#let's see if i'll manage to get some new ones done this weekend

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hey saffy. Could you possibly do a request of the boys and reader getting a puppy or pet of some sort? Thanks in advance. Your work is really cool.

This is too cute!! Hope you enjoy🙃❤️ sorry it's a little short

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141 + König x Reader Getting a New Pet

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of malnutrition and death

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Simon Ghost Riley-

The two of you were walking around a strip mall on your day off, trying to kill some time when you passed by a pet store.

"Oh, Simon! Can we go in? Just to look." You turned to your husband, a pleading look in your eyes.

Simon was about to say no before seeing the look you were giving. "Quickly, love. This place is a trap."

Your eyes grew wide, and a smile was plastered on your face as you ran to the door, opening it quickly.

Dragging a reluctant Simon behind you, you walked along the wall of puppies before finding a small German Shepard pup, trying desperately to get your attention.

"Si! He's so cute! Can we see him, please? Super quick, I promise." You clasped your hands together and begged.

Simon sighed and waved you to go ahead. "I'll watch sweetheart. Go on ahead."

You squeaked from excitement, and went to grab the store clerk to set up your little meet and greet.

You'd managed to convince Simon to sit in the little room with you, and bounced up and down gleefully when the pup was brought to you.

"He's a sweet guy. Super playful. I'm honestly surprised nobody has taken him yet." The clerk told you before placing the puppy down on the ground in front of you and Simon.

The Shepard immediately ran to you, his tag wagging rapidly.

You giggled in delight as you got down to the same level as the dog, letting him lick your face. "Oh, he's so cute, isn't he?"

Simon tried not to smile as he watched you, not wanting his self-control to break. The more he looked, the cuter the dog got. To be fair, he had been wanting to get something to make sure you were well protected when you left.

Slowly but surely, Simon's resolve crumbled, and he ended up getting down on your level to play with the pup. The Shepard bolted to Simon, attacking him with frenzied kisses. Simon reached out to pet him and knew he was done for.

"Can we....can we get him?" You pleaded, mustering the best pouty lip look you could.

A small smile formed on his face, and that told you all you needed to know.

~

After bringing him home a few weeks later, the two of you settled on calling him "Riley," although it took Simon a while to stop calling him "dog."

The two of them ended up becoming best friends, and it was rare if you'd find one without the other. If you hadn't known better, you'd say your little plan worked out perfectly.

König-

You and König had the weekend off, so the two of you decided to go to a small getaway in the mountains, packed with trails to hike.

You were on one of the many trails, walking past a patch of bushes when you heard a small squeak.

"Kö, did you hear that?" You turned your head to try and find the source of the noise.

König nodded and moved toward the bushes to investigate. "Schat! Look!"

You walked to him and watched as he carefully picked up a small furry creature from the bushes.

"Oh god! How cute, it's a little kitten!" You squealed as you approached to get a closer look.

It was a little black and white kitten that looked slightly malnourished.

"Was he left by his mom? Is there any sign of her being around?" You questioned, peeking around the bushes for signs of the mom.

"I think he was left behind. It looks like he's been here for a while." König replied, staring down at the kitten with a wide smile.

"He's so cute Kö." You looked up to him with a matching smile.

The two of you stood there for a bit, oogling at the cat, before König blurted out, "I think we should bring him home with us."

Your eyes lit up at his words as you let out a squeal. "Really? You mean it?"

You'd been wanting a furry friend to keep you company for some time, as you often grew lonely during Königs deployments.

König nodded at you, beaming and grabbed a piece of cloth from his backpack to wrap the small kitten in. "Come on, little guy, we'll give you a loving home."

~

After getting the little one all his shots and a checkup at the vet, you brought him home. König adored the kitten and was ultimately the one who named him "Sylvester."

The two of them developed a strong bond, the kitten being overly attached to König. Sylvester followed him all over the house, slept with him, and never let König from his sight. Needless to say, he was, in fact, brought to a home where he was loved.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You were a frequent volunteer of your local animal shelter and decided to take Johnny with you on one of your trips when he was home on leave.

Johnny was over the moon, constantly going between the different dog kennels, playing with each and every one.

There was one, however, that he completely fell in love with. She was an older Pitbull mix who'd been at the shelter for some time. You watched as she came right up to him, tail wagging as Johnny approached her. She was often very shy with new people, so you were pleasanty surprised with how quick she took a liking to your husband.

"Babe, she's so sweet." He looked at you as you made your way into her kennel with him.

"She's been here since I started volunteering a few years ago. She's an angel. I really don't know why people haven't looked at her. Once she warms up, she has such a wonderful personality. " You smiled sadly as you crouched down to pet her.

The two of you were silent for some time, giving all your attention to the dog, when Johnny looked up to you, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You want her, don't you?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face.

He said nothing in reply, his smile only growing wide.

You chuckled softly, knowing this was bound to happen bringing him here.

"I'll go get the papers."

~

You brought her home later that day after going to a pet store to get supplies for her. You'd spent way more than you'd originally planned to, as Johnny kept adding stuff to the cart that he "insisted" that the pup would like.

After much deliberation on the name, Johnny's name choice had won. She was lovingly named, "Lassie".

John Price-

You and John were walking through your local supermarket, grabbing some groceries, when you passed by a small table with cats available for adoption.

You immediately stopped pushing your cart and approached the table, much to John's dismay. "Love, we are here for milk and eggs, not cats."

Waiving your husband's words off, you leaned down to the table to look at an elderly tabby cat.

"Interested in adopting him? He's a senior cat. He's around 11. His owner passed, and unfortunately, not many people are keen on adopting older animals." The woman behind the table told you, seeing you eyeing the cat.

"Oh, I'm just looking. He looks so sweet though." You replied with a sad smile.

The cat came up to you and rubbed himself against your fingers that were laid against his cage. You pouted at the action, your heart melting as the cat continued to rub his face on your outstretched finger.

John watched the encounter, and he felt his heart soften a little. He knew you were an animal lover and have been wanting a pet for a while. It wasn't that he didn't like pets. Rather, he felt they didn't like him. Shaking his head of the thoughts, he moved to join you.

Standing beside you, he reached his finger toward the cats cage.

The tabby immediately came to nuzzle against his finger, causing a smile to form on John's face. "Well... maybe we can talk about taking him home."

~

A few hours later, you guys brought the tabby home. He immediately got himself comfortable after a thorough inspection of the house. He took a liking to John right away and took a particular liking to licking at his beard. Which then earned him the name "Mutton Chops" from John.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were scrolling through Facebook when you had seen a post from your local shelter about a three-legged Husky they recently saved. The more you scrolled through all of the photos, the more you knew you wanted to meet the dog.

Running outside to where Gaz was tending to his garden, you promptly handed the phone to him, a wide smile on your face. "Look! Kyle baby, we have to get her!"

Gaz wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing your phone, a giant smile forming at the sight of the photos. "Oh my God, Y/N. She's so cute."

"Do we... want to go see her?" You asked, biting your lip. You and Gaz had talked about having a new addition to your family for quite some time, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring a pet into the equation.

There were about 2 minutes of deliberation that followed (there was no question that you both wanted her), and now the two of you were on your way to the shelter to meet her.

You both were over the moon as you were introduced to the Husky. Both of you knew the minute she hobbled over to you that she was going to be going home with you. She seemed to have taken a liking to the two of you as well, as it only took a few minutes for her to roll over and have you give her belly rubs.

On the way back home with her, Gaz had the biggest smile on his face that you'd ever seen (only competing with your wedding day). As she got settled in her new home, the two of you sat down to discuss names, Gaz ultimately choosing her name to be "Nova."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I try to do at least one request a day or every two days, so feel free to send whatever you'd like written!🩷🙃

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig mw2 #captain price #price x reader #soap imagine #soap mw2 #soap x reader #mw2 fluff #simon riley fluff #konig fluff #gaz imagine #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader

[meaningofaeons]

i absolutely love the way you write jing yuan! can you do some general domestic hcs for him? like him coming home after a long day at work and what'd you'd do together?

or on the weekend, where he doesn't have work, some cute sleeping in shenanigans before reader has to drag him out of bed

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ mundanities

⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 803 ⊹ notes - gn!reader

hi anon!! ty for the req!! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get around to it </3 hope you enjoy !!! (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)

Now, Jing Yuan is a man of dignity.

He's the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, for Aeons' sake. Though he may nap on the job occasionally, nobody would ever question his status and majesty.

Well, nobody except for you.

It's difficult to take him seriously when he's composed one minute on screen, delivering a speech to the masses with poise and honor, and the next thing you know he's practically flopping into your arms once he gets home, completely deadweight.

Even if you wanted to scold him for throwing himself at you, it's impossible.

The General looks like a puppy when he gazes up at you, sleep-ridden expression doing nothing to get rid of the shine in his eyes upon seeing you.

"I'm home, my dear."

And his honey-like voice soothes your senses the moment he greets you.

He sounds so unbelievably happy and relieved, it's adorable.

Jing Yuan doesn't really enjoy doing anything too excitable or bothersome after a long day at work.

Really, if he had his way, he'd spend every day (working or no) in your arms, snuggled up in bed. Maybe with Mimi cuddling you two as well.

He's not opposed to some activities, though.

If you offer a game of chess or a walk around the gardens of Central Starskiff Haven, it's unlikely he'd deny you no matter how tired he is

But sometimes he will have to gently let you down—especially so if he's already made his way to bed and can't bring himself to rise from the plushness of the mattress.

(If you do end up going out, halfway through the walk or chess game he's probably going to hang off your shoulder and start snoozing lightly)

Jing Yuan can nap and doze just about anywhere and everywhere, but when he's in bed, there's not a chance in Hell of waking him.

Let him hold onto you, though.

Even if he'd rather not do anything at all once he's off work, he's still quite clingy to you.

Will groan and grumble like a child if you need to go on an errand or some such

Tries very hard to convince you to just stay with him.

Please bend to his will!! He works so hard, just let him enjoy the time he has to snuggle up to you

Stroke his hair, run a gentle caress over his face, he'll melt into your touch

Odds are he either gets home very very late and it's time for bed anyhow, or he gets home midday/afternoon and sleeps enough to ruin his bedtime

If it's the latter, he might be the one to ask you to take a walk and admire the stars together, surprisingly.

Jing Yuan is like a cat in that he can kind of sleep as much as he wants to, but sometimes he appreciates going out with you more than cooping up inside!

Now onto the weekends... You can't tell me this man is the worst on days off.

No need to get up for work? To him, that's as good as 'no need to get up at all.'

Obviously, there's stuff to be done around the house, or he made a promise to train with Yanqing that he may have forgotten about once he felt your hand stroking his white locks in the morning...

Not to mention, not only does he not get out of bed himself, but he has a vice grip on you making it so you can't get out of bed.

"Jing Yuan, darling. I need the restroom."

"Mmm... five more minutes..."

"I'll come right back."

"Ugh..."

I swear, if you thought he was petulant about you leaving during his afternoon naps, he's a whole new breed of childish in the morning if you so much as scoot away from him a bit

Forget about getting him up to do any chores or run any errands.

It'd be a miracle if you yourself managed to get out and finish them.

Once you manage to escape his grasp and run the errands you need to take care of outside of the comforts of your home, you will in most cases return to a somewhat guilty Jing Yuan who has taken care of the household chores in your absence.

You had scolded him to get up and get ready to go ten times before giving up, so the guilty conscience it put on him was very deserved, but...

He may be a bit lazy, but he's far from a slob, and he's certainly not ungrateful enough to you to let the household work go unfinished in your absence.

Besides... once your warmth had vanished from beside him, he found it a bit easier to drag himself up.

He's quick to latch right back onto you when you get home, though.

#jingyuan #jingyuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #anon

[blueparadis]

so lovesick.

[ notes ] :: this was supposed to be only for aki , a drabble but i got carried away. it's been a while i haven't written on them. | redirect to blog navigation!

[ characters ] :: aki hayakawa & yoshida hirofumi. | word count :: 1kish.

[ ! ] :: f!reader, making love, boyfriend headcanons but not really, fluff, domesticity, live-in, some n$fw headcanons + scenarios, fwb!relationship , mention of $moking & drinking.

꒰ AKI HAYAKAWA ⁠꒱

+. lovesick!aki always sits beside her during dinner just to hold her hand under the table or rest it on her thighs while leaning to grab the seasoning, even after innumerable failed attempts to occupy both her sides by Power and Denji.

+. lovesick!aki never forgets to take his girl out to dates during weekends in the name of “just a change of air” , or “exploring new cafés in town” just to see the smile on her face while having the same flavored desserts. He never gets tired of it while it boggles his mind why isn't she tired of that same damn flavor yet?

+. lovesick!aki just can not take his eyes off her whenever she is tying her hair up in a ponytail with the same rubber band that he managed to get back from power after rounds of stone-paper-scissors. It does not matter if she is within his hand's reach or not, he is still gonna press a soft peck on her nape.

+. lovesick!aki likes to watch movies with her, preferably at home, during Fridays when power and denji are asleep in other room while he is deep under the covers with his hands under her dress, his chin on her shoulder and her eyes occasionally glancing at him whenever he bucks his hips forward.

+. lovesick!aki manages, at least, two bubble bath sessions with his girl in a month. Amongst those dim lights and scented candles he thinks that she looks even more beautiful, more wild and responsive under his touches. He does not touch her much but the feeling of her skin against him makes him so dizzy that all he can think is to touch her. But he doesn't since he has to listen to her, talking about her day. His responses are a trail of hums: “mm-hm.”, “i see”, “is that so?” & just lits a cigarette thinking maybe he can, just, blow the smoke in her mouth when she's done talking.

+. lovesick!aki loves to hold y/n’s hands during sex, be it making out or or kissing her by having her up against the wall. Be it missionary or reverse cowgirl : he likes this sight of her pretty calloused fingers, painted nails interlaced with his rough ones. “Fuck, baby. . .”, he rasps as she bobs on him with his cock inside her,“ you’re getting ~mhnm— good at— at this.position.” He amends while clasping her hands at the valley of her waist as he enjoys the view of her back, riding him in reverse cowgirl.

꒰ YOSHIDA HIROFUMI ⁠꒱

+. lovesick!yoshida has y/n’s phone number saved with a different ringtone for calls and different messages tone from others so that every time she messages his heart lights up with joy even if he can't get back to her right away.

+. lovesick!yoshida never tells her about his rough days because he thinks he might be worrying too much for him, and might end up leaving him but can not really deny it when he hears her soft voice asking, “had a bad day? Wanna talk about it? It's okay. I'll just listen.”

+. lovesick!yoshida likes the idea of her waiting for him before any dates yet he is always early, always the one waiting for at least ten to fifteen minutes. She's not late, he is just early. That's all.

+. lovesick!yoshida loves to see her in little revealing clothes, especially when he is around because, with every blink of his eyes, he will look at her, mind wandering about tonight's sex and thinking of the last night so that he could see the art he did to her skin and do more.

+. lovesickyoshida never forgets the fact that y/n hates taking pills. So, there are always condoms laying at the bottom of his backpack but the thing is she rarely lets him do it and in all honesty, he likes other things — other things such as tying her hands to eat her out while jacking off, or the other way around. He is ready to explore whatever territory she will introduce to him.

+. lovesick!yoshida loves to take her from the back because it just feels so good to be inside her, feeling her body trembling at each thrust, twitching when he bites her ears, and moaning when he shoots his cum in spurs.

@tokyometronetwork @public-safety-network

#yoshida smut #csm headcanons #csm hcs #aki smut #csm x you #csm x y/n #csm x reader #smut headcanons #smut hcs #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x female reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki hayakawa x y/n #yoshida x reader #csm scenarios #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsawman x reader #chainsaw man hcs #chainsaw man headcanons #csm smut #csm imagine #chainsaw man imagine #smut scenarios #smut imagine #csm #csm aki #csm yoshida

[navybrat817]

Sweetest Nectar

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Birthdays aren't a big deal to you, but Bucky gives you a reason to celebrate. Word Count: Almost 1.9k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, swearing, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Florist!Bucky will always be a comfort character to me and what better way to celebrate a birthday? I wish I could've done more for you lovelies as a thank you for your support. Thanks to @sweeterthanthis for the idea of Bucky feeding you cake while he...well, you'll see. 😉 Beta read by the beautiful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog , but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Each year you got older, the less inclined you felt to celebrate your birthday. It was simply another day and another reminder that you were getting older. You appreciated the messages and gifts from friends and family who provided them, but the day itself was nothing for people to bend over backwards for. Even having the sweetest boyfriend in the world didn't change your opinion on that. 

"It's just a day like any other. It's not a big deal."

"It isn't any other day, Petal. It's your special day."

You told your florist more than once he didn't need to do anything special for you. Naturally, he didn't listen and showed you a beautiful bed and breakfast he wanted to whisk you away to for the weekend after your birthday. It brought a smile to your face how excited he got about the layout and view. He even took screenshots of some of the highlights and sent them to you. It hit you at that moment that even though it wasn't a big deal for you to celebrate your big day, it meant a great deal to him.

Because Bucky is a passionate man and that extended to you.

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."

"The only tears you better cry are tears of joy, Petal," Bucky said, leaning up from where he was currently perched between your thighs. He had you stripped down the moment he walked through the door and already gave you more than one orgasm. "You okay?"

"I’m okay," you promised, giving him a reassuring smile as you brushed back some of the hair that fell in his eyes. He fixed his bun once, but you messed it up the moment your fingers twisted through the strands again. He was so beautiful. You did cry a bit earlier, but that had to do with the mind-shattering orgasm he gave you and how happy he made you. “Better than okay.”

Bucky had a bouquet sent to your place with the amount of flowers matching your age. Not only did it have a handwritten card with it, but he managed to get Ruth, Steve, and so many others to write sweet messages for you. You weren’t even sure how long it took for him to meet and get everyone to sign it. He brought dinner from your favorite restaurant that evening after you told him you weren’t making him cook for you, along with a nice bottle of wine and a beautifully wrapped gift. 

Which he hadn’t let you open yet. 

You were curious about what was under that pretty blue wrapping paper that sat feet away, but you knew it would be special. 

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

"Then say 'ahh'."

Obediently, your mouth fell open. His eyes darkened as his fingers slid over your folds, bringing the fork to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it the moment it was close enough, taking a moment to savor the delicious flavors on your tongue. Steve baked you a cake, your favorite, and your boyfriend took great pleasure in feeding you bite by bite.

He also took great pleasure by feasting between your thighs.

"Delicious?" he asked, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick the wetness away as you finished your bite. Arousal swirled in your gut like he didn't make you come minutes ago. "Better than sex?"

"It might be," you teased as he tried to pull away, grabbing his wrist to hold him still and lick away the remaining icing from the fork. “Tastes like heaven.”

He growled playfully as he set the utensil aside, throwing a thigh over his broad shoulder to open you up more to him. “You taste like heaven,” he argued. Every nerve ending came to life as he licked his lips and stared at your glistening pussy. “The sweetest nectar.”

It's my birthday, but he's looking at me like I'm the gift.

You were desperate to feel his tongue again, digging your heel into his warm back to pull him closer. He was kind enough to strip down when he yanked your clothes off earlier. The scent of his cologne and the shop lingered on his skin, mixed with the remainder of the baked goods that sat feet away. Your already overwhelmed senses yearned for more.

You let him push your other leg to the side more, the metal tender against your skin. The hand that created so much beauty when it could so easily destroy. The same hand attached the man who brought you to life. You swallowed when you gazed down at his handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling before he winked at you. 

You drive me crazy, Bucky.

You moaned and writhed when he dipped his head down to push his tongue in, his hands easily holding you in place so he could get a proper taste. Your body still as wet and slick as before, as if it knew it belonged to him. A hand went to your breast, gasping when you realized how sensitive your nipples were. Every part you felt sensitive, but it only fueled your need more. You hadn't realized you pushed your pussy into his face more until his chuckle vibrated against your hole.

"See? You know you taste like fucking heaven, which is why you want me to have more. Don't you?"

"No, I don't taste like heaven," you moaned, arching to push your aching breast against his palm more. 

He licked over your clit, circling it with another growl. "Take that back or I may have to give you birthday spankings."

"Is that a threat?" you giggled, your body shaking more. "Oh, no. Not birthday spankings!"

“I’ll put you over my knee,” he threatened, sucking gently on the bundle of nerves.

“I’ll wiggle my ass,” you teased, reaching down to yank on the soft strands of hair as he sucked harder. He teased your soping hole with a fingertip, not pushing any deeper.  “Fuck, fuck. Fine, I taste delicious. Sweest fucking nectar you’ve ever had.”

He hummed in satisfaction before he buried his tongue back inside you, sliding his finger in as well. He greedily licked up what your body so freely offered. His talented mouth and fingers made you get lost in the feel of him, your body trembling as he cared for and loved you. It was the first time in a long time that you actually wanted attention today.

You're giving me everything I didn't know I needed.

Your head fell back as he began tracing a pattern with his tongue, helpless to the onslaught. "A-Are you spelling 'happy birthday'?"

Your thighs trembled as his hand slid from your breast down your torso, moaning in response as he continued to form the letters along your walls. If he hummed along, you'd be close to seeing stars. You practically leaked at this point, his fingers and tongue soaking up every drop that they could. You prayed he didn't try to give you as many orgasms as your age. 

I'm brave, but I don't have a death wish. Or do I?

Bucky added another finger as he pulled back, his lips and scruff wet as you panted. "You're so fucking beautiful. Should treat every day like it's your birthday," he murmured, casually grabbing another bite like his fingers weren't knuckle deep inside you. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? Let you soak my face before you soak my cock? C'mon. One more bite."

Your toes curled as you let him place the cake in your mouth. If you choked and died this way, you were going to haunt his ass until he joined you in the afterlife. You managed to chew and swallow before you nodded, which was a feat considering you were on the edge of your orgasm. 

"That's my good girl. Prettiest girl with the prettiest pussy. Fuck, you're gonna let me ruin you," he praised, quickly putting the fork down so he could get back to work. "I know it isn't my birthday, but I need you to come again. Please, Petal. One more on my tongue. Let me taste that sweet fucking nectar and I'll give you my cock. I know you want it."

Fuck, yes. I want it. I want you. Please, please, please, Bucky.

Your trembling increased as he slipped his tongue back in, your walls pulsing faster. When his fingers curled, brushing that spongy spot inside you repeatedly, you snapped. You cried out as the waves of pleasure threatened to drown you once again, Bucky's groan of delight adding to the erotic melody. He didn’t let up as you rode it out, eagerly drinking all of you up.

You didn't realize he stopped until he moved up your body a minute later, his tongue tangling with yours as you tried to even out your breathing. The faint taste of the icing and your release made you moan as you cupped his cheeks, some of the wetness from his face smearing along your chin. He placed a gentler kiss on your lips once he let you breathe properly, pulling you into his arms and staying close as you came down. 

“Wow,” you sighed, nuzzling his neck.

“Still think Steve’s cake is better than sex?” Bucky smiled as he rubbed your back.

“I don’t know. I haven’t had your cock yet today,” you smiled back as you lifted your head. You weren’t expecting to see a bit sadness swirling in his eyes. “You okay?” you asked, echoing his earlier question.

“I know you didn’t want to make a big deal about today, but I really wanted you to feel special,” he explained, kissing your forehead. “I don’t think flowers and cake are enough.”

“What? How are those not enough?” you questioned, breaking through the haze of ecstasy. “You got me a nice dinner, a beautiful card with kind messages and a gift, too. And not an electronic card. You had to hunt everyone down to get those written,” you pointed out.

I’m never throwing it away.

“It still isn’t enough,” he huffed.

He’s pouting and I’m so in love.

Your heart swelled when you touched his cheek, wondering how and why of all people you were lucky enough to have him. “Bucky, it’s more than enough. Those gifts are special because they’re from YOU. Not to mention, I’m spending the evening and upcoming weekend with my favorite person. You knocked it out of the park.”

He blushed a bit, giving you a small smile. “I did?”

“Best birthday ever,” you swore, giving him your pinky so he’d loop it with his. “Promise.”

His eyes lit up, pressing a soft kiss to the entwined fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thank YOU.”

For everything.

“Ready for me to prove why sex is better than cake? Then you can open your gift?"

“Sex? But there’s still more cake,” you smiled as he pulled you in for another kiss. Your beefy, gorgeous man treated every day like you were his world and today further cemented how much you meant to him. You’d let him shower you with affection each year on your birthday he wanted to.

And you would make sure when his birthday rolled around that you would celebrate with the same kind of love.

*****

Catch up with our beefy florist here. We'll see him again soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #florist!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #florist!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #florist au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 7 **

You might want to put aside some time for this, I somehow managed to write 10k...and the second half is like all smut, almost.

Took me a while to get this out, it was kinda meant to be a filler chapter but then I wanted to add more so I ended up moving things around in the story line so now we've got this one. Next chapter will see their relationship move forward with leaps and bounds and then we get into the really juicy bits!

Please enjoy and if you do, please reblog so that more people see the fic, I'll love you always if you do

If wanna catch up from the beginning, here is chapter 1 of The Pilot and his girl

Chapter 8

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer

Sometimes you think back on other guys you’ve dated. The guy who wanted to be able to call you up whenever he wanted sex and always got mad when you weren’t around to supply, the college guy who never wanted to touch you in public, the older guy who ‘forgot’ to mention his wife and two year old son, the guy who cheated on you and then messaged all your friends and told them he’d dumped you because you’d cheated on him with his boss. And that didn’t even cover all the ‘normal’ guys who just wanted to play the game, date and have sex but never commit or say what they actually felt or introduce you to their friends or family. 

And then there was Frankie Morales. Sweet, loving, loyal Frankie who never seemed to hide what he was thinking or wanted to play games. Who never made it difficult or made you guess what he felt or what his intentions were. He was just always happy to be with you, to see you and to let the world around you know that he belonged to you and no one else. Who would kiss you in public just because he felt like it, took your hand as soon as you were near, and never hesitated to include you in his plans. Being with Frankie was easy and you finally started to understand that dating someone shouldn’t be non-stop drama, it should be easy and that’s how you knew it was right. 

And Frankie slipped into your life as easily as he let you slip into his. After your first few dates he made it clear that he would happily spend as much time as he could with you, the only other priority in his life being his daughter and you happily took a back seat to her. Frankie was always a bit low when he came back from seeing her, or she’d spent a weekend with him, his guilty conscience about not seeing her enough always on his mind. But he was also full of stories about her, his eyes beaming, a wide, proud, smile on his face, as he told you about what they’d done, the things she’d said and how much she’d grown or what new skills she’d learnt. She was the centre of his universe and you didn’t mind, she grounded him and made him happy and a better man. Both for her and for you. 

When Frankie wasn’t working or went to see Lucía, your weekends were spent mostly in each other’s company. He’d pick you up on Friday evening and take you out ‘properly’, as he said. He’d show up in his truck, freshly showered after work and in a clean shirt. If he’d ditched the cap you knew he’d made plans for a more upscale restaurant. If the cap was firmly pressed down over his, still very, unruly curls, you knew he was taking you on one of his special Frankie dates. 

The first time you’d expected maybe a cool food truck or local BBQ place when he said he’d made ‘special plans’, your expectations from previous guys were not exactly high. But instead he’d taken you to a secluded spot up on a hill, parking the truck and walking with you through the forest on a small path until the trees fell away to a cliff overlooking a lake. Stuck into the ground was a small sign that read “Reserved - Morales” that made you giggle at the thought that he’d hiked up here earlier, just to place the sign. Frankie had then produced a thick blanket from his backpack, a lantern, a camping stove, various containers and bottles and proceeded to cook you dinner while the sun set behind the forest on the other side of the lake. When dinner was done with, and you’d expressed your deep astonishment at how romantic he was, Frankie blushing to the tips of his ears, he’d wrapped you both in the blanket and leaned back against a rock with you tucked in against his chest. 

“You’re setting the bar very high for all the other guys, Francisco Morales,” you hum as you feel the cool tip of his nose brush against your cheek. 

“What other guys, hermosa?” he mutters, lightly kissing the tip of your ear. 

“All the other guys in general,” you lean into his warm lips skating along your neck, “once word gets out this is how Frankie Morales treats women, who’s gonna want a regular guy?” 

Frankie chuckles quietly, his rich, warm voice close to your ear. “I don’t treat women like this, only you, solo tu hermosa mujer.

“See, there you go again, setting the bar impossibly high,” you smile and push your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck, scratching his scalp and drawing a soft moan from him. 

When the night became too cold even for the blanket and the Frankie shaped furnace at your back, he’d held your hand as you walked back, his powerful torch shining the way through the pitch black forest. At any other time the thought of walking through a dark forest would’ve made you slightly panicky, but with Frankie’s warm hand in yours and his broad shoulders in front of you as he easily navigated the path back to his truck, you felt as safe as you did at home in your bed. 

It was easy, being with Frankie was the easiest thing of them all. 

…

You woke up with a groan on Sunday morning, six weeks or so into dating Frankie. You’d been out the night before with friends and now you were paying the price; dry mouth, headache and that horrible shaky feeling as you moved your limbs. You were definitely never, ever drinking again. You were in Frankie’s bed but he was absent so with a groan you pushed the covers aside and sat up carefully. 

As you sat on the side of the bed, contemplating death, you heard Frankie’s bare feet coming down the hall, pushing open the door. 

“Morning, my little ‘I’m not drunk’ girl,” he smiled, far too cheerful and you groaned again and fell back into bed, pulling the covers with you as Frankie chuckled. 

“Just stay in bed, hermosa, I’ll get you some water and coffee, and breakfast whenever you feel up for it.” 

“Thank you,” you mumble from under the covers. 

“Anything for you, I love you,” he says as he bends and kisses the covers over your head. 

Oh yeah, you said that last night too.

…

Towards the end of your night you’d met up with Frankie and his friends at a bar. Your friends  were heading home, and you probably should’ve done the same, but you wanted to see Frankie and you’d promised to call him before you went home. He was the designated driver for the evening, as most evenings. Frankie didn’t like tempting fate with too much alcohol after he got clean from the coke. 

“Mi hermosa, hi,” came his warm, smiling voice over the phone when he picked up, and you immediately heard someone shush loudly in the background. 

“Sssshhhhh, everyone, ssssshhhhh, it’s the girlfriend, sssshhhhh!” The drunken voice of Benny was easily recognisable in the background.  

“Hi Frankie boy,” you cooed, definitely a little bit more than tipsy, “and hi Benny,” you giggled. 

“Tell her to come here,” Benny’s voice was suddenly very close, “I need her as my wing woman!”

“Benny, for fuck’s sake!” It sounded like Frankie had to pull his phone away from his friend as he shuffled away from the table they were all at, chairs scraping across a floor. 

“Sounds like Benny’s a little bit drunk, baby,” you give him a tipsy giggled again. 

“Sounds like you’re a little bit drunk too, cariño,” Frankie chuckles. “Do you wanna come over, we’re at the usual place.” 

“Only if you want me to, I don’t want to crash boy’s night.”

“You should definitely come over, I wanna see you this drunk,” he laughs as you protest and claim to be only slightly tipsy. “Get yourself in an Uber, and send me the details so I know when you get here.” 

“Ok, Frankie boy, always so responsible,” you pout and give him a salute before you remember he can’t actually see you through the phone. 

“Just be safe, hermosa,” he smiles before he hangs up. 

He’s waiting outside for you when the Uber pulls up, opening the door of the car and giving you a hand as you step out. 

“Hi sweetie,” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck, stumbling slightly on the curb, as Frankie catches you around the middle. 

“Hey there, not drunk girl,” he smiles down at you and accepts your wet kiss to his lips with a chuckle. “How’s your night been?” 

“S’been good, everybody came, even Hannah who always cancels because her kids are sick.” you say as Frankie guides you towards the door of the bar. “And we got free drinks from a bunch of guys who were trying to hit on us, but their loss, because we’re all taken,” You pull him close and place a kiss on his cheek, “You’re my Frankie boy.”  

“Did you accept their drinks?” Frankie’s got a worried look in his eyes that you don’t notice as you shrug your jacket off as the heat of the room hits you.” 

“Yeah, sure! It was free drinks. It’s not like they were gonna get anything in return.” 

“Cariño, you shouldn’t accept drinks from random men in bars, what if they slip something in it? You’ve got to be careful.” He’s got his arm around your waist, walking you towards the table where the guys are. 

“Wait,” you stop halfway across the bar, poking his chest with your finger, “you were gonna buy me a drink when we met, are you saying I shouldn’t have accepted that?” 

“Uh…I mean…” Frankie flounders, “technically, I guess, no?” 

“You’re so cute when you blush, sweet Francisco,” you gush, wrapping your arms around his neck again and standing on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose, “I know I shouldn’t accept drinks from random guys, baby. But free drinks!” you grin again and Frankie can’t help but chuckle when he sees your delighted grin. 

“My tipsy girl,” he smiles, “we should get some food in you.” 

“Nachos!” you exclaim as Frankie puts his hand on your back and ushers you towards the table and the guys again. 

Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as Frankie pulls out a chair for you, and Will gives you a grin from across the table. 

“Hey, there she is!” Benny whoops as you sink down on the chair, “My wing woman!” He attempts to high five you but you’re too focused on telling Frankie you want the biggest serving of nachos they’ve got, and Benny’s hand slaps down on your shoulder instead, making you jump. 

“Jeez, Benny, calm down,” Frankie scowls and knocks his hand off your shoulder. “I’m getting nachos for the drunk girl, anyone else want anything?” he asks. 

“Nachos and drinks, if you’re offering,” Pope says and Frankie nods, heading back towards the bar. 

“I’m really not drunk, just a little bit tipsy,” you tell the three guys as Frankie walks off. “He’s being very overprotective.” 

“I heard that,” Frankie calls from over his shoulder, making you giggle loudly and snort.

“Well, you’re in good company here,” Will nods at Benny who’s slightly red eyed appearance betrays that he’s by far the furthest one gone at the table. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Benny taps your arm excitedly, looking at a table towards the back of the bar, not paying attention to his brother, “Can you help me get that blonde over there? Like, walk over to her or something and tell her I’m great in bed and she should totally let me buy her a drink.” 

“What Benny?! No!” you protest, “I’m not lying to some poor woman, I don’t even know if you’re good in bed.” You give Benny a slightly unfocused once over, “Are you any good in bed?”  

“I’m totally good in bed!” he insists, “I’d prove it but you know…Fish would literally kill me dead.” 

“Ewww!” you exclaim, sending Pope and Will into a laughing fit as Benny blinks, trying to figure out if he should be insulted or not. “Sorry! That came out wrong!” you grab on to his arm, “I mean, you’re cute and all but just not my type, I like - “

“We know what you like,” Pope interrupts with a grin, “you like ‘em dark haired, brown eyed and tanned.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you snort out a laugh. 

“I mean, I can’t deny that, but I like my men taller and with less body hair, Santi,” you smirk and Pope tries to look insulted. 

“Ouch, going after my height, evil woman,” he huffs, but he’s still laughing. 

“You got the right one then,” Will chuckles, “Frankie’s got less body hair than a hairless cat.” 

“Why the fuck are you talking about my body hair?” Frankie says, coming back to the table, sending Benny and you into a laughing fit and Will just waving his hand. 

“Forget it man, not important.” 

Frankie raises his eyebrows and gives his head a slight shake as he sets down the nachos and drinks for the table, although you’re also getting a large glass of water. 

“Are you riling them up, cariño?” he asks, smiling down at you as you try to pull him down for a kiss that he willingly gives, your lips tasting of tequila and wine, oh, you’ll be hungover for sure in the morning. 

“I’m innocent,” you smirk, looking anything but and Frankie chuckles. 

“Move, baby, sit on my lap, there’s no extra chair.” 

You happily oblige, sitting sideways across Frankie’s lap, his warm arm around your waist, holding you tight. 

Nachos and beers are soon gone and Pope gets everyone a new round, getting Frankie a Coke that he tries to make you drink instead of the beer Pope got you, but not having much success. Benny’s trying his luck with the blonde across the room and Will and Pope decide to shoot some pool while you and Frankie watch from the table. Despite there being several empty chairs now you stay on Frankie’s lap, his legs are slowly falling asleep but he won’t make you move, he’s got you tight against his body, and your arm is draped across his shoulder, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the curls around his neck at the edge of his cap. He hums contentedly as your nails scratch his scalp and you feel the rumble in his chest. Looking down you see his eyes slip closed, he always has trouble keeping them open when you play with his hair. He’s not asleep but his muscles relax and his head slumps forward, leaning against you. 

Gently you pull his cap off so that you can run your fingers through more of his hair, Frankie mutters his consent and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, warm through the thin fabric of your top. His soft curls slip under your fingers as you run them through his hair, the buzz of alcohol in your system making you sleepy, Frankie’s warm body making you feel safe and content. You bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head and with your lips still close to his hair it slips out.

“I love you.” 

Frankie’s eyes snap open and he pulls back from your chest, looking up at you, searching your eyes to see if you mean it or if you’re just too drunk. 

“What did you say, hermosa?” he asks softly as you look down at him, a small, uncertain smile on your lips. 

“I’m sorry…” you waver, “it just slipped out, it’s too soon and I’m drunk and it’s -” 

“I love you, I love you too,” Frankie interrupts, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he pulls your lips to his, “don’t be sorry,” he mumbles against your mouth, “I would’ve said it weeks ago if I had the guts.” 

His hand slips behind your neck, holding you to his lips, as you wrap your arms around him. His heart is racing, he can feel your smile against his mouth as you press yourself against him and it feels like millions of tiny bubbles are gathering inside his chest, pushing up through his throat and making him grin like a fool against your soft lips. The kiss turns sloppy as you both start to giggle, foreheads leaning together, you look into his warm, brown eyes that are crinkling at the corners. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you say, still smiling so wide you feel like your face is splitting but happy tears are threatening to spill out. The way Frankie is looking at you makes you feel like he just wrapped you up in a blanket, tucked you against his chest and enveloped you with his love, making you his axis point. 

“I love you too, hermosa,” he replies, “I love you so fucking much, I wanted to tell you when you took my hand after I told you about all the shit in my life, but I was scared it was too much. And when you still wanted to be with me and the first morning you woke up with me, you told me how amazing you think I am…” Frankie reaches up and strokes his thumb over your cheek, catching a tear that’s escaped from your eyes, “I almost said it then too, I really wanted to tell you then, but I chickened out..” 

“You should’ve said it all those times, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand over his, still on your cheek, “I would’ve said it back, but I thought it was too soon. I thought you’d run a mile if you knew how fast I fell for you.” 

“Not in a million years, hermosa, never.” He pulls you in, catching your lips in another kiss, slow and searing, making you part your lips so that he can taste you, despite all the alcohol. You feel his tongue, soft against your own, as he moves to kiss you deeper, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you firm against him as you hold onto his shoulders, and push your fingers into his hair. You’re in your own bubble, only you and him, and the noises of the bar fades away as you hum against his mouth, the taste of him, his tongue, overtakes your hazy mind. 

…

You stay under the covers, you can hear Frankie moving around his kitchen, making coffee. You remember him taking the guys and you home last night. The truck had been full, the guys in the back and you tucked into Frankie’s side in the front, falling asleep against his shoulder as he dropped the others off first. You vaguely remember Frankie gently scooting you out of his truck and picking you up. You’d woken up when he had to put you down to dig out his keys, his soft voice telling you to stay awake as you leaned on him. Finally he’d gotten you both into his place and he’d tucked you in under the covers of his bed, the last thing you seem to remember is him taking your shoes off. 

Now he pads back into the bedroom with a bottle of water and a large coffee. 

“Here, cariño, drink the water first.” 

“Thanks, Frankie, you’re more than I deserve, I was way too drunk last night,” you moan, gratefully taking the water bottle from him. 

“You’re a very cute drunk,” he smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed as you pull yourself up, leaning against the headboard and taking a long drink of water. 

“And I love you too,” you say, putting down the water and taking his hand, “I remember that part at least.” 

Frankie chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your palm, “I was a bit worried you’d said all those sweet things and then forget about it. 

“Never, Frankie,” you smile, “how could I? I just wish I hadn’t blurted it out when I was drunk...” 

“It was very sweet, hermosa, alcohol clearly makes you honest. I need to remember that,” he pulls you towards him with a big grin and you lean against his chest, breathing into his clean t-shirt, fresh cotton and the smell of just him underneath it. If you weren’t so hungover you’d pull him back into the bed with you, he feels good next to you, warm and solid, his little belly soft to the touch as you absentmindedly run your hand over it and listen to his heartbeat under your ear. Frankie’s hand is rubbing up and down your back and you can feel his breath against the top of your head where he's leaning his chin. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says after a little while of enjoying just sitting together in silence. The slight hesitation in his voice makes you lift your head and look up at him. He’s got that worried look in his eyes, and it makes you mirror his look, raising your eyebrows in concern as he goes on; 

“Lucía is supposed to come here next weekend, she’s staying Saturday and Sunday. And you can say no if you think it’s too much but, but I really want you to meet her, if you want?” 

“You know I’d love to meet her, Frankie” you say, sitting up so that you can look properly at him. His expressive eyebrows immediately shoot up in a relieved look. 

“I know, I just wanted to make sure,” he says, “I’ve…I’ve never…let her meet a girlfriend before and I wanna make sure you’re fine with it too.” 

“I’m absolutely fine with it, sweetie,” you rub his arm, wanting to reassure him that it really was fine. “If you want, we can start easy though, maybe? Just tell her I’m a friend of yours or something and we keep the PDA to a minimum around her?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” he agrees. “I haven’t talked to her mom yet either, it’s not like I need her permission for it or anything, but you know, just so that she hears it from me and not Lucía afterwards.” 

“I won’t stay over at your place when she’s here,” you stretch your arms up, yawning big and Frankie pushes the coffee mug into your hands with a smile. “We’ll just hang out a bit,” you say, “I don’t wanna intrude on your father - daughter time, I know you feel like you don’t see enough of her as it is.” 

“You could never intrude, cariño,” Frankie protests, “hang out with us as much as you want. Although, four year olds can be a bit rowdy so you might need to work on your stamina,” he chuckles. 

“I know how to handle four year olds,” you grin, “I just buy them the loudest toy I can find and be their new best friend.”

“That’s just evil, just pure evil,” Frankie groans, “every parent's worst nightmare, you would never.” 

“I would never do that to you, Frankie,” you smile and accept his hand as he pulls you out of the bed. “But my brother’s kids, absolutely.” 

“Remind me to never piss you off, cariño,” Frankie chuckles as you make your way into his small kitchen where he’s got breakfast laid out. 

Right from the start Frankie had claimed he couldn’t cook and his mom’s brownies was the only thing he could bake. You’d quickly figured out that the ‘can’t cook’ line was more a show of Frankie’s insecurity rather than an actual thing. And he excelled at breakfast, making both blueberry pancakes, omelettes and smoothies so good you’d rather have his breakfast for every meal of the day than anything else. The first time you had his pancakes, made from scratch and not a box mix, you’d eaten four in one go and not even felt bad about it. Frankie’s smile when you kept asking for more was worth the bloated feeling you had for the rest of the day. He admitted he’d taught himself to make them because they were Lucía’s favourite food and the thought of Frankie looking up pancake recipes online to be able to serve his daughter her favourite food made you almost teary eyed. The more you got to know him, the more you saw of his big heart and soft side, the more it became difficult to equate the man you now knew, with the man who had been in Delta Force and displayed such skill at violence in the bar that horrible night. 

There was one thing that betrayed his background though, his nightmares. Frankie said he had them less these days but there were still several nights where you’d been woken up by him thrashing around in the bed, crying out incoherently. A few times you’d been woken up by Frankie throwing himself on top of you when his sleep hazy mind thought there was a threat in the room and you had to be protected. Sweet on one level, but on those nights it took you both a long time to go back to sleep, Frankie’s adrenaline spiking high and your own heart rate going through the roof after being so brutally woken up. You were grateful that he seemed to need to hold you as close as possible on those nights, it made it easier for you to fall back asleep with his heavy arm draped across your waist or chest, pulled in so tight that you could hear his heartbeat, feel it slow down as he calmed. 

The next morning he’d wake up in a dark mood, feeling guilty about scaring you and bringing his issues into your life. You soon figured out that the best way to get him past his sullen thoughts was to pull him down on the sofa and make him lay back, resting against you. That way you could hook one arm around his broad chest, make him tip his head back on your shoulder and then scratch his scalp with your fingertips. His mind would stop racing, he would feel your heartbeat under his body and your fingers softly scraping through his curls, slowly realising that you weren’t leaving, that he wasn’t scaring you away by showing you the darker sides of himself. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m such an idiot, it’s just me and my stupid brain causing trouble,” he mumbled while your fingers worked through his hair. 

“You’re not an idiot, Frankie,” you gently admonished him, “you know why your brain gives you nightmares, you’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure, “ you press a kiss to his head and he leans towards you. 

“My sponsor always says I should tell people close to me what’s going on when I start spiralling out of control, but that’s always been the hardest thing.” 

“Why is it hard?” you ask, still brushing through his soft curls, willing him to relax against you. 

Frankie shifts under your arm, turning so that he can press his face against the side of your neck, you feel him inhale deeply as he stretches his arm across your chest and pulls you closer. 

“It took me a long time to figure this out,” he says in a low voice, “I feel like I fail when I lose control, fail my family, my friends, anyone I wanna be close to.” His voice is muffled, pressed up against you as he hides his face, “I feel guilty about failing so I don’t ask for help and then it gets worse, I fall into to bad habits and that makes me feel like more of a failure and that makes me feel even more guilty and then it just spirals out of control.”

“What do you think will happen when you tell those you love about losing control?” you ask in a soft voice. You’re leaning your cheek against his head, feeling his breath fan across your neck and chest as he draws a deep breath. 

“That you’ll leave me, see what a fuck up I am and realise I’m not worth the effort.” You can barely hear his low whisper, it cracks at the end, and your heart clenches, your hands leaving his hair as you wrap your arms tight around him, burying your face against his soft curls. 

“Never, Frankie, never.” You squeeze him, willing him to understand how much he’s come to mean to you in this short time. “I don’t know what happens in the future but I can promise you that I’ll never leave you because I think you’re not worth the effort. And don’t say that about yourself, you’ll always be worth the effort, Frankie,” you lean back, putting your hand on his chin and tilting it up so that you can look at him, his eyes are distressed, the usually soft look, pained and tight. “I’ve already told you I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known and even if you spiral out of control and your demons get the better of you, I won’t leave because I know how good you are, what a great man you are and what a great father you are to Lucía.” 

Frankie closes his eyes as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, a long breath escaping with a shudder, as if he’d been holding it in.

“I’m always scared I’ll fuck things up with her,” he says when you pull back from his lips. “How am I gonna be any kind of role model to her when this is what I’ve done with my own life?” 

“Frankie, you idiot,” you smile softly at him, and he looks confused. “You’ve had a passion for helicopters since you were a kid right?” He nods and you continue, “So you found a way to become a helicopter pilot, a very difficult profession that takes enormous dedication and skill. You then got sucked into the fucked up system of the military, and saw some horrible things. Things that any normal person would consider fucked up and have trouble processing, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess, bu- “ 

You stop him, “You didn’t get any adequate help to deal with your PTSD so you found a way to deal with it yourself. A stupid way, sure, but you had the willpower to get your shit together when it became about someone else but you, your daughter.” 

Frankie just nods, his eyebrows pulled up in that tight little knot you’ve seen so many times. 

“Don’t you get it?” you say, “you’ve already proved to her, before she was even born, that she’s the center of your universe and that you’ll do anything for her and that she can do anything she wants. All she has to do is to look at how you’ve managed to get through some of the most fucked up shit.” 

Frankie looks at you as you stroke the lines between his eyebrows with your thumb, smoothing them out. “Frankie Morales, you’re amazing, and if you keep thinking you’re not I’ll have to smack you,” you smile at him and you see the corners of his mouth twitch up, “or I’ll get Pope to smack you,” you say and Frankie smiles properly, his face changing into that soft smile you’ve always loved. He drops his head down on your chest again, his nose pressed against your throat. 

“I’d like to see him try,” he chuckles as he wraps his arm around you and pulls himself on top, looking down at you. 

“Thank you,” he says, using your real name as if to emphasize, “I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you in this one.” 

“Maybe you saved my life somehow,” you smile and stroke your thumb over the bare patch in his scruffy beard, “and now you get to have incredible sex with me as a reward.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, pulling up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe I wanna claim some of that reward right now.”

…

On Friday night, before Lucía’s coming to stay, Frankie picks you up for your date wearing no cap, but a white dress shirt with his dark jeans. You open the door and do a double take, holding out one hand in front of you to stop him, as you shamelessly admire the view. 

“Damn, Frankie…” you purr, letting your eyes travel down from the v of the open neck, the smattering of freckles dark against his tanned skin and white cotton, the wide shoulders that stretch the fabric when he crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame with a smile, his forearms on display where he’s rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and all the way down over his slim hips and lean thighs under the black denim. 

“Are you taking me out to dinner, or are you delivering yourself for dinner?” you ask, giving him a wicked smile as you hook your finger into his shirt and pull him closer. Frankie chuckles and brushes his lips against yours. 

“Maybe I’m here to make a meal out of you…”

“Cheesy,” you giggled into his mouth, “but I’ll definitely remind yo-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his hand into your hair and sealing his lips to yours, licking against your bottom lip before he gently sucks on it. A jolt of electricity immediately shoots down your spine and settles between your legs, the sheer promise of what he could deliver had you trembling. A moan escapes you as he pushes you against the wall and lets his thigh spread your legs, the friction shoots another jolt through your body and Frankie knows exactly what he’s doing. You can feel him move his thigh, the thick muscles giving just a taste of what his fingers would do later, and with a crooked smile he pulls back, both from your lips and your legs. 

“Frankie…” you moan, chasing his lips, but he chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. 

“Let's get actual dinner before I make a meal out of you, my greedy little girl.” 

With a pout you follow him out the door but when he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck in the elevator on the way down you melt, you were never really upset. “Who says I’ll keep my hands off you, hermosa,” he murmurs, “the restaurant is really dimly lit.” 

…

The place Frankie has picked is a new place you’d mentioned a while back and you squeeze his arm tightly when you realise that he’s made a reservation especially because he knew you wanted to go. He’s even requested a table at the back where the restaurant has a few tables in small window nooks overlooking the river. The waiter seats you and lights the two candles in the windows and in the small hanging chandelier over your heads, casting the whole table in a soft light. 

You sit down in the middle of the plush bench that curves under the windows, and Frankie sits down close to you, rather than opposite. You’re sharing a corner at the table, and even though there’d be more room if you sat at opposite ends, none of you are moving, least of all Frankie. Instead you feel his hand on your leg, slipping up under the edge of your dress, as soon as he sits down. His hand is hidden under the table cloth and although he lets his hand rest on your thigh for now, you’re fairly certain he won’t let it stay there.

The waiter returns to take your orders and while you’re asking about the fish dish Frankie’s fingers start moving, gentle little circles on your thigh but steadily moving up along your leg. You steal yourself to not let his touch get to you while you talk to the waiter, sitting perfectly still in your seat as you ask about the evening’s special. You can feel his fingers creep further up your leg, starting to tickle the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. From the corner of your eye you can see Frankie innocently studying the menu but you can also see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As the waiter finishes with your order he turns to Frankie and as soon as the waiter’s eyes are off you, Frankie squeezes the inside of your thigh. Not hard, but enough to make your limbs clench together as you shudder from the jolt of heat that shoots through you, settling between your legs. Your involuntary spasm makes the waiter look at you again and you pretend to reach for the breadbasket as Frankie struggles to keep a straight face.

As soon as the waiter leaves Frankie turns to you with a mischievous grin and moves his hand further up your thigh. 

“Hermosa,” he purrs as you try to scowl at him, “your skin is so soft and grabbable right here.” He kneads the plush flesh of your inner thigh as you try to ignore the way it feels as he sinks his fingers into you. 

“You’re a menace, Francisco Morales,” you glare and he leans in on the table, propping his chin up with his free hand, so that his mouth is only inches from your lips. He continues to draw shapes on your skin as he looks at you, his face softening into an innocent look, big brown eyes looking at you like he’s only adoring his girlfriend, not slowly moving his hand up to brush the edge of your panties under the table.

“Why would you say that, cariño?” he asks, smiling as you clench your jaw when his finger tips nudges at your legs, beckoning you to spread them, and you obey without hesitation. “Am I distracting you from the nice view?” You scowl at him again but you can’t hide your smile and Frankie closes the last bit of distance between you and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, letting it brush along your cheek as he captures your lips with his. 

The kiss is soft and demure, anyone looking will only see a couple in love sharing a tender kiss, a sweet moment together. Frankie’s free hand takes your hand on the table and your fingers entwine, but under the table his fingertips are slowly brushing over the thin lace in your panties, feeling the dampness his touch is creating. He traces the slit under the fabric and grazes over your clit, making you quake against his lips, and you feel his mouth pull up in a smile. His tongue quickly darts between your lips as the pad of his thumb rubs with more pressure against the spot, pulling a soft moan from you as you lean into him. With a chuckle Frankie pulls away, moving his hand down your leg, and when you open your eyes to protest you see the waiter walking over with your drinks.

“I’m gonna get you back for this, you know,” you mumble and Frankie gives you a look of perfect innocence as he thanks the waiter for the drinks. When he leaves Frankie takes a sip from his beer and over the brim of his glass his eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. 

“I think I’d like that, cariño, why don’t you try right now?” 

“No, I think I’ll pick a moment you’ll enjoy less,” you smile back at him, taking a sip of your own drink. 

Frankie leans forward, his hand falling below the table again and you quickly cross your legs as his hand touches your knee. 

“Ah, c’mon, cariño,” he coos, caressing the top of your thigh, edging under the hem of your dress again. 

“Keep your hands on the table, Francisco,” you give him a stern look that only makes him grin and scoot closer, leaning in so that he can skate his nose along your jaw, his lips brushing up against your ear, his hot breath tickling you. 

“Mi hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips barely touching your skin, “I want to touch you, feel if you’re as wet as I think you are.” He moves his mouth down and you feel the tip of his tongue slip out and lick across the spot he knows makes you shiver whenever he touches it. “I wanna to feel your sweet pussy tighten around my fingers as you think about what I’m gonna do with my mouth later.” 

His words make your eyes close as a shiver goes down your spine, heat pooling rapidly between your legs. And Frankie knows, he knows exactly what his dirty talk does to you. And now he continues to whisper how he wants to push your dress up over your hips, spread you before him and taste your sweet pussy, all the while his hand gently nudges your legs apart under the table. You feel heat rising in your cheeks as his fingers brush up over the soaked material in your panties. He’s telling you how good he knows you taste, how he loves the feeling of your pussy clenching around his tongue as he pushes into your tight hole. 

“I know you love how my nose rubs against your clit when I bury my face between your legs, hermosa,” he murmurs and you bite your lip to stop a moan escaping. Outwardly he’s still just whispering sweet nothings to you, a loving boyfriend nuzzled against the neck of his love, under the table his fingers have slipped past your panties and are pushing into your pussy, his thick index and ring finger stretching you. You lean forward on your elbows, tilting your head towards him, hiding your face from the room. Frankie’s teeth scrape against your skin as he curls his fingers back inside you, rubbing against the spot he always seems to find so easily. The thrill of him fingering you in public has your cheeks burning, your jaw is clenched tight to stop yourself from panting. Tension is building inside you as Frankie’s breath fans over your skin. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he whispers, “I wish I could get down on my knees and lick you, tug that sweet little clit of yours into my mouth, make you come on my face just like I did - “

Frankie suddenly pulls back, footsteps approaching your table, his fingers slipping out of you as he sits up. 

“Alright, I’ve got the grilled tuna for the lady and the lamb racks for the gentleman,” the waiter says, placing plates on the table. 

You’ve still got your face turned away, cheeks burning as you calm your breathing. Frankie’s hand comes up and genty cups your chin, a soft smile on his face, as if you say he’s got you, and not at all sorry that he’s got you on the edge of an orgasm in the middle of a crowded Friday night restaurant. 

…

You barely make it to the truck once you're done with the meal. The thrum of your near orgasm is still humming through your body and Frankie’s warm arm around your waist, holding you close, makes you want to duck into an alley and risk getting caught for public indecency. You stop him and cup his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss, letting your tongue slip between his lips as his large hand cups the back of your head. You feel his other hand sliding up your back, pressing you against his chest and you lick into his mouth, tasting him and the chocolate he had for dessert. Heat shoots through your body as he presses his hard on into you, he’s trying to create friction to give himself some relief but the way your body reacts, a low moan slipping out, only makes him harder. With a groan he pulls away, grabbing your hand and almost drags you the last bit to the truck. 

It’s parked on a side street and you pull him against you again when he takes you around to the passenger side. Slipping your hand in between you, you palm his cock through his jeans, Frankie grumbles, dropping his head on your shoulder and letting his mouth kiss your neck.

“I need to get you home, hermosa,” he murmurs, his face buried in your hair. “I wanna get you out of this dress so badly.”

 Letting your fingers trace the outlines through the fabric, you circle around the tip pressed against the zipper and Frankie’s breath hitches, his teeth sinking into your neck, sucking against the skin. Behind your back he opens the door to the truck and manoeuvres you so that he’s got his arms at your waist. With casual strength that takes your breath away he lifts you up, setting you down on the bench seat, and for a second you think he’s going to climb up after you. Instead he stops, one foot up on the step, his gaze dropping to where your knees fall open, he’s got a perfect view and his eyes go dark. His hand grabs your thighs, pushing you further into the truck and pushing them wider, the tip of his tongue comes out and licks his bottom lip, before he tears himself away, looking up at you again and inhales deeply as he steps down and closes the door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the effect you had on him and he notices your smile when he pulls himself into the driver’s seat. 

“What are you giggling about, cariño?” he says, buckling in and starting up the truck. His hard cock is straining against his jeans, and you scoot closer to him, cupping your hand around it. 

“Nothing,” you say, “nothing at all, sweetie,” but you smile when you see his jaw clench as soon as your palm presses against his cock and his voice is strained when he replies.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna have to park the truck somewhere dark before we get back to my place.” 

“Would you like that, Frankie?” you ask in a low voice, leaning in so that your breath tickles his neck and you see goosebumps break out on his skin.

“If you’re asking if I wanna fuck you in my truck, then, fuck yes. But let's save that for a date where I can do it properly, and not in the corner of some Costco parking lot.” His voice is a dark rumble as he looks over at you, pausing the truck at a stop sign. His unruly curls are creating a halo lit by the street light behind him and it reminds you of the first time you were in his truck. Him driving to the airfield with you and you’re struck by how much has happened since that first day with Frankie. 

“Remember when we were first in your truck together?” you ask, mirroring the gesture you did then, lifting your hand to push it through the soft curls on his head. 

“I do, vividly,” he smiles, leaning into your hand, “I told you to do that again when we weren’t in any vehicles I would crash.” 

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.” 

“I did, and I wanted to kiss you right then, but it took like three more tries before I got my chance.” Frankie chuckles as he puts the truck in drive again. He lifts his arm so that he can put it around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you take your hand from his cock, not wishing to cause any accidents, resting it on his thigh instead. 

“Put your hand back there as soon as we’re inside the apartment, please,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, making you giggle and squeeze his thigh. Your sexual energy is still thrumming in your nerves but they simmer lower as you lean against Frankie, feeling a different kind of energy in your system. 

This man makes you feel safe, comfortable and wanted. You drop your head against his shoulder, relishing in the way his sheer presence wraps you up in a cocoon of happy content, as if his solid, calm energy makes your body relax and sink into him. Frankie’s own self doubts and nerves never seemed to seep out of him, he pulled them into himself, you could see in his eyes when he was pulled under by his negative thoughts, but the energy he gave to you was always solid, like a rock holding you steady. 

“You’re my rock, Frankie,” you say, as you wrap your arm across his waist, hugging him tightly. 

“Your rock, cariño?” he smiles, dropping his eyes from the road for a second to look at you. 

“You’re solid like a rock, making me feel calm when I’m with you, like you can handle whatever happens and keep me safe.” 

“I don’t know how much of a rock I am, I’ve struggled with keeping myself steady for most of my life,” he says, his voice a little doleful. 

“I know, but somehow you still manage to make me feel like you’re the most stable person in the world.” 

“You mean boring,” Frankie snorts, “should I be insulted?” 

You slap him playfully and shake your head, “Anything but boring, Frankie, just…you make me feel calm, and relaxed, when I’m with you. And happy. Very, very happy.” 

You feel him tighten his arm around your shoulders, “Mi amor,” he mumbles, his lips pressed to your hair as he keeps one eye on the road, “you make me very, very happy too.”

…

The mood changes as you get to Frankie’s apartment, riding up the elevator he nods up at the security camera in the corner and you resort to snuggling into him, keeping everything PG. But the second he’s got you over the threshold he cages you in between his arms against the door, his long body pressed up against yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck as his mouth finds yours. 

“Longest fucking dinner of my life,” he murmurs against you, his hips are flush against your belly and the hard line of his cock twitches between you. “Would’ve pulled you out of there and actually fucked you in my truck if I hadn’t waited three weeks for that reservation.” 

“You’re such a romantic, Frankie,” you smile, grabbing hold of his curls and pulling him back a little so that you can see his dark eyes, his eyelids half closed and a greedy look on his face. 

“Put your hand back on my dick, please, hermosa,” he husks, rolling his hips so that you can feel his cock more firmly. Keeping a hold on his hair so that you can look at him you snake your other hand between you and cup it over the hard bulge in his jeans, stroking it firmly with your eyes locked on his. His lips curl up almost as if he’s in pain and a dark groan slips out between his parted lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his pupils are wide and half hidden under his eyelids. You repeat the motion, adding your nails, rasping them over the bulge and Frankie’s head falls back. 

“Fuuuuck….” he moans, louder this time, “fucking feels so good but I’m about to break the zipper, cariño,” he pants. 

You tug at his hair, “Eyes on me, Francisco.” The use of his full name snaps him back as you palm him again, using your nails, and the look in his eyes sparks something inside you. Leaning in, close to his ear, you nip lightly at his earlobe, pulling a soft gasp from him. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, “do you like it when I tell you what to do?” The groan from deep in his chest is answer enough, and when you lean back, looking at him again, his jaw is clenched and he’s got a strained look on his face. 

“Tell me what to do, hermosa,” he grates out, his hips still against your palm cupped over his aching cock. His eyebrows are tightly knitted, his dark eyes fixed on your as he swallows hard, but he doesn’t move. 

You smile, the thought of having Frankie obeying your orders turns you on more than you thought it would. He’s always in control when you have sex, apart from the last few minutes when he loses himself, pumping into you as he chases his orgasm, he’s always in control. He always makes sure you come once or twice before he thinks about himself, he’s always thinking about how to give you as much pleasure as possible and seems to get as much out of it as you do. But he’s always called the shots, until now. 

“Frankie…” you purr, pulling your hand up from his dick to stroke your fingertips over his patchy beard, “this is new, I can call the shots tonight?” 

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want me to do,” his face is less strained now that your hand isn’t caressing his aching cock but his tone is still a dark groan

“Take me to your bedroom, Frankie,” you say, testing the waters, although this is hardly a difficult one. 

With a swift motion he bends and puts his arm behind your knees, the other at your back, picking you up as your arms wrap around his neck for purchase and he walks through the dimly lit apartment.  

“With the risk of sounding like a cavewoman,” you giggle, “your strength always turns me on, I forget how strong you are until you pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

“Maybe I should pick you up more often,” Frankie grins, pushing open the door to his bedroom. “Tell me, what do you want me to do with you now?” 

“Put me down,” you say and he gently sets you down on your feet and you sit down on the edge of the bed, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Take your clothes off for me, Frankie.” 

He grins and starts rolling down the sleeves of his white shirt before unbuttoning it, revealing more tanned skin as he moves down. 

“The thing is,” you say, your eyes shamelessly watching him slide the shirt off his wide shoulders, “you’re always in control when we have sex. Making sure I come first, making me come several times before you even let me touch you.” Frankie gives you a proud smirk while his hands undo his belt and slides it out, dropping it on the floor next to the shirt. “And tonight, I wanna do the same to you.” You watch as his hands still, his zipper halfway down. 

“Don’t stop, Francisco,” you tell him. “You take your pants off at the last moment, when you’ve already got me spread out on the bed, coming down from you eating my pussy. I wanna watch you properly this time.” At the mention of him eating you out he narrows his eyes and you see the pink tip of his tongue peek out between his lips, his eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. 

“Maybe later, Frankie, if you’re a good boy,” you smile and his eyes find yours, the greedy look in them almost makes you want to drop your game and let him take control again. But instead you watch him push his jeans down over his narrow hips, catching his socks at the same time as he steps out of them. He stands up, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his snug black boxers, looking at you with his head tilted to the side and a crooked grin. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You bite your lip, it’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s looking so good standing in front of you and he knows you’re cracking. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Francisco,” you manage to press out. 

The boxers are stretched over his rigid cock, doing nothing to hide the sheer size of him or how aroused he is. When you first had sex with him he was a bit self conscious, both about his body and the size of dick. Any qualms about this size you’d dispelled the first time, he knew you loved how he filled you up and you let him know it, loudly. His hang ups about his flat butt and soft belly were harder to dispel, but now he’s standing in front of you without any nerves, confidence oozing from him as he drags his boxers down his hips. He keeps his eyes on you as they slide over his cock, making it jump out as the elastic pulls over the tip. You’re flitting your eyes between his boxers and his face, your tongue peaking out without you noticing, licking your lips as he drops the boxers and strokes himself a few times with languid passes. 

“Lie down on the bed, Frankie,” you order him, standing up so that he can stretch out and lie back. He puts his hands out for you, trying to pull you down on top of him but you smile and slip away from his hands. 

“Patience, Frankie boy,” you purr and swat his hand away from your leg as he grins. 

You’ve still got your dress on and you see his cocky smile fade away as you give him the same view you just got. You’re wearing the black wrap around dress he loves and as his dark eyes watches, you untie it at the waist and let it fall open, pulling the ribbon out of the dress. 

“Hermosa,” Frankie moans, “you’re so beautiful, come here, let me touch you, please.” 

Shrugging it off your shoulders you step back up on the bed and straddle Frankie’s thighs, his hard cock jutting up towards his stomach just in front of you. 

“Not yet, my sweet Frankie,” you coo, “I know you want to taste me, make me come with your face buried in my pussy, but not yet.” 

Frankie’s jaw clenches and you can see his hands grabbing hold of the covers as you sit down. He’s desperate to touch but determined to let you guide him this time. The black lace panties and bra you’re wearing aren’t helping, it’s his favourite set. You’d asked for his advice when you bought it a few weeks ago and his cock had twitched when he thought about seeing you in it, wrapped like a present for him. Now you’re hovering above his erection, wearing that set, leaning down over him as your hand closes around the base. 

“Cariño,” he grumbles with a shiver as your breath ghosts over the head of his cock, it’s already weeping, drops of precum collecting at the slit. “Please…” 

“Please what, Frankie?” you smile, leaning closer to the tip, sticking out your tongue, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes are black, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at where the tip of your tongue traces the slit of his cock. When you make contact he moans, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Please, hermosa,” he pants, and you lick your tongue over the head, collecting the salty liquid as he groans and bucks his hips again. Your mouth sinks over him and he’s fisting the covers, fighting the urge to grab on to your head, instead he watches as his aching cock disappears between your lips. He can feel the head gliding along the inside of your mouth as you take him deeper, your tongue licking along the length, teasing along the swollen ridges and veins that thrum with heat. Saliva drips from your mouth, down over his cock and you use it to slide your hand up and down him, easing the friction over the part that’s not in your mouth. 

Heat is building fast in his belly, your mouth is a hot vise around his cock, taking more and more down your throat as he gasps and groans, screwing up his eyes when he can’t watch, when he gets too close to coming. He’s rambling as he shivers underneath you, praising your mouth, your tongue, your hands. When your nose brushes against the wiry curls at the base of his cock, the head bumping the back of your throat, he cries out, begging you for release. 

“Please, you’re so good to me, let me…oh fuck you feel good,” he stutters, his voice catching as you close your mouth around him, dragging your lips along his length as you increase the pressure.

“Fuck…your mouth…hermosa, your mouth, make me come, let me come in you.” He opens his eyes again, looking down at you as you sink your mouth down over him again, you can taste his precum on your tongue, more of it leaking out. 

His hips are jerking up, he’s breathing fast as he whimpers and you lift your eyes to him, meeting his gaze. Seeing him like this, his mouth hanging open as he whines, looking wrecked, he screws his face up as if he’s in pain, makes you shudder, your panties are soaked, every one of his moans and whines going straight to your core. 

You sink down deeper over him, your tongue licking every inch of him as you take as much as you can, letting his cock brush against the back of your throat again as you move your mouth up and down his length, stroking the slick base with your hand coated in his precum and your saliva. 

Frankie lets out a broken growl, “fuck, cariño, ple…please…I’m gon - “ his stuttering turns into shout as you feel the first burst of thick liquid coat your tongue, he’s jerking his hips, his hands fly from the sheets and tangle in your hair as he pumps himself upwards, your mouth closing tight around his pulsating cock, milking his spend as it shoots out of him. Frankie’s whole body tenses up, his back arching off the bed, the corded tendons on his neck stretch and tremble when he throws his head back, a cry as if he’s in pain tearing itself from his throat. 

You continue to stroke him through his climax, looking up at him, seeing his throat strain as he pants, groaning through his high. His thrusts grow slower and you let your mouth drag along him, softening your lips as you let him pump the last of himself over your tongue, ending with a small kiss on the tip of his sensitive head. He relaxes and looks down at you again, seeing your mouth come off him and you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. 

“Help, I can’t move,” he groans softly and you smile at him as you crawl up his body and lie down in his arms. 

“I liked that,” you say, wrapping an arm over his chest as he pulls you in close. “I see why you like eating my pussy first, it’s a rush to have that power.” 

“Don’t get used to it, cariño,” Frankie smiles, “I’m not giving it up so easily.” 

“I’ll get Benny to teach me how to bark orders like in the military, you seem to like me bossing you around.” 

“Only because I let you,” he pokes his finger into your side, “I wanted to see if you had it in you.” 

“Bullshit!” you splutter and almost sit up, but Frankie’s arm tightens around you and pulls you back down. “The second I used your full name you caved.” 

“I hated hearing my full name in the army, it meant I was in trouble. But when you say it, cariño lindo…I melt.” 

“I know, Francisco Morales,” your giggle turns into a squeal when he suddenly grabs your arms and flips you over. 

“Ahora, mi hermosa,” he murmurs as he sinks his mouth to your neck, “now it’s your turn.”

Chapter 8

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #sweet frankie morales #smut #fluff

[americas1suiteheart]

Here's the link for the whole series on Ao3 if you prefer to read it there :)

Weird Science | Chapter II

Egon Spengler x Reader

[Notes; This is a shorter chapter and is kind of a filler I guess, but I promise there's more the next one. There is no summary for this.

[Warnings; Some foul language and that's about it.

Part 2/? | <Previous Chapter | Next Chapter>

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

Ring, Ring, Ring, Ri-!

You run from the other room to get the telephone, nearly tripping over some of the boxes scattered throughout your apartment. You answer the phone, picking it up and holding it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Y/n! Hey its Ray. I was calling to see if you wanted to swing by our research area sometime this week? Me and the guys have been working on something but hit a bit of a roadblock and need help getting it fixed or changed up soon," Rays voice rings out excitingly through the phone.

"Hey Ray! Sure I can, but it'll probably have to be either tomorrow or Friday, I'm kinda stuck moving some of the boxes out to my apartment right now,"

"That's fine, Y/n. Also, how do you feel about getting some drinks with me and the guys this weekend? I figure I can reintroduce you to Peter and Egon again. I think it'd be fun if you aren't too busy," Ray suggests.

"Great! I wouldn't mind going with you guys, I think it'd be nice especially with all this that's goin' on right now too," You say, twisting the telephone cord in between your fingers.

"Great! How about you come on over Friday and after we finish up we can all go down to a bar for the night. The work shouldn't take too long."

"Yeah that works, I'll see you Friday then. Bye now,"

"Bye Y/n, see you Friday." Ray says, then hanging up the phone.

You place the phone back into its holder, then walking through the stacks of boxes to get back to organizing them.

I forgot just how much fun it was to talk to friends, why did I ever loose touch with all of them? Especially Ray.

You pick up a box labeled Motherboards and Breadboards, scribbled out in messily neat handwriting, picking it up and placing it on top of the boxes labeled Wires.

You had only been moving your stuff out for two days now, so regardless of the amount of shit you had in your apartment currently, you still weren't done and there was unfortunately plenty left in what used to be your lab.

You go to turn on your radio, tuning it to a radio station that played some of your favourite stuff and luckily managed to catch it just as a song was about to play.

-bzzt!- "...You're listening to 97.5 FM, the top radio station where you can get all of the newest -bzzt!- hits! Here's Everything She Wants from Wham's new album 'Make It Big'!" -bzzt!-

You make a mental note to remember that you need to buy another radio, as the speakers on yours were starting to give out.

"Somebody told me, "Boy, everything she wants, is everything she sees" I guess I must have loved you, because I said you were the perfect girl for me, baby,"

You danced as you organized more of your boxes. "Where on earth am I going to put all of these?" You said to yourself, putting your hands on your hips.

"Somebody tell me, o-" -pop!- -fzzt!- Your radio began to pop and spark, and it finally gave out with some mild vapor coming out of it.

"Shit! No, don't give out on me." You sigh, unplugging the radio from the port and trying to fan away the smoke.

'As if my week couldn't get any worse right now. I'm starting to look forward to Friday more and more.' You think to yourself.

You run your fingers through your hair, deciding to take a nap so you could try to calm yourself down.

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

You wake up, stretching and letting out a groan. You look at your bedside clock. 7:47 PM, the clock read.

You get up and head into your kitchen to make dinner. You grab a pot, a can of tomato soup, some bread, and a couple slices of cheese.

Grilled cheese and tomato soup couldn't really be considered the best dinner but its what you had. that's another thing you needed to add to your list. New radio, more groceries.

You add the can of tomato soup and a can of water into the pot and turn the heat on. You get four slices of bread and four slices of cheese out, placing them onto your cutting board as you go to grab your skillet and some butter.

You walked back into your living room to turn on your answering box to listen to any messages you might've gotten while you were napping.

-beep!- "You have- 2 new messages" -beep!-

You walk back into the kitchen to make your grilled cheese, turning the stove on for the skillet and putting two slices of butter on it to melt.

"Hey, Y/n! It's Sarah. I wanted to call to tell you that Mark and I are engaged now! How awesome is that, right! I'll have to talk to you about it when you actually answer your phone. I'll talk to you later, bye!" -beep!-

You smile to yourself, it was always good hearing from Sarah, you never got to talk to her often and you were happy that she finally got engaged with Mark. It might be better to meet with her to congratulate and talk to her, you'll call to tell her that later.

"Hey, Y/n. It's dad. I heard about what happened at the University and I want to say I'm sorry, Kiddo. If you ever need help with anything or just want to come and hang out with your old man you can always come over whenever you want. I hope you feel better and, uh, yeah. I love you, stay safe." -beep!-

It was always so nice to hear from your parents. You hated to say it but it was even better when you heard from your dad rather than your mom. You'd always been daddy's little girl though. You need to go and visit them very soon, you forgot just how much you missed them.

You take both of the grilled cheeses off of the skillet and turn of the stove for both the soup and the skillet.

"Hey, Y/n, it's Ray again. Good and exciting news; me, Venkman, and Spengler got actual evidence that phantoms and ghosts are real and even got an ectoplasm sample. Not so good news; we've all been kicked out of the University today. I guess the Dean decided he was done with us in the same week. Anyway, just wanted to sha-" -beep!- "Time limit exceeded." -beep!- "You have no more messages" -beep!-

"Shit. I hope they're okay." You say to yourself, taking your plate and bowl to place it on your kitchen island.

Your home didn't feel all that cozy now with all of the boxes scattered throughout your apartment. Though you guess it never was to begin with.

There were only the bare necessities. A bed, a chair next to the island, pots and pans, food, a small television, a table where the television and phone sat, and a few other kitchen appliances. You were always at your lab so you didn't feel the need for a couch, things for hobbies, or anything else that wasn't completely necessary, though you guess that a television wasn't exactly necessary.

You sit at the island and eat, turning on your television and putting on the news. Nothing interesting to say the least, just the same boring thing as everyday.

You sigh and clean up the mess from your food, walking them and putting them up to dry. Turn off the television and head into your room to go to bed again.

Though it sucked to have been fired from the University, you had a lot of time to relax now, to sleep a normal amount of time for the first time in years. But the downside of it is that you were bored. So incredibly bored, this was also the first time that you had nothing to do in years to occupy your hands and mind. It was awful.

You finally fall asleep after letting your mind wander, thinking about how you never would have had to let Thallman go work with another professor if you would've just done something else to not piss of the Dean.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

This was a shorter chapter and I'm actually being smarter about making chapter fics, making two of them at a time so people don't wait ages for one individual chapter to be released (And I'm terribly sorry for that, guys), and I'm sorry for the pace that this is going. But the next chapter is going to have more, I promise. I'll stop the ranting for now, I do hope you enjoyed it, though.

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #spengler x reader #ray stantz #peter venkman #winston zeddemore #dana barrett #janine melnitz #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1984

[muertawrites]

The F Word (Eddie Munson x Hopper!Reader)

Warnings: needles

unofficial sequel to this request

"Hold still, short stack."

Eddie says the words quietly, barely above a whisper. He and El sit on the living room floor of your newly rented apartment in Indianapolis, she and Will having come for the weekend to visit you. He's got his hair knotted in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, held in place by one of your scrunchies. His tongue pokes out a little the way it does when he's focused. He's unfathomably beautiful in this moment, but you can't let yourself indulge in it for how nervous you are.

"Do you think your dad's gonna freak?" Will asks you in a whisper.

"If he does I'll take the blame for it," you reply. "But I can't see him getting mad over something like this. It means a lot to her."

Eleven squirms a bit, swallowing hard.

"I know," Eddie murmurs. "This way hurts a little more. But you've got it. You're tough."

She clutches at his calve, her nails digging in; he doesn't even flinch, letting her use him for support.

"... You ever hear the myth of Perseus and Andromeda?" he drawls after a moment.

El shakes her head. You suppress a smile, knowing this is one of his favorites.

"Well, long story short," Eddie narrates, "this guy, Perseus, is in love with this girl, Andromeda. And it kinda differs depending on who you ask - in some versions he saves her, but in others he's out trophy hunting to get on her dad's good side. Anyway. Perseus has to kill Medusa, a powerful woman who can turn men to stone with her gaze. She's got snakes for hair, too. Kinda looks like me. When he kills her, Andromeda wants to see her face, so he takes Andromeda to a well and shows her the reflection of Medusa's severed head so she doesn't get zapped by her murder vision. They fall in love looking at each other in the water."

He dabs gently at El's wrist with an alcohol soaked cloth, causing her to clench her teeth.

"Now, that story's super fuckin' romantic and all," he continues, "but I've always had a soft spot for Medusa. The human world fucked with her because she was different, and they made her into a monster for protecting herself. She was wicked strong, too, killed her enemies with just a look. She was too badass to go out the way she did. I've always liked the idea of her taking Perseus's head off instead."

Eddie peers up at El for a split second, giving her a knowing wink. She grins at him, her pain momentarily forgotten.

"You like monsters more than heroes," she notes.

"Hell yeah, I do," Eddie confirms. "Monsters are way cooler. Heroes are just fulla themselves. Monsters make for better stories."

He clears his throat, honing back in on his work.

"... I do still like the original, though," he muses. "It's nice to think that even if Medusa really was the creep everyone said she was, Perseus loved Andromeda enough to risk his life for her. And that something really scary and horrific brought them together. Beauty and love came out of the ugliness of their ordeal."

Eddie manages to distract El long enough that he finishes without so much as another gasp from her, drawing the needle away and cleaning the newly inked flesh with a broad, shimmering smile.

"Done," he announces. "Whatddya think?"

In place of the digits tattooed on her wrist, now there's a minute image of a medieval shield, drawn by Will and copied by Eddie with stick and poke tools into Eleven's skin. She stares down at it in awe, rotating her arm as of to make sure it's really there; really permanent.

"I love it," she breathes.

She bounds for her feet, rushing over to the kitchen counter where you and Will sit, showing off the new tattoo. You can already hear what your dad will have to say about it - that she's too young, what the hell will the school think, how could you let that delinquent mark her up like this; all the angry, overprotective stuff he's good at - but you don't care. It's been a year since Vecna was destroyed, the last remnants of El's horrendous past along with him. You've all healed - your scars have faded, Will no longer has nightmares, Max is out of the hospital, Jim's put on the weight he lost in prison, Eddie and El's hair now touches their shoulders. But she still had that brand, a constant reminder that she wasn't raised to be human.

So you did this for her. And looking at her now, the relieved, beaming smile on her face, it's worth any ire your father could possibly throw at you.

Eddie sidles up next to you, having left the now sterilized equipment on the counter next to the sink; he leans his body into you, smiling proudly as he moves in for a kiss. You grin as you release his hair from its knot, gently gripping the nape of his neck as his lips mesh with yours.

"Thank you," you whisper as you pull away.

"Nah, no need for that," he says softly. "She's family. Gotta look out for family."

You peck his lips, smiling into the kiss and humming softly as he pulls you in for another.

"Didn't think you'd ever use the F word," you tease.

He chuckles.

"Yeah, well. This F word is pretty fuckin' rad."

💀 masterlist 💀

#brings greek mythology into normal conversation #eddie munson #muerta's works #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fix it fic

[razor-tits]

A very long and over due life update.

So, to start this off I guess I need to back up. Let's start in October. It feels like yesterday but also a lifetime ago. Things were...ok I'd say. Boring, routine, the only shake up was my hormones ran out and my job was changing our insurance, so I had to cancel my follow up appointment for bloodwork and a refill. But then I got some bad news from my parents.

My dad had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He was ok, but he needed surgery. First they thought just a stent, but then decided he needed a triple bypass. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, but we're kind of distant. I live a few hours away and only see them around the holidays but we talk on the phone weekly. My dad can lean a little on the conservative side but both of them are the absolute salt of the earth. They're done so much to help me and I felt powerless to be able to help. I couldn't leave work and felt like there was nothing I could do.

The next couple weeks were rough, my dad was staying in the hospital, my mom was going back and forth staying with him and taking care of my grandma, who is in her late 80's and has a litany of health issues. On a Friday I finally managed to make the drive home and spend the weekend there. Seeing my dad laid up in a hospital gown tied to machines is something i'll never forget. He could get up and move and acted like he was ok. But he's one of those guys you meet and you think he's invincible. The kind of guy that put a new roof on our house with a broken finger and can't turn away a stray animal at the door. Some family members I hadn't seen in a long time came and went over the weekend. Thoughts of our own mortality set in and I realize this could be the last time I see any of them.

I've lost people before. Some of them suddenly and unexpectedly. Others who's death was almost a sigh of relief after fighting for so long. I never got to say goodbye when my friend died and I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I don't want to feel that again, ever.

The day of surgery came. He was in the OR for 3 hours but it felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. A few hours after that my mom and I were able to see him. He was extubated already, which was a good sign. But he was on heavy medication, incoherent, coming in and out of sleep. But he knew I was there and that's all that mattered.

I had to leave and make my way back to my parents to get my dog, and then make the 2 hour drive back to Ohio and go back to work in the morning. At this point I knew my dad would be ok, he just had to get through recovery. But now thoughts of my own health were worrying me. I'm not in the best shape, I don't exercise or work out. I've already had surgery to fix stomach problems. Everyone on my dad's side has heart problems, and everyone on my mom's side has cancer and diabetes. There's not much I do to prevent any of that. I'm in my 30's and I feel it, maybe more than I should.

Over the next couple months my mental health continues to fall. I had a birthday and spent it sick, as I always seem to do. It's always a rough time of year for me. Seasonal depression kicks in, I get older, and another year passes. My dog, my best friend, the reason I kept myself alive, is getting old. I see it more and more every day and it breaks my heart.

The holidays came and went. I saw my grandma for the first time in a few years. Always wondering if it will be the last. Despite that, this year I never felt less in the holiday spirit. I used to love this time of year, now I desperately try to enjoy it, but part of me just wants it to be over. The best part seems to be a few days off work.

At this point it should be noted I have not restarted hormones. My identity has always been more in flux than i've let on, and maybe that needs to be it's own post, but I don't know if I want to start again or not. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my goals are. I don't know who i am. Beyond basic hygiene, I really don't even feel like taking care of myself most days. I pretty much always feel melancholic. I'm not angry, I don't get excited, I don't have much joy. My sex drive is non existent and I have no desire to do...well, anything.

New year's comes and I honestly couldn't care. It feels like another day. My gf and I go out and have an Ok time. I'm just so tired all the time it's hard for me to go out and enjoy myself like I used to.

And then, a couple days ago my landlord calls. We have to move out. Not sure when, but probably soon. I'm heartbroken and panicking over it. We absolutely love our house. We've only been here about a year and a half but it's been wonderful. It has plenty of room, privacy, it's quiet. We can leave our doors unlocked and packages aren't stolen off our porch. We're allowed both of our dogs and all 3 of our cats with no issues. We've invested so much time and money here. My gf is close with the owners and their children, who were the previous tenants. We even thought about trying to buy this house off of them when their other kid moves out of the downstairs apartment. And it's affordable. Anything else like what we have now will cost double and we can't afford that.

Our last apartment was tiny, cramped, dark and ran by an awful property investment company. And now we have to deal with that again. If we can even find a place where we can take 5 animals. We can hide 2 of the cats, but not all of them. We're in no position to buy nor do we have the time to go through the process. My gf said we may have to find 2 different apartments and live separately for a while. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. I can't live without her, I can't live without our pets. We're a family. I don't know what to do.

Since I got the phone call I've done nothing but panic, contact rental agencies and weigh my options. None of them are good. Best case scenario is we move in a smaller, worse place, paying more rent.

Nothing is going right for me. I know this isn't insurmountable and nothing that people haven't gone through before. But...god damn I need a break and I can't get one.

#i just needed to vent #dont reblog

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Remember a Time X

Series:  (Pt.1), (P.t 2), (P.t 3), (P.t 4), (P.t 5), (P.t 6), (P.t 7), (P.t 8), (P.t 9) Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader ;) (High school Au ) No Powers Word count: 1907 aproxx A/n: It's me again for the few of you still keeping up with this little story. I present you with an update. One should be up next week I mean it this time It's done just needs editing. Anyways hope you enjoy I'm really trying to get past this writers block, thanks for being patient <3

There was officially only two months left till you moved to California, and time felt like it was flying. Both you and Natasha had been apartment hunting, unfortunately you couldn't find a suitable apparent for the two of you, so you both opted to search for apartments individually. You were bummed at the beginning but soon realized that it would facilitate things for the both of you. More so your dad knocked some well needed sense into your head. As much as he liked Natasha things could end badly and then you'd both be stuck in a bad situation. It was for the best you had decided. "You know, I'm basically going to be living with you on the weekends and when I don't have class. We survived being a continent away. We'll survive a couple of miles." You nodded confidently, agreeing with her. "I'll survive. Not sure you will, with your horrible cooking skills." You jabbed.

She laughed, but then the reality set in. She wouldn't have her mothers cooking, and now she wouldn't have yours which paled in comparison to Melina's. But yours was still better than hers. "That's actually so unsettling. What am I going to do? I can't cook I'll actually somehow poison myself." You chuckled lightly. "I'll just have to teach you the basics, you know nothing compared to Melina's cooking but you know the basics." She smiled somewhat relieved at the prospect of you teaching her to cook. Melina had tried many times throughout her daughter's life, but she simply gave up. Her patience wore out and Natasha couldn’t blame her for that. "I would actually really appreciate that." You nodded. "Well in that case, every day till we move at the end of the day we'll practice." You shook on it. Other preparations had to be made, but mostly everything that you could handle was done. Your parents had actually already gone out ahead of time to set up your apartment with all the things you'd need to live comfortably. Your parents only really wanted you to focus on the academics of it all and for you to enjoy yourself in the process. 

"Natasha we're two weeks into this!" You exclaimed when you looked into the pan only to see the 'scrambled eggs'. "What's wrong with them this time?" She asked, frustrated. "They're going to be really crunchy nat." You said, you could visibly see pieces of shell sticking out. "That's just personal preference, I happen to like my eggs crunchy." You laughed. "You didn't burn them this time so we're making progress. I'm proud." You started looking at her sweetly. "Do I get rewarded for this 'progress'?" She asked teasingly, tilting her head a small smirk on her face. You pretended to think about it. You rushed and kissed her, and before she could really think about it you started peppering her face with small kisses. With one final peck of the lips you smiled softly. "If this is what I get for progress, I'll start practicing all the time." She joked clearly, still flustered. "You'll get a nice surprise when you serve me a thoroughly cooked piece of chicken." You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. At that Natasha did manage to laugh.

Although you wanted to, you couldn't spend every waking moment with Natasha. So you and Tony would be found making future plans and arrangements. "We have to do Christmas again like last year." He said fondly. You smiled and nodded. "Let's do New Year's. I kinda actually want to spend this Christmas with our families." You were thinking and planning for your future self. "I think I'm really going to miss my folks when I'm gone." You said. "Not me, I couldn't get away from them any faster." He teased, and you laughed, Tony always had a good poker face. But, you know deep down he's going to miss his [arents too although he would be seeing his more often than you would.. "But your choice if you want to do a family Christmas this year that's what we'll do." You almost laughed at the change of tone. "You know I think Pietro is doing a thing later today If you want to go with." You only shook your head. "Come on Y/n piet's been bugging me. He just wants to spend some time with you. He misses you." Before you could say anything again he interrupted you. "It'll only be you and him. If you want me to, I'll stick around. Just, he's your friend too." You sighed. "You're right. I can't just run away from it because it's complicated." Tony nodded. "As much as I don't like his sister right now, he's not a bad guy." The thought escaped Tony's mouth before he could think it through. “You know you really like to meddle in my life.” He laughed. “Well someone has to, if I don't do it who will?”

The mere possibility that you’d have to face Wanda again almost had you drive away from the house you’d become very familiar with. You didn't know what to feel anymore. Wanda was not objectively horrible you knew that, but you also knew that you would very likely end up hating her if you stayed by her side. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when the passenger door of your car pops open. "You didn't tell her right?" The words flew out of your mouth before you could even think to stop them. "She's not here, you don't have to worry." He said simply. "Where do you want to go?" You asked. He thought about it for a while. "We can just drive. I don't really want to do this with a bunch of people around."  You nodded and managed to drive a decent while before he spoke again. “You and Wanda have put me in an impossible position. It’s hard for me because I see the two of you and it makes me sad. How things managed to get so out of hand I don’t know.” You listened and managed to articulate the words. “I will never make you choose…” He nodded. “I know, but I need you to understand that I couldn’t if you asked, even if Wanda asked.” 

You smiled slightly. “I care for you both, and I sympathize with you. So please don’t write me off. You’re my sister too.” You felt lighter by the time you dropped him off, a full tank of gas later. "I think we should do this more often." He said before he stepped out of the car. You laughed nodding along with him. "I'm sure we can find the time before we leave..." Behind you, you saw headlights pull up. Both you and Pietro tensed slightly, before breaking out into laughter. You felt like you'd been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. You could tell it was Vision's car, but you couldn't really be bothered, you'd had a good time with Pietro and It was all that mattered. "You better step out before either of them start walking up to my car." You threatened playfully. "What? You aren't going to walk me to the door and kiss me goodnight?" He pouted referencing when you’d play house as kids. You laughed. "You'd like that wouldn't you!" You settled and placed a small peck on his cheek. "There, that should hold you over for the time being." He nodded. "I'll see you around y/n?" You nodded. And with that he stepped out and you stepped on the gas.

Not that you had to, Wanda had already exited Vision's car, She was now expectantly waiting for her brother to walk through the door. As soon as the door knob turned she was on her brother. “Why didn’t you tell me Y/n was coming over?” He sighed. “Because she doesn’t want to see you, If I’d told you, you would’ve stuck around.” He tried moving past his sister but she stopped him again. “How is she? Is she okay, what did you guys do?” She asked the questions one after the next. “Good, yes, and we talked.” He listed off. “I told her I wasn’t going to choose sides or anything of the sort.” Wanda was about to rebute but he managed to cut her off before she did. “I don’t get you Wanda, I know you.” He said. “I know you love her, I know it! And you somehow got us here.” His words caught her off guard. “She loved you, and you loved her. Why are we here?” She sighed. “I didn’t know, I-i didn’t realize. I freaked when Tony said what he said at the party.” He nodded. “There's no turning back now.” He squeezed her shoulder pulling her in. “Give her time, it will work out. I know it will.” Wanda nodded, the weight of it settling on her shoulders. She released a shaky breath. “She’s with Natasha… Natasha loves her.” Her eyes met her brothers. He nodded. “You’re with Vision, things will fall into place. The universe works in mysterious ways haven't you heard?” He said, pulling his sister into a warm hug.

When you got home that night you weren’t expecting what was waiting for you when you crossed the door. It was almost as if the universe was showing you what was for you. There were roses lining the hallway, and an amazing smell coming from your kitchen. Where she was wearing a beautiful apron, and a rather large bouquet or roses on the dinner table that was already set and ready to go. It had been only a couple of weeks since Natasha had made the world's crunchiest eggs. And here she was, full on dinner made by her you were assuming. “I was waiting for you.” She said taking a kitchen towel to wipe her hands. “Not too long I hope… Did you do all this.” You asked somewhat awestruck. She nodded. “I’ve submitted myself to my mothers cooking school again, because I wanted to do this for you, I wanted to make you proud.” You couldn’t help but smile. “What did you make?” That’s when you saw her smile turn to a smirk. “Roasted chicken, and some potatoes which, if I do say so, are amazing.” You almost choked on air. 

Everything about that night was perfect. She was perfect and she made you feel perfect. Dinner was all you could hope for, and afterwards a promise was a promise. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She’s asked for the umpteenth time. “Undoubtedly sure.” You spent that night in her arms, kissing her and it was perfect. It was everything you imagined, she was everything you imagined. Waking up next to her this time made you feel like you should wake up next to her forever. So you said it, quietly but surely. “I want to wake up next to you forever.” Natasha was asleep. At least that’s what you thought, she didn’t make any sudden movement and her breath was steady enough, you were sure she was asleep. That was until she spoke. “I think I would like that…” She brought your hand to her mouth and placed a small kiss on it. “No, I would love it.” She amended. You wanted to cry at how good she was, how good she was with you. Everything was good there in your bubble.

Tag-List: @when-wolves-howl @alyciaddict @username23345, @arixxxxxxxxa, @justyourwritter69​, @picnicmic, @swiftdazer, @alphawolfchicago1124, @sojo154 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @marvelogic​ @wandasmistress​ , @alwaysgoodnight​​ , @chickenlittlsblog​ 

#marvel #wanda maximoff #fanfic #marvel mcu #natasha romanoff #fanfiction #mcu #pietro maximoff #tony stark #natasha x y/n #wanda and pietro #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x y/n #wandavision #natasha romanof x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #tony stank #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction

[observeowl]

Resignation Letter

Scarlett Johansson x Reader

Summary: An unexpected news arrive at the wrong time

Note: Slight talk about death

Your POV I am tired of my work, my co-workers treating me like a piece of shit, ordering me around like nobody's business. Jobs are assigned to us by our managers but lately, it seems that they have been pushing their jobs off to me but submitting them in their names.

But that's not the end of it. There are always things to follow up on and maybe things that are not on par with the manager's expectations, so when they ask why things are done this way and we need to have further work done to provide assurance, my co-workers always say they will add to it but I'll be the one doing it.

I got sick and tired of such a working culture and decided to quit. I even wrote my resignation letter and was ready to give it to my manager the next day until I received news I didn't dare to think.

"Okay..." I replied shakily. "When will the funeral be?" I asked my aunty, she was taking care of my mother since she would be able to take better care of her than me who has to work. Sometimes after work and during the weekend, I would visit her. "Thursday? That fast? Okay. I'll take leave from my work, don't worry."

I looked at the resignation letter that was in my hand and threw it in the bin near me. This is no time to quit. I have to stay strong. My father, my younger brother-

A knock on the door caught my attention and I spun around in my chair to see Scarlett standing by the door. "You got the news as well?" She nodded her head and came next to me, leaning against the side of my table.

"I didn't get a call like you did. But I got a message." She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I will call the office and apply for leave for you. Why don't you change and get ready? I'm sure your aunt and dad would love to see you."

"Thank you." I gave her a kiss before heading to my wardrobe. Just as I closed the door, I could hear her punching in the numbers and speaking into the phone. I didn't stay long enough to hear a full conversation but I was thankful that she was by my side.

"You're packing a bag to stay with them for a few days?" Scarlett saw I was stuffing a few clothes into my backpack. I stopped in my tracks, I didn't actually think this through, my hands just moved without thinking. I didn't even ask Scarlett if she was okay with it.

"I was thinking about staying with them until the end of the funeral."

"That's a nice idea. Spend some family time together."

Scarlett POV Some say you get to see more from a different perspective. I could tell Y/N was stressed with each passing day but she says she's fine and refuses to tell me anything. I thought after spending time with her family, she would be better but it only seemed to get worse.

We all gathered after the funeral and I spent some time talking to Y/N's brother. It confirmed my suspicions that she was putting too much on herself, trying to help when she already has a lot on her plate. As the eldest, she tends to carry everything on her shoulders.

I was cleaning the house yesterday and I noticed the letter in her bin when I was dumping it out. It wasn't covered up or anything so I noticed it pretty easily. She was planning on resigning, it was dated one day before her mother died. But why did she not send it to her company? Why is it in the bin?

I kept it at a different spot, hoping to be able to speak to her about it later.

"She's not letting herself think about it. She always does this. I don't think I've seen her teardrop yet. Either that or she didn't allow us to see it." Her brother said.

"Thanks for taking care of her the past few days." We said our goodbyes before going back to our home.

During our drive back, it was silent all the way other than the radio that was playing in the background. I offered to put her bag in the backseat but she just hugged it tighter. We didn't speak much that day and she went straight to work the next day.

I was concerned for her. It was not healthy keeping it all in. I even noticed that she kept her security stuffy aside. That's when I knew this was serious. No matter how many times I told her that it was hindering me when I was cuddling to her, she refused to put it aside. Even when we were still friends, she was hugging it when she first broke up with her girlfriend. For her to put it aside was a serious problem.

"Babe, sit down." I dragged Y/N to sit by the edge of the bed after she was done showering. She looked at me like I was doing something weird and I could tell by her eyes that she was scared. "Nothing is wrong babe, I just want to know what's happening in your mind."

"Nothing." She shook her head. I sighed and let her know what I found. If I don't present her with the evidence, she's never going to break down the wall.

"It was just a reckless move, I did it in a heat of anger. I don't feel like resigning anymore. Besides, did you not wish for the stuffy to be gone?" She flipped the question at me.

"Babe, you know most of the time I'm joking. If you feel safe with it, I'm not going to take it away."

"Well, anything else? I can always just take it out again." She made it seem as if the whole conversation was pointless and we were wasting time.

"Babe, listen to yourself." I didn't want her to walk away so I held her hands. "You're not giving yourself time to process all of this. You don't allow yourself to relax. You're always doing something before and even during the funeral. You went back to work immediately the next day and don't lie to me because I know you hate your work."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "I don't what you want from me Scarlett. It's not affecting me as much as you think it is. Must I shed a tear for you to think I'm okay?"

I calmed myself down before speaking, not taking it to heart. I knew she was going to be defensive about it. "First of all, I'm just worried about you. Secondly, I would believe you more if your shoulders weren't that tense." Immediately, her shoulders dropped and she acted as I was seeing things.

"You don't have to put up a front with me. Or anyone else. You're allowed to break down, no one is going to be mad at you for that." Her throat started trembling and I knew she needed a bit more push for the wall to crumble.

"And don't even get me started with that work of yours? It's way too demanding and your co-workers are not even nice. They don't appreciate you, they don't deserve you. The amount of work you're doing deserves more. You're more than capable enough to get a better paying job and people want you. You don't have to be afraid."

I watched as she dropped her head and walked out of the room. I sighed fearing I may have pushed her too far and made everything worse. Wanting to give her some space, I went to change into my night clothes and got ready for bed when Y/N came in again. This time with her stuffy.

She stuffed her face in it and walked over to her side of the bed while I smiled at her even though she couldn't see it.

"I didn't get to say I love her enough. All she received were my complaints but I really really love her. There's so much I didn't get to say to her."

"I know you do. And I'm sure she knows too. She'll be so proud of you." I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"And about my job. I hate lounging around so I'll wait until I get an offer from somewhere before quitting." I hummed following along. We stayed in the same position for a while and she didn't say anything so I thought she fell asleep. "Thank you too, Scarlett. For bringing me back."

I kissed the top of her head. "Anytime, babe."

#scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson #x reader #resignation letter #my writing

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot: the fool

Well, now that I've finished tarot weekend… time to talk about my WWDITS tarot ideas!

I wrote a couple posts about how I would assign a few of the major arcana if I were making a WWDITS tarot deck, and a few people asked me for my thoughts for the rest of the deck.

And… I’m down! I collect tarot decks and studied tarot in college, so I’m a giant nerd about this shit. I’ll be happy to talk to you about my ideas.

(Just remember that you asked for this.)

Because some of these are fairly complex, I decided to just do one meta post per card so I can talk about both the card symbolism and the character in question. Some are gonna be simple and silly, others will have quite a bit of thought behind them. I'm working off the Rider-Smith-Waite tarot for this, like most decks do, so that's the imagery I'll be discussing.

So uh. Yeah. Let’s get started with 0. The Fool.

(under a cut bc this is long and has images)

You might think I’m going too literal with this one, but I promise everything I’m about to say will make sense when I’m done. For The Fool, I’ve chosen Sean Rinaldi.

You might be thinking I’ve done this because Sean is kind of a dopey character. Foolish, if you will.

NO.

The Fool in tarot is a card of fresh beginnings, innocence, and infinite potential. The imagery is usually of a young man starting out on a journey. He’s young and carefree and naive. He hasn’t had the experience he’ll have soon, and he doesn’t know what’s coming — but he's ready to find out.

I chose Sean because in many ways, his friendship with the vampires has given him a new lease on life. The Sean we saw at the beginning of 2.03 was tired and irritable. He’d lost a lot of the innocent happiness and optimism he’d had when he was younger, as well as the kindness and affection that had accompanied it. Charmaine pretty much said as much when she talked about what a great guy he’d been when they were dating.

But after getting his brain scramblied, Sean really was able to take fresh new steps into a life he was living as if for the first time. And since then, he’s managed to get new friends, new business opportunities (more… or less…), new adventures, etc. He’s come to love the vampires and be loved in return. He has a great relationship with his wife and his friends. He’s happy, and there’s a sort of carefree spring in his step that suits The Fool well.

Unlike a character like Guillermo, who had infinite potential at the beginning of the series but has already made quite a bit of progress through his journey, Sean still feels fresh, new, and full of possibility. He’s literally pretty foolish and silly, yes, but he’s also just beginning to dip his toes into this supernatural world — and I strongly suspect that he’ll end up in there pretty deep by the end of the series.

There’s also a sense that there’s more to Sean than has been fully revealed, especially regarding his ability to withstand hypnosis, and I think we’re really just starting to see his journey unfold.

He approaches the vampires with friendly naïveté and seems to enjoy new activities — as long as they don’t get too scary. Even though he’s constantly getting into weird, dangerous, and scary situations (like… bankruptcy) he seems to bounce back with an enviable enthusiasm and joy.

In addition to all that, The Fool (archetypally speaking) is a figure that seems silly and naive but has a tendency to be able to see things more keenly than others and is able to speak truth in situations where others aren't allowed. I think Sean slides rather neatly into this as well; not only can he resist hypnosis more and more as the show goes on, sometimes he'll say something remarkably perceptive — and you have to wonder how much he's really picking up on what's going on around him.

(Plus... I just think it’s really funny that the Rider-Waite-Smith card has a little puppy on it and he reacted so very badly to the vampires' “puppy pile”. RIP my sweet cheese, my rotten soldier, my good-time boy.)

So if I were to design a card with Sean... The Fool is usually on a cliff with his bindle, and the imagery reminds me a lot of Sean's look during The Pine Barrens. The gun over his shoulder and the way he's dressed for a journey, a little companion at his side... I think I'd try to adopt some of that imagery but I'd add in some bats for good measure.

IN CONCLUSION, due to his relationship with the vampires, Sean has become what is essentially a blank slate that is constantly being wiped clean. But he seems happy that way, naive and fresh and thrilled with the world, and his story — his new story — is just getting started.

Tune in next time for The Magician!

wwdits tarot masterpost

#wwdits #wwdits meta #sean rinaldi #wwdits tarot thoughts #I have a notepad with all 22 of these already written down y'all like I have THOUGHT about this

[wordsarefakeokay]

What does capitalism taste like

Does it taste like white picket fences and 2.5 kids

What about a dog in the backyard and BBQs on the weekend

Knowing all your neighbors names and having the HOA on speed dial

Does it taste like the life you want to live?

Are the HOA in your contacts because they keep calling you

Or are you calling them

Does that complicated C word taste the homogeneity in your neighborhood

Where the police arrive in 2 seconds flat, with a gate and a patrol to match

Does it taste like "I'll wait here for your manager" and weekends at the golf course

Does it taste like a martini because the trophy spouse has a long day?

Does it taste like security cams and a ranch on the property with the stable boys and the guest house to the side with the cabana ones?

Does it taste like equestrianship is in your blood from birth? What about fencing?

Does it taste like ivy league vines crawling up babies spines from birth?

Does it taste like "Harvard is your dream not mine" and then rebellion

Does rebellion look like a fully funded backpack trip to Europe with your first great love

Or does it look like "I'm going to work for my parents equally rich rival company"

Or does it look like different freedom, independence, simply a different life

Where you can still ask your parents for money because you reached a happy ever after in the movie

What does capitalism taste like

Happily ever after is fake for us real folks so it must hold true for those up top right?

People in gated communities who's stepford mother's figures are earned with the local book club

Who's menopause kicks in at the same pace because we're all just clucking hens bonding together aren't we

Aren't we all just girls looking to connect with other girls in line for the bathroom?

Let's be honest, we all have some kind of mommy issue don't we? #justgirlythings

And what about the men? Is it really just an opportunity to measure up?

Is it a subtle side eye to measure manhood, even tho bro code states "thou must not make eye contact with another bro I'm the bathroom"

Doe you feel like enough when you see a guy like your ex is now dating

Do you feel reassured when you notice your manhood is better?

Why does size matter?

Why am I automatically called "a little lady" by cowboys who are raised to believe "bigger in Texas" really means better

Is this what capitalism does

Does "be a man" follow men into the bathroom like "don't be a pussy" does for women?

Why must public communal bathrooms make us decide a gender right at that moment

Can't we measure a bathroom by the content of their room?

Stalls or urinals? Privacy or not? Right this way fellow citizen

Citizen. Human. Person. Life.

What does capitalism taste like

Does it taste like legislation against the gays?

No cakes no websites no space no homos

No healthcare no rights no sports pro bono

Hare dare anyone use pronouns! Fake news!

Them libs want you to think you can be referred to anything but your name. It's the devil's work

Didnt you hear that song? Call me by your name? He was a devil in the music I daresay! The devil!!

I'd let the devil fuck me

At least he would treat me right and show me a good time

What has capitalism done

This thing we fought for so that all our founders' legacies might have a future

Future away from tyranny and taxation and being slaves to our king

We have no kind any more, no crown jewels to protect, but we act the same

Why is the one who's always on top always the winner who writes the history

The winner who's educated

from a family with money

who were taught good Christian values

with a fencing rapier in hand and

Shakespeare in their veins

Is this what capitalism does

Dilutes us to the elite

Homogeneous suburbia and "all you need is fairy tales and you can be rich too"

Political correctness and "just find a man to solve your problems"

Register to vote and "be a man or you're not good enough"

It's not just little girls who get told their not good enough

The gender non conforming community has definitely unlocked a whole cheat code on life

That and the furries who have been the scientific backbone of this country for eons

But why do my apples taste not like what an apple tree looks like in the movies?

The one in the corner of Mamma Mia on the isle in Greece

Where my problems were solved by not getting married but traveling the world as a skinny white woman with her Kenough manly man

Singing voice for character wink

Why don't my apples taste like those on the Grecian island where the stories of the locals are forgotten to the American story, the American dream

I escaped my mom and became one myself

I'm a self made woman now

With a mortgage she can't pay and life problems that were clearly solved by marrying the man who hurt her the most in life

Why doesn't my apple taste like how that apple tree looks?

Why doesn't it taste like the apple from the garden?

Why doesn't it taste like the freedom eve must have felt when she disobeyed

Why is the taste of temptation diluted in my cheap apple from the superstore in the fruit section

Does it taste like pesticide and FDA regulations

Who keeps them in check? The CDC? WHO?

The DOJ or FBI or NAFTA or the Geneva convention

Was it a Geneva suggestion or a line from the treaty of Versailles or did agent orange bring us here

How many babies were born deformed before I ate this apple

And how many nat GMO products have I consumed that my human body has endured?

What does capitalism taste like? Because I swear, remaining tribal lands must not be like this

Forgotten poor African villages eat different

Forgotten poor native south America cultures remain intact on top of mountains that the white or Spanish or French have not yet learned to monetize

And now they will never because the people on the ground know better and are stronger

And capitalism stays the same

Progress is progress no matter how small

But all this progress

Is it good for us

Good for our taste buds

They say to beware vaccines and microchips but aren't we already a cyborg because we carry a favored microchip in our hands?

The ones we avoid calls from home on and instead laugh at cat videos

We share, bare our souls online to strangers but the people in our lives could never break our pokerface

But if we were born this way

Would we ever know what capitalism tastes like

If we don't ask someone else?

Does capitalism taste like the additive sugar in a fun size bar of crunch

Does it taste like the chocolate take over energy found in the Nestle headquarters

Or does it taste like the cocaine they put into coca cola to keep people buying more

I'm not convinced that the girl scouts didn't take that idea for themselves

Does capitalism taste like the working conditions of these massive corporate overlords

Or the factories where they bottle and bag and package comfort for 1.25

Does it taste the endless metallic conveyor belts

Or the chance that peanuts were used in any of those products

Does it taste like our countries trade deal for cheap products made from other companies

Does it taste like the the sweat shops that make your favorite new shirt or those fashionable high tops

Does it take like the abused labor that built this country

Does it taste like all the ghost statues of people who should have been memorialized instead of forgettable white men from history

Does it taste like the rust they should have earned all along

Or does it taste like the pain of forgotten artists

The heart of Harlem the beasts of Boston the cheeps of the Cherokee

Does it sound like the ones who's names we forget

The neglected breaks of the Oregon trail the gentrification of the only pockets of culture in this country

The Japanese internment camps

Border patrol and the place where there was almost a wall

Are the tears of all the family members of witches still a part of Salem

What about the hurt caused by the fights for gender equality that excluded black women

Does capitalism taste like Jim Crow or strange fruit

Just because it's rotting in the back doesn't mean it's in our past

These caged birds still sing can't you hear?

I fear for my brother and my niece and my nephew daily, their lives matter too

Friends neighbors family

They're still part of your labor or did you forget what The 13th taught us

Toni Morrison, Frederick Douglas

Miles Davis, Billie Holliday

MLK and Malcom X

HER and Missy Elliott

They run in our veins

The revolution is not televised

Stonewall certainly can't be told by anyone else

Nor can we forget the power of black trans women in the creation of pride spaces

What about the flyover cities that are meant for rural living with signs screaming "no airport here"

The pain of the indigenous people who's land a mindless mall was built over

Being given back land that belonged to those born here ages past

Ancestral home can be yours with a side of steak knives

And while I'm here can I interest you in the Book of Mormon

What about their tears? Their blood their breaks their pain

Does capitalism taste like that?

The endless lost even now and memorialized in art with a red handprint to their portrait

The lack of water and resources to land promised back

Ancestral home returned but you're on your own. Unless you're ready to hear about our Lord and savior

When will we realize we aren't a savior to begin with

Is this what capitalism tastes like?

Institutions built for white people who forgot that the land isn't theirs and never was

Home of the brave where those with the most force and money can get anywhere

We're the underdogs, the land of opportunity, come on by

You just have to follow these few simple rules

So if you're not perfect or cookie cutter, don't worry we'll just sand around the edges

So you'll fit into these boxes and society can know what to do with you

But if you're too much or not enough be ready to hate the rest of your days here

Welcome to the country of goldilocks and fuck you if you're not "just right"

What does capitalism taste like for you?

#first draft tbh #writing #spilled ink #poem #capitalism #society #this really needs a section on like 9/11 and muslims and tsa and things #asian people and driving stereotypes being smart and expectations #Filipino and Pacific islander culture and what it meants to work hard #and more in depth on the latin culture too of coming to america and dreamers and many many more things #russian people from old country simply trying to move forward #all the other groups of people i know i forgot #people with disabilities #blind deaf hoh mobility #people who need mobility aids #meedication and mental illness #physical health #mental health #jobs #no jobs #queer kink poly gnc #so many many many more #we'll see how this one develops #my writing #edited my own poem

[literaticat]

I'm trying to figure out the best way to protect my mental health in the face of my debut year. Do you have any tips for authors who are being perceived for the first time?

I have been sitting on this one a bit because I don't want to give BAD advice, and also it feels like a huge topic? I dunno, I guess I'll just dive in and see where this goes . . .

First of all: CONGRATULATIONS on your forthcoming debut! Hooray! I hope you are allowing yourself time to celebrate and have fun, and not just letting your anxiety run amok.

If you know that you are an anxious or otherwise easily freaked-out person by nature, it's a good idea to set some boundaries for yourself NOW so that they will hopefully take root and be relatively simple to continue. You might start by identifying your triggers and trying to like, overcome them in advance.

For example: I KNOW this about myself -- I have ADHD and anxiety. If I don't have a schedule and a list, I will derail and just start procrastinating which sends me into a spiral that can take ages to dig out of.

I also know about myself that if I have to do something in the middle of a work day, like "go to a lunch" or "go to the dentist" -- I might as well write the whole rest of the day off as a loss, because there's NO WAY I'm getting anything done once I come home.

So I set a schedule for myself and (try to) keep to it. I make lots of lists, set lots of reminders, and when those days come where I know there's a mid-day situation happening, I block those times out so that I don't feel bad for not doing anything when I come home because I was already scheduled to not do anything. :-)

I also don't look at news during the work day because if I do, I will for sure just go down a rabbit hole. I also try not to answer work emails after 7pm or on weekends. I also have a timer app-thing that kicks me off twitter / insta during the work day if I'm on there for more than 10 minutes.

All of this is my way of managing my time, which means that when I am AT WORK, I actually get things done (hopefully!) -- and when I am OFF WORK, I actually practice self-care and DON'T WORK, which means I'm less likely to stress out and burn out.

Now -- I don't know what YOUR struggles are. But identifying them will help you figure out strategies to combat them, right?

I'd suggest that ways to combat the terror of being perceived MIGHT include strictly limiting what you share about your private life online, and limiting your social media use by means of a timer or some such that will allow you to dip in and post something if you want to, but won't allow you to get fully sucked in. Setting boundaries about the time you spend on responding to emails and things of that nature. Learning that it is OK to say no to things (but allow that sometimes it might be good to say YES to things even if they make you a little uncomfortable to think about, because those things MIGHT be great opportunities!) -- and while yes, it IS great to make friends with other writers who are in a similar boat to you -- also, if you have good friends who are NOT WRITERS, who don't really get that life at all but just want to go on a road trip or something like that, KEEP THEM, because it's healthy to have interests and activities that DO NOT include writing, obsessing about writing, obsessing about sales or whatever, and writer-world gossip.

In other words - make taking the time to enjoy yourself and the world outside of writing a priority, not a "luxury when you have time but you never have time" -- a PRIORITY. Take walks, or play pickle-ball, read a great book, or hug a puppy, or whatever it is -- just give yourself the chance to GO OUTSIDE AND TOUCH SOME GRASS (literally or figuratively) when you can, because surely, whatever your mental health challenges are, sitting on the internet absorbing writer drama will not be helpful to them.

Also, if you don't have a therapist, it might be a good idea to get one.

[yosttravis]

163 Minutes in Boston

Follow on Strava

So about fifteen months ago, I signed up for my first 140mi Ironman. And then I trained a ton for it, and wrote about it. All-time experience.

But I got hurt during the early parts of the run and sort of slogged through it. And that just ate me alive, especially since (a) it was my first true marathon; and (b) I'm a much better runner than swimmer or cycler by nature.

That week I set a goal to qualify for Boston, and ran my second marathon in Utah, and qualified at 2:57, and wrote about what I did to run a sub-three. And you guys really liked that.

So let's talk about the Boston Marathon, which I ran over the weekend! I'll cut to the chase first -- the title was the giveaway, finishing 2:43 and 870th in my third (second?) full distance marathon.

For a fake runner, I was [mostly] happy. More on that later. Notes, race day details, and stats/splits to follow.

Training and Random Notes

On the plus-side of things, my training has been limit up over the last 12-months. Fitness levels, not a problem. Not at all. I do a lot more cross-training than most pure runners, which has it's benefits and drawbacks. But using Garmin's Intensity Minutes as a proxy, you can see how much we moved this needle up in recent months:

(That VO2 MAX is ripping ....)

On the minus-side of things, mostly everything else, at least for this race.

The worst winter (ever, and I mean EVER) in the Western United States. Running volume down as a result. Endless snow, frigid temperatures, and it's still going on.

An injury, which I've been lucky to avoid for a long while now. Twitter (TWITTER!) diagnosed the injury accurately -- popliteus tendinopathy, rare for most people, more common in runners and triathletes. Physical therapy affirmed. Lot of strength and mobility work, and we eventually went from 'sharpshooting pain' and 'aborted runs' in February to 'manageable'. It hasn't improved much beyond manageable. This also took running down some bit further on top of just horrific weather.

Generally speaking, I ran only about 30-40 miles a week during this 'down period', and in some weeks fewer than that. You can see how much I took it down (measured in mins)"

But I was religious about time on feet and cross-training. And those stairs. We kept on those stairs. More on that in a minute.

Race Morning Thoughts

Initially, I set a goal for 2:50:00. I knew that was a sandbagged number relative to my fitness, but I had concerns that my leg would hold up at the tail end of the race (especially in the infamous hills of Boston). Moreover, the weather was horrific. Just comical. The northeast has had the most pleasant winter in the history of mankind, and in typical April-in-New-England fashion, the marathon turned into intermittent monsoons and a sustained headwind. This was in the forecast in advance, and so I figured considering the factors at play.

I said I was bullish on fitness, but I was also bullish on nutrition. There are a lot of people I've learned who struggle (and struggle immensely with this) -- finnicky stomachs, indecisiveness, whatever. I train very early in the mornings and as soon as I'm done, it's one of my two jobs on deck, so breakfast is usually just a shake. That said: I tail-end eat a lot. I cannot remember the last day (in months) that I have not had at least two dinners. Eating so much late at night has it's drawbacks, but my body has grown well accustomed to storing and using for tomorrow morning's abuse. If you follow on Strava, you know there are a lot of hours in those early morning banks, and usually at harder intensities.

On that nutrition point: I really didn't have to overthink it much, because my caloric burn (~ 2.6k, let's call it) was only about 36 pct more burn than the average training day. Which isn't insignificant! But I imagine people who do not have heavy and sustained volumes have to get much more careful with loading 48-hours out from race, 24-hours out from race, etc.

With a relatively full stomach from the night prior, morning was easy: bagel and cream cheese, granola, honey stinger waffles (the GOAT of pre-workout food), and fluids.

Changed up the shoes this time around. I'm a firm believer in Nike for speed and HOKA for training/comfort. I usually race in Vapors, PR'd a 1/2 back on 9/11 in D.C (1:16). But it was in a monsoon, logged out the shoes something bad. So I went for the Alphas this time around. If you don't have a pair of Alphas, go get one. Worth it.

The Race

For anyone who is ever interested in running Boston, let me tell you a few quick things. One, it's a lifetime experience, full stop, it's not marketing and it's very real. Two, it's extremely secure, owing to previous events. Three, because it's extremely secure, it can feel cumbersome at times. Waiting around in Athletes Village for hours in cold weather and rain, with little to no cover -- not ideal. But everyone was in good spirits and by and large just trying to stay warm.

My qual time was good enough for wave one, but the congestion for the first five miles was insane. You really were running elbow-to-elbow for some bit of time. I stuck to the sides to try and at least hold a respectable pace (6:30 range) until it could thin out some.

The weather was a challenge the entire race. The cool temperatures kept the heart rate down (I only averaged 165 for the race, despite pushing some), but the sustained 20-25 mph headwind and intermittent heavy rain was a problem, and slowed the race considerably.

At the halfway mark, I was 1:19 range (tracker had 1:20 -- I of course ran more distance than needed, weaving in/out of crowds a few times). Still had full energy at this point, though my right knee was starting to bother a bit. At any rate, I knew I could carry this pace through the rest of the race, more or less.

The areas where the crowds are in Boston? Second to none. The energy is real. Really real. If you have music on, you won't hear it. And you don't want to hear it. Just a truly amazing experience and so laudable for the city -- these people want to motivate every runner, and man you get juiced up from it.

Take your pick: I either thought the hills around miles 16-20 were a bit overrated, certainly more of a mental challenge than anything. I don't say this as a running snob (I'm a fake runner, remember), I do say this as someone who swears by stairs and incline work. In every one of these races I seem to make up considerable time on comparable runners when going uphill. And though my pace grinded down expectedly climbing the hills, it was very comfortable and I didn't want to push my knee (now starting to bother a fair bit) to the point of no return. I trimmed my pace by about 20-25s in the last few miles for this reason. Pure fitness wise, I do think I could've held up the ~ 6:10 pace for about 33 to 35-miles or so, give or take. I do think I missed a couple of opportunities around miles 7-11 to gap down more aggressively, lesson learned there.

I ended 2:43. A bit disappointed to be blunt. I think with a healthy right leg, or better wx conditions, I could've given 2:39:59 a real run.

Most importantly: critical advertising for the worldwide leader. Go Bills.

Time for the next test. I left a lot on the table, and it's already bothering me!

Splits and Stats

#boston marathon #triathlon

[izzy-b-hands]

8V

A convo with the crew, pizza, and a step closer to Izzy's end. Sort of.

NSFW because everyone gets horny and needy and kissy here and there. Tbh by the end of this they might constantly be on each other, we'll see.

---

The bar isn't too full yet, and Roach waves them in.

"Just can't stay away from here, can you?" he jokes with Stede.

"What can I say?" Stede chuckles. "The Revenge is one of my babies. I worry about her even though I know she's in the best hands."

"Here we go," Roach sets a couple of pizza boxes on the counter, and gently taps Louis' tiny hand as it peeks over the countertop. "Wait until you and Dad get home, down there!"

Izzy lifts Louis up, propped on his hip. "Better?"

"Thank you," Louis says. "Hi Roach!"

"Hi Louis," Roach laughs. "You like Dad's new friend?"

"New boyfriend," Louis corrects him. "But he's not my new dad yet."

Roach grins. "Not yet? You'll let him know if and when, right?"

Louis nods. "He's pretty cool though."

"High praise!"

"Olu!" Alma cries in response to the voice behind them, and turns to it.

"This is my general manager, Oluwande," Stede says as they turn to him. "He keeps things under control when I'm gone. And when I'm here too, honestly. I fear I'm as much chaos as anyone else that comes in."

"You're alright," Olu smiles. "Thank goodness it's been getting dark earlier again. The extra prep time is a boon."

"Everything is all good then?" Stede asks. "You know any of you can call if you need me."

"We're good," Olu says. "Alma! Been a good day?"

"Yeah," she smiles. "What about here?"

"Been fantastic," Olu replies. "Jim and Frenchie are performing stuff from their new album tonight. Want me to record some of the show and send it to Dad so you can see it?"

She nods eagerly.

"Consider it done," Olu says. "Wee John is gonna DJ after them, and Buttons has some free form poetry to recite if needed."

"And tomorrow, that new band is coming in still?"

"Yeah, Flock of the Chords? Something like that," Olu replies. "Their manager confirmed it already; they'll be here."

"Stop worrying," Roach teases. "Go home and eat while that pizza is hot. This is one of your weekends off, Stede."

"Thank you guys," Stede says. "Alright then. Louis, let Izzy set you down."

"My legs are tired," Louis protests, and clings to Izzy.

"I don't mind," Izzy says. "Your legs need pizza to work again, don't they?"

Louis nods dramatically, leaving Roach and Olu chuckling as they leave.

--

"I feel bad," Izzy says as they finish up dinner. "I've been here for months, and never knew you did food at your bar. And that it was so good! I've been missing out."

"You've got plenty of time to make up f-" Stede cuts himself off. "Oh. Actually, you don't! Well, good that your last meal was something of Roach's."

"Last meal?" Alma asks suspiciously.

"I'm starting a diet tomorrow," Izzy replies quickly. "So I'll have to cut back on pizza."

Alma nods, but her gaze lingers on him for a moment.

"Okay," Stede says. "You two, upstairs. You can play, read, whatever. In an hour though, start cleaning up for bed. Izzy and I will be down here cleaning up, or in the basement room. If you need me, come get me."

The kids head upstairs while Izzy and Stede clear the table.

In comfortable silence, they put away leftovers and clean dishes.

Then, they head to the basement.

"So, I'm thinking extra sheets, blankets," Stede says in the basement room. "Water for me. Do you think Jack and Ed will bring over some blood for them and you, after?"

"Think so," Izzy replies. "You're... you're really chill, fine, with this. Dating a vampire."

Stede shrugs. "Doesn't matter to me. Like I say, we've got supernatural family members already, so it's really nothing different for me. The kids don't know exactly about them yet, just that they have some aunts and uncles with different needs. We can tell them the same thing for you."

"And letting me be turned in your house?"

"You'll be safe, and warm, and looked after," Stede replies. "I wouldn't want you anywhere else."

Izzy nods, as tears prickle the corner of his eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Stede chuckles and smiles and pulls him in for the kiss. Izzy wonders if his lips will feel warmer, when they kiss after he's turned.

"Stede," Izzy says as they part. "There was a second part, of what I asked of Ed. Not just about me. I..."

He hesitates. He should have asked Stede. He offered him up without even thinking, because of how badly he wanted him.

"I asked Ed if he would be willing to turn you too," Izzy says shakily. "But only if you want, and really, it's obscene that I didn't ask you first about that; it's wrong-"

"It isn't, actually," Stede interrupts. "I've dreamed about being turned since I was a kid. Higher up on my list than owning my own bar, even!"

The tears fall, and Izzy lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Seriously? You mean it? You aren't just saying that so I don't feel bad?"

"I mean it," Stede says. "The way you got into it with Ed...that was my dream, at that age. So to be able to still sort of do it, even now..."

He blushes. "I didn't think I'd get to live out anymore dreams, not at my age."

"You'll have a lot more time for that now," Izzy says.

"With you?"

"So long as you'll have me."

--

They promise the kids they'll be called down when Ed gets there, but there's a near-constant pattern of small footsteps back and forth from the top of the stairs.

"They'll get tired eventually," Stede smiles, but he looks exhausted.

"I think you've beaten them to it," Izzy says. "Go rest."

"I'll be getting plenty of that after midnight; I can wait," Stede says, then smirks.

In another moment, it lands. "Terrible. Absolutely terrible."

"Eternal rest, right? I think that one's good. Would that make Ed like me more?"

Izzy smiles. "He grows on you, doesn't he? Even when he's an asshole."

"I'll admit the kiss was a major factor," Stede says. "But I'm curious about him. Maybe we did just get off on the wrong foot, if he's coming around now to us."

Izzy shrugs. "We'll see how he is when he gets here. Are you sure you don't want to nap before all this?"

Stede stands from his chair, and offers Izzy his hand.

"Is that a yes?"

Stede smiles and leads him by the hand towards the basement. "Sort of. We could nap, or-"

He turns, and presses Izzy against the wall of the hallway. The kiss is needy and wanting and is almost immediately interrupted by the doorbell.

"We should get that," Izzy says with a sigh.

"Mhm," is Stede's reply, mouth busy trying to leave marks on Izzy's neck.

He decides he'll simply bring Stede along that way, both of them giggling as Stede pulls Izzy close again with each step.

"Finally," Ed says when they swing the front door open.

He's blushing at the sight of them though, and Izzy doesn't expect Ed to break and swoop in to his other side.

"Hey," Jack waves as he walks in and shuts the door for them. "See, told you to give Steve a chance."

"Stede," Izzy corrects.

Jack nods. "You know the kids are watching from the stairs, right?"

Stede's head snaps up from Izzy's neck. "Fuck!"

"I got it," Jack says. "You three go do what needs doing. I'll keep the kids busy until then."

Stede frowns. "I don't kn-"

"Got this at the library," Jack interrupts, and pulls a copy of twilight from behind his back. "Kids still like this, right?"

"Alma regularly bothers her werewolf extended family with questions about it, why aren't they more like the book werewolves," Stede says wearily. "So yeah, she'll be your best friend for that. Louis will just be happy for a bedtime story."

"Alright then," Jack smiles. "Have fun, be safe, don't wear anything you wanna keep after this!"

"What does he mean by that?" Stede asks.

"I'm not explaining rapid decomposition and recomposition in front of your kids," Ed hisses. "Where are we-"

Stede's eyes light up. "The hidden room! Come on, you'll love it."

Jack heads upstairs, and Izzy follows Stede and Ed down to the basement. The slight concern that they might need more than a few towels for clean up follows as well.

#text post #ofmd fic #stizzy #steddyhands #vampire au #this chapter fought me like a motherfucker so its like. barely up to standard for me #but i am done with looking at it so i can move the fuck on akdbkdfnk

[blogger-yura]

Entry #46 Aug 1st '22

#YurasLife #MovieMonday #Horror #Psychological #HomeInvasion #TheOwners

𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 - The Owners (2020)

Title: The Owners - Screentime: 92min - Director: Julius Berg

Rotten Tomatoes

An elderly couple turn the tables on a group of young thieves who broke into their house while they were away.

Film Affinity

Rural England, early nineties: childhood friends Nathan and Terry are induced by the local sociopath to steal from the Huggins, an elderly doctor and his wife. Nathan's girlfriend, Mary, is totally against the plan, but a few hours later she finds herself in the stately home, beside the safe in the basement and a bunch of other individuals, each more suspicious than the next.

Hello hello my pretty bumblebees! Happy beginning of the week! What did you guys do over the weekend? Did you rest or did you maybe go out and have fun? It is summer after all, I certainly hope you guys are enjoying the weather wisely and making the most out of your free time –If you have any!–. Me? I've used the weekend to catch up with some people, some work, and also the blog! While I haven't managed to make a lot of advances yet, I do already have some things lined up for the week and so!

Do you ever just get a sudden rush of motivation and get so much done it feels like nothing can stop you? Yeah! That's how the weekend has been!

I also wanted to catch up with some movies, and so because of that I bring you guys today this really weird film I watched Friday night!

This week I'm sharing with all of you "The Owners". I'm not going to lie to you, it's not of my favorite movies, but I also did not hate it at ALL. If you know me, you know that while I love supernatural and monsters and demons, my favorite thing ever are home invasions and crazy people. There's this thrill about watching just regular humans do such messed up things that make these kind of movies, if I must, way more terrifying than a blood thirsty demon.

It was a very weird film, very engaging at times, touching some unsettling dark topics, hinting to some debatable behaviors, but overall a good movie that kept me entertained and paying attention most of the night. While it was quite predictable and none of the aspects of it were really... 'New' to say, I still found it quite pleasing to watch!

Not breaking the mold and sticking to some classic and basic rules from horror isn't at all bad when you actually put effort and manage to execute well, and I do truly believe they worked the plot twist in a very wise way that made it welcome. The movie appears fairly lightweight and slow for the first few minutes and it then has the twist that will make you double take and start paying more attention. The anxiousness of watching it all unfold, the knot in your stomach as you don't know if they'll be able to make it out, they're all things I look for when I watch a horror movie!

While, again, the film is very predictable and slightly, let's say 'dramatic'–, I appreciate the ending a lot! It is, without a doubt, a very surprising and also unpleasant movie at times. (which considering its a horror, it's not at all bad!)

To close up, and quoting Meagan from one of my favorite blogs, 'Bloody Disgusting':

< ...While "The Owners" doesn’t attempt to break the mold, it instead opts for a peculiar brand of insanity to complement the violence... "The Owners" offers a solid enough entry in home invasion thrillers, one in which there are no heroes.>

And with that, we give it an end to today's movie review! It really is hard to talk about some movies without giving it all away, ain't it? Though once you start watching it you can tie all the ends together very quickly. While this won't be a movie that I remember very clearly in a few more weeks, I can confidently say I'll be thinking about it for some days. Would you give this movie a chance? Are home invasions down your alley? Is there any movie you'd like me to see and hear my opinion on? Let me know! I love getting recommendations from you guys ♡

I'll get going now, make sure to take care, stay hydrated and be careful with the sun! I'll see you guys again real soon! -Yura ♡

Personal score: 🌟🌟🌟☆☆

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#yura types 🧡 #movie monday