Ngl The Way I Was Reading This As A Joke But Now I’m HOOKED!!? This Was So Cute And Sad At The Same
Ngl the way I was reading this as a joke but now I’m HOOKED!!? This was so cute and sad at the same time omg I love itttt
Momentary Bliss
Summary: Luigi Mangione. Star student. Travel enthusiast. Alleged murderer. Hero of the people. For a fleeting moment he was more than that…he was yours.
A/N: fluff/angst fic abt a whirlwind romance luigi has with reader. WC is 7.4k so get comfy
Luigi sits in his seat, leg anxiously bouncing as he checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. Now he just feels anxious. Anxious to leave this city behind and put as many miles as he can between him and New York.
He fidgets his jacket and releases a shaky breath.
“Hey, do you mind turning on the A.C.?” He calls out to the driver.
The bus driver looks in the rear view mirror and huffs when he sees who called out to him.
“Why don’t you try taking off your jacket first, pal?” He asks, before pulling his gaze away, continuing to look over the scheduled stops.
Luigi leans his head against the headrest of his seat and sighs. He feels much too hot with his face mask. And all the layers he’s wearing aren't exactly helping ease his sudden claustrophobia, but they’re a necessary evil. He has to stay covered, stay hidden until he’s far enough away to not be recognized. He breathes a sigh of relief when the driver finally puts the map down, checking his mirrors one last time before switching his turn signal on.
The bus has only just started to pull away from the curb when someone yells out.
“Hey! Wait!”
Luigi rolls his eyes as the bus comes to a stop, the doors opening a moment later.
“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You sigh as you climb the steps.
“Need to store anything under the bus?” The driver asks, scanning your ticket before handing it back to you.
“Nope.” You shake your head, holding up a small duffle bag with a smile. “Traveling light.”
The bus driver nods, closing the door again and turning to look out his side mirror.
“Jus’ grab any open seat.” He instructs.
You scan the bus, weighing your options of who would be the best person to sit beside. Luigi had curiously looked up when the doors opened, wanting to see who got on; however his mistake was that he didn’t look away. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he ended up locking eyes with you, but he still found himself letting out a startled gasp. You smile kindly and Luigi immediately looks away, fidgeting with his sleeves.
Fuck, he thinks to himself. So much for trying not to draw attention to himself.
You maneuver your way down the narrow passage, murmuring “‘scuse me” and “sorry” to the already settled passengers with a sheepish grin. Finally, you come to a stop beside a young man sitting on the aisle seat with the hood of his jacket up- covering his head.
“Excuse me,” You call softly. “Is it alright if I sit with you?”
Luigi’s fidgeting stops at the sound of your voice. He quickly considers his options before eventually deciding it’d be best for him to keep his aisle seat. After all, if he were to sit by the window, he’d be putting himself at risk of being spotted by anyone that happens to pull up alongside the bus.
Wordlessly, Luigi stands from his seat, avoiding your gaze as he does. He sneaks a quick glance at you when he hears you gasp softly, worried that you’ve found him out already.
“You’re letting me have the window seat?” You ask excitedly, smiling brightly at him before shuffling into the aisle and plopping down into the cushy chair. “Thanks!”
Luigi clears his throat before awkwardly nodding his head as he sits back down. You turn your body to face him again and Luigi tenses.
“I’m Y/N by the way.” You say before looking at Luigi expectantly.
He continues to stare straight ahead, doing everything in his power to avoid your curious gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump and finds himself feeling guilty.
“Mark.” He finally grumbles.
“Mm?” You hum, perking your head up at the sound of his baritone voice.
“My name…” He clarifies, still looking straight ahead. “It’s Mark…”
“Mark…” You repeat before beaming at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Again, Luigi chooses to silently nod his head.
Taking the hint that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, you turn your head to look out the window, though you know there won’t be much of a view since it’s a little past eight o’clock in the evening.
You’ve only made it a few blocks away from the bus station when you call out to the driver.
“Excuse me, sir? Would it be possible to turn on the air please?” You ask, craning your head in an effort to be seen over the rows of seats in front of you.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The driver calls back, messing with the controls.
Immediately after, a cool breeze starts circulating the bus. You lean back in your seat with a content sigh.
“Oh, that’s much better.” You mumble to yourself, turning back to gaze out the window.
Luigi sneaks a glance at you, quickly taking in your delicate features before looking away. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. For the first time today, the weight on his chest feels lighter and he doesn’t feel as if he’s struggling to breathe. He doesn’t know if you’re the reason or if it’s due to the air conditioning finally being turned on. He doesn’t care to dwell on it.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The bus had only been on the road for a little over an hour when Luigi started shuffling around; moving this way and that in his seat and groaning in discomfort. The bus drives over a pothole and Luigi grunts, holding onto the seat in front of him to brace himself.
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to overstep.
“Fine.” He grumbles through clenched teeth.
The bus goes over another pothole and this time he takes a shaky breath.
“Okay, you’re obviously not fine.” You argue, setting your phone down. “What is it? Are you getting car sick?”
Luigi shakes his head. You notice how uncomfortable he looks, almost as if he’s in pain and a lightbulb goes off in your head.
“Do you need a pillow to sit on?” You ask softly.
He looks at you with complete confusion on his features- which aren’t much to go off considering he still has his face mask and hood on. But judging by the furrow of his brows, you can only assume.
“For your hemorrhoids.” You whisper with a nod.
Luigi’s so caught off guard by the whole thing that he can’t help but let out a shocked laugh.
“I don’t have hemorrhoids.” He tells you with a shake of his head.
“Oh.”
“I have- back pain.” He admits reluctantly.
“Oh?”
“Horrible back pain.” He continues. “It’s been going on for years.”
You frown sympathetically at the news before remembering something you haphazardly threw in your bag earlier when packing. You grab your duffle bag from the floor, undoing the zipper and blindly rummaging through it until you hear the distinct crinkle of plastic packaging. You pull out the package, hesitating for only a moment before holding it out to him.
“Do you want this?” You ask shyly, worried you’re overstepping.
“…What is it?” Luigi asks skeptically.
“Heat pack. It helps when I get cramps,” You shrug. “I thought maybe…”
Luigi eyes the package and reads the label.
Hot Hands. Stick-on Body Warmer. Up to 12 hours of heat.
“Yeah…” He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’ll take it. But only if you’re sure-“
“Back pain’s a bitch; go crazy.” You assure.
Luigi takes the package from you and starts opening it while you set your duffel bag back on the floor. He places the patch on his lower back and settles into his seat. Within seconds it starts heating up. Judging by the relieved sigh he lets out, you can only assume that it’s working.
“So where ya going?” You ask him curiously.
“Not sure yet.” He answers cryptically. “Right now I’m just tryna get out of New York.”
You nod your head. He isn’t sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgment.
“You?” Luigi asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. He’s gathered by now that you’re a bit of a chatterbox. He figures it’d be best to give vague answers and redirect the attention to you rather than just sit silently. From what he’s seen, you’re more than happy to do most of the talking.
“Ideally, California. Realistically, as far as I can make it.” You tell him with a small grin.
“What’s in California?” He asks curiously.
“What isn’t in California?” You ask in return. “There’s beaches, amusement parks, museums.” You list before staring off dreamily. “And L.A. is always like a perfect 70 degrees.”
“Florida has beaches and amusement parks too.” Luigi comments casually. “And it’s a shorter trip. Why don’t you go there?”
“Do I look ninety to you?” You ask with an offended frown. “Aside from grandmas freshly retired, I don’t think anyone willingly moves to Florida.”
Luigi chuckles and nods his head in agreement.
“Fair enough. But why go all the way to California?” He asks. “I mean, I’m sure there are other states that are much closer and have the same attractions.”
“Well sure. But California is quite literally on the other side of the country. I’m trying to get as far away from New York as I possibly can.”
“Hawaii?” Luigi offers with a grin, fondly remembering his time there.
“Too far.” You immediately shake your head.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re running from something?” Luigi asks, eyeing you suspiciously.
“I could say the same thing about you.” You fire back, almost defensive with how fast you answer him. Beside you, Luigi tenses. “And everyone else on this bus.” You add. Meanwhile, he releases the breath he had been holding. “I mean, you gotta admit it’s kinda sus.”
“But on the other hand,” You continue, less talking to him and more thinking out loud at this point. “Boarding a cheap bus that’ll drive all through the night while you sleep? Grade A traveling if you ask me.”
“Excellent point.” Luigi nods, thoroughly amused with your rambling. “Touché.”
You smile victoriously at him before turning back around and looking out the window. After a few minutes, you sink lower into your seat, getting more comfortable. Sensing that you’re done bothering him with mindless questions, at least for now, Luigi tries to get some rest. He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms before shutting his eyes.
Luigi’s just on the brink of falling asleep when he feels a sudden weight land on his left shoulder. He’s immediately on alert, opening his eyes and whipping his head to the side. He relaxes when he sees that there’s no threat, it’s just you. He’s about to pull away when you let out the softest of snores.
Luigi watches you sleep for a moment, taking in the serene look on your face and the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smiles softly to himself before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes once more, finally falling asleep himself.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The bus going over another pothole is what wakes Luigi a few hours later. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to get his bearings. Sometime during his slumber his head dropped, coming to a rest atop yours. As soon as he realizes this, Luigi sits up, face burning in embarrassment.
Clearing his throat, Luigi looks down at you and notices that you’re still fast asleep with your head still resting on his shoulder. However now your arms are wrapped around his left one, hugging his appendage close to you, as if you’re worried he’d escape. He chuckles softly to himself, letting you sleep for a few more minutes.
Once the driver announces they’re a few minutes away from the station, Luigi decides to wake you. He shakes your shoulder gently and you stir slightly, frowning in annoyance before burying your face against his arm. Luigi rolls his eyes and huffs before shaking you a bit more firmly.
“Y/N.” He calls, continuing to shake you. “Come on. It’s time to wake up. We’ll be pulling into the station soon.”
Finally, you pick your head up, taking a deep breath and blinking sleepily as you look around.
“Mm?” You hum, trying to make out where you are.
You turn your gaze back to Luigi and smile sleepily at him. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself smiling back.
“We’re almost at the station.” He repeats.
You nod your head, bringing a hand up to rub your eye. You see that your other arm is still wrapped around his and freeze, eyes widening before you quickly pull away.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, covering your mouth in horror.
“It’s fine.” Luigi shrugs. “As long as you were able to get some rest.”
Seeing that he isn’t upset, you slowly put your hands down.
“Wow… Sweet and handsome. I fear you may be just my type.” You comment playfully.
Luigi raises his brows as he looks at you, hoping his mask hides how his face has gone red.
“What makes you think I’m handsome?” He asks, readjusting his hood.
“Mainly personal preference.” You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for brown eyes.” You tell him, placing your hand under your chin and batting your eyelashes at him.
Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused huff. Luckily for him, the bus station becomes visible and you drop the conversation, pulling your phone out as you try to figure out what your next step will be.
As soon as the bus parks, everyone gets off and goes their respective ways. Some go wait for a different bus, others have people waiting for them, a few go get something to eat.
You scan the bus station before spotting a sign that lets you know you’re at the Newark station in New Jersey. You let out a relieved smile upon realizing you successfully managed to make it out of New York and again, Luigi finds himself wondering what- or who- you’re running from.
“So where you going next?” You ask, looking up at Luigi curiously.
“I’m not sure yet.” He comments. He has a few different options. Columbus, D.C., Richmond. “You?”
“Pennsylvania.” You tell him with a firm nod. “Think I’ll be able to catch a flight to L.A. from Altoona.”
“Altoona?” He repeats with furrowed brows. “Wouldn’t Pittsburgh be cheaper?”
“Yes.” You nod. “It would be. $139 cheaper to be exact. But Altoona is a smaller airport. Less people.”
“What are you running from?” Luigi asks again, words coming out before he can stop himself.
The playful smile you had disappears and Luigi mentally scolds himself for being the reason. You look over your shoulder at the information desk before turning back to Luigi, your smile more reserved.
“I should go…” You say solemnly, pointing over your shoulder. “Get my ticket before they get busier…”
Luigi looks over your shoulder and notices the line of people before nodding his head.
“Yeah… That’s a good idea…” He agrees, fidgeting with sleeves again.
“Bye Mark.” You smile, taking a small step away from him. “I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”
“Yeah. You too.” Luigi nods.
He watches you take a few steps before calling out to you.
“Luigi.”
“Huh?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him with a confused frown.
“Call me Luigi.” He says, taking in a shaky breath as you continue to stare at him.
“You gave me a fake name.” You realize, narrowing your eyes at him.
Luigi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly at having been called out.
“Ahh…” He stutters.
“Well now I’m not gonna use it.” You say matter-of-factly as you turn back around.
“What?” He asks with a shocked laugh.
“Bye Mark!” You call, walking away before looking over your shoulder one final time and smiling at him.
Luigi shakes his head before scanning the station, eyes zeroing in on the bathrooms and suddenly remembering how badly he has to pee.
He doesn’t see you in line when he exits the bathroom a short moment later and assumes you went to wait inside. Pulling out his phone, he sees there’s a pub and grill on the other side of the station, about a block away, and decides to head there to get some food before figuring out his next step.
When he gets to the pub, Luigi gets an order of sliders and a bottle of water to go, putting them into his backpack before heading back to the station. He’s just about to sit at one of the tables to eat when he sees you exit the building and look at your phone before turning right.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Luigi continues to watch you. You take a few steps forward before looking back down at your phone. He assumes you’re following directions but to where? You cautiously scan your surroundings before hurrying across the street. Luigi hesitates for only a moment before following after you, shaking his head at himself. Where are you going at 11 o’clock at night in a city you don’t even know? And why does he care?
You reach the intersection and run across the street when you don’t see any cars. After safely crossing the road, you pull your phone back out, checking the map once more before continuing your walk. Apparently there’s a seafood restaurant around the corner that should still be open. You aren’t the biggest fan of seafood but you’re hoping they’ll at least have some chicken tenders. Getting excited at the mere thought, you pick up the pace, hurrying around the corner only to let out a startled scream when you see a man standing there.
“Oh shit, sorry!” You apologize to the man. “You scared me.” You admit with a laugh.
“That’s alright, beautiful.” The man assures, looking you over.
“Um. Okay…bye.” You say with a nod before walking past him.
You hear him start to follow after you and don’t think anything of it at first.
“Hey, hold up. Where you going?” He asks.
You turn around, and when you see that he’s talking to you, your eyes widen. You turn back around and start walking a bit faster.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He calls.
“I’m just looking for something.” You call over your shoulder at him.
“Me too.” He says. “And I think I just found it.”
“Uhm.” You stammer, turning to face him. “I was looking for a restaurant but I think it’s closed so I’m actually just gonna go-“
“Hey, hold on.” He says, grabbing your wrist before you can walk past him. “What’s the rush?”
“Hm? Oh! There’s- there’s no rush.” You shake your head with a nervous smile. “I just- I should be getting back. I-“
“Why’re you being like this? You’re hurting my feelings.” You try to pull your wrist free and his hold gets tighter. “I’m just tryna have a friendly conversation.”
“Well, I-“
“Let her go.” Someone else calls.
You and the man both turn around at the new voice. Your shoulders drop in relief when you see Luigi standing a few feet away.
“Who’re you?” The man asks with a frown.
“Doesn’t matter.” Luigi says calmly. “Let her go.”
“Look man, we’re in the middle of a con-“
“Conversation’s over.” Luigi cuts him off, staring pointedly at the hold he still has on your wrist. “Get your hand off of her before I break it.”
The man immediately lets go of your wrist, putting his hands up as he takes a step back.
“Whatever.” The man scoffs, starting to walk away. “This bitch ain’t worth it anyway.”
Luigi takes a step forward, prepared to go after him only for you to come to a stop right in front of him, blocking his way.
“Can we go back?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Luigi stares at the man, still considering going after him only for you to get his attention again when you call his name. Well, his fake name.
“Mark?” You say, smiling softly when Luigi looks back at you with an offended frown.
“Yeah.” He finally sighs, looking you over, making sure you’re okay before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Luigi turns around and starts making his way towards the bus station, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re still following him. After the third time, you fall into step beside him and grab onto his jacket sleeve. Luigi looks over his shoulder at you and you look up at him with a shy smile, silently asking if it’s okay. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he does let you keep holding onto him. He waits until you’re safely back at the station before scolding you.
“The hell were you thinking?” He asks, the moment you reach a table.
“What do you mean?” You ask, taking a seat and setting your bag down next to you.
Luigi mumbles to himself in Italian before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Dolcezza, you are a beautiful, unaccompanied woman in a strange city, at night.” He lists. “You should know better than going off on your own.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask.
Luigi takes such a deep breath that you think he’s gonna inhale his face mask.
“I don’t think you thought this through.” Luigi comments.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not too late. You can still turn around and go back.”
“What the hell? I’m not going back to New York because of one minor hiccup.” You scoff.
“Minor hiccup?” Luigi repeats. “You’ve been here for all of thirty minutes and you already had a run in with a scary man-“
“News flash, asshole. There are scary men everywhere.” You tell him harshly. “Why do you think I left?”
Luigi freezes at the news. So he was right. You are running from someone.
“You don’t have to skip town because of him.” Luigi offers. “You can go to the-“
“The cops?” You cut him off. “Yeah. Lot of good that does. All I got was a piece of paper saying he can’t come within 100 yards of me which does jack shit, by the way, considering the fact that he was still stalking me at all hours of the day.”
Luigi doesn’t have anything to say to that. And you don’t blame him.
“I was going to a restaurant, okay?” You tell him. “It was right around the corner, I thought I’d be fine. Obviously I didn’t know I was gonna run into anyone on my way there… I was just hungry…”
Luigi runs a hand down his face and lets out a sigh. He feels like such a dick right now. Grumbling to himself, he takes off his backpack and undoes the zipper, reaching in and placing the bag of sliders on the table. You look from the bag to Luigi in confusion, only for him to set his bottle of water down as well.
“Eat.” He orders, zipping his backpack up.
“… What about you?” You ask softly.
“I’m going to take a walk.” He sighs.
Luigi ends up buying himself some snacks from the vending machine before returning to the table.
“I thought I told you to eat.” He comments, frowning when he sees there’s still two sliders on the table.
“I did.” You nod. “These are yours.”
As soon as he sits down, you slide the food towards him with a grin. Luigi looks between the sliders and you before nodding his head.
“Thanks.” He says, reaching for a slider and unwrapping one.
“I should be the one thanking you.” You murmur sheepishly.
“Don’t.” Luigi cuts you off. “I’m no hero.”
Luigi pushes his hood back and takes off his mask and you finally get to see his face. You take in all his features; his thick brows and hypnotizing brown eyes, his plump lips, and strong jawline.
“What?” Luigi asks, crumpling the wrapper into a ball and reaching for the last slider.
“I was right.” You sigh dreamily, resting your head on your hand as you smile at him. “You are handsome.”
Luigi huffs in amusement, though you don’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.
“What’s dolcezza?” You ask curiously.
“It’s Italian.”
“You know italian?”
Luigi nods his head.
“Cool. What does it mean?” You continue to pry.
Luigi stares at you for a moment before finally telling you.
“Headache.” He says, taking another bite.
Your shoulders slump and Luigi snickers.
“Does it really?” You ask after a moment, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “Headache. Nuisance. A pain.”
“I don’t believe you.” You tell him, pulling out your phone. “I’m gonna look it up. How do you spell it?”
“Mm-mm.” He shrugs.
“You just said you know Italian! All of a sudden you don’t know?”
Luigi smiles smugly at you and you narrow your eyes at him.
“That’s it. Give it back.” You order, reaching for what’s left of his slider. “You don’t deserve it.”
“You gave it to me.” Luigi argues, leaning back in his seat so that you don’t reach him.
“You gave it to me first!”
Luigi shoves the last bite into his mouth and grins at you.
“You’re horrible.” You tell him simply before checking your phone for the time.
“Well, I’d say this has been fun, but it hasn’t.” You tease, standing up and grabbing your bag.
“Be careful.” Luigi warns, watching as you gather your belongings.
“Bye Mark.” You reply teasingly, turning around and making your way towards the next bus you’ll be riding.
After getting your ticket scanned, you board the bus, settling into a window seat and placing your duffle bag on the ground. You still have at least fifteen minutes before it's scheduled to depart, so you pull out your phone and start playing a game to pass the time.
Slowly, more and more people start to board, though you don’t pay them any mind. The driver is just about to close the door when one final person steps on.
“Cutting it pretty close, pal.” He complains before finally closing the door.
The man doesn’t say anything, just gets his ticket scanned and starts making his way down the rows of seats. You only look up when someone sits next to you. You gasp when you look to your right and see Luigi settling into the seat beside you.
“This seat taken?” He asks, knowing very well that it isn’t.
“What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly. “I thought you didn’t know where you were going next?”
“Yeah, I thought so too.” Luigi shrugs bashfully, face mask and hood back on. “But I think I just figured it out.”
Luigi’s graced with your beaming smile as you tell him how excited you are that you’re spending the next couple of hours together. He wordlessly nods along but the truth is, he’s just as excited.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You and Luigi spent the last couple hours talking. Well, you did most of the talking, Luigi mainly listened. He learned that you studied business in college but got burnt out after a few years. Now, you’re content working odd jobs. You’ve worked at a pizza parlor, a library, and a boutique. You’ve been an assistant for event coordinators, a receptionist for an attorney’s office and a mail processing clerk. He learned that you’ve been no contact with your family for years and that you never got a drivers license because living in New York, you didn’t really need one. However now you’re worried you’ll look silly going to driving school at twenty six.
You managed to get some information out of Luigi as well, with a lot of poking and prodding. You learned that aside from being handsome and sweet, he’s also ridiculously smart, having graduated from an Ivy League school. You learned that he’s from Maryland and his family still lives there though he hasn’t spoken to them for a few months. He didn’t say why and you didn’t ask. You learned that he’s Italian and he does speak it and he does know what dolcezza means, however he still won’t tell you. Much to your annoyance.
Now here you are, at the Harrison bus station at five o’clock in the morning with a man you’ve known for eight hours, but can’t see yourself traveling without. You don’t know when you’ll have to go your separate ways, but you’re already getting attached to him, so you suppose you should start preparing yourself for your eventual goodbye now.
“Do you need another hot pack?” You ask Luigi as you both wait for the bus driver to come back.
“No, it’s okay. This one is still working.” He shakes his head.
“What is it? Like sciatica?” You ask curiously.
“Spondylolisthesis actually.”
“Sponda-what?” You ask.
“Spondylolisthesis.” He repeats. “It’s a spine condition. Happens when a fracture causes your vertebrae to slip out of alignment.”
“Oh my god.” You exclaim, absolutely horrified. “That sounds painful.”
“It is.” Luigi nods.
“Sorry about your back pain.” You frown sympathetically. “I’d recommend getting it looked at but you know, health insurance here is a fucking con. That’s one scam I can’t afford.”
Luigi whips his head up to look at you.
“Huh?” He asks, because surely he didn’t hear you right.
“I mean, think about it! You pay your premium every single month, even if you don’t see a doctor that month. When you do see your doctor, you have to pay a copay for the visit. And then on top of the premium and the copay, you still get billed afterwards! It’s bullshit! Not to mention all that money they get out of you only to end up denying your medication or your procedures.” You continue to rant. “I’m not gonna pay some company to make me look like an idiot. There are plenty of guys in my DM’s willing to do that for free.”
“I take it you don’t have health insurance?” He asks.
“In this economy? I think the fuck not.” You shake your head.
“So what do you do when you’re sick?” Luigi asks curiously.
“Pray.” You say simply before bursting out laughing. Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused chuckle before clearing his throat.
“So what do you think about that CEO that-“
“Got murked?” You cut him off before waving your hand. “Man, fuck that guy.”
Luigi just sits there, silently staring at you, and you rush to finish proving your point.
“Okay, yes, murder is bad. We know that. Whatever. But you have to stop and ask yourself, how many people has he killed by denying them their medications? Or their treatment? The only difference between him and the shooter is that he does it without getting his hands dirty because he’s sitting behind a desk.”
Luigi can’t explain the warmth he feels in chest, seeing someone, seeing you be as educated and passionate as he is about everything. He’s starting to see that maybe you’re more alike than he thought. He’s finally starting to accept that maybe, you boarding his bus at the last minute wasn’t luck, but fate.
“You’re on his side, then? The shooter…” Luigi asks, wanting to be sure, needing to hear it bluntly from you.
“Oh, hell yeah.” You nod.
“But…they’re calling him dangerous on the news… A monster…” Luigi trails off.
“The news?” You ask with a roll of your eyes. “Please. Mainstream media is the worst place to get your information. They’ll spin the story whichever way they want so long as it continues to benefit the 1%.”
“Is he a murderer? Sure! Maybe. Who the fuck knows for certain.” You shrug. “But a monster?” You scoff. “He’s a human being. Just like you and me. At the end of the day, whether you’re a hero or a villain all depends on whether or not the government benefits from it.”
Luigi stares at you in complete awe.
“What?” You ask, shyly meeting his gaze.
“No. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just…you’re really something, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” You mumble, looking away and gasping when you see the driver walking towards the bus.
“Look! The bus driver’s back! Let’s go!”
You stand from your seat and bound towards the bus while Luigi watches you with a fond smile. You turn around and frown when you see that Luigi isn’t with you. Once you spot him, you wave your hand, urging him to hurry. He stands and grabs his backpack, putting his hood and face mask back on before following after you.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
When you and Luigi arrived in Altoona, more than anything you wanted to walk around and stretch your legs after spending so much time sitting. So that’s exactly what you did. You walked for about an hour before sitting down on a secluded bench in a park.
“Still don’t know where you’re going?” You ask Luigi.
“No, not really.” He shakes his head. “Why?”
You shrug your shoulders and look away but Luigi is having none of that. He gently grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, bringing your gaze back onto him.
“You’ve been running your mouth nonstop since the moment I met you. You choose now to go quiet?” He teases, frowning the tiniest bit when you don’t laugh along with him. “What’s wrong, dolcezza?”
“I still don’t know what that means.” You whine.
“Talk to me and maybe I’ll tell you.” Luigi offers.
“I just… I don’t know. I was thinking…” You start rambling nervously. “I don’t fuck with my family and you haven’t talk to yours in a while. And we both left New York and how funny that we met when we did and we happen to get along so well, right?”
“Right…” Luigi nods.
“And okay, so I don’t really have a plan. Just a vague, loose idea of one. But I was thinking, well, more like wondering, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up in conversation. And even now, I still don’t think this is the best way to go about it but-“
“Dolcezza, please.” He sighs, begging you to just get to the point already.
“Why don’t you come to L.A. with me?” You blurt out.
Luigi’s head reels back at the question. He isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
“Or I go with you… to… wherever you’re going next.” You offer. “But let’s stay together.”
“I just- I really like you.” You mumble shyly.
“I like you too.” Luigi admits with a smile.
“You do?”
“What’s not to like?” He asks, with a fond smile. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart.” He lists before cupping your cheek with his hand. “You’re everything, sweetheart.”
You get a boost of confidence at his confession, leaning forward and placing your lips upon his in a soft, gentle kiss. Luigi responds immediately, head tilting to the side as his mouth continues to move against yours. Luigi nips at your lower lip and you let out a gasp, causing him to chuckle. You hit his shoulder playfully as he presses a final firm kiss to your lips, pulling back and gazing at you with an awestruck smile.
“Yeah.” He finally breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear for you. “Let’s stay together.”
You smile excitedly at Luigi, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before standing up, pulling him with you.
“Great! So what’s next? Where do you wanna go?” You ask, right as your stomach grumbles.
“I feel like maybe we should eat first.” Luigi teases, chuckling at your sheepish smile. “Come on, I think I saw a McDonald’s a few blocks away.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You’ve just gotten your food when it all comes crashing down. You run to the bathroom, and a moment later two older gentlemen walk in. One of them makes a passing comment to his friend about how Luigi looks like the CEO shooter as they make their way to the register. Luigi doesn’t visibly react, though from the corner of his eye he catches the cashier continuously glancing at him.
Luigi lets out a long, tired sigh as he comes to the realization that this is it. The cashier disappears and he just knows she’s calling the FBI, telling them a murderer is in her establishment. He doesn’t regret any of his actions, not in New York and definitely not when he decided to follow you. The only thing he does regret is letting himself think that he’d have more time with you. Because now reality is sinking in that while the last twelve hours have been momentary bliss, any minute now it’ll all be ripped away from him- you’ll be ripped away from him.
Luigi quickly unzips his backpack, opening the side panel that held his cash. He takes the money out before folding it up and tucking it into your duffel bag. He then grabs your McMuffin, sliding it towards himself, making it seem like he’s the only one sitting here. You come back a minute later, sliding into your seat in the booth across from him with a smile.
“I’m back.” You announce with a grin.
“I need you to do something for me.” Luigi states urgently.
The cold tone of voice causes you to look up at him in concern.
“What?”
Under the table, he slides your duffle bag to you.
“I need you to walk out of here, and not look back.” He starts.
“What?” You repeat with a confused frown.
“Keep your head down and get out of here. As far as you can.” Luigi urges. “Get on another bus, hop on a train, buy yourself a ticket to L.A. like you wanted. I don’t care but you have to go.”
“Luigi, what the hell are you talking about? I-I thought we were sticking together… what’s going on?” You question.
“I’m not who you think I am.” Luigi admits, looking away with shame.
“I don’t think you’re anyone.” You shake your head with a laugh. “I…I just think you’re you… and I like you.”
“You can’t.” Luigi stresses.
“Lu, seriously, you’re scaring me.” You tell him. “What’s going on?”
“Dolcezza, please” He begs, quickly looking out the window and checking for cop cars. “Please. You have to get out of here. You have to go.”
“But…what about you?” You ask softly, eyes starting to water at the thought of leaving him behind, especially so suddenly.
Luigi smiles, desperately wanting to reassure you, though you don’t miss that his eyes are welling up too.
“I’ll be right behind you.” He nods with a sniffle.
With your bottom lip quivering, you nod; grabbing your duffle bag from under the table and standing up. You blink and the tears you were holding back start to fall. Not wanting Luigi to see you cry, not wanting to make this harder for either of you, you quickly turn away, sniffling as you make your way towards the side door.
Once you’re outside, you put the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder and walk across the street. Before the McDonald’s completely disappears from your line of sight, you turn around and see a swarm of cop cars in the parking lot.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“-CEO was shot early Wednesday morning outside the New York Hilton-“
Click.
“Officers then asked him for identification, and Mangione handed them a New Jersey driver's license bearing the name of a 26-year-old named Mark Rosario. Now that is the same name from a fake New Jersey ID used by a man to check into a Manhattan hostel more than a week before Thompson's killing.”
Click.
“-taken into custody at 9:14 a.m. for gun and forgery charges-“
“Man, this guy is everywhere.” Your coworker Jenny says, changing the tv to yet another channel reporting on Luigi.
“-interestingly though, during the hearing Mangione made an odd request.”
“That’s right, Diane.” The co-anchor says. “The judge allowed Mr. Mangione to receive phone calls from his family, but he didn’t want it; asking instead to send a message. Take a look.”
“Luigi,” His attorney warns. “I strongly advise against-“
“Two sentences.” Luigi barters, ignoring his attorney and looking straight at the judge. “That’s all I ask. Please.”
The judge looks towards his attorney who shrugs his shoulders, clearly just as clueless as she is.
“You can bring the message forward.” The judge tells his attorney. “I’ll decide if it’s safe to share or not.”
Luigi immediately scribbles something down on a notepad, before ripping a scrap of paper off and handing it to his attorney. The attorney reads what’s written and gives Luigi a look before approaching the bench and handing the paper to the judge.
“I wish we had more time together.” The judge reads aloud. “I’m sorry.”
“Thomas Dickey, Mangione’s attorney answered a few questions from the press; here’s what he had to say.”
“Mr. Dickey, what do you think about the note?”
“What can I say? He’s a real Casanova.” He shrugs.
“Mr. Dickey. That message has since gone viral online with many people wondering who he’s talking to. Any idea?”
“What is this a slumber party?” He asks with a chuckle. “A true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He says, causing the media to laugh. “I don’t know. Didn’t even know there was someone until he handed me the note. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”
“Hey, it’s pretty slow right now, do you wanna go take your break?” Jenny asks.
“Yeah,” You nod, giving her a small grin. “Sure.”
“Okay. See you in fifteen. Enjoy your break.”
You grab a pastry and a hot chocolate before heading to the break room.
You did what Luigi asked, booking yourself a plane ticket to L.A. When you got off the plane, all everyone was talking about was the CEO shooter being caught. You were shocked when you found out it was Luigi but not at all surprised to see the outpouring of support he was getting online.
The money he slipped into your bag helped you get by until you were able to get your bearings in Los Angeles. It paid for your hotel, your food, your clothes. Eventually you were able to find an affordable apartment for rent and managed to get a job at a cafe a few days later.
Through it all, you kept your head down and kept yourself busy, staying away from television and social media, if only because you weren’t strong enough to see Luigi everywhere you looked. Sitting in the break room, you open TikTok for the first time in days.
“Just when I thought he couldn’t be more perfect.” One user gushes in a video.
You swipe up, seeing what the next video is.
“So apparently this guy is the total package.” Another user says, this one a man himself. “Smart, rich, ridiculously good looking, and romantic? Oh man. I feel like I should just gift wrap my wife and hand her over at this point.” He jokes with a laugh. “I mean, he is on a whole other level.”
You chuckle before swiping up again.
Immediately the woman on your screen starts screaming.
“Bro.” She gushes. “I wish we had more time together? I’m sorry?? Hello?? I’m ughhhhh.” She groans, throwing herself onto her bed. “You can see it in his eyes. He really meant that. Whoever she is, you just know that she means so much to him. And the fact that he probably just got ripped away from her. I’m-“ she brings a pillow up to her face and lets out a blood curdling scream.
You swipe up again.
This video is different. It’s a clip of Luigi looking over his shoulder during the hearing. He looks right at the camera and it’s almost as if he’s staring right at you. The sound on the video is a loop of the judge reading his note out loud. You spend the rest of your break watching that video.
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
When your timer goes off, you download the video, saving it to your camera roll before heading back out.
“I wish we had more time together, too.” You sigh to yourself, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.
More Posts from Slapmewithacroc and Others
Dying For (Adrian Chase/Vigilante x fem!reader)
Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of stalking, Adrian has a praise kink (also a bit of a sub here), mentions of blood/injury, stitches, mentions of violence, vaginal fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, thigh riding, (lmk if I missed anything please!!)
You awake to the sound of shattering glass.
Fucking great.
The one time you’re home alone, house sitting for you parents, shit like this happens—
You throw your comforter off in a great flourish and vault from your bed. Goobie, your parent’s old, wrinkly basset hound, one wrong breath away from yeeting off this mortal coil, begins to bay at the foot of your bed. Chilly air caresses your bare thighs, the hardwood floors turning your toes to ice. You grab your brother’s baseball bat that rests besides your dresser as Goobie howls at the door. More glass splinters and cracks, stemming from the living room.
A life in Evergreen is never overwhelmingly busy—especially without a job. Only thing you frequently find yourself doing nowadays is participating in a long standing rivalry between you, a broom, and and the congregation of overly curious raccoons that have sequestered themselves in your backyard. One night—one fucking night you left out a box of Cheez-Its and now they think it’s easy pickings—
They’ve grown bold, you think, to physically manifest inside your living room. It’s fine. Totally cool.
Except—
As you open your door, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shitty underwear, prepared to beat back the surge of grubby, little thieves, you’re met with—
Well…you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, to be quite frank.
Keep reading
argyle saying “got me stressed out its not even my girlfriend” was the funniest line for me this season we need to talk about that
Soulbound Ch 3
1st Person POV:
Bobby is sitting in his make-shift library while Sam sits at a desk in the kitchen. I sit across from him while Dean paces around the room. Dean and I had just finished telling them about what happened while Sam was MIA and Bobby was ever so gently knocked unconscious by an angel.
"Well, then tell me what else it could be." Sam sighed, resting his forehead on his fist.
Dean leans forward slightly, "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel."
"Dean I saw his wings, his friggin' wings! Is that not proof enough?" I throw my hands up in exasperation.
"No! You wanna know why? Because I didn't see 'em! Why the hell are you the only ones that can anyway? I mean, Bobby didn't!" Dean raises his voice a little, gesturing his hand towards Bobby, who's just reading in one of his many books.
"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" Sam's voice is calmer than his brother's, quieter.
"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean argues. I rub my forehead in frustration, these Winchesters always being the argumentative type.
"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" My voice starts to raise as well, feeling more and more overstimulated by each passing moment. I roll my eyes as Dean picks up a slice of pizza, sniffs it and tosses it back in the box. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" Dean waves his hands around, irritated.
Sam smirks softly, "Yeah. You just did, Dean."
"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me."
"Dean, we have a theory." I argue.
Dean stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, putting his hands on his hips, "Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."
"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we --" Sam starts before Dean interrupts.
"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" Dean yells.
Bobby interjects, looking up at us, "You three chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?"
The boys and I walk over to Bobby's desk, "I got stacks of lore -- Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."
"What else?" Dean asks, making me smack his shoulder.
"What else, what?" Bobby's eyebrows crinkle at the question.
"What else could do it?"
Bobby folds his hands in front of him on his lap, "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing. And nothing on why (Y/N) can see his wings while you can't."
"Dean, this is good news." Sam beams.
"How?" Dean furrows his eyebrows and looks at his brother.
"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" Sam says, a little too excited about angels being real.
"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean's tone still holds disbelief.
"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby shrugs.
"I don't know, guys." Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead.
"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam waves his hands around.
"Proof?" Dean narrows his eyes.
"Yes." I say incredulously.
Dean raises his voice again, "Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."
"Why not?" I cross my arms over my chest and shift my weight to my left leg.
"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?" Dean's voice breaks.
"Dean --," Sam starts but Dean interrupts him.
"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."
"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam smiles a little.
"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God." Dean scoffs.
"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." I clap my hand on his shoulder.
A silence passes over us before Dean clears his throat, "Fine. What do we know about angels?"
My mouth falls open slightly as Bobby plops half a dozen heavy books in front of us, "Start reading." The older man says.
Dean's eyes widen and he looks at Sam, "You're gonna get me some pie." Then he grabs the top book from the pile. I sigh and grab the second book, plopping onto the couch and opening it.
~~~~~~~
1st Person POV:
Sam pulls up in the Impala as Bobby, Dean and I load the trunk of Bobby's car. Bobby tosses a brown duffel bag in it then walks up to Sam, telling him about his plan for us to go see a friend of his, Olivia Lowry. Dean walks around to the driver's side while I go to the backseat, Bobby going to his own car.
"Scoot over." Dean all but demands.
"Yeah." Sam responds, looking a little concerned. Dean grabs the bag of food from Sam and rifles around inside it. "Dude?" Dean doesn't look up from the bag.
"Yeah?" Sam looks at his brother while I giggle, knowing where this is going.
Dean looks at his brother, wide-eyed, "Where's the pie?"
~~~~~~~
We all walk into Olivia's house, all armed with guns and Bobby calling out to his friend. "Olivia?" I round the corner with the boys, seeing the woman dead on the floor, bloody and mangled. Bobby says nothing as he walks out of the room and out the front door.
"Bobby?" I follow him out, wanting to make sure he was okay. I see Bobby on his phone, dialing someone else's number. "Bobby?" He looks up at me, trying not to show just how distraught he is and failing. "Are you okay, Bobby?" He nods silently, bringing his phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he sighs and tries another number. He repeats this process a couple times, growing a little agitated. Bobby puts his down again, putting his other hand on my shoulder and leading me back inside silently.
"Bobby, you all right?" Dean asks him. Sam stands up from his position, previously crouched over Olivia's body.
Bobby keeps his hand on my shoulder, maybe a little worried if I wander too far I'll end up like Olivia, "I called some hunters nearby..."
"Good. We can use their help." Dean grimaces down at the corpse.
"...except they ain't answering their phones either." Bobby finishes.
Sam looks at Bobby sympathetically, "Something's up, huh?"
"You think?" Bobby leads me back outside, I can feel Sam and Dean's eyes boring into our backs.
~~~~~~~
Dean, Sam and I are driving to another hunter's house, a friend of Bobby's named Jed. Dean's been calling him every once and a while on the drive with no answer. "Jed, Dean Winchester again -- friend of Bobby Singer's. Look, we think something's happening. We think it's happening to hunters. Just want to make sure you're okay. Call me back."
Dean hangs up the phone and sets it on the dash as he drives, "Damn it."
I sigh softly, not having much hope that Jed is still alive, or anyone that Bobby has called.
~~~~~~~
"We're at Jed's. It's not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?" Dean speaks to Bobby through the phone as we walk down the front porch steps. After Bobby's response Dean speaks again, "What the hell is going on here, Bobby? Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?" More silence as Bobby speaks, then Dean says, "We're on our way."
~~~~~~~
Dean is driving, on the phone, trying to get ahold of Bobby. Sam is in the passenger seat with bruises on his face, I try to assess his injuries, distracting myself from the growing anxiety of my surrogate father not answering his God damn phone.
"Damn it, Bobby! Pick up!" Dean yells, looking at his phone, then putting it back up to his ear.
"How you feeling, huh? How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask Sam, holding up three fingers.
"None. I'll be fine, (Y/N)."
"Henriksen?" Dean asks.
"The FBI dude?" I raise my eyebrow. Dean and I were both asleep in the Impala when Sam was attacked in the bathroom, Dean saving him with salt rounds, while I took the gas pump out of the car, unaware.
"Yep." Sam nods.
"Why? What did he want?" I ask, leaning back against my seat, arms crossed over my chest.
"Revenge, 'cause we got him killed." Sam sighs.
"Sam." Dean says sternly.
"Well, we did, Dean." Sam tilts his head.
"All right. Stop right there. Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get ahold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't think at all." Dean scolds, rather harshly, speeding to Bobby's.
~~~~~~~
Dean, Sam and I enter the house, guns cocked and ready. "Bobby?" I call out, moving throughout the first floor.
"Bobby?" Dean calls. He snaps his fingers, pointing to a fire poker on the floor.
"I'll go. You check outside." I gesture to the stairs, the boys nodding and going outside to the junkyard. I go upstairs, searching for Bobby, calling his name every once in a while. A door slams next to me, making my head whip to my right. Another door shuts at the end of the hall, then the last one opens.
"Come out, come out, whoever you are." I say as I slowly make my way down the hall. My breath becomes visible.
"(Y/N) Singer. Or should I say (L/N). Still so bossy." I turn around, seeing a woman a little older than me with (h/l) (h/c) hair. "You don't recognize me?"
My eyebrows crinkle, remembering a picture of my mom and dad Bobby grabbed when he found me. My mother was standing before me, looking as she did when I was a baby, albeit a bit dirty.
My mother takes a step forward, "This is what I looked like when you were tiny. You were only a few months old when that demon killed me and your dad."
"Mom?" I tear up a little, letting my guard down slightly.
She smiles lovingly, "Hi. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, baby."
"You're my mom. Bobby saved a picture of you for me..."
"I'm glad he did, so you could recognize me now. You were too young to remember that demon possessing me. Too young to remember the demon in my body killing your daddy right in front of you. Then Bobby Singer showed up, your little self screaming and crying in your crib. The demon made me stab myself. So when Bobby exorcised the demon, I died too." She takes slow steps towards me.
"I'm sorry, Mom." I try to keep my tears at bay.
"Oh, yeah? So sorry that you're the reason the demon was there?" She tilts her head.
"W-What? What do you-?" My mom cuts me off, yelling.
"That demon was there for you! You're the reason your father and I are dead! It's all your fault! Without you, your dad would still be alive! I would still be alive!"
I sniffle, flinching slightly as a tear falls, "How is it my fault!? I was a baby!"
My mother takes another step forward, hitting me with a right hook, making me fall to the floor. My gun clatters to the floor and she kicks it away. "Mom." I grunt, bringing myself to my elbows before she kicks me in the face. I groan and roll onto my back. "I was a baby..."
My mom scoffs, crouching in front of me, "No...you're apparently more than that. Important enough that demons wanted you. Do you know what you are?"
"No, I don't." My voice comes out strained.
She grabs the collar of my shirt, I glance down, seeing a brand on her hand. "Of course not. Not a clue that the angel on your shoulder is the reason I'm like this..."
"What are you talking about?"
She shoves me back down, sending another harsh kick to my ribs. She stands over me, continuing her monologue, "Your daddy worshipped you. He was gonna be at your beck and call as his little girl. He died protecting you. He died because he was determined to not let that thing have you."
"Mom."
"You were the best thing to happen to us. We were already planning when to give you a little brother or sister. Picturing you running around with your sibling, being a mentor. But when that demon told your dad what you are, speaking with my voice! It's all your fault! I wish I never had you!"
Another tear falls down my cheek, I'm not sure if it's from physical pain or emotional at this point. "I'm sorry, Mom."
She grits her teeth and kicks me again. I grunt and get to my hands and knees, trying to crawl away, I probably have a broken rib...or two. I lay back down on the ground, pulling a pistol from my boot. I aim it at my mother, glaring slightly.
"Oh come on. Are you really that stupid? You can't get rid of me with regular bullets." My mother taunts.
"I'm not shooting you." I grunt, aiming my gun up to a chandelier, shooting the chain. It falls and immediately makes my mom disappear. "Iron. Bitch." I groan in pain, laying there for a moment.
~~~~~~~
Sam, Dean, Bobby and I are in the study, the boys looking away from me as my shirt is sitting on my shoulders so I can wrap an ace bandage on my ribs. Dark bruising covers my ribs and stomach, making me wince.
"So, they're all people we know?" Sam questions, his arms out disbelievingly.
"Not just know. People that died because of us. I saw something on my mom's hand, and I don't think she had any tattoos on her hands, it looked like a brand." I huff, struggling with the bandage. Sam walks over and helps me wrap it around myself, being gentle and not letting his eyes wander.
"I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen." He says.
"What did it look like?" Bobby asks.
Sam finishes wrapping my ribs, standing back up from his kneeling position, "Uh, paper?" Bobby hands him a piece of paper and a pencil, "Thanks." He begins to sketch the symbol on the paper. I pull my shirt back on as Sam shows me the symbol and I nod, "that's it."
Sam shows it to Bobby, "I may have seen this before." He says as the radio starts up and lights flicker, "We got to move."
Bobby hands Sam a couple books, "Follow me."
"Okay, where are we going?" Sam asks.
Bobby looks at Sam like he grew another head, "Some place safe, you idjit."
Bobby picks up a couple more books and leads us into the basement. We walk to the back of the basement and Bobby opens a big, solid iron door. We walk inside, the boys looking rather impressed, meanwhile I helped Bobby set this up a long time ago. The light turns on, revealing the devil's trap on the floor. It has a bed, weapons rack, desk and a couple other things. Bobby shuts the door and sets the books down.
"Bobby, is this..." Sam starts.
"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof." He nods, a little bit of boasting in his tone.
"You built a panic room?"
"I had a weekend off." Bobby shrugs.
"Bobby." Dean says.
"What?"
Dean holds up a rifle Bobby had on the gun rack, "You're awesome." Dean smiles and looks at the wall, seeing a poster of a swimsuit model. Obviously not my idea. "Oh."
~~~~~~~
Sam, Dean and I are making salt rounds at the table, while Bobby is writing something down at the desk nearby. A heavy silence hangs in the air as Sam and Dean glance at each other. Dean speaks up first, "See, this is why I can't get behind God."
"What are you talking about?" Sam's eyebrows crinkle.
"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is." Dean looks back at Bobby then back at Sam and I. "There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?" Sam looks over at Bobby, silently asking for help with this conundrum.
"I ain't touching this one with at 10-foot pole." Bobby chuckles nervously.
"Yeah." Dean scoffs.
Bobby taps his pencil on the book in front of him, "Found it."
"What?" I ask.
"The symbol you saw -- the brand on the ghosts..."
Sam nods, "Yeah?"
"Mark of the Witness." Bobby flips a page in the book, pointing to the symbol.
"Witness? Witness to what?" My eyebrows furrow, a confused look on my face.
"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts -- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose." Bobby informs.
"Who?" I ask, irritation lacing my tone at the thought of someone doing that to my poor mother.
"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'the rising of the witnesses.' It figures into an ancient prophecy."
"Wait, wait. What -- what book is that prophecy from?" Dean asks, him and Sam standing up and walking over to Bobby. I stay at the table, ignoring the dull throbbing in my ribs.
"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short -- Revelations. This is a sign, kids."
I rub my forehead, "A sign of what?"
Bobby leans back in his chair, glancing from me to the boys, "The apocalypse."
"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?" Dean asks incredulously.
"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker."
"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam interrogates.
Dean scoffs, walking back to the table, "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." He claps his hands. "Bunny Ranch." Dean sits back down with me at the table.
"We're not going to Carson City." I cross my legs, resisting the urge to throw one of these salt rounds at him.
"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby rocks slightly in the desk chair.
"Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?" Dean tilts his head.
Bobby taps his pencil on the page in front of him, "It's a spell to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."
"Should. Great." Sam chuckles.
"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house." Bobby says hopefully.
Dean smiles. "Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?"
"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby says with his signature sass. He stands up, walking to the gun rack, "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."
"The fireplace in the library." Sam states.
"Bingo."
Dean looks between Bobby, Sam and I, "That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Sam sighs and we start preparing to leave the panic room.
"Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?" Bobby asks after we've loaded our guns and got things ready. Bobby pushes open the door, all of us aiming our guns and ready to fire. We round the corner to the stairs, seeing a man with dark, curly hair sitting near the top.
The man looks up, smiling a little, "Hey, Dean. You remember me?"
Dean smiles as well, "Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you."
"I am dead because of you. You were supposed to help me!" Ronald yells, standing up.
Bobby shoots Ronald with a salt round, making him disappear, "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk."
Sam, Bobby, Dean and I get up the stairs and into the living room, I help Sam pour a salt circle while Dean starts the fire in the fireplace. Bobby looks at Sam, "Upstairs, linen closet -- red hex box. It'll be heavy."
"Got it." Sam nods and goes upstairs.
Two little girls appear, both with dark hair and dirty dresses. "Bobby." One of them says. I shoot them bot before they can get another word out.
"Kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood." Bobby tells me.
"Opium?"
"Go!" Bobby yells at me.
I go into the kitchen and rifle through the cutlery drawer, grabbing what Bobby asked for under a false bottom in the drawer, when I hear another gunshot, meaning one of the boys shot another ghost. The doors to the kitchen close suddenly. "(Y/N)?" Bobby yells for me, worry in his tone.
"I'm all right, Bobby! Keep working!" I see Henrikson appear next to me out of the corner of my eye, grabbing my wrist, "Victor."
"(Y/N)." His voice is full of malice, of hatred.
"I know."
He scoffs, "No. You don't."
"It's our fault you're dead. We left you behind. And the minute I heard about that explosion, I thought, 'I should've known.' We should've protected you." I reach behind me to grab my shotgun, but it's flung across the room.
"Unh-unh. Not so fast." I look at my discarded gun then back at Henrikson, "You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a beautiful blast of... white light? If only. 45 minutes."
My eyebrows furrow in confusion, "What?"
Henrikson continues, "Over 45 minutes. Lilith said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first. Remember her? Nancy, the virgin. Lilith filleted Nancy's skin off piece by piece. Right in front of us, made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming."
"No." I could feel the guilt racking my brain.
"I was the last."
"Victor..." I start, full of remorse. Henrikson reaches into my chest, gripping my heart, making me grunt and grit my teeth. "Tell me how it's fair. Dean gets saved from Hell -- I die. Why does he deserve another chance, (Y/N)?"
Henrikson sighs, my eyes shutting as my vision starts to fade, before a loud gunshot makes my ears ring. Henrikson's hand disappears from my chest and I crumble to the ground, gasping and coughing.
"You all right?" Sam kneels next to me as I grasp my chest where Henrikson's hand was.
I wince, "No."
"Let's go." Sam helps me to my feet. He opens the kitchen door, carrying the hexbox while I bring in the bowl of ingredients. We set them on the desk in front of Bobby and he starts putting things together. Ronald appears again as Dean is reloading his gun.
"Ronald. Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals." Dean smiles a little, putting the salt rounds in his gun.
"That's when I was breathing. Now I'm gonna eat you alive." Ronald smiles back.
Dean chuckles, "Well...come on, I'm not a cheeseburger." Dean cocks his gun and points it at Ronald, but Ronald has vanished. Bobby recites some Latin words and the windows blow open and a wind fills the room. The wind breaks the salt circle, leaving us vulnerable. Meg appears and Sam quickly shoots at her, as Bobby continues to recite the spell. My mother materializes in front of me, Dean shooting her.
Ronald appears and I shoot him. Sam, Dean and I continue to fire as the ghosts show up. My mom appears again and knocks my gun out of my hands. I quickly pick up an iron rod and swing it at her. Meg comes into view and pushes Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam grunts as he tries to push the desk away without success.
Dean shouts, "Sam!"
"Cover Bobby!" His brother responds, his voice strained.
Bobby continues to recite the spell as Sam keeps trying to get out from behind the desk. The two little are sitting on the desk in front of Sam. Meg plunges a hand into Bobby's back, making him drop the bowl with spell ingredients with a grunt. Bobby yells at me in a strained voice as I catch the bowl, "(Y/N)! Fireplace!"
I throw the bowl in the fire, which turns blue. Dean grabs me and pulls me from the fire as a bright light explodes in the room and we shield our eyes. When we look around the ghosts are gone and Bobby falls to the floor.
"Bobby?" I call to him, concerned.
Sam pushes the desk away from him while Dean nd I go over to Bobby. The boys help him up and I stand in front of him, looking at his face. Bobby nods, telling us he is okay.
~~~~~~~
3rd Person POV:
The couch where (Y/N) was supposed to be sleeping was empty. Sam and Dean are asleep on the floor nearby when the sound of wings wake up Dean. He looks up to find Castiel standing in the kitchen. Dean checks on Sam and sees he is asleep. He looks to the couch, seeing it empty and he grows concerned and walks over to join Castiel, who is leaning against the sink.
"Where's (Y/N)?" Dean asks him.
"She is outside, she is safe." He says, monotone. "Excellent job with the witnesses."
"You were hip to all this?" Dean asks incredulously.
Castiel nods, "I was, uh, made aware."
"Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, (Y/N) almost got her heart ripped out of her chest. Not to mention some broken ribs." Dean says angrily.
"I know. And I'm sorry. I plan on talking to her after I'm done with you." He says, the same guilt on his face that he had when he was reminded about blinding Pamela.
Dean furrows his eyebrows. "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."
"Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."
"Yeah? Then, why didn't you fight?" Dean interrogates.
Castiel continues in his monotone voice, "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." He puts emphasis on 'your'.
Dean looks at the angel with offense, "Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"
"There's a God."
"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"
Castiel sighs, "The Lord works..."
Dean interrupts him, "If you say 'mysterious ways' so help me, I will kick your ass." Castiel puts his hands up momentarily in surrender, "So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse."
The angel nods, "That's why we're here. Big things afoot."
"Do I want to know what kind of things?"
"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals." Castiel states.
"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld." Dean says sarcastically.
"Those seals are being broken by Lilith."
Dean nods in understanding, "She did the spell. She rose the witnesses."
"Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead." Castiel informs.
"Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."
"Lilith has a certain sense of humor."
"Well, we put those spirits back to rest."
Castiel shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. The seal was broken."
"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean asks.
"You think of the seals as locks on a door."
"Okay. Last one opens and..." Dean trails off.
Castiel stands up straight, "Lucifer walks free."
"Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing."
"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?" Castiel asks.
Dean makes the realization, "To stop Lucifer."
"That's why we've arrived."
"Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice." Dean gives the angel attitude.
"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." Castiel threatens before he vanishes from Dean's sight.
~~~~~~~
1st Person POV:
A flutter of wings makes me jump as I sit on the hood of one of Bobby's junk cars, my knees curled to my chest. Castiel stands in front of me, a gentle smile on his face, his wings folded behind him.
"Hello (Y/N)," He greets, his voice monotone.
"Hi Castiel," I give him a polite smile back.
"Good job with the witnesses, I'm glad to see you alive." He nods once, taking a step forward. "But I was made aware that you're injured."
"A, uh, a couple broken ribs, I'll be okay."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you," Castiel apologizes.
"It's alright, you're busy, I get it." I hum and smile softly.
"May I...heal you?"
I give him a look of surprise and I nod. Castiel brings two fingers to my forehead and I close my eyes, honestly preparing to hurt some. But instead, the dull throbbing of my ribs completely disappears in seconds. "Thank you Castiel."
He smiles again, "Thank you for letting me."
"C-Can I ask you something?" I stutter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his light blue ones.
"Anything." He answers honestly.
"Today, one of the witnesses was my mother. Her and my dad were killed by a demon when I was a baby. My mom said the demon was after me, that's why it was there. Because of the 'angel on my shoulder'. Do you know what she meant?" I ask, using air quotes.
Castiel nods, looking down at the ground, he seemed almost...nervous. "It's because your soul is tied to...my grace. Which could be harnessed in a way that can cause both of us great harm, even death."
"W-What do you mean? 'Tied to your grace'? Is that why I can see your wings?" My thoughts are going a thousand miles a minute.
The angel sighs and nods again, taking another step forward. "Every angel has a soul they are tied to. But not every soul is tied to an angel. I believe the term humans use is 'soulmate.'"
I look at Castiel like he grew a second head, "So what? I'm destined to be with you or something?"
His eyebrows crinkle and he shakes his head quickly, "No, you still have the free will to choose that. It's more like I am your guardian angel. My father, he wanted to give us something to...live for. A lot of angels never meet the soul they are bound to, some die before they do. But the humans they are bound to, they are almost always reborn, or reincarnated. Unless that soul is sent to Hell."
"I-I'm sorry, that's a lot to take in." I interrupt before he can continue.
He nods once more, fidgeting with the sleeve of his trenchcoat, "I felt like this isn't something I should keep from you. You deserve to know."
"Uh, yeah. Thanks Castiel." I nod, swallowing thickly.
Castiel's wings spread out a little, "I-I need to get going. Just know that if you pray to me, I will be there as soon as I can. I will always be someone you can count on."
(A/N:) 5.3k words later. This was really long, so I hope you like long chapters. This would have been out sooner but my daughter's first birthday was on March 30th. I've learned these take about 3-4 days to write so I will try to post at least twice a week. Thank you for reading and I hope the exposition at the end made sense.
Cardan and Juliette collaborating tho💀
Blooming
“Little spring chicken you are!” he smiles, “You’re too young for me to take you out.” or She’s in love with Bradley Bradshaw and he thinks she’s too young.
Warning: Contains curse words and a brief mention of porn, mention of an age gap
A/N: Welcome to my new series, Blooming, where age and Rooster’s commitment issues come to light. Stay awhile, and enjoy 8.1k words telling the story of our favorite naval aviator in Fightertown, California.
Read Blooming II and Blooming III here.
i.
To say that (Y/N) is bored is an understatement.
She’s sure her brain will fucking melt if she doesn’t find something to do soon. She’s hoping that if it does, it’ll be an ooey-gooey mess that’ll seep out of her ears and straight to the floor. Morbidly, she prays that it would also be sticky (preferably the consistency of melted spearmint gum left in the car on a blistering summer day) because then she’ll have to scrub up the mess. And if that does happen, she’ll thank her lucky stars because at least then she’ll have something to do that would hopefully preoccupy her time and save her from mindlessly drying shot glasses at the Hard Deck before they open.
Keep reading
Avatar The Way of Water spoilers without context:
Feyd Rautha would understand the gravity of impregnating a member of the Bene Gesserit. The promise of a powerful heir born with the voice and truthsaying abilities meant a stable driving force for House Harkonnen with ties to those closest to The Emperor. But when you grow a swollen stomach, round and full with his child, the political chess moves are far from his mind.
The Na-Baron is obsessed. At first you note his unwillingness to leave your side, refusing to take to the arena and slay Harkonnen prisoners while you are with child. His dual hunting blades gather dust, Feyd choosing instead to pose his aggression against any male Harkonnen that dares look your way.
Usually unaffectionate, Feyd lays claim to you by placing his hands on you often. His palm presses against the swell of your stomach, feeling the tiny kicks of the child inside. It almost makes him more protective, insisting he, alone, protect you.
Seperate from prying eyes, Feyd cannot keep his hands, his lips, off you.
“You witch,” he hisses between heavy kisses, his firm grip hoisting your thighs over his hips, “You have poisoned me— Bewitched me with your Gesserit powers.”
But when Feyd sinks his cock deep inside you, his palms splayed across your swollen stomach, he’s too busy growling out your name to accuse you of sorcery. In truth, Feyd Rautha would readily fill you with his seed again and again to watch you swell with more of his children.
dune masterlist
Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x
Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝
Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!
Good Luck Charm
Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬
Word count: 3,142
The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.
Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.
Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.
Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.
"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.
When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.
You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.
When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.
He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"
"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"
You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.
"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"
"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.
He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.
"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."
You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.
"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.
"Always."
He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.
"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"
You put the cap on your head.
"And what do you have in mind hmm?"
"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.
"Why did you come here alone?"
"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.
He doesn't move.
"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.
"It doesn't have to be."
"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."
He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.
"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.
You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.
"Yes?"
"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.
"Please what, little one?"
He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.
"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.
"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.
Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.
You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.
Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.
"We should stop this."
"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.
"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.
"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.
He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.
"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."
"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.
"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.
As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.
"Leave them on."
He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.
"Did you tease me on purpose?"
"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.
"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"
"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."
"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.
"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."
He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.
When he gets between your legs he stops.
"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."
He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.
Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.
"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.
"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.
"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.
"Can I take them off?"
"No."
He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.
"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."
With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.
"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.
"Please what?"
"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.
You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.
"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."
With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.
"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."
He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.
He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.
The thought makes you almost ready to go again.
"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."
He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.
"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.
"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."
You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.
Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.
You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.
"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"
You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.
His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.
"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.
"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.
He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.
You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.
"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.
"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"
"Yeah, I can daddy."
"Good girl."
Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.
You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.
Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.
Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.
You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.
It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.
He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.
It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.
One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.
Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.
"You're so tight mi amor."
You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.
It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.
You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.
It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.
He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.
"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.
"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."
He huffs out a laugh.
"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."
"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.
"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."
You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.
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