayed that way for a few beats longer, just staring at each other until someone cleared their throat.

In the back of her mind, Sophie knew they were all in the room, but it was still a bit shocking when they looked over to find all her bridesmaids, both of their moms and the wedding photographer all gathered around the balcony door. 

“You guys are so cute,” Gwen gushed. 

There wasn't much about their wedding that was traditional. Instead of the usual noon, 2 or 5 o'clock ceremonies, their ceremony was set to begin at 8:30 so it would be dark enough by the time they kissed. They served a cocktail hour with food before the ceremony, at which the bridal party, minus the bride, mingled. After the vows, they were headed to a late-night reception with food trucks, cocktails, and partying. 

With 20 minutes to go before the ceremony, they all snuck off to a more secluded part of the garden. The groomsmen insisted they wanted to do a first look with Sophie. It turned into a whole thing: groomsmen along with Keith and her stepdad Greg. Then Matthew would come in and join them to get his own first look.

Sophie was hidden behind a trellis in another part of the garden with both of their moms and her bridesmaids. 

Her mom grabbed her hand to stop her from nervously pulling at her dress, and Sophie felt butterflies attack her stomach. 

Before the bridesmaids went out to join the guys, Taryn wrapped her in a tight hug. When they parted, she held Sophie at arms length to look her over. “Matthew’s gonna shit himself,” she said, tone full of a kind of teasing approval Sophie never experienced until she’d met Matthew. Their family teased, but mostly, it was all in good fun. It was rarely the kind of needling teasing she got from her dad as a child.

Once she’d tried it on for the first time, Sophie couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew seeing her in this dress. She’d had it custom-made, pieces of a few dresses stolen and sewn together to make exactly what she’d wanted. The bodice had a plunging neckline that narrowed between her breasts, so it wasn’t all that scandalous and floral embroidery that cascaded down onto the A-line skirt. It was simple and understated, just left of center enough to make it unique and just off white enough to be flattering. If the color were a little darker, it might be called blush.

She knew Matthew would love it because she loved it. That was just the kind of guy he was. But Taryn’s reaction still made her insides fizz like champagne. 

Upon a prompt from their wedding planner, Sophie walked out. 

The groomsmen were lined up, facing away from her.

They turned around when the photographer, who was standing off to the side with full view of everyones reactions, gave the signal.

As Sophie watched, a broad grin spread over every face. Greg and Keith both started crying, which she hadn’t expected. Keith pulled his glasses off so he could wipe his eyes. 

Greg rushed forward to gather her into a hug. His chest shook with sobs as he whispered, “thank you for letting me be here.”

“You’re the best dad, Greg. I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“Matthew’s one lucky son of a bitch,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’m so proud of you.” 

She hugged him again, squeezing extra tight. 

Her brother followed. “You're so pretty, Soph,” he said.  

“You look really handsome in your suit,” she said, wiping at her own tears that had finally spilled over. 

He worked his thumbs under his suspenders and puffed out his chest. 

Their laughter was loud and raucous as she struck a pose of her own. 

When it was his turn, Keith gathered her into his barrel chest and lifted her off the ground in a bear hug.

She let out a surprised little squeak and giggled as her feet kicked out behind her.

“I don’t know —” Keith had to stop to wipe his eyes again after he set her back down, “I don’t know what Matthew did to get on your good side, but I’m sure glad he did.” 

“You raised a good man,” she said, patting him on the chest as they parted, “that’s what he did.” 

He gave her a watery smile and went back to Chantal and Taryn, slinging an arm around each of them.

“Matthew’s gonna lose his mind,” Sam whispered in her ear as they hugged.

She giggled, hoping he was right. 

And finally (finally, finally!), Matthew was walking down the garden path next to Brady, looking as nervous and excited as she felt and so handsome in his navy blue suit. He had his Louis Vuitton belt on. Even though she thought it was a little distracting to wear to a wedding, he insisted it was his signature piece and couldn’t go without it. She found an indulgent smile on her face, glad he was wearing something he loved so much. At least she’d convinced him to wear real dress shoes and not those ridiculous mules he’d been sporting to the arena all season. 

Sophie came into view, and all at once, Matthew felt tears sting his eyes. He’d known he would cry. He knew there was no hope of stopping it. He loved her so much, and this whole day had him all discombobulated. This wasn’t even the first time he’d cried, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. 

After today, he would be her husband. Her husband. He would be her husband, and she would be his wife.  And —

She was wearing the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. Simple and elegant and completely Sophie. A strong pang of longing, love, and nostalgia pulled through him when he realized her lips were even painted the same pink they had been on their first date. 

She was perfect.

“Oh my god,” he said, awestruck as they joined the group. 

She knew he would probably do that no matter what she was wearing, but it still felt good. 

Brady stepped forward and gathered her into a hug. “You look beautiful, Soph,” he said before going to stand with Emma, wiping a few tears from his eyes as he leaned down to whisper to her about how much this reminded him of their own wedding. 

Finally standing in front of her, Matthew was at a loss for words. Eventually, he just said the thing that kept running through his mind. “Holy Shit.”

Everyone around them laughed. 

Matthew continued to stare silently as everyone else headed back to start ushering the guests into the ceremony seats. 

“I don’t…” he paused, trying to articulate the words. He wasn’t sure there were words for what he was feeling. “Fuck.” 

She burst into laughter. “Is that good? Or bad?” 

“Good,” he said, half of his mouth tipping up in a smile. “You’re –” he blinked a few times, “you’re so pretty, Sophie.”

Heat flushed into her cheeks. “Thank you. I think you look really handsome.” 

“You don’t mind the belt?” he asked, tone and eyes teasing as he hooked his thumbs behind it. 

“Nope,” she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said into her hair, getting a mouth full of hairspray. He turned to lay his cheek against it instead. 

“I can’t believe it’s finally here.” 

“I know,” she whispered. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket at the same time he saw her mom walking down the path that led from the ceremony. 

“It’s time for me to go,” he whispered. 

Tightening her arms around him, she resisted nuzzling into his shirt, knowing she’d get makeup all over the starched white material. 

“I’ll see you in a minute,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 

He dipped down to drop a quick kiss to her lips. “See you in a minute, my betrothed.”

He’d started calling her that after some venue asked him if he and “his betrothed” would be attending a catering tasting together. 

“Soon not to be,” she said with a wink. 

He laughed, stole another quick kiss, and hugged her mom before jogging to meet Brady, who was waiting at the end of the path. 

Sophie asked her mom to walk her down the aisle. She thought the idea of a man giving a woman away was archaic anyway, but especially after her dad left, she vowed never to have a man walk her down the aisle at her wedding. 

So when the music started to play for their bridal party, an instrumental version of Here Comes the Sun — requested by Matthew because he called Sophie his ray of sunshine and they were heralding her entrance — she and her mom walked to the end of the pathway that was serving as their aisle. 

Everything looked beautiful. Matthew was standing with their officiant — someone he grew up with who was now a pastor — under a large trellis, covered in a vine of blooming jasmine. The small white flowers (another reason her dress couldn’t be white) stood out against the mens dark suits and the lilac of the bridesmaids' dresses. Everything was bathed in the gentle golden glow of the candles, lanterns, and fairy lights strewn throughout the garden. It was like walking into a dream.

The song she would walk down the aisle to began, it’s jazzy, guitar playing softly from the speakers hidden around their guests. 

The officiant instructed everyone to stand, and they did, turning to look at her, as she and her mom stopped at the end of the sidewalk. 

While everyone looked at her, she looked at Matthew. Watching his smile and his breathless excitement as she made her way to him. He was even bouncing on the balls of his feet. Her own heart ticked in her ears, and she concentrated on the song lyrics in an effort to keep herself from running to him. 

When we were strangers I watched you from afar When we were lovers I loved you with all my heart But now it's getting late And the moon is climbing high I wanna celebrate See it shining in your eyes Because I'm still in love with you I wanna see you dance again Because I'm still in love with you On this harvest moon

Watching Sophie walk down the aisle, her lips painted the same color pink they were on their first date, it felt a little like watching her walk through their history. He was outrageously glad to be on this side of it, having won her trust and love and finding himself in a situation where he had the chance to be with her forever. 

Her mom hugged her and went to sit with Greg. 

Sophie took the last three steps to stand in front of Matthew by herself. She was ready to take this last leap, eager to no longer do this life on her own.

The officiant invited everyone to sit and began talking about matrimony. She missed most of the speech, too busy thinking about the vows she’d written and watching Matthew. The navy suit made his eyes a deeper shade of blue than usual. 

Finally, after what felt to Matthew like forty minutes, though it couldn’t have been more than five, they were invited to read the vows they’d written. 

“When we agreed to write our own vows, I made Soph promise to let me go first so I didn’t have the pressure of trying to follow her.”

Sophie and the crowd laughed. Matthew noticed his mom wipe a tear from her cheek. His dad put an arm around her. 

Taking in a deep breath, Matthew closed his eyes for a moment before looking back to the printed piece of paper Brady had handed him. 

“Sophie,” he began. His voice wobbled a little. The way she was looking at him made him feel light-headed. The culmination of the day coming together and seeing her looking so beautiful in her dress was too much. Truth be told, he was a bit shocked he was even still standing. 

She took his free hand, and the grounding in her touch centered his breathing.

He looked at her and began again.  

“Sophie, if I tried to articulate all the ways I love you, I’m pretty sure we’d be here for several days because I don’t think I could ever find the right words.” 

The audience awed. 

“So instead of that, I wrote down some of the things I love about you, and what I’ll try to be for you, and you’ll just have to put up with the words I’ve got.” 

She snorted, and he heard Brady laugh behind him. 

“So here goes. I love that you make me quiet.” 

Tears pressed behind her eyes. She hadn’t expected him to go for the jugular right off the bat. 

“Most people know I have a pretty hard time shutting up,” he paused, listening to his dad laugh, “but you taught me the value in quiet moments, and I love that I fell in love with you in them. I love that I get a side of you no one else does, and I love that you trust me enough to show it to me.” 

A few tears leaked out and slid down her cheeks. Gwen slipped a tissue into her hand, and Sophie smiled gratefully, pressing it to her lashes to stop her mascara from running.

“I love that you love my family and that I feel like I could be with you forever, and we would never get bored. I love that we’ve created our own little ecosystem and that it thrives because we’re both invested and working on it.” 

His mom was crying into a handkerchief.  

“I can’t promise that I’ll always be this good looking.” 

The suddenness of the joke made Sophie bark out a sudden laugh, much too loud over the amplification system. Her hand slapped over her mouth to quiet the sound, and he laughed indulgently, as if that was the exact reaction he’d been going for. 

“But what I can promise is this: that I’ll always try to protect you, except when it comes to spiders.” He paused for the laughter to die down, “That I’ll always do my best to be present when I’m home, and that I’ll always listen to and help you achieve your dreams. Most of all, I promise that I won’t ever stop trying to earn and deserve your trust and love.”

He folded the paper up. His mom was crying, as was Emma. He was pretty certain Taryn would be tearing up, too, but he couldn’t see her with the way the bridal party was standing. He wanted to end it in some fancy way like he knew she would, but he didn’t know how, other than to say, “I love you and I can’t wait to start this new chapter with you.”

Sophie wiped her nose and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. “I love you, too.”

She sniffed and swallowed, trying to get her bearings.

“Matthew always tries to tell me he isn’t good with words,” Sophie said, giving him a wry look as her fingers squeezed around his, “but I think you all can be the judge of that.” 

He laughed. 

She coughed gently to get some of the tears out of her voice. “When I started writing my vows, I couldn’t think of anything but love. I’ve been trying to understand it my whole life. When I was a kid, I thought I had to parcel out my love to make sure it didn’t run out, and other people had to do the same. Matthew, although you didn’t teach me that there’s an infinite amount of love in the world, you did prove that infinite love exists in a way I had never experienced before with a man.” 

Now he was crying. 

“I’ve always felt a little on my own,” she explained, “a little too quirky to be loved in that big infinite way.” 

The audience was listening, wrapt. This was exactly why he didn’t want to go after her. Not only would he be a mess, there would be no way he could possibly follow her words.

“The last thing I expected in life was for this muscle-bound, curly-haired, rough and tumble hockey player to not only understand my quirks but to embrace and encourage them.” Her voice trembled. “I’m forever grateful I can take down my walls with you, Matthew.”

He took the tissue Brady handed him, unashamed, and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“And for your patience and consistency, even when I can be skittish and uptight.” She paused, listening to her half of the audience twitter.

“I promise I’ll kill the spiders,” she said, and he laughed along with the rest of their guests. “And I promise to never be unreasonably jealous of your job. But most of all, I promise to always be honest and to love you in the infinite way you showed me was possible.” 

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to lean in and just lay one on her. Tradition be damned. He pressed his mouth to hers, mumbling how much he loved her against her lips. When he pulled back, her eyes told him how much she loved him in return.

The officiant led them through the traditional “til death do us part” stuff, and they exchanged rings. It was a strange thing to feel the weight of the band on his finger, but Matthew had never been so glad to have something tying him down. It felt like he might just float away without it. 

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said with a wide smile. 

Matthew’s hand slipped up to cradle her jaw, and he looked into her eyes as the fingers on her left hand tapped out five beats on the back of his arm. 

And just like they rehearsed, just like they planned, just like Ryan said it would happen, the moment their lips touched, fireworks screeched to life behind them, screaming into the sky and exploding in a fan of sparks and color and sound. 

It was perfect. 

It was this video, first showing their faces as they looked adoringly at each other and then cutting back to catch the fireworks igniting the moment they kissed, that Matthew shared on his Instagram. 

It’s been fireworks from the first kiss, and we’re still going strong. 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[lmanburgseulogy]

C!WILBUR INSANE POSTING. guess what. It’s actually about revival arc 😎 wahhoo

Sorry if it’s unorganized i’m too lazy to read it back 💯 plus probably none of you have the attention span to read this /j

LONG LONG POST UNDER CUT!

Brown mop of curls that are frizzy and uncared for, white streaks contrasting the rest. They stick out no matter how much he tries to hide them. When he gets so stressed he tugs at his hair, he notices that its gotten longer since when he actually tried to keep up with it. It wraps around the curves of his ears and turns upwards at the scruff of his neck.

There’s a deep wrinkle between his eyebrows, a reminding mark of a general with a heavy expression going into battle.

His eyes look unfocused over cracked glasses, it always seems like he’s not fully in the moment. Maybe he isn’t, not anymore. His gaze only settles on the ways everyone has changed, when he’s the same person who stood at that button. His absent stare contradicts the heavy smile lines gained years ago. He can’t remember the last time his smile reached that high. Feels awfully forced these days, even when he is happiest. He knows he doesn’t deserve it.

Wilbur struggles with bright lights after being in the dark so long in limbo. His head is always throbbing, and by noon it feels like a very tiny man is pushing his eyes right out from behind. Sometimes he gets too overstimulated and can’t think or stand straight. Tommy worried about him, but he can handle himself.

He has permanent eye bags from decades of sleepless nights. When he puts himself on the stage to be perceived by other’s judgmental stares he lathers thick foundation over the darkest parts. he knows they would notice if he covered all of it. They notice every little detail.

Wilbur’s nose is crooked and hooked at the end. A bump holds his glasses in place where freckles spot his skin. He loves the sunrise, he likes the marks it leaves for him. Maybe the light is finally reclaiming him.

His chin is covered in scratchy stubble. It’s thick and itchy, but his hands are to shaky to shave anymore. He learned that the hard way. He could get someone to do it for him, but who would? People always attack him in the small, minor inconveniences. They seem to hit wilbur harder than anyone else.

His Adam’s apple is very prominent. He gets it from his father.

Two white scars cross down his chest, making an “X.” They are surrounded by dark, unruly burns. When he gets the motivation to change his clothes, he thinks about a fallen country’s flag, which looks very similar to his own body. A part of him hates it, a part of him knows there was a time he would live the flag with pride. He almost hates that more. Sometimes he feels like all he is is the day he got those scars, since that’s all they see him for. He tries not to think about it. Never turns out well when he falls in the pit that is his mind.

*weight mentioned ahead, implied starving as a form of self harm

Wilbur often squishes the fat on his arms and stomach. He doesn’t remember a time where his belly or thighs were this soft, only his ribs casting jagged shadows down his front or his skin wrapped tightly over his bones. It didn’t take long for him to get tired of the potatoes in Pogtopia. Or, that’s what he told everyone when they gave him that look. Pity, he knew it to be. He didn’t need to be pitied, not when this is what they want him to be. A man falling apart, another dog in the ring.

Wilbur thought it was odd, his new shape and stretch marks. He didn’t really hate it though. He is almost comfortable in himself, even when most of his meals were barely choked down. Phil likes to reassure him the healing continues, and he knows his dad isn’t a liar of course, but Wilbur tends to spill his uncontrollable emotion into every good thing. It’s whatever.

Wilbur has lumbar scoliosis, so right before his hips his spine curves into a “C.”

He remembers his mother talking to Phil after his exam for it. Her voice was wound up tight, ranting to phil about how he might be paralyzed when he got older. He can’t remember his mother much, yet that memory is clear as day. He would love to tell her he’s moving about just fine, except for the constant pain. Tommy says it’s normal though. (yes lets ask tommy for medical advice. sure king)

Scars litter his body, all around. Some big, some small. Some major injuries like The Final Control Room, and some are minor losses not even worth noticing during battle. A lot he doesn’t remember. Which might be for the better.

His fingernails are short and chipped. He expects it to be from clawing at the walls in limbo, the scraping sound makes him shiver to think of.

When Wilbur hits his head on doorframes he remembers family photos of him sticking out like a sore thumb in the line. He had his growth spurt early, and got a little too tall for his liking. Techno joked he was 1/4 torso 3/4 leg. Easy to intimidate people though!

Wilbur’s bones ache a lot. They’re old things, he thinks when he hears the pop of his knees. Sometimes the aching gets so bad he can only sit, which is embarrasing when he has to plop down on the prime path while Tommy gives him the worry look again. One time Eret found him catching his breath by the museum, boy he hated that. He remembered the last time they saw each other, when he apologized. Kind of awkward. He wished he could run away, like during L’manburg. A slight smile on his face when the breeze swept his hair back, legs moving in rhythm against the ground. He’s pathetic now, not even able to walk away if he tried. Potions never numb it as much as he hopes.

[leclerc-s]

track 002. la del insta

─── ❝ todo comienza y se termina ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

NOVEMBER 2022

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, isabellaperez and others

redbullracing i have been told that my previous caption was not appropriate, so here's a boring pr one scripted by salty spice himself, daniel ricciardo returns to red bull as our reserve driver. it's wonderful to have you back daniel.

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📍isabellaperez alternate caption was the honey badger is back mother fuckers!! read it and weep!!

user43 i love red bull's admin and their chaos. wonder where christian horner found them.

↳ redbullracing he found me on the streets of monaco and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and told me he had a job for me. who was i to deny salty spice?

↳ danielricciardo you would love her less if you had to see her everday.

↳ maxverstappen1 at least you got a break for a while, i've been suffering for four years

↳ estebanocon you two have it easy, i've been suffering since 2016.

↳ schecoperez i've been told to say that i've been suffering for 19 years.

↳ isabellaperez fuck you guys (except tio checo. i love you)

↳ alexalbon don't worry isa, you're my favorite red bull admin

↳ isabellaperez thank you lily's boyfriend! you're my favorite williams driver!

user07 red bull admin is checo's niece?? plot twist. honestly though, i love her.

christianhorner this is not the caption we talked about isabella.

↳ redbullracing i would say sorry but we both know it's going to happen again. it's been happening for over 4 years.

user92 she's been apart of the team longer than checo? it's kind of iconic. but why red bull and not aston martin when checo was racing with them at the time?

↳ isabellaperez aston martin didn't have a position open and red bull did. it also allowed me to travel with my uncle which i've been doing since 2011, i was only going to stop because the fia demanded it due to covid.

user59 so do you live in monaco or mexico with checo?

↳ isabellaperez used to live in LA but the influencer life was not for me (check out my youtube channel) then i was convinced by my sister and arthur to move to monaco. i travel to mexico all the time, i have to see my mami of course!

BAHRAIN 2023

the youngest mclaren driver stood off to the side, nervous for his first ever formula one grand prix. his teammate seemed less nervous, but still nervous to a certain degree. oscar truly didn't want to fuck this up, not after everything that happened in the last 6 months for him. he noticed a brunette girl staring at him from across the pitlane, she gave him a small wave before turning to go back inside the redbull garage.

the younger brunette turned to look at the slightly older one, "who was that?"

the older one turned to look at him, “you don’t stand a chance. she's checo's niece, very overprotective that man is. not excluding you know, max and daniel. take it from me, i've tried.” 

“i asked who she was not if you tried to get her number.” 

“oh, i have her number, but i have a girlfriend, you pastry. matter of fact," lando said, "you have her number too."

“it’s piastri! you know this!” oscar shouted as lando skipped, literally skipped, away from him. oscar rolled his eyes at the older drivers actions before turning to go back inside the mclaren garage.

the brunette girl stood outside the redbull garage again, with daniel ricciardo at her side. she turned to look at the empty spot oscar had once been in, then back at daniel, “can't believe i still think he's cute. he's the enemy.” 

daniel laughed, "he's not the enemy isa. you're allowed to have a crush on someone." 

isabella rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair, “i hope him the best at shit-claren.” 

“isa!” 

the girl laughed, “it’s true!” 

redbullracing posted a new story

alexa, play the boys are back from hsm2!!! welcome home honey badger!! we've missed you!! (salty spice told me no more cursing on official red bull posts)

liked by austinriley, maejones, redbullracing and others

isabellaperez we're back people!! bahrain 2023, praying for a better result than last year. please f1 gods, don’t give us a double dnf. (but at least ferrari had a 1-2!)

tagged: redbullracing

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danieljricciardo i know you aren’t liking your posts from the official redbull racing account

↳ isabellaperez what good is it running the red bull account if i can’t like my own posts?

user82 paddock princess is back people!!

↳ isabellaperez am i royalty like charles? people’s prince and poddack princess?

↳ charles_leclerc you wish you were as cool as me

↳ isabellaperez at least i don’t wear questionable pants.

↳ georgerussell63 she got you there buddy

user75 isabella running the red bull racing account but still being a tifosi will always be hilarious to me

↳ isabellaperez corporate espionage at it's finest (i'm kidding christian, please don't fire me)

logansargeant is it considered treason if i follow you?

↳ isabellaperez idk let’s ask alex_albon, is it treason?

↳ alex_albon he’s in the groupchat? how is this treason?

↳ logansargeant good to know

logansargeant and oscarpiastri started following you

redbullracing posted a new story!

1-2 in bahrain! what a way to begin the season! congrats maxverstappen1 and schecoperez (i’ve been told by helmut that i need to be more ‘professional’ whatever that means)

duckling to get over my crush on oscar i’ve decided to ask arthur for ollie’s number.

super max oh for fucks sake, don’t do that

duckling maybe i should text austin then.

honey badger DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!

honey badger i will fucking confiscate your phone isabella estrella perez

duckling i don’t have a middle name. my sister does, it’s maria. honey badger i could not give less of a fuck. don’t you dare do such a thing.

super max I WILL CALL SEBASTIAN ISABELLA PEREZ!!

duckling don't threaten me with sebastian, max! that will do nothing!

super max added one person

honey badger had changed the group name to 'redbull's four musketeers'

paddock dad do i want to know?

super max ISABELLA WANTS TO TALK TO AUSTIN! TELL HER IT'S A BAD IDEA! duckling fuck you, you stupid maxi-pad

paddock dad isa, why would you do that?

honey badger SHE HAS A CRUSH ON OSCAR AND IS AFRAID OF LOVE! duckling i am not afraid of love. i’m afraid of falling in love, two very different things daniel super max yet another thing austin ruined for you. love along with getting a pet. paddock dad how the hell did he ruin getting a pet for her? honey badger honestly don’t remember but i think it was something along the lines of how his cousin had one and it got killed by a car. duckling i still want a dog he didn’t completely ruin that. paddock dad never let a man ruin anything for you or so my wife says

super max you might want to mute this chat seb, it was created to help isabella over any and all problems, small or big.

duckling okay fuck you verstappen

super max no thanks. i have a girlfriend. honey badger we're aware. we've heard nonsense super max do you really want to go there ricciardo? your wife wrote a song about only buying a dress so you could take it off honey badger DO YOU LIKE MAKING HER EYES ROLL VERSTAPPEN? DO YOU?

isabella had been so focused on her phone and texting back the others that she didn’t notice the person coming at her. she crashed into the person and her phone fell to the floor, landing with a loud crack. at least the crack sounded loud to her, but not louder than the ‘mierda’ she let out. she bent down to pick up her phone and so did the person she had bumped into, both reached for her phone, bumping heads.

“fuck,” isabella softly whispered, “you have a hard head,” she told the other person as she rubbed her head.

the person laughed, “guess that’s a good thing for an f1 driver.”

isabella’s eyes slightly widened when she realized who she had bumped into. she would recognize an australian accent anywhere, she had grown up near daniel ricciardo. oscar piastri was too busy inspecting her phone for any cracks to notice the expression she had made. he handed her the phone as both stood to their full heights, he was noticeably taller than her.

"no cracks," oscar told her as he handed back her phone. she smiled politely at him, "thanks."

"and your friends are blowing up your phone. i think you had like 10 messages come in while i was checking to see if it had any cracks. not that i read them-"

isabella waved him off, "it's just max and danny, they were arguing about who had the horniest songs written about them."

oscar laughed, "i'm oscar piastri."

"i know, i'm isabella perez" she replied, "i saw your alpine tweet, plus arthur talks about you a lot."

"i know," oscar replied, "arthur leclerc? you two know each other?" he questioned as they began walking together. isabella didn't know where he had originally been heading but now the two were walking back to their hotels.

"he's dating my sister, dulce? you might know her."

"oh, you're isa. i always wondered why they called you isa and not bella."

"because i will stab anyone who calls me bella," isabella emptily threatened. too enthralled on her phone she failed to notice the small smile on oscar's face.

"okay, bella."

isabella quickly looked up, glaring at him, "i'm glad you dnf'd."

"ouch," oscar dramatically muttered, "you wound me bella."

the two were interrupted by a voice shouting for oscar. they turned around and were met with the sight of alex albon and logan sargeant, both williams drivers also walking back to their hotel.

"alabono!" isabella shouted, rushing to hug the bleached-blonde. the taller driver opened his arms and accepted the hug, "hi, isa. did you have a good day?"

"no, charles dnf'd, so the ferrari in me is crying. however, the redbull in me is screaming for joy."

before alex could reply a ding interrupted him and caused isabella to look down at her phone. her eyes widened, and she handed her phone over to alex, "can you give this to max or danny later? i'm catching a flight on air-max later tomorrow."

alex nodded, "see you in glendale. or sooner."

"bye alex, bye logan, bye piastri!" isabella shouted as she ran off. logan looked confused between isabella's phone and alex, "why'd she give you her phone?"

the phone dinged again and alex sighed as he switched the phone to silent, "it's quite the story, one that either isa or dulce should tell you, not me."

"okay," logan said, he turned to oscar, "why'd she call you piastri?"

"oh, i called her bella," oscar replied, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. alex's eyes widned and logan knew their was a story there but he didn't pry. he wasn't close to any of the other drivers besides oscar, so he wasn't going to ask. he could be nosy sometimes but even he knew his limits. alex didn't want to talk about isabella's phone so maybe the phone had something to do with calling her bella.

"surprised you're still standing," alex said, "last time someone called her bella she kicked him in the nuts, and they had just met. he stopped calling her bella after that."

the two rookies exchanged looks as alex pocketed isabella's phone and pulled out his own phone and began to type furiously on it. logan's phone dinged moment's later but he ignored it, not wanting to make oscar suspicious. however, when his phone kept dinging oscar turned to him curiously and logan waved him off, silencing his phone.

"just friends from home, they were planing a party," logan quickly lied. oscar shrugged him off and logan was quick to divert the conversation to a random topic.

alex albon OSCAR CALLED HER BELLA AND HE'S STILL STANDING. NO BALLS WERE KICKED!!!!

dulce perez HE WHAT? BUT SHE HASN'T LET ANYONE CALL HER THAT FOR YEARS! EVEN AUSTIN WASN'T ALLOWED TO CALL HER BELLA

daniel riccardo THIS IS BIG NEWS PEOPLE!

lewis hamilton will you people shut up? some of us have an early flight to catch tomorrow.

fernando alonso mute them, i usually do that until the next morning. lewis hamilton i should start doing that

daniel ricciardo CARLOS DROP EVERYTHING NOW!!!

bailey winters MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN! daniel ricciardo NOT THE TIME BAILEY! bailey winters IT IS ALWAYS THE TIME FOR DAPHNE JONES SONGS!

carlos sainz what happened? what did i miss?

arthur leclerc that's not fair, i've known her for years and i still get punched on the arm when i call her bella

dulce perez that’s because it’s usually “this is the skin of a killer bella” lando norris to be fair it’s a great line, and robert pattinson is great. team edward all the way daphne jones for legal reasons, team jacob natalia ruiz shall i tell suki lando’s in love with her boyfriend? lando norris CAN I MEET HIM? TELL ME I CAN!!

carlos sainz QUE ESTÁ PASANDO?! SOMEONE EXPLAIN!!

logan sargeant what’s the big deal with him calling her bella? it’s her name, no?

carlos sainz QUE? HE CALLED HER WHAT? dulce perez the only people allowed to call her bella was our dad, tio checo too, but ever since dad passed she hasn’t let anyone call her that. she says it was his name and only his. arthur leclerc her ex tried calling her bella and she kicked him in the nuts when they first met. he still did it every time he was angry at her. charles leclerc which was everyday and she always cried because only her dad was allowed to call her that. logan sargeant so the ex was an asshole? max verstappen biggest understatement of the year.

logan sargeant and that’s why she gave her phone to alex earlier.

mick schumacher HE TEXTED? AGAIN? I WOULD STRANGLE HIM IF I WOULDN'T LAND IN JAIL

daniel ricciardo i’m going to punch that guy. take a hint dude.

logan sargeant why don’t you guys just block him?

dulce perez oh why didn’t we try that? WE DID THAT YOU AMERICAN!

natalia ruiz seb said we needed to teach her to not reach out to him on her own. we're starting with confiscating her phone anytime he texts her and we give it to her the next day. it was hard to get where we are now, trust me. she used to fight us on it but now she just hands her phone over.

mae jones we're not quite sure what the next step is but we're making progress. maybe we can get her to block him on her own.

george russell so what exactly is the next step in operation osbella? obella? iscar? what's the official name?

fernando alonso how about 'all of you need to stop being invested in isabella's love life and go the hell to sleep?"

lando norris yes papa nando. fernando alonso that's going to stick isn't it? max verstappen absolutely lando norris 100 percent daniel ricciardo already making t-shirts lance stroll papa nando, papa seb, and uncle lewis mae jones good luck explaining that one to isa and oscar in the other groupchat.

¡leclerc-s speaks! it's austin gp weekend! (i live in california) anyways hope you enjoyed this one before quali today or after. expect more posts this weeked, maybe? i'm not sure yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi don't mean to bother you but I wish to know if you were going to continue the yandere kny cat.

Last Post

You’d been so antsy lately you almost forgot to actually meet your new landlord

Apparently due to some unfortunate circumstances your old landlord had died was murdered

And his son has come to run the place instead rather than having the whole system shut down and everyone evicted

You were anxious because your baby Magenta was nowhere to be found

He didn’t even come home when you left catnip on your doorstep

Despite all that you made or bought some cookies for the new guy

And aren’t you surprised when you come face to face with those eyes

“M-magenta?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh uh sorry! It's just your eyes…they’re very pretty.”

“Well, thank you. Care to come inside?”

He’s trying to act normally like his heart isn’t pumping with such intensity

To think you’d recognize him so quickly 

Even in his experience going undercover as a human not too many spoke about his eyes 

At least not in a positive light

When he finally waves goodbye he’s reeling with intensity 

There is something so much more exciting about experiencing you like this

Your shorter than him 

So much smaller than him 

So fragile compared to him

Demon or not you’re so weak 

He can’t have you out here unprotected 

With that in mind he waits until you’re out 

Before letting himself in to see the stern-faced cat of Giyuu Tomioka waiting near the door:

“I was waiting for you to trespass. I wonder can you even understand me now.//”

“I can.” 

At his words he lifted his hat letting his cat ears and lengthy tail out. Flicking, agitated he moved to let himself further into your home only to be stopped by the black cat hopping from his post on the counter to stalk in front of him. He glared into the deep blue eyes of the black tomcat before gliding him away with his foot. 

“Where are the kittens?”

“Why?//”

He growled, further letting himself into the house making a beeline towards your room. Ignoring the resounding hisses he let himself into your room. Expecting to see the kittens curled up on your bed and pillows, a position he typically ushered them to, only to find a completely different scene.  

“Oh Master! I’m happy to find you so close to your true form!//”

A blonde turkish angora with rainbow eyes was currently dangling a burgundy kitten off the bed by his collar. Nezuko was swatting at the bigger cat while Rui seemed to have awoken at his entrance immediately mewing positively at him.

“Doma put him down.”

“Yes sir!”

Unceremoniously dropping him, the cat proceeded to fully turn and stand at attention towards Muzan. Thankfully Tanjiro’s descent was halted by Giyuu dashing in to catch him by scruff. With a growl and bristled tail he carried him out the room immediately being followed by Nezuko who shot him a glare of her own. 

“Why are you here Doma?”

“One of (Y/n)’s friends have decided to go on a trip for work, so she left me here in the meantime.”

“I see.”

Doma stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for Muzan to give him orders or something only to find that the demon king was quite occupied. Holding the pillow to his face he aggressively sniffed letting his imagination run wild as he recalled smelling it on you during your last visit. Moving on, he used his enhanced sense of smell to guide him to your wardrobe. Folded with clothes and underwear he wasted no time rubbing them on himself specifically on his sweatglands-near his neck face. Completely focused he missed the increasing meowing his subordinates were doing. 

“M-master w-what are you doing?!//”

“I-I spent all morning scenting those Master? Can’t I have a little bit, since I am going to be leaving soon anyway.//”

Muzan didn’t stop what he was doing, only turning his head to deliver his aggressive glare making Rui and Doma bow their heads in submission. 

“Don’t be bold. When I’m here I’m the only one allowed to imprint my presence.”

“But you left!//” 

The accusatory remark came from Tanjiro who was barging back into the room with Nezuko right behind. Giyuu also peeked around the corner, seeming to have tried to stop him. Muzan seemed annoyed at the statement, turning wholly to look at the burgundy kitten. 

“You left (Y/n) and us all alone, how can we even trust you?//” 

“Tanjiro!//” 

Giyuu scolded him as he watched Muzan’s face remorph into one of anger; he moved to stand beside his junior only to be stopped by Doma who was standing on guard with his own way of smirking. 

“You’re such a kitten! Don’t you realize what I’ve done?”

He abandoned his scenting, looking down at the kitten who was continuing to glare at him completely unphased. 

“I got rid of that cockroach that kept sneaking in here! Do you think I should have just let him be when I could have gotten rid of him?!”

“No, but we could have gone about things another way!//” 

“Like what?! And what do you know! I’m hundreds of years older than you!”

“Well I’m not a monster that just kills all their problems!//”

“You say that but aren’t you the one that promised to ki-”

“ENOUGH!//” 

Giyuu meowed, bringing Tanjiro’s and Muzan’s fight to a halt. Both still seemed plenty worked up so Giyuu spoke again.

“Didn’t we agree that we leave all of that for home!? Just leave it. The only thing we focus on is protecting (Y/n)!//” 

The air between them seemed to calm as both Muzan and Tanjiro closed up on themselves. Giyuu shot the kitten a look and if that wasn’t enough Rui who was no longer on the bed swatted at Tanjiro who huffed before turning back to the cat-human. 

“I’m…sorry for misunderstanding you.//”

“And I forget that you're a kitten sometimes, must be the human side of this body.”

Everyone grimaced at the not-so-much apology before collectively breathing in a sigh of relief when Muzan began to smile at him.

“I have no intention of staying away from (Y/n) after all. So it’s best you get used to me.”

“Oh babies I’m home!”

Both dread and excitement ran through everyone as they realized that you were in fact home from work. Doma wanted to dart off toward you only to be held back by Giyuu who motioned towards Muzan who was very much still a cat-human who was digging through your drawers. Running around frantically Rui was raving about how they were supposed to hide him, Nezuko was getting worked up and proceeded to run around just as wildly leaving Tanjiro to chase her and try and stop them. All the while your steps increase as your sweet voice calls out for them as it was strange that they hadn’t greeted you at the door. 

“Babies, where are you guys? Are you guys all hanging out in the bedroom?”

Your steps grew louder as Giyuu tried to rationalize what to do. You finally stepped into the room watching the kittens run around on the floor with your black, blue eyed tomcat trying to ignore the rainbow eyed cat. A drawer in your wardrobe was open and came to find someone familiar digging through it.

“Magenta!? Where have you been, sweet baby!? Awww did you get bigger?!”

You scooped up the shorthair cuddling into him as he nuzzled into you. Turning right out the room you too focused on showering your returned cat you missed the prideful look he sent towards the stunned looking cats. 

“Did you know he could do that?//”

“...No…But I wish I did.//”

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend. (Part 8)

Other parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Seeing as all my current WIPs are making me mad, I nearly forgot about this. Since it’s already written out and in my notes app, I thought I should post it lol.

Quick note: a few POV changes happen, there’s a bit of plot and I kinda bash Nancy a bit. (picks up right after part 7)

Gareth watches as Eddie falls asleep and he only knows because of how relaxed his friend looks and he pulls his eyes away to find the freshmen looking so confused.

They don’t ask anything, thankfully, but they’re not at all sneaky with their glances towards Eddie. Or the completely silent conversation they have with each other.

He just hopes whatever it’s about doesn’t involve Eddie.

Eddie’s dragging the rest of the day and Gareth is about ready to explode at how dumb his friend is being, “dude, you should’ve stayed home”

“I had to take tests, that effects my final grades” he says, “I- Ms. Click fucking hates me dude”

And unfortunately, his friend is right and he has to watch as he suffers finding his work and everything else. The rest of the day is pretty boring, the only weird thing was catching Nancy Wheeler eye Eddie during their shared class. He only noticed because he’s trying and failing at not laughing at Eddie, who’s nodding off during Mr. Smith’s lecture.

Once the final bell rings, he’s trying to find Eddie since their last class isn’t shared.

He turns the corner and nearly falls on his ass, “fuck” he mumbles and looks to see the person he ran into, “dude my bad.”

Jonathan Byers nods and helps him up, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention either”

He’s about to say something else, when he hears an all too familiar laugh. Looking around he finds Eddie with a nasty glare aimed at Nancy Wheeler, he looks at Jonathan and wordlessly they both move towards the other two.

“I don’t fucking sell shit anymore, Wheeler and it wouldn’t be any of your business if I did!”

She crossed her arms and glares up at Eddie, “but you did sell! And it is my business!”

He can just see Eddie’s anger, before anything else happens, he steps closer to his friend and quickly grabs his arm, “Eddie let’s go, cool off before you get home, yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just glares at Nancy, “it’s not your business, he told you to stay away! That means, stay away from me too.”

He doesn’t say more, simply because Gareth punches his arm and leads him back out, “dude what the fuck?”

Eddie shakes his head and makes a beeline to the van, “Nancy is a bitch, dude.”

“I noticed, who were you talking about?”

“Stevie. Nancy believes she can get him to help her with some shit. Been like this for a year now, when Stevie and I were only just starting out with our friendship” Eddie explains with a glare aimed at nothing and his hands clutching and unclutching from frustration, “When he was only a few months pregnant, there was one morning where his mom answered the door to find her standing there and wanted her to wake him up to fucking talk about whatever”

That’s, really fucking confusing to Gareth. He looks towards the school and sees Jonathan and Nancy walk out with their brothers, “didn’t Nancy break up with Steve?”

Eddie let out a near hysterical laugh, a cigarette dangling from his mouth now, “She nearly fucking broke him, actually.”

“What?”

Eddie jumps into the drivers seat, pointing a finger to his passenger seat and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Once inside the van and Eddie starts it up, “Stevie told me that she blamed him for Barb’s death and his mom told me about how she found him sobbing about it. He said Nancy called him bullshit, that their whole relationship was bullshit.”

“Fuck dude”

He’ll never be able to look at Nancy the same, “and now she’s pushing you to what?”

Eddie scruffs and turns down his street, “Fuck, I don’t even know. She came up to me demanding to know if I knew why Stevie left school or where he is, then when I wouldn’t answer, tried saying I’m a bad influence”

He laughed, “I mean you are but not like that”

“Fuck you dude” he smiles and shakes his head, “I haven’t sold anything since I found about Ellie. Wayne pulled me aside after we told him, to tell me that I needed to stop- I mean, I already was thinking it.” He shrugs, “I don’t know why Nancy would think like that”

Gareth doesn’t either and he tells this to Eddie, the van comes to a stop in front of his home, “I don’t know either, she sounds like she’s a little obsessed with Steve.”

“I know and it’s weird, right?”

The Next Day

Eddie is woken up by Eleanor’s cry and he groans, he feels Steve stir next to him and he shushes him, “stay, I’ll grab her” he gets a hum in return and he sits up before dragging himself over to her crib.

She’s kicking her legs and wiggling trying to get out of the blanket, “hey baby” he whispers to catch her attention, she blinks up at him and whines.

Smiling, he lifts her up and rocks her, “come on, cranky.” He looks over and sees Steve smiling at him, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

Steve moves up a bit and pulls his shirt off, before he can even sit down next to him. Eleanor is no longer crying, thankfully, but Steve still makes grabby hands at him.

Laughing, he hands her over and then pulls the covers back over them before wrapping his arm around Steve. They sit in silence as Eleanor drinks and Steve drops his head onto his shoulder, “I guess it’s another long day”

Laughing softly he pressed a kiss to his head, “want me to stay home?”

“Maybe? She was so fussy yesterday, Eds.” He whispers, a hand patting her back, “even mom couldn’t get her to settle”

Later on Janet finds all three of them in bed asleep, Eleanor in Steve’s arms and Steve against Eddie. She shakes her head before going over and shaking Eddie, “Honey, don’t you have school today?”

He blinks back sleep and looks up to find her standing there, “nah, I’m skipping today. Gotta help Stevie”

She smiles, nodding before placing a kiss on their foreheads, “I’ll call the school, have one of your friends pick up your schoolwork later, okay?”

He nods and she smiles before walking out of the room and he looks down to find Steve still asleep with Eleanor snuggled against him. Sighing, he relaxes back down and decides they don’t need to get up anytime soon.

Steve is humming along to the mixtape Eddie put on to fill the kitchen as they make breakfast/lunch.

It’s currently noon and Eleanor is having tummy time in the living room with Eddie, while he’s busy making breakfast sandwiches. They slept in until nearly eleven and when they made their way downstairs, Steve found a note from his mom telling them she had several appointments today.

He can hear Eddie encouraging Eleanor to move around as he makes his way towards them with their food, when the doorbell rings. Confused, he sets the plates down and goes to the front door and through the peephole finds Nancy and Jonathan.

Even more confused and a little frustrated, he opens the door with, “Isn’t today a school day? Why are you guys here?”

They both look shocked to see him, which is weird since they’re the one’s knocking on his door.

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Nancy starts with and there’s her angry determination, “you’ve been locked up in your house?!”

Jonathan just looks uncomfortable.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he shakes his head, “uh, yes? I live here. Just because we don’t run into each other doesn’t mean I left town. Just my asshole father, now you should go back to school. Isn’t this your senior year?”

“Shouldn’t you be there with us?”

Rolling his eyes, he leans against the wall. Giving the impression of indifference, “I graduated earlier this year, through a different school. Not that it concerns you, I’ve told you before, Nancy. I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m definitely not your friend.” He then looks At Jonathan then back at her, “he’s your boyfriend, now leave me alone. Leave Eddie alone while you’re at it”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him and he can just barely smell the annoyance in the air from her scent, “So you are still friends with him? Is he the reason you dropped out? Why you won’t help with the upside down?”

“I have much more important things in life,” he thinks of carrying Eleanor for nine months, holding her and feeding her, thinks of being with Eddie and the alpha holding him like he’s the whole world, “like I said before, I was there to apologize. I stepped in when you needed help, but afterwards? We were told it was over. Will was found and is fine and safe. Shouldn’t you guys be over this?”

Neither person in front of him can give him an answer because he hears Eddie shout, “Oh Stevie! The little missy and I miss you!”

He sees the confusion on their faces and before they can ask, he slams the door in their faces. Which if he’s being honest, he should’ve done sooner. He locks the door and turns around to the ones that actually deserve his attention.

He knows, Nancy won’t give up though.

~

Yikes I completely forgot how I wrote Nancy in this 🫣 oops. Please know I DO love her but she’s just a stubborn person and can’t understand that Steve’s not involved and refuses to be involved.

I can’t believe I added plot to this lol anyway, we’ll get to more slice of life again 🥰

If you see any typos or mistakes, let me know!! Also if you have any ideas that you’d like to see, send me an ask or message! Same goes for if you want to be added to the tag list!

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings @tartarusfairy @mx-jinxous @zombiethingy @lunaticmarunatic @carlyv @thelittleclare @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @bookworm0690 @forest-fogg @flustratedcas @p0lybl4nkk @tiny-enthusiast @a-gae-af-racoon @blackpanzy @marvelmwah @malicia62 @solliesolesito

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Sweet Little Killer

Ghoulcy | Cooper x Lucy | post S1 | touchstarved | hurt\comfort | angst | sometimes he's an asshole | there was only one bed | overprotective and jealous Ghoul | eventual smut

Those big eyes, Cooper thought, his anger rising. Those big eyes of hers were glistening with tears, and twice as pretty for it. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on men with those soulful eyes of hers. If she did, she was damn well making those tears brim on her dark lashes on purpose, trying to wrap his withered heart around her pretty little finger.

As Ghoul and Lucy journey across the wastes to New Vegas both of them learn a helluva lot more about each other, and circumstances and mutual attraction drive them into each other's arms.

Start with Chapter One

CHAPTER THREE

The ghoul shouldered into the washroom with his thumbs tucked into his belt. A moment later he came out holding a skinny, grey-haired man by the scruff of his vest and shoved him down the corridor.

‘But I haven’t finished my bath,’ the old man protested, clutching his scrubbing brush on a stick against his chest.

‘Come back later,’ the ghoul told him.

‘I’m so sorry. He wouldn’t listen. I’ll only be a minute,’ Lucy called after the poor old man.

‘Go on, vaultie.’ He jerked his head at the door. The ghoul had refused to allow her to be alone in the communal washroom unless he was with her or he cleared it out and stood guard by the door.

‘You didn’t have to kick that old man out,’ she scolded him, entering the empty washroom. There were several hip baths scattered around, and a shower in the corner.

‘The alternative is me standing over you while you bathe,’ he called after her as the door swung closed, ‘so I’m being mighty reasonable.’

This was the ghoul, being reasonable. Lucy turned on the shower and was pleasantly surprised by the clean, warmish water. The tiles were cracked and moldy, but this bathroom was luxurious compared to the rest of her existence on the surface.

‘You all right in there, vaultie?’ the ghoul called through the door.

‘yOu aLL riGhT iN tHeRE, vaULtiE?’ she mocked under her breath, soaping her hair.

‘Vaultie!’ he barked. ‘I’m coming in.’

‘I’m fine ,’ she hollered back. ‘Don’t come in.’ How could the man go from forcing her to fight Radscorpions all day to practically not allowing her to breathe without his permission? Because the man was an asshole, that’s why.

A different thought occurred to her that cooled her temper. Just what was another bounty hunter going to do to her that was worse than Radscorpions?

Probably best not to think about.

Lucy emerged a few minutes later, clean, but annoyed with the ghoul. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re being so jumpy?’

He flashed her a glare that told her that he was less in the mood for talking now than he ever had been.

As they passed the bar on the way to their rooms, the ghoul dug in his pocket and slammed a key on a battered keyring onto the counter. 

‘We only need one room.’

Lucy took a deep, angry breath, preparing to holler at him. It was only the last-minute memory that she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself that made her whisper-shout instead. ‘One room? I can’t even sleep by myself?’

Predictably, the ghoul took her wordlessly by the elbow and steered her away.

When he unlocked the door to what was now their room, there was only one bed. Lucy sighed heavily. Of course. A double, but it was a small one. If he lay down, the ghoul’s feet would be hanging off the edge.

‘I hope you enjoy sleeping in the chair,’ she told him sweetly, gesturing at the hard wooden chair in the corner. ‘If that doesn’t suit you, I hear there’s another room available somewhere else.’

‘Chair’s fine by me,’ he muttered, sitting down and folding his arms. He stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankle, taking up almost all the room in the small space.

Through the grimy window, Lucy could see that it was already dark outside, and the room was chilly. She dove into bed beneath the one blanket, and took off her bra and pants under the covers. Her hair was damp, and she shivered as the bed slowly, slowly warmed up.

Muffled coughing woke her from slumber sometime later. For a moment she didn’t know where she was, and then she saw the outline of the ghoul in his chair in the darkened room. He had a fist to his lips as he fumbled inside his duster for his inhaler. His coughs grew desperate and wracking before he managed to hold the inhaler to his lips and take his medication.

The ghoul lowered his head once more with his arms folded tightly across his chest.  

As Lucy exhaled, she saw her breath. The room was freezing and the ghoul…well he wasn’t sick, but he was suffering.

Lucy got out of bed and padded toward the door.

The ghoul lifted his booted foot and placed it on the wall, blocking her way. In a gravelly voice he asked, ‘Where do you think you’re goin’?’

‘I was just going to find you a blank—’

‘Get back to bed.’ The ghoul coughed again.

‘But—'

‘Bed.’

She stood shivering in front of him. This wasn’t right. ‘Your lungs don’t like the cold, do they?’

The ghoul answered with a surly cough. He looked up at her, his eyes traveling from her bare feet, up her bare legs in just briefs, to her pebbled nipples in her tank top, and finally to her face.

She reached for his hand, coaxing him to stand up. ‘Come on. Just for a minute until you warm up.’

His dark eyes glittered in the darkness. He slowly got to his feet, shrugged out of his duster, lay his hat on the chair, and pulled off his boots.

Lucy got back into bed and scooted over to make space for him. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She’d never slept in the same bed as a man before. It had always sounded so nice. If you wanted a cuddle, there was a warm, loving body right there.

‘Just until I warm up,’ he said, getting under the blanket. The bed creaked as he lay down. Lucy moved closer and was surprised to feel heat radiating from him even though he was shivering. Ghouls must run hot.

Slowly, his body relaxed, and his eyes drifted closed. He fell asleep, which was what Lucy had hoped would happen. She drank in his face as he slept. As ravaged by radiation as he was, the ghoul was handsome. Full lips and high cheekbones. A strong body. She’d been roughly manhandled by him, but what would it feel like if he was holding her?

Lucy rolled onto her side and scooted back against him, wiggling her ass until she made contact with as much of him as possible. He was blissfully warm. She fell asleep, pretending that this was her husband, and she was safe in bed with him.

She awoke sometime later to darkness, and with a heavy arm over her hips and wrapped around her stomach. The ghoul had awoken and pulled her closer.

‘Now you’ve done it, vaultie,’ he muttered sleepily.

Biting her lip, she nestled back into him even further, and he responded by squeezing her tight. Something hard and thick nestled into the cleft of her ass.

Lucy’s eyes opened into the darkness. ‘I thought you…’

‘You assumed I couldn’t get it up because I didn’t want one of the working girls? Real nice of you. Ever think that I’m just picky, sweetheart?’ His breath was hot on the side of her neck.

This was new information.

New, interesting information.

‘Is there anyone?’ she whispered.

Heavy silence. ‘Not in this world. Not anymore.’

Before the bombs, then. ‘You remember her?’

He sighed. ‘Shit, can we change the subject? I was enjoying myself just now.’

She turned slowly in his arms, keeping herself pressed tightly against him. ‘You remember your name, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he finally admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you what it is.’

‘Please,’ she implored him. ‘Please tell me.’

The ghoul opened his eyes. They were nose to nose cavity in the darkness. Her hands were against his chest. His bare hands were ever so slowly kneading her hips.

‘It’s Cooper,’ he finally said.

She smiled. ‘Cooper. It suits you.’

‘Not anymore it doesn’t, and I’m getting up.’

Cooper tried half-heartedly to get out of bed, but she clenched her hands on his shirt. ‘Please don’t. This is the most comfortable I’ve been since coming to the surface.’

He gazed at her lips. She eased her hips closer to him, needing to feel his erection against her sensitive flesh.

‘You’re gonna need a dose of RadAway if you don’t stop doing that.’

‘Then I’ll take RadAway. This sure feels nice, doesn’t it?’ She lifted her hand and touched his face.

He closed his eyes as her fingers stroked his cheek. ‘No, vaultie,’ he lied.

‘What were you like before this world?’

‘Naïve.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Me, too. I’m trying not to be so stupid anymore.’

‘Me, too.’

‘How’s that working out for us, do you think?’ she whispered. 

He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with parted lips. She moaned softly, and when his tongue slid against hers, she opened her mouth wider for him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her breasts against his chest. From the way she was arching her back, this girl was turned on. By him. A ghoul. Was this vaultie so sheltered she just didn’t know any better?

Cooper broke the kiss. ‘Does that feel good to you? I don’t know what this body feels like to anyone else.’

‘So good, Cooper,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘What feels good to you?’

He drank in her beautiful face. ‘Anything you do, darlin’. You nearly made my heart quit beating when you touched my shoulders and compared me to my wanted poster. I’m—not used to this.’

Fuck. That’s too vulnerable. He needed to shut the hell up.

She reached down between them and pushed her hand up beneath his shirt. ‘This heart?’ Sensation exploded across his chest.

‘Mmm,’ he says, dragging a ragged breath into his lungs.

‘You feel so good, Cooper. Warm and strong.’

He was drowning in her soft, sweet adoration. It was so much. Too much.

With a groan, he rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him as he devoured her mouth. He had no right to get his hands all over the prettiest, sweetest woman for thousands of miles around, possibly anywhere, but he was going to be selfish and do it anyway. His cock was harder than ever and he thrust it against her pussy through the thin fabric of her underwear. Lucy moaned. The sound of her made him crazy, and he slid against her again and again, both of them delighting in the friction.

He pushed her tank up and saw that she’d taken off her bra before bed. When he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, she gasped and hitched her knee up to his hip, inviting more.

Pulling her briefs to one side, he slid two fingers across her sex, and discovered so much slippery wetness.

‘This for me, darlin’?’ he asked, admiring the wetness on his fingers.

She bit her lip and nodded, and then cried out as he sank his middle finger into her up to the third knuckle.

Mine, he thought, clenching his teeth on her shoulder right by her neck, and circling her clit with his thumb. Lucy moaned louder. 

He added a second finger, and that really made her yelp and clutch at him. He wasn’t trying to make her come yet. He just wanted to explore her, watch her, listen to her, as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out of her. The sweet grip of her on his fingers was making him ache to be inside her. He probably shouldn’t. He probably should make sure they had some RadAway before they did that, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to pull out of her once his cock was hammering into her and his orgasm was barrelling down on him. No way he had that kind of self-control around her, and he would end up filling her with radioactive cum.

Unsteadily, she pulled at his belt while he kept thrusting with his fingers, and it made him smile at how clumsy he was making her.

When her hand wrapped around his cock, it was his turn to lose focus. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the sight of her touching him. There were radiation scars even on his cock, but she didn’t seem to care, her slender fingers caressing his girth.

‘You’re so thick, Cooper,’ she whispered as he thrust into her hand.

‘Fuck, stop saying my name,’ he panted.

‘Why?’

‘It’s too much, vaultie.’ He could feel his heart softening. All the protective anger he carried around was melting away. If he didn’t stay angry, he would die. Chems and anger were all that were holding his ruined body together.

‘Lucy,’ she corrected him with a caress and a smile. ‘Call me Lucy. And I want to say your name. I love your name.’

The sunshine was going to burn him alive, and it wasn’t even daylight yet.

They continued to caress each other, focusing on whatever made the other one breathe harder and moan. She came first, her thighs squeezing his hips and her pussy squeezing his fingers in a death grip. The sight of her head thrown back in pleasure was enough to make him lose it. He cupped his hand around his cock as he came, making sure he didn’t splash her with any of his cum.

After, they lay wrapped around each other with their legs tangled together. Lucy was asleep, but Cooper's mind was racing. The clarity you experience after you climax, he’d once heard it called.  

What about your man ? he wanted to ask her. That Knight in a tin can. If she wasn’t going to think about the canned Knight or talk about him, then Cooper wouldn’t either.

Cooper’s arms tightened around her. I don’t want him to have you.

He gritted his teeth, wondering what the hell he was doing, being possessive over a woman. He’d only ever felt this strongly about a woman once before in his life, and it had all but destroyed him.

Hope hadn’t been part of his life since the bombs fell and he’d lost everything. It was probably best if he and Lucy never talked about what had just happened between them. As much as it hurt him, they probably shouldn’t touch each other again either, and focus on getting to New Vegas.

With her pretty hand lying against his heart and her semi-naked body tight in his arms, Cooper knew he was in the danger zone. 

-

I just finished playing Fallout 3 and I loved it! These games have been on my list for ages but the show bumped them to the top. I started New Vegas and I'm having so much fun imagining what Cooper and Lucy are going to do there in S2. Thank you for reading!

Read Chapter Four here.

[severalforraelee]

Getaway to Hawaii: Pierre Gasly x Reader

Photo credits to motorsport.com

Word count: 2,078

Written by raelee / Posted Mar 15

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

An arm wrapping around my waist wakes me up from a deep, much needed sleep. Running after two little boys all day isn’t easy- especially with a husband gone half of the year because of his job. I snuggle back into the arm, already knowing who it is and enjoying the limited alone time that I get with him. With my eyes still closed, I feel him lean over me, kissing me on the cheek over and over again. I giggle at the action, squealing as he rubs his scruff against my skin.

“Stop it, Pierre,” I roll onto my back to look into the Frenchman’s captivating eyes.

“You don’t really want me to stop,” he teases, “This is the first time that I’ve been alone with my lovely wife in two weeks. Let me keep kissing her.”

He leans closer to me and I let him, our lips connecting in a deep kiss. His body moves so that he’s straddling me and I raise my hands, tangling them in his hair and trying to pull him closer to me, as if that’s even possible. A warm hand sneaks up my- sorry- his shirt on my body, rising higher and higher.

Then the door’s thrown open.

“Mommy.” The boy with the palest blonde hair that I’ve ever seen- God knows where he got that from- stands in the doorway to mine and Pierre’s bedroom, meeting my eyes with a guilty and shameful look on his face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I push Pierre back gently so that I can sit up, concerned with his expression.

“I tried to go potty by myself,” Elliot responds, seconds away from crying.

It’s then that I notice the lack of pants and underwear on his lower half.

“Gross, someone got pee all over the bathroom,” his older brother decides that this is the best time to chime in, running to stand behind Elliot.

Elliot erupts into tears at Ayden’s words and I hurry out of bed, taking care to tug my shirt down before my kids can see anything. But it’s not like they haven’t seen it before.

“Sh, it’s okay, El, let’s go get you cleaned up,” I reassure the two year old, grabbing his hand. “Pierre, can you clean up the pee while I get him ready?”

I leave before he can respond, not wanting to hear his grumbling at being assigned pee clean up duty.

It’s an hour later, Elliot and Ayden playing together nicely in the living room, Elliot with his big boy pull-up on and Ayden showing off his big boy Spiderman underwear, when Pierre appears again.

He wraps his arms around me from behind, watching as I move the scrambled eggs around in the pan. His chin leans forward, resting on my shoulder as he murmurs gently into my ear.

“I can’t believe that you put me on pee clean up duty.”

“You weren’t here last time for poop clean up duty,” I wrinkle my nose at the memory.

He hums, hopefully in gratefulness, and rocks us back and forth gently. “I have been away a lot lately. I’ve missed the boys, they always seem like they’ve grown so much since I last went away.”

“They’re two and three, prime growing ages,” I respond, pushing the pan of scrambled eggs off the burner and pulling the one full of bacon onto the burner in front of me.

“Mm, I know who else is in her prime,” he flirts, kissing my neck.

I roll my eyes at his action but can’t help the little smile on my face.

“What do you say during summer break you and I sneak off to have a romantic getaway?”

“Pierre, summer break’s in three weeks. Where would we find a babysitter on such short notice? Where would we go? Where would we stay?” I question him, even just the suggestion sending me into a frenzy.

He turns me around, holding my hands in his own. “My mom already said yes to babysitting, you know how much she loves the boys. I know a little place in Hawaii, leave all of the other details to me to figure out.”

“You mean your assistant,” I raise my eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes but leans forward, placing a kiss on my lips.

It’s surprisingly passionate. I didn’t think he would want this romantic getaway this bad, but the kiss shows the emotions that he can’t put into words.

He pulls back, placing a final peck on my lips. “So? What do you say?”

I sigh, glancing over to the living room where Elliot and Ayden have somehow found markers and are drawing on each other with them.

“I hope your mom knows what she’s in for.”

He follows my sightline, sighing as well before beginning to walk towards the living room. “I’ve got this one.”

~

“Pierre, this is beautiful,” I gasp as we walk into the villa sitting atop Hawaii’s ocean blue water.

“Only the best for my love,” he responds, leaning in and kissing my temple.

I move to the bedroom, setting my suitcase down on a chair and pulling out my phone. One text to Pascale to check on the boys won’t hurt…

Just as I open my phone, a rough hand pulls it out of my own, setting it down on the nearby dresser. Pierre’s arms wrap around my body, caging my arms to my chest and lowering his head, resting his cheek on my own.

“None of that now, they’re in good hands,” he reassures me.

“I know, it’s just hard being away from them. I haven’t been this far away from them in three years, four if you’re counting the time that I was pregnant with Ayden.”

My body turns in his arms, his hands sliding to rest on my lower back as I wind my arms around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, wanting to do something to soothe the slight anxiety I’m feeling at being away from my babies.

“So we might as well take advantage of being away from them while we can, right?” He suggests, a smirk beginning to make its way onto his face.

I narrow my eyes at him, immediately picking up on the insinuation of his words. That doesn’t stop me from kissing him back when he leans in to place his lips on mine, and I don’t protest when he guides me over to the bed.

~

I smile at the waitress as she walks away with our breakfast orders, thanking her. My gaze turns to Pierre to see him already looking at me, a smile of admiration on his lips.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” I ask, sneaking a wishful gaze at a couple riding past the beachside restaurant on jet skis.

That looks so fun.

“I didn’t plan anything for today.”

His words have my gaze returning to him and his face drops at my expression.

“What?” He questions.

“Pierre,” I pause, the dots connecting in my mind. “Did you plan anything for this trip?”

“No,” he responds, now looking like he’s regretting that choice. “I thought that you would want this time off to relax.”

“Pierre, I’ve been running after two toddlers for the past three years, I need to have something to do,” I whine, “I can’t just sit around all day.”

I feel bad complaining, since this is a lovely trip. From taking initiative of wanting us to go on it to buying plane tickets to renting the villa, it’s clear that he did put thought and effort into making this a nice, romantic getaway for both of us.

But… how many times do you get to go to Hawaii?

“I’ll fix this,” he reassures me, reaching over the table to grab my hands in his own. “Do you want to go ride jet skis today? I saw you watching them.”

I give him a shy smile, being brought back to our first date. He held my hands just like this when telling me that his job requires a lot of time and energy, but he really wanted to have a relationship with me and asked if I’d be okay with that. I’m so thankful that I said yes that night.

“I would love that.”

~

The next couple of days go by in a blur. Pierre and I went to ride on jet skis the first day, hiking to a volcano the second day, tanning on the beach and swimming in the ocean (and maybe having sex in the ocean) on the third day, and snorkeling on the fourth day.

Throughout it all I miss my boys, sneaking texts to Pascale and smiling at the photos she sends me throughout each day. By day two Pierre realizes what I’m doing, which means that I don’t have to hide the check ins anymore, showing him the goofy photos and videos that his mom sends of our sons.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I breathe out, cuddling closer into my husband’s side as we watch the last sunset of our trip. The pinks and purples and oranges swirl together over the clear water as the sun wanes in the sky.

“You’re so beautiful,” he replies quietly, “I’m so lucky to have you. You’re the perfect wife and mother to our sons, and you’re the kindest person that I know.”

I smile up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for planning this trip, Pierre. I really appreciate it.”

“Thank you for coming with me. I know it’s been hard for you to be away from the boys, but I’ve really enjoyed this time together.”

We sit together in silence for a while, his hand stroking my shoulder delicately.

“I really do miss you guys, you know, when I’m traveling for races.”

“We don’t doubt that you do. We really miss you, too.”

“Do you think that you and the boys would like to come out for more races? You know, more than the ones that you do right now?” He suggests.

“Uh, Pierre, I actually want to talk to you about something,” I admit nervously, sitting up on the swinging bench.

I pull back from his grip, resting my back on the armrest of the bench so that I can face him. He gives me a concerned expression, obviously unsure of the topic of discussion and my anxious behavior.

“Uh, okay,” he lets out a nervous chuckle. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” I soothe, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just, I want something, and-””I want something, too,” he interrupts me, eyes lighting up at my words and the ideas of what I could want running through his mind.

“Okay, how about we say what we want together on the count of three?” He recommends.

I nod and take a deep breath. “One… two… three…”

“I want another baby.”

I squeal and he cheers as we say the same words. My hand reaches out for a high five and he connects it, pulling me into his lap with the grip.

“Look at us, we’re in sync,” he grins widely.

I laugh, leaning forward to press a sloppy and excited kiss to his lips.

“Is that why you wouldn’t come out for more races? Because you’d be pregnant?” He inquiries.

I nod. His hands rest on my hips as he stares out at the sunset, clearly trying to do some mental math.

“Well, if it’s August, and you get pregnant now,” he murmurs to himself, “You’d be due… in May, so you could still come to some of the races.”

“With two toddlers and a newborn, Pierre?” I raise my eyebrows at him, unimpressed.

He shrugs, pulling me closer to him. “We’ll figure it out.”

His lips meet mine again, one hand raising to tangle in my hair as he tries to push me even further onto him. My hands rest on his shoulders, traveling to guide along his back.

Once we run out of breath, me much sooner than him, he pulls away, planting a kiss onto my lips.

“We should get started like now, since it might take a while.”

“Of course,” I nod, smirking at him.

He can’t help but grin, pulling me in for a kiss once again.

Who knew a romantic getaway would turn into another baby?

Well, many people probably saw that coming.

[labselkie]

head hurts and i’m unnecessarily stressing over a paper and a presentation so. unluckily for you guys y’all get three big texts posts today

how it feels to go into five tangents at once

i’m going to refer to my s/i as myself in this post sorry (this counts as the mutant au,, that’s technically the main skyliv canon now, spidersona is second canon shhh. also a the mutant she has a different job)

can i let liv be stereotypically evil for a little bit. can i sit on that metal chair and giggle and kick my feet while she monologues and infodumps for an hour. tell me all the things she’s planning on doing to spider-man.

can i just. pull up to the lab one day during her lunch break to find her still hunched over her desk. she perks up like usual,, it’s a sight id never get over, before bolting over and getting a tentacle tto pick me up by the scruff (back of the shirt) and drop me in the first chair she sees

it’s like she’s got it all ready, like she rehearsed for this rehearsal. i mean when she turns the monitor around she didn’t realize she had a folder of pictures we’ve taken together open but “OH WHOOPS! DONT LOOK AT THAT, ITS FINE” and she minimizes it to a folder called “evil plans”

can i let her get into it every now nd then? even if she gets too into it, idc if she calls me her lackey or sidekick before she bursts into laughter. idc if she tosses me her goggles to hold before deciding to slide them uncomfortably over my bangs to try them on. she’s lost a lot with her work, this is the most fun she gets nowadays

the computer files make it canon that she’s had friends. but if you’re an Octavius who’s been dead set on work, i don’t know if you’re canonically destined to keep those friends

i mean, in my au she’s barely started the collider, but she’s still busy. she’s got a much more involved role in everything else at alchemax. she has to oversee funding from fisk and sponsoring miles’s school. she feels the need to consistently redesign and tweak her technology. she wants it to be perfect, she wants it to be seen

but after a bit, maybe i can help her learn that not everyone has to see her. i need to learn the same thing, but a couple people, maybe even one, can be enough

i show off liv being a “mad scientist” too much. maybe she hasn’t been consumed by her work, maybe she’s got a perfectly fine social life. if that ends up being canon for whatever reason, i’m sorry. i don’t want to take that away from her

but she’s an Octavius. like every Spider is cursed by the universe, so many with that last name must be cursed too. same with the Osborns, and the Staceys, and so many more.

But when a mutant so out of the norm just shows up at your lab one day, maybe this universe is special

[dc-fanfic-sideblog]

So… I don’t really have an update on the costume designer reader, just some more little facts because I can’t help myself. None of this is in any sort of order. I’m treating Reader like a character for now in this post, i will eventually start to use “you” in place of “she/her/reader”

I’ve never really written x reader fanfiction before, so I’ll try my best to make it as inclusive as I can (while being a little self indulgent as a treat)

If y’all have any questions or maybe even requests then please send in an ask!! I want to practice writing!

Various DC characters x fem!reader

Reader is going to Gotham University on a full ride scholarship, but she doesn’t live in the dorms (if the Uni even has dorms because i can’t find any information on it) she has a shitty little apartment, basically a studio apartment because they’re a collage kid and can’t afford shit.

Every so often some small time villain will find their way onto the roof of their apartment building and reader is just chilling outside and she’ll ask “yo… do you have a costume yet?” And she may or may not design something for them or give criticism on whatever they’re already wearing

She asks Superman why he wears tights lol

SPEAKING OF SUPERMAN, i believe when reader goes off to Metropolis, Lois is all over her in like a mother hen kinda way. Giving tips on how to interview people, about asking good questions and keeping their interest

Clark is also there but after reader meets Superman she catches on almost immediately. Because hello, he’s just wearing glasses and fixing up his hair differently, what are the drinking in Metropolis?? (I’m heavily basing this Superman after the 1978 one because he’s so silly and pretty)

Batman/Bruce Wayne definitely has his dad instincts kicking in as soon as he hears about some college kid wanting to talk to VILLAINS that are in ARKHAM going to Gotham University on HIS FULL TERM SCHOLARSHIP.

Damien meets reader with Batman supervising him to make sure he’s not overly rude to reader, and Damien (as Robin) starts asking stuff like “why are you interviewing villains? Frankly that’s stupid and dangerous” and Bruce just scruffs him like a kitten and says goodbye lol

At some point I think Bruce meets reader as Bruce Wayne after one of her classes to be like “hey I’m the one giving you money so you can go to college. I heard about you talking to evil people and while I think that’s dangerous here’s a special ID to get into Arkham so you don’t get kidnapped by random villains on the street. Talk to these people while being supervised please”

His kids make the joke that he’s ready to adopt another kid, but he denies them just to let them freak out (he not gonna but he thinks it’s funny to mess with them like that every once in a while)

Jason follows reader as Red Hood when they’re going to Arkham for the first few months. The visits aren’t often because of classes and work, but they’re at least once a week.

Reader/you work as a work study for the theatre department, meaning reader has access to a lot of different materials and good strong sewing machines. There’s a pretty good sewing machine in the apartment but the university ones can handle thicker materials and can run for a lot longer

I’m kinda debating on including Morpheus/the Sandman just for funsies because I want to write him interacting with a slightly unhinged college student

Anyways that’s it for now, sorry I abandoned this account for so long lol but I’m back! (We’ll see how long that’ll last)