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peterspinkrobe · 9 months

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Revelation - Priest!Miguel x Reader [part 3]

Word count: 2,878

Rating/Warnings: mature. Naughty thoughts and naughty bits. Mentions of parental death, religious content, food, soooo much Catholic guilt.

A/N: I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the series so far! No more money in my budget for commissioned art this month, but I did take this picture of St. Phillip’s Church while visiting my uncle in Charleston. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! If you haven’t read part 1 or part 2, go do that first :p

Tagged peeps: @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts @hoelychildofgod @tayleighuh @luckycandykitten @beebslebobs @milkyardbetter @miaasmf @koimess @miggyswhore (sorry if I missed you in the taglist or if it messed up the tag!!!)

There were two things known about your mother: her cooking and her follow through. She was the delegate for church and community event meals; oftentimes in the kitchen doing the work herself alongside people that respected her and her cooking.

Your mother prided herself in her cooking and it kept her going in times of hurt for you both. She was the one baking casseroles to give to neighbors when dad passed. It was you who had to sit her down to eat something most days.

If God had anything to do with her getting better, it was in giving her that ability to provide in a way some overlooked. She buzzed while she worked her talents in the church’s kitchen now. The previously mentioned follow through evident in her meticulous manner of cleaning right behind herself as she cooked.

That follow through was especially true now as she was making sure you followed the rules she had set in place regarding church and attendance. Not only were you going this Sunday since you missed the last service, but you were also helping with the Wednesday church dinner.

You know she wants the best for you. It took you a long time (and a lot of space) to see that she showed it in the ways she knew how, the ways she was raised. You try to sprinkle the amount of salt she showed you earlier onto the massive amount of rolls. Despite your physical presence where she asked, you know your hearts and values don’t lie within the boundaries of shared faith.

You didn’t mind the service aspect of religion though. In fact, you enjoyed assisting your mother when she helped others in the community. You only pretended to follow the ‘good book’ and ‘walk the righteous path’ to spare her. What you had issues with was the institution of religion itself and some probably never-to-be-resolved personal qualms with the man upstairs. First, why did god have to be a man?

You’d never admit these questions and doubts to her, it would devastate her.

You did, however, admit it to someone.

Your confession last Thursday and the fact that Reverend Miguel was on the receiving end of all your revelations had you waking up suddenly in the night this past week - jolting from the bed, a quickening pulse, and sweat dampening the sheets. The concern in his deep, dark-eyed stare from that day stuck with you. You felt shame, guilt, maybe both, or something else unnamed and it kept you from indulging in the pleasure he had so easily made you feel without even being in the room. You still felt tense knots in your shoulders as you worked.

It was easy to feign sickness when you actually felt feverish and drained after you’d let those inner thoughts become spoken truths.. Your mother worried when you wouldn’t come out of your room. When you missed (skipped) church, she showed her concern and care with homemade chicken noodle soup. Moping, unbothered lasted only another day before she was yanking covers off you and having you run errands around town. ‘Getting back on your feet is the first step to feeling better,’ she retorted to your groans early that Monday morning. No more laying out of church…

You had to think of another way to avoid him. A way to steer clear of any sort of confrontation

You thought about moving away, dramatic, yes, but maybe into the city. Not too far from mom, because she needed help more than she admitted. Tonight was a prime example as her usual kitchen hands said they weren’t feeling well. This was helpful in negating any suspicions your mom had of you lying about being ill. Moving wouldn’t be running away, you were an adult.

You had literally run away though. As soon as the reality of who had taken your confession set in, you ran right out of that booth, back into the bustling city, onto the bumpy bus, and curled up into yourself at home. As you’re thinking about the many help wanted signs and rent postings you saw in the city, you hear chatter that interrupts the flow you two had created in the kitchen.

Mom is being pulled away by another member of the church and she instructs you to make two plates for the people who weren’t able to help her with cooking this evening. You’re pulling the last of the vegetables out of the oven and she hovers a moment, uncomfortable leaving you to the important final preparations.

It’s hard not to feel offended. Five years ago you would have rolled your eyes and commented on how if she didn't trust you, you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you assure her as you wash your hands before preparing their plates, “I’ve got this.” You smile gently at her for you know you both need reassurance at times. She pinches her lips together but nods and leaves you alone.

Styrofoam to-go plates were open on the counter, waiting to receive their fill. You eyed the dinner and patted yourself on the back. Mom thought up the meal and did most of the actual ingredient brain power and temperature controls, but you’d done your part as well. It did feel good to do for others even if you still felt down.

A wide pan of meatloaf with a perfect caramelized sauce on top sat as the main course. Alongside it was some cabbage slaw and a broccoli cheddar bake. You make the to-go plates with equal portions and top them each with a roll. Your favorite part were the green onion rolls and you couldn't help but sneak one as the hours of prep and cooking left you famished.

You placed foil over the containers of your mom’s truly famous strawberry cobbler for it to cool when everyone ate. Most of the produce has come from the local farms. You savored the first bite of the fresh roll and marinated on the flavors of home, wondering if you could really leave this behind again.

You’re setting out the plates and silverware for the church members when you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to tell your mom that you’d made the plates, but it’s not her that now joined you in the kitchen.

Tense shoulders, little sleep… you were as tight as a coil ready to spring so you jumped a little when you saw the towering figure as you turned.

Reverend O’Hara’s eyes showed the same concern from last week, but softer. His feet shuffled slightly and he put his hands up as if he had approached an animal in the wild. He had a hesitant, more nervous aura than the suave confidence he usually eluded.

He opened his mouth to speak and you heard him say your name again in that sweet voice…

______________________________________

Standing before you now, Deacon Miguel found himself reflecting on the unexpected confession he heard last week. It was a confession that had stirred within him a mix of emotions and conflicting thoughts.

Miguel had contemplated how to address this delicate situation for it simply couldn’t go ignored. You matter. Your feelings matter. The deacon knew it was crucial that he approach this with compassion and understanding. Faith was a deeply personal journey, and each individual had their own struggles and doubts. Lord knew he’d faced his own in the past and that even if his current standings were solid, they were shaky.

His mind had been consumed by the weight of what he had learned. He couldn't help but feel a profound connection to you when he first placed the communion wafer on your tongue, the tongue that had inadvertently confessed impure thoughts to him. Though your honesty and vulnerability struck a chord within him.

Unbeknownst to you, the deacon struggled with similar doubts and desires. When he heard your confession, his heart weighed heavily with empathy and understanding. Though he couldn’t help the mix of relief in his emotions as well. It was comforting to know he wasn’t alone in grappling with faith, the temptation, and the forbidden attraction that he felt towards you.

Denying his own attraction to you was impossible.

Despite his commitment to his faith and role within the church, he too has found himself captivated by your presence and constantly battled his own desires. Since he’d laid eyes on you that faithful Sunday morning, he’d felt an invisible force bind himself to you. Much like he had bound himself to the service of God Almighty, he found himself wanting to serve you.

Miguel O’Hara couldn’t get that mental image out of his mind. Serving you… The more he tried to control his urges, the harder they became to ignore. He’d been doing what he was told all these many years in the church, abstaining from giving in too much. But no matter how much he tried to uphold the image of chaste, he is merely flesh.

The views of his brothers in Christ were archaic. They forget that the sacrifice of the only Son was done in love, despite our sins. He truly believed that it is natural, God-given even, to experience attraction to fellow flesh. It’s natural to seek a partner in life. He’s human. He’s prone to straying from the path. He is only human. He just hopes that God understands when he asks for forgiveness and repentance.

He struggles with the guilt of falling into temptation when he feels he’ll come undone if he doesn’t allow himself release. He isn’t able to hold back now as much as times prior. Not when you had captivated his spirit.

He also felt guilty for viewing you in the explicit ways that he thought of you. Focusing on the way clothes hugged your body and needing to know what hid in the heaven of your thighs. While Matthew says not to judge others, he also mentions in the Good Book that, “whoever looks […] to lust at someone, has already committed adultery with them in his heart.” If he were to really follow the written word, Miguel would have to pluck out his eyes for his transgressions against you in his mind.

His flesh weakens when he remembers how soft your lips were under the pad of his thumb. The way your eyes looked into his as he cupped your chin.

Cold showers are his usual go-to when it comes to trying to avoid the temptation of touch. His large shoulders hunched slightly when the frigid water fell onto his skin. It’s in vain though each time because his body still radiates heat of passion from thoughts of you. When he looks down at himself, he curses his body’s reaction to thoughts of your mouth. His painfully hard cock begs for your touch. It’s always too much to bear. The tip of him screaming red and leaking despite the cold temperatures.

When he gives in, it’s always too fast. Finally gripping himself the way he’d liked, imagining showing that way to you, he pumped himself with his hand. His grunts steamed the shower even further as he envisioned you with him. Oh, how he longed to feel you and learn you like scripture. His wanton movements force him to brace himself on the shower wall as an image that always brings over the edge flashes his in mind: your legs spread in offering of your own communion. It’s enough to make him see stars as your name echoes in his shower like hallelujahs.

He wishes it wasn’t shame that he felt after. He wishes his comedown was met with comfort from you. He allows the evidence of his shame to wash from himself down the drain, but the feeling is still there. You were more than someone to be lusted over.

While the sexual attraction was strong, he also yearned to know more about you. You’d only revealed little bits of yourself in the confession booth but he was intrigued, nonetheless. He wanted to know more about your conflict with faith, wondered what your childhood was like and what foods you enjoyed, interested in learning your outlook on life. Miguel wanted to learn your personal philosophies as if it were doctrine.

Not seeing you at the previous Sunday service hurt. He understood, given your beliefs, that he couldn’t expect you at church. It wasn’t an attendance issue, which he would not enforce on anyone, but the empty aisle seat in the middle pew made him feel equally as vacant. It didn’t matter to him if you were conflicted or steadfast on Christian values. Matthew 7 held his strongest position on the matter of judgment: it wasn’t his place. He was simply a figurehead of spiritual guidance.

In fact, he had geared his sermon slightly towards you for that Sunday. He couldn’t help the itch to address the issue in a way he was comfortable, through scripture. He didn’t want to convert your faith to Jesus Christ. He wanted to help you restore faith in yourself.

You conjured in him quotes from Corinthians: a book in the Bible that speaks of faith, hope, and love. He carefully highlighted 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 the night of your confession as he crafted his sermon. “[…], our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” Yes… the Bible is literally referencing heaven as the eternal glory, but it’s all metaphorical. “Unseen” was the key word in this theological message. He knew the congregation visualized pearly gates and mansions of clouds as a reward for the pain they experienced on this terrain. What he had hoped you would have gotten to hear was that there were so many possibilities when one had faith in themselves. He wanted to show you the unlocked potential housed within yourself.

He had a lot to say as he stood before you now. There’s so much you need to know, need to hear.

First, you needed to know that you were wrong.

He said your name to get your attention.

But, there wasn’t a sound after that for a moment, until your mother and a few other members of the church came through the double doors.

________________________________________

You snapped out of the trance Miguel had you locked in with the song of your name on his lips when your mom burst into the kitchen with some of her friends.

You reach to get the cups out of a cabinet and simply ignore the deacon for a moment despite the flush in your cheeks. Easily explainable by the heat of the kitchen.

“Everything is ready! Mom, I’ve got two plates ready to go for later. Come on and eat, everyone!” Your mother’s friends all compliment her on her well behaved child and you catch her eyes. There’s no strictness in her expression. She simply beams at you, her child.

Members of the church start calling out, ‘Let’s eat!’, ‘Smells good!’, and mentioning how they knew they were in for a good meal as it was your mom that did the cooking.

As people pour into the serving area and line up, you hear Reverend Miguel’s voice above the hustle of hungry people.

“Before we enjoy this delicious looking food, let us first thank the cooks and then I suppose we should bless the meal, yes?” He was smiling as he said this, as if prayer before a meal was only a formality. It seemed as though the appreciation for you two was what he was after as you watched the church thank your mother and you for your cooking. You shrugged off the bits of praise you received as it really was your mom who did the majority of the work.

An elder member is selected to lead the church in prayer and everyone bows their head. You’re still riding a buzz from the work, not to mention seeing Miguel again after almost a week. You can’t seem to bring your eyes down.

You scanned the room of bowed heads and smiling faces and found the deacon’s gaze on you again. This time, you smiled at him and nodded in appreciation. The prayer concludes and your mother’s smile at the praise makes your heart feel warm. Due to the spotlight on her cooking she was forced to be first to get her plate of food, something she usually didn’t do until after everyone had gotten their own plate. Sometimes after they’d gotten seconds. She had found her a community of support and love.

As the church members started scooping portions onto plates, you saw Reverend Miguel approach you again. He stands by your side and you watch as the congregation gets their food and he leans to his side a little toward you. He speaks in a hushed tone as he asks,

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” You swallow dryly, but his next word nearly knocks you off your feet.

“Alone?”

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #priest!miguel #miguel x you #priest au #across the spiderverse #heathenry

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detectivestucks · 3 months

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The Anbu Captain X

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summary: Kakashi has the week off before a very long mission. He makes the most of his time with you and it is the most magical week of your life.

Warnings: NSFW, nipple play, anal play, light choking, oral, unprotected penetration.

Word Count: 4.6k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Part 9 New here? Check out Part 1

Side Note: didn't edit this much but I fell in love with this chapter and didn't want to wait to post

“You okay Captain?” Tenzo asks once Team Ro had settled into their camp for the night.

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m okay.”

“You’ve been lost in thought a bunch on this mission. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just thinking about how I want to spend our week off.”

“Oooh, so it’s true!”

“What’s true?!” Yugao asks

“Captain has a girlfriend!”

“He what?!”

Kakashi just smiles at the ground as his team members begin to pelt him with questions about you. Ignoring their prying asks, he closes his eyes and goes back to planning. When he got back, he wasn’t going to squander a second with you. He had an entire week off before they left for two months. If you weren’t at work, you were on his time and it would be a punishable crime to waste his time.

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

The team arrived back in the village late Sunday evening. In typical Kakashi fashion, he snuck through your window and slipped into your bed. He was a bit aggravated to find a sleeping Pakkun snuggled up against your stomach but he forgave the hound, knowing that sharing a bed with you will probably be of great comfort over the next two months.

You somewhat stir as you feel him grab hold of you from behind while he settles into being your big spoon.

“Welcome back baby.” you sleepily say as your hand rests on top of his arm.

“It’s good to be back.” he says nuzzling against your ponytail.

~~~~~~~Monday~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ramen? At Ichiraku? Like in public?” you question Kakashi, surprised at his suggestion.

“We’ve been in public before”

“Yeah but that was before the rumor mill was set ablaze.”

“Set ablaze, huh?”

“It seems dating you is a big deal. I’ve had eyes follow me all week.”

“You sure it’s not cause you’re so beautiful?”

Kakashi brushes your lip with his thumb while you give him a knowing look.

“Well I’m all for Ichiraku. They’re delicious.”

“Good cause that’s what I’m in the mood for.”Kakashi says as he grabs your hand and escorts you out the door and down the stairs.

You walk through the village, both of you in civilian clothes and sure enough, there wasn’t a single person minding their own business as the two of you made your way to the favorite local ramen shop.

“Kakashi! It’s good to see you!”

Kakashi was greeting the shop owner when he noticed you. “And a lady friend? Kakashi, I wasn’t aware you were seeing anyone.”

“This is Y/N”

You timidly wave in response. You were certain you'd be a celebrity by the end of the week if the two of you were to be out in public like this every evening. Kakashi goes ahead and places your order.

“Could we please have two orders of Miso Ramen, one with Chashu Pork?”

“You got it! Anything for the lovely couple.”

“So, would this qualify as a date or just grabbing dinner?” You ask while you watch your soup get doled out into a bowl.

“Just getting dinner. Don’t worry, I have our whole week planned out.”

“You do?”

“It’s not often I get a week off.”

Your face softens as you look at him. This was not the same man you met nearly four months ago. It couldn’t be.

“So what do you have planned?”

He gives you a playful smile, “You’ll see.”

~~~~~~~Tuesday~~~~~~~~~~~

You pad up one of the main streets of town, again under the watchful eye of every single villager in proximity. You let him lead the way until he came to an abrupt halt. You stood on the earth where you almost smashed your face into the ground tripping over Kakashi.

“Why are we outside of the dumpling shop where we met?”

“I have some friends I’d like you to meet.”

“You have friends?”

You didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, but between never being home and never mentioning any friends, you were kinda shocked to think that there were others in the village Kakashi had connections with. Kakashi gave a nervous smile and began scratching the back of his head.

“Well, they’re my old classmates from the academy.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“So I’m meeting your friends now. Does this mean we’re official?”

Kakashi grabs you by the back of your head and whispers in your ear, “You’re my official pet. Or have you forgotten about your collar?”

He gave the shell of your ear a small nibble before releasing you.

You feel your throat go dry at the same time that arousal threatens to drip into your underwear.

Kakashi takes your wrist and drags you into the dumpling shop where his classmates are waiting.

“Hello everyone, meet Y/N.” Kakashi announces to the small group.

“Hello” Kurenai greets.

“Hi” , you say with a small wave.

“Long time, no see. Looks like a lot has happened since I saw you trip into Kakashi here.”

“Oh, yeah” you blush, nervously tucking hair behind your ear in front of the witnesses to your clumsy blunder.

“Is that where I know you from? I thought we may have met in glorious battle!” Gai asks

“No, just from that time I tripped on a rock.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks

“Yeah, she had some books the size of a small child in her arms.” Asuma chimes in

“Well it’s nice to officially meet you. I’m Kurenai.”

“Asuma”

“And I am Kakashi’s greatest rival, MIGHT GAI!”

Kakashi shakes his head before hiding his face behind his hand in embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N”

You and Kakashi take a seat among his friends and begin to dine. Kakashi didn’t say much. He mostly just watched you laugh and smile while getting to know his friends. The way you effortlessly make others fall in love with you. You amazed him every day. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to have you. You were his perfect match.

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

“Well that was fun!” you say as you walk back to your home together. Doggy box in hand with some left overs for Little Guy.

“I was worried Gai would be too much for you, but you handled him like a pro.”

“I like him! He makes me laugh.”

“Yeah, he makes me laugh too.”

“You know I’m going to need to bear witness to these rival challenges one day.”

“They’re really not impressive. I usually just challenge him to Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

You laugh so hard that you snort. “He does not fall for that!”

Kakashi kicks a pebble with his sandal as he chuckles. “Most of the time he does.”

You ascend the stairs and see Little Guy waiting for you.

“Hey Buddy! Look what I brought for you!”

He taps his paws in excitement. You pull out the dumplings and Pakkun gives an approving bark. You give him a few head scratches and offer for him to come inside but he seems content with staying outdoors tonight. You close the door with you and Kakashi on the inside leaving Pakkun free to return home. The ninja hound was more than aware of the kind of activities you two participate in at night and he was not about to overhear any of it.

~~~~~~~Wednesday~~~~~~~~~~

You come home from the office to find your room illuminated with candles and your collar waiting for you on the bed.

“What’s this?”

“It’s Wednesday, my dear.”

You give him a questioning look before comprehension sets in. “Oh, ‘hump day’”

You laugh as you go change out of your work clothes and opt for your uniform of crop top and panties. Tonight you go with a matching set. You dress in a dark purple cotton top and dark purple satin panties lined with lace around the waistband. You tied your hair up in a purple satin scrunchie to finish it off before walking up to him to accept your black leather collar. Your fingers play with the metal tag adorned with your name marking you as his property as he secures it around your neck.

He grabbed your face in both of his hands pulling you into him, resting his forehead against yours. He seemed on the verge of saying something but instead reached in his pocket to pull out the familiar headband.

You hold up your ponytail so he may tie the fabric around the back of your head before he carries you over to the bed. He lays you down gently. You feel his hands slide out from underneath you before they trace along your entire figure. He touched you like a valuable work of art.

His lips delicately brush your skin as they leave a trail of kisses down your arm and then up your leg. Kakashi was torn between touching you like a fragile rose and ruining you like the ravenous wolf he is.

He kneeled over you and cupped your face in his hands. You run your hands from his defined shoulders up to his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. You offer your tongue and he greedily takes it.

His arms begin to wind around you possessively. You make small little moans in response and it begins to drive him over the edge. You hear grunts coming from him as his kiss becomes rough. His fingers start to grip you tight while his teeth come out to play. He lowers himself down to your chest and bites down. You arch your back upwards, pushing your breast into his face.

“Oh fuck Captain!”

Kakashi’s grip is bruising. His teeth latch on to your nipple as he suckles in vain. One day he will successfully milk them, until then he will toughen the skin. You squirm under him feeling your panties fill with arousal as your nipples ache. When he releases he places a small elastic around each stiff peak forcing them to stay pointed and erect. You whine when the band closes around your bud, rubbing your legs together as the pressure sets in.

“Good girl” he coos as you lift your chin towards him. “Now open”

You separate your lips only to be met with cool aluminum on your tongue. Kakashi had pulled out his gift from your first date. You were excited, the plug in your back door made his length in your cunt feel extra tight. It was exhilarating and hit all your sweet spots in the best way.

Blindly, you salivate all over the metal bulb before your captain pulls your hips towards him to insert it.

He sticks a finger in your mouth for you to lick before he glides it into your puckered rear. He rims you and then begins pushing in the tip of the plug. You breathe deep and allow your muscles to relax. This time, it glides in with ease and is pushed in up to the pink gem that now shines between your cheeks.

You let out a gratified moan as you feel the weight inside you. You stretch your back, arching it and wiggling side to side when Kakashi also attaches the chain leash to the metal loop in your collar. He pulls up his mask and rids your eyes of the headband.

You turn back to look at him as he tears away the fabric. He pushes you down on your back and keeps the hem of your crop top lifted above your tits so he can see your nipples swell, trapped in the black elastics.

Keeping your tether tight, he lowers himself down to your heat to snack on the arousal that is dripping from inserting your little gem. He’s careful to hide his face as he buries it into your dripping pussy but he removed your blindfold because he yearns to see the fire in your eyes when his tongue dances between your folds.

His arms gripping your thighs, leash still in hand, Kakashi locks eyes with you as he dives in. You don’t dare break eye contact. Seeing his brown and red eyes stare up at you from between your legs was the sexiest sight you could have ever dreamed. Selfishly clutching your chain while watching his prey unravel before him. Your core tightened more than it ever had.

“Kashiiii-AH!”

It was the most pleasurable torture of your life. Your toes were curling under the spell of his tongue. Your chest heaves under labored breath.

“Please! Please fuck me Captain!” You scream, begging to feel yourself stretch around him, unable to handle how empty your cunt feels.

“Close your eyes.”

You excitedly shut them.

“Lick”

You hear his voice in front of your face and you reach out your tongue to lick and suck your cum off his face like a lovesick puppy.

When you’re done he places his mask back over his face and instructs you to return your gaze to him. You lock your eyes onto his. He kneels between your legs and teases you by tapping your slit with his tip.

A whinny look of desperation covers your face. “Please Captain” you pout. You see him give in as he plunges up and in, dick plummeting past the bulb in your rear grazing two sweet spots at once. He sees your face as you expel a broken gasp. Smiling behind the cloth.

“Does my little pet enjoy this.”

“Mhm” you choke, pathetic and needy.

He slips in and out as you collapse back on the bed, nipples poking out from under your crop top. “Oh gods Captain, you’re so good to me.” you praise as he works his way along your walls which flutter around him.

He positions himself above you, thrusting for nearly twenty minutes, watching you mewl and moan under him. Hands pawing at his chest, fingers gripping his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. You were in a state of bliss and your mind swam from it. He felt himself pulled into a trance. He studied every part of you. The texture of your glowing skin, the depth of your irises, the softness of your hair, the feeling of your plush thighs, the darkness surrounding your nipples made purple in their bands, the vein along the side of your neck, the pink of your lips, and how your eyelashes curl.

He suddenly felt you close around him and realized you were cumming. He quickened his pace and looked down to see the ring of cream enveloping the base of his cock. He pulled out of you with a squelch and flipped you over onto all fours.

You tried to lay your head down on the bed but he tugged on your chain and pulled you back up into an arch. Feeling malicious he tugged on your gem and wrapped the chain around it so the bulb pressed up against your sphincter unless you kept your back bowed.

Beggared whines continue as he pushes his tip past your entrance and into your slit. He held you at your shoulders when he began ramming into you. You pressed the center of your spine towards the bed making sure his angle was as deep as he desired. He pulled on your leash, near your collar, some more. A choked moan falls past your lips. His fiery passion burns hot as your sounds fill his ears.

His hips slam into yours and all he can think as he looks down at your shining gem and the ripples of your fat ass is mine, mine, mine, mine.

Feeling ravenous for you, he leans down and slips his fingers inside your collar and pulls you towards him. Your weight supported by the leather straining against your neck, you feel excitement coarse through your body as the blood flow to your brain is restricted.

While one hand is tucked around the collar, the other reaches around to feel your nipples made sensitive from the lack of blood flow for the past half hour. You flinch as he brushes his fingertips against them.

“Are you sensitive, good girl?”

“Yes Captain-Oh- oh!”

He continues to rail into you so you can barely answer him. Between the sensation in your nipples, his balls slapping your clit, and the friction between your legs, you spiral into one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. You wheeze in his arms, falling limp and lifeless from the convulsions running through you.

He feels powerful as he holds your figure. The urge to bite into your shoulder overcomes him. He can feel your blood pumping through your body, your heart thumps against his arm as it drapes around your chest. He wants to taste that blood. His helpless prey, his beautiful pet, his reason for living. You are his everything.

You cry out as his teeth sink in but he laps against the bite like he always does and it feels better. Stroking in and out slowly from behind as he holds you against his chest. He reaches around and rolls the black elastic off your buds with a hiss from your teeth. He licks his fingers before massaging your nipples between them. The tender care makes your rear spasm around the stem of your gem.

“Thank you Captain, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, good girl. You did well.”

You throw your head back on his shoulder still panting in his arms. He unclasps the leash from your metal hook and lets it fall to the bed. Stroking slowly still. You lift one arm and let it run through his silver mane. The other wraps over the hand around your waist. Your sweet cries echo in the room.

Pulling up his mask now stained with your blood, he pulls out and lays you on your back. He re-enters you in a mating press, eyes boring into yours as he strokes in and out. Your eyes study his brown iris, then his red. Switching back and forth, not sure which is more beautiful.

Your mouth falls open into an O as Kakashi nears his orgasm. Both of your hands thread their fingers into his hair. You squeal as he cums. Kakashi grunting with each pound into you. He wasn’t going to see you for two months. This week was for depositing as much of himself into you as possible so you wouldn’t miss him as much.

He collapses on the bed next to you.

Both worn out from your orgasms, you fall asleep side by side, plug still in your behind, collar around your neck, naked body on naked body.

~~~~~~~Thursday~~~~~~~~~~

The sky is painted on a pink and purple canvas as you finally feel a tug on your fishing rod.

“Captain, I got one!”

“Good job, my love” he says with a proud smile.

He gives you a peck on the cheek as you bring your catches and fishing equipment back to Kakashi’s home. It is in his kitchen that he teaches you how to cook it in his favorite fashion. He gives you his headband to wear around your hairline in case he can’t keep his lips to himself. He also gives you an apron and calls you his sous chef because you belong ‘under' him.

Your tantalizing head chef finds every opportunity to stand behind you and guide your hands through the process. Teaching you while nuzzling into your neck and rubbing his boner along your backside.

You’re holding a knife trying to dice vegetables when Kakashi grabs your wrists. He presses light kisses against your neck. You close your eyes and hum.

“Mmmm, thank you Captain.”

“It’s ‘thank you Chef’ tonight, my love.”

“Mmm, Thank you, Chef.” you say while wiggling your rear into his pelvis

“What a good girl you are.” he says into your neck while starting to kiss it more aggressively. You drop your knife and turn around in his arms to kiss him. He lifts you up onto the counter before lowering his headband over your eyes. Your dinner nearly burns while you’re distracted by your quick reward for behaving so well.

~~~~~~~~Friday~~~~~~~~~~~

Large palms covering the back of your hands, your fingers dig into cool slimy clay as Kakashi guides your blind limbs into creating an unknown column. It feels reminiscent of when you stroke his length but he told you he wanted you to have a vase for when he buys you flowers.

“Are you sure we’re doing this right?”

“Trust your Captain.”

“It just seems like we forgot to hollow out the inside of the vase.”

“Don’t worry. It looks exactly how it’s supposed to.” he says with a quick kiss on your jaw.

You smile under his headband tied around your eyes. You’re pretty sure he’s up to something but without your sight you can’t confirm.

Kakashi lifts his hands off of your’s.

“Let me add just a few final touches.”

“Can I look?”

“Not yet, Good Girl”

You let out a little whine.

“Do I need to bend you over my knee?”

An excited shiver runs down your spine and stiffens your nipples.

Kakashi laughs at your reaction. “Seems someone enjoys being put in her place.”

“Depends on who’s putting me there.”

“Good Girl.” he says, reaching over with his messy hand. He strokes your cheek before giving a boop to your nose. Your cheeks flush.

“Alright, it’s done.”

You lift his headband off your eyes to see a replica of Kakashi’s manhood complete with veins and mushroom tip. You give him a look of amusement.

“I can’t put flowers with this!”

“But, you can put it in your flower when you miss me.”

Your jaw drops. “I’m supposed to put that where?!”

“When it dries, I can give you a tutorial.”

Your eyes widen as Kakashi comes over to your chair to straddle you. He sank the headband back across your eyes as he lowers his mask to begin kissing you, ready to remind you how the real one feels when it’s inside.

~~~~~~~Saturday~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kashi, where are we?” you ask, hearing a loud sound ahead of you.

“Where do you think?”

“Well it sounds like we’re getting close to a waterfall of some kind.”

The two of you race through the forest jumping tree to tree. It had been a long time since you had traveled like this. Mostly you practiced your taijutsu these days in case anyone were to break into your office. You hadn’t been on a mission in ages.

Only the moonlight illuminated your path. Kakashi is much faster than you so he doubles back every now and then to steal a kiss. Sometimes he stops to poke fun at you for calling yourself a ninja.

“If everyone was good enough to be in the Anbu then it wouldn’t be so impressive, now would it?” you say defensively

“Yeah but I know Genin faster than you.”

“Why you little-”

Kakashi pinned you against the tree with his finger against your lips

“I don’t recommend you finish that sentence, little one. Your Captain might not like it.”

Your already heavy breathing strains from arousal, eyes shining up at him. He gives your cheek a clothed kiss as you near a clearing. You undoubtedly are headed towards the mouth of a waterfall when you find two giant stone statues etched into the cliff.

“Valley of the End?”

“Yes, where Hashirama battled Madara.”

“Wow, the statues are huge!”

“Race you to the top!”

“Hey! No fair!”

Exhausted, you meet him at the top of Hashirama’s head where he is casually sitting with one leg out. You plop yourself down next to him and nestle into his side.

“The river looks so beautiful from up here.”

“Almost as beautiful as you.”

Your blush isn’t visible in the light of night but Kakashi knows it’s there. Very seriously, Kakashi grabs your hand. “This has been the best week of my life. Thank you.”

“Captain, it is me who should be thanking you. No one has ever done anything like this for me.”

Kakashi lifts your hand to kiss the back of it.

“Kakashi…”

You lean into him. Under the darkness of night he lowers his mask. His lips pushing into yours, he cradles your head as he lowers you to the stone surface. Shifting his bodyweight over you, he lifts your shirt and lowers your pants, allowing your passions to take over. You pant and paw at him under the stars, letting him make his final deposit before his long mission tomorrow.

~~~~~~~Sunday~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up together in your bed. The dreaded Sunday has come. You’re not ready to say goodbye. You’re not ready to fear for his safety. You’re not ready to miss him for 8 weeks.

You prop yourself up on your elbow and look down at his restful sleeping face. Your heart constricts at the thought of him leaving. You were blessed with the most incredible boyfriend who happened to have the worst job in the village. You wanted to ask him to leave the Anbu. Retire as a decorated Shinobi. But you knew he loved his village and you knew he felt he had a duty to fulfill. Tears start to leak from your eyes.

Not wanting Kakashi to catch you crying, you hurriedly get up and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You check the front door to see if Little Guy was outside and sure enough he was.

“Hey Little Guy.” you greet somewhat somberly.

He gives a little whine almost as if to say ‘what’s wrong?’

“He leaves today, Little Guy. I know. I know I should be grateful to have had him all to myself for an entire week but I got so used to him being around and now…” Your lip begins to quiver, “Now it feels like a hole has been punched in my chest.”

You wipe the tears with your arm as Pakkun gives you a head bunt. You give him ear scratches then stand up facing the kitchen.

“I know, I know, enough tears. Time for breakfast.”

Pakkun could see your heartache and as you looked down at him you swore you thought the friendly neighborhood dog was feeling pity for you.

You pull out the frying pan and get busy.

A groggy Captain emerges from the bedroom and wraps his arms lovingly around your waist and gives you a light kiss over last night’s hickies. You melt into him.

“Thank you Captain.”

“You’re welcome, Good Girl. How can I help?”

“You can bring these over to the table” you say, handing him two plates.

You grab the tea and join him.

“So you leave today.”

“Yes, before noon.”

He looks up at you, searching for a reaction. You drop your eyes not wanting him to see how sad you were.

“It will be 8 weeks.”

“I know…” you reply in almost a whisper.

“I will always return home to you.” he reassures you, grabbing your hand.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. You give him a small smile.

“Cause you’re the best there is.”

He gives a low chuckle. “Cause I’m the best there is.”

You finish eating and do the dishes with a quick reprieve for intimacy. After redressing your naked bodies it is time for Kakashi to officially depart. You stand in your doorway holding each other. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and breathe deep.

Kakashi inhales long and strong with his nose buried in your hair. He releases his hug and is about to step across the threshold when you tighten your grip and pull him back towards you.

You have a look of desperation on your face as you begin to say,

“Kakashi, I-”

“I love you too.”

The wind is knocked out of you as a tear of joy leaks out the corner of your eye.

“I’ll see you in 8 weeks, my love.”

“See you in 8 weeks, Captain.”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi senpai #kakashi is daddy #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi anbu #kakashi sensei #hatake kakashi #romantic kakashi #pakkun #anbu kakashi

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justalittleficsideblog · 2 months

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latte art

Choso x Reader coffeeshopAU!

Just a lil meet cute where Choso sees you enter a cafe and decides to use some of his new skills to impress you...

work count: 1.2k

“I see you layered your guyliner on extra thick today, Choso.”

Rolling said eyes, Choso dug through the counter and grabbed a bag of decaf beans to hand over to his pink-haired coworker.

He caught his reflection in the metallic of the espresso machine. It wasn’t that his eyeliner was layered extra thick, it was more a matter that he had never removed it from the night before.

And that he might’ve fell asleep while studying.

On his desk.

In the library.

“I never took it off.”

Yuji blinked at him, taking the coffee and getting to work on another customer’s order. Choso had made it a habit to watch over the semi-new hire when he was assigned to the latte art and more complex orders. He had a tendency to overfill the cups.

A chime sounded, indicating someone had stepped into the café.

Brows furrowed, he glanced at the clock. It was fairly late in the evening, not so close to closing as he’d hoped which meant they’d hit the “students getting shit done before midnight” crowd of the Sunday evening.

Rolling his neck, Choso adjusted his apron and walked over to the front counter.

His eyes raked over you for a split second before speaking. “What can I get for you?”

You beamed brightly up at him, and he quickly glanced down at the screen in front of him as he waited for your order. You were a student, that was apparent by your bookbag and sort of worn out exterior. He hadn’t seen you around here last semester, and suddenly he was glad that the rotation of classes made you wander into the shop.

“Oh! And could I also get it with a cup of soup?” He nodded along, brushing a stray hair out of his face as he finished typing up the order.

“For here or to go?” His eyes flicked up to yours, examining your features.

“Here please!” you exclaimed enthusiastically. “I need a change of scenery that isn’t in the library,” you gestured to your backpack.

He nodded, gesturing to the card reader in front of you as you waited to pay.

Having paid, you found a quaint spot by the window to set your bag down and pull out your ecosystem of electronics, he noticed.

How much could you fit in that bag?

“Hey, Choso. How do I make this again? Don’t I pour the creamer—”

The formerly mentioned male took the label out Yuji’s hands, realizing it was yours.

“I got it,” he grumbled. “Watch the register.”

Yuji sticks his tongue out at him but walked obediently over towards the front, working on the next person’s, much simpler, coffee.

He couldn’t help but glance over at where you were sitting, entirely engrossed in whatever you were doing. He watched as you shuffled through papers, brows furrowed in concentration.

A sudden burning shocked him out of his staring. With a hiss, he reflexively took his hand back that had been in the way of the espresso machine, causing the coffee to pour onto him, rather than into the cup.

He sighed. He’d have to do it again.

Reaching into the cupboard with his now throbbing hand, he grabbed a new cup and slapped your label on it. Now waiting for the drip (from a safe distance), he leaned back against the counter, debating what sort of art he should do in the coffee…

You seemed like the type to appreciate it.

Now determined, he grabbed the creamer, glancing in your direction as he did so. His eyebrows raised as he met your gaze, watching as you shyly glanced back down to your laptop.

Ok, now he had to make this perfect. Not the usual run of the mill that the regulars looked forward to from the other employees.

No fuck ups, Choso.

Squaring his shoulders, he rolled up his sleeves, adjusted his frame, and began to pour.

Carefully holding it in his hands, he swung open the miniature gate that separated the customer and employees sections of the front.

“Hey, what are you—” Yujis eyes snapped to the direction Choso was headed towards. “Ah, oh uh, never mind then.”

Moving into your field of view, Choso gracefully plated the mug in front of you, careful of your papers strewn about the small benchtop.

You gratefully looked up towards him and smiled.

Gahh…

He clenched his jaw subconsciously. He really liked the way the sides of your mouth quirked up when it was directed at him.

“Oh my gosh!” you gasped, cooing over the arguably very adorable cat’s face that was plastered in the middle of your cup. “I literally cannot drink this.”

He nodded silently in approval, his chest lightening a bit that you reacted positively towards it.

Glancing down at his name tag you blurted, “Choso this is the cutest thing that’s ever been added to my coffee order.”

Deciding against the rapid beating that was thundering inside his chest, he replied in kind. “If you’re around again, I’ll give you another one. The older folks don’t care much for that.”

Bullshit, he never did this sort of art on the coffee except for a select group of his employees and friends. He doesn’t know why he even did it for you in the first place, something just drove him to it.

“I hadn’t realized this café did it, I would’ve been in here last semester if I’d known about it” you laughed lightly, hand swishing in the air as you rolled your eyes.

“Why don’t you advertise it? I’m sure people from all over the campus would flock to get it done by you.”

He scrunched his nose. No, he hated making something personal to him so commercialized, the idea of having to do it over and over killed his enjoyment of it.

Shifting his weight, he admitted, “I don’t care much for it to be… marketed. I like the challenge to make new ones out of enjoyment.”

Had he come off as harsh? He admitted he hadn’t talked to a customer like this in well… ever. He didn’t want to come off as a creep, oh no, did he seem like a creep?

“Alright,” your voice cut through his thoughts. “I don’t think you’d know how to do a rose, would you?”

Your smile was enticing, and he licked his bottom lip absentmindedly. Folding his arms, he replied. “You’ll just have to come back and see.”

Eyes narrowing, you stuck your chin out in challenge. “Alright, you’re on then.”

Smirking, he walked back to the counter and shut the swinging door behind him. Yuji quirked an eyebrow at him, “What did you give her?”

“A cat.”

“Holy shit!” He stopped drying a mug, giving Choso his full attention. “Didn’t you just learn that one?”

He shoved his coworker playfully, nodding as he did so. “I’m taking my break.”

Staring blankly after him, yuji’s face broke out into a smile, looking from him to your table.

Tossing the apron onto the stool beside him in the back room, Choso eagerly pulled out his phone and typed into the search bar.

Megumi, who was now clocking in to take over for his pink-haired classmate, secretly peeked over his shoulder.

How to do flower latte art

#choso x reader #jjk x reader #coffeshopau!#lmk if you weant a continuation of this #choso with buns and guyliner making coffee brrr

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 18 days

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04/09/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rachel House; Jes Tom; Kat Buchanan; GypsyTaylor; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Unicorn Day; Uproar; Watch Party Reminders; Fan Spotlights: OurDragMeansSlay; Cast Cards; TealOrange & Garlic Soup Prompt Week! Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Rachel House ==

Rachel House's new directorial movie topped the charts in Taranaki!

== Jes Tom ==

Gonna be in New York in May? Well Jes Tom and lot's over other asian comics will be performing at the 2024 Asian Comedy Fest! For tickets visit: asiancomedyfest.com. 2024 Asian Comedy Fest IG

== Kay Buchanan ==

Kay Buchanan, one of the prop designers for OFMD s2 dumped a bunch of prop pics today for Izzy's leg! Src: Kay Buchanan IG

== Unicorn Day! ==

Yesterday was National Unicorn! Some of our lovely crew put out some dedications For Our New Unicorn! Img Src: @blueberreads

== More Uproar News! ==

Uproar is coming to digital on April 30 so those of you who couldnt get in to a theatre to see it can purchase and download it at home!

For those still interested in theatres-- if you happen to be nearby, @elby3000 was kind enough to note that theUproar opening date at Salem Cinema (Oregon) of April 12 at Blue Fox Entertainment may be in error. The theatre's website lists opening as April 19 (subject to change). Just in case you happy to be looking for one there!

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Today we're on Season 1 Ep 5 and 6. Join OFMD Crew, and @iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== Taskmaster NZ ==

*Please Note*: @ineffablecollision was kind enough to let us know of some desyncing issues! Thanks friend!

"During the TMNZ watch party, depending on where you watch, you *will* get desynced! I don't know if TVNZ kept the ad break bumpers, but Ch4 has one missing (TMNZ has four ad breaks compared to TMUK's three, so they cut to fit), and YT has them cut altogether!"

Series 1 continues Weds at 11am PT / 2 pm ET / 7 pm BST on any of the @saveofmdcrewmates socials.

#Quartermaster

#OurFlagMeansDeath

Taskmaster

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

Our Big Gay Energy Podcast interviewed Gypsy Taylor and we learned some pretty amazing things. Some highlights:

Stede's cravat was fabric left over from his old couch

Ed kept the teal robe (the one he wears the morning after calypso) as a memory of Stede and then Taika kept the robe after the show.

Please check out the whole episode below!

Where to Watch Where to Listen

= Our Drag Means Slay =

Hey all! Are you in the Chicago area? Why not checkout Our Drag Means Slay on April 27! It's $25/ticket and doors open at 5:55pm! For Tickets

= Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week! =

A new celebration week is coming up in June for all things Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng (or any combo in between!) Prompts will be released on April 15th!

When: Sunday June 23 - Saturday June 29th! How: Create or Share - Fic, art, and other fan creations!

Please follow them on Tumblr! @garlicsoupweek You can visit: Linktr.ee Or follow them on Twitter!

= Cast Cards =

Today's cast card is Jennifer Onyeiwu, one of the lovely pirates that asked Stede out for a drink in "Man On Fire". If we ever get a s3 I hope she comes back-- thanks @melvisik!

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. This weeks turning out to be a bit of a doozy. I hope you all are practicing some self care. It's been a lot lately. I have seen a lot of you mentioning re-watching the show, which I love. It feels like we are getting past the raw part of our grief into being able to celebrate it as a group again.

Be kind to yourselves lovelies, be kind to yourself and others. There's enough hate in this world that we don't need to add undo stress to others or especially ourselves.

Love you crew.

Img Src: @BethDrawsThings IG

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

The theme today is, there are two wolves inside of me, both of these gifs represent them

Darby Gif Courtesy of @ofmd-ann

Taika Gif Courtesy of @gentlepanpirate

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #big gay energy podcasts #kay buchanon #jes tom #rachel house #uproar #long live ofmd #save ofmd #adopt our crew #teal oranges and garlic soup week #our drag means slay

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jeewrites · 2 days

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Hold Fast | Ch. 5 - Five Courses

Series Master List

Rating: M, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Frankie and Sweets finally go on their date! I do not recommend reading this when you are hungry. Ty to @bloviating-vy for beta-ing and providing all the emotional support one needs for writing fanfic lol.

Word Count: ~5.6K

Tags: no y/n, alcohol, gymbff!Benny, OC!Chloé, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, reader's nickname is Sweets, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, Frankie POV, kissing, making out, gratuitous descriptions of food, Sweets eats like a powerlifter, angst that resolves by the end of the chapter, discussion of previous relationships, implied past abusive relationship (not described), cliffhanger-ish?

<< prev next >>

After you leave on Sunday, Frankie spends the rest of the weekend scouring the internet for the latest, fanciest restaurants in the greater metropolitan area. He's determined to make up for canceling on you at the last minute and go all out for you after everything you've done to care for Gabi and him. Tucking into another bowl of your magical chicken noodle soup, Frankie sighs at his laptop after clicking through tasting menu after 7 course menu after kaiseki menu after some weird pop-up dinner theater. Yeah, no. This isn't it.

And a small part, ok large part of him, wants to impress you, but he's at a loss as to how since he doesn't know you well enough. Surely as a doctor you are used to living the good life, dining at fancy places, right? What would not just be good enough for you, but impress you? His phone buzzes with a text from Benny in the group chat about a new PR lift and that's when an idea pops into Frankie's head. After a brief exchange with Benny he shuts his laptop and readies for bed. He has a plan.

Just as you are sitting down to scarf down your lunch later that week, your phone vibrates with a text from your favorite brown-eyed pilot.

[text conversation]

😻🐟: Hey, so what kind of food do you like? 🏋🏻‍♀️: Yes 😻🐟: ???

🏋🏻‍♀️: I have to eat so much to fuel for 🏋️‍♀️, so yeah, I like food. 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🍜🍳🥩🍔🌮🥟🍣🎂🍩🍪🍮🧁🥐🫔🍧 🏋🏻‍♀️: I don't do sandwiches though 😻🐟: Roger that 🫡

😻🐟: Be ready to eat okay? Might want to wear something stretchy. Prepare yourself. 😉 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🫡 say no more. I have the perfect outfit. 😈 😻🐟: Pick you up Saturday at 4:30? I know it's early, but trust me ok? 🏋🏻‍♀️: 💃🏻💃🏻

You spend the rest of your break smiling into your lunch wondering what Frankie has planned for Saturday. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

On Saturday, at 4:25 PM you hear a soft knock at your front door. Swinging the door open you're greeted by an enormous arrangement of dahlias, a stunning ombre of purple, pink, and fuchsia hues, a grinning Frankie peeking from over the top.

"For you," he says with a winning smile as he hands you the arrangement.

You're speechless. You didn't think he'd remember you whispering to him, nearly three weeks ago, what your favorite flowers are. And how did he know these are your favorite colors? Chase never remembered your favorite flowers despite the years you were together. He probably gave you flowers less than five times in the entirety of your relationship.

"You remembered," you breathe, looking up at him. "Frankie, they're beautiful."

"I do my best to remember the important things," Frankie huffs, cheeks pinking at your compliment. You catch him flick his eyes over your form, biting his lower lip. "And you're prettier than the flowers. You look — wow."

It's your turn for your cheeks to heat before you invite him in for a moment while you find the best spot to place the arrangement (you decide on your dining table so you can look at it every morning while you drink your coffee). The dahlias are arranged like a piece of art, exploding with color against the drab colors of your apartment. You could look at them all day.

"Sooo, where are we going this early?" you venture, finally taking your eyes off of the flowers and running your eyes over Frankie, admiring the way the navy button down shirt stretches deliciously across his broad chest and the khakis he's wearing hugs his hips and thighs. Curls accentuated with product. And surprisingly no hat.

"I'll tell you when we get in the truck," Frankie grins at you.

"Okay, Mr. Mysterious," you huff with a small smile as you grab your bag.

When you get to his truck he insists on opening the door for you and offering a hand as you climb in. As he settles into the driver's seat and starts the truck, he hands you a beige piece of folded card stock, printed to look like a menu. The cover reads, "Frankie's Food Truck Tour" in elegant script across the front.

You gape at him, excitement bubbling up your entire body. "You're taking me on a food truck tour?!?"

"Yup," Frankie responds, popping the 'p.' "Someone might’ve mentioned you love food trucks and hole in the wall restaurants. So I'm taking you to all the best ones I know about."

You're practically vibrating with anticipation as you open the card and gasp at the listed courses on the food tour.

Frankie's Food Truck Tour

First Course - Taco de Carnitas 🌮 Heirloom blue corn tortilla from house made masa, slow braised pork shoulder, pickled shallots, chicharrons

Second Course - Empanada Colombiana Braised beef, potato in fried corn flour crust

Third Course - Sunday Sauce with Fresh Tagliatelle 12 hour simmered ragu with fresh made tagliatelle

Fourth Course - Soup Dumplings ground pork, blue crab

Fifth Course - Gua Bao braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, toasted crushed peanuts in steamed bun

Dessert - Italian Water Ice

You are so very glad you wore your fancy stretchy clothes because this is a veritable feast of all of your favorite things. You weren't joking when you told Frankie you liked to eat. Plus today's SBD day was max effort sets, so you are ready to inhale some food. But you are also so moved by his thoughtfulness, planning such a creative first date. Who told him about your love of food trucks and hole in the wall spots?

As Frankie eases onto the main road, he swallows before asking, "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? This is amazing Frankie! It's so thoughtful." You look at him with watery eyes. "No one's done something like this for me in a long time." You might have let out a little sniffle because he's glancing at you with concern etched across his handsome face.

"Hey," he soothes, sliding a hand into yours. "It's my pleasure."

He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture makes you melt inside at the sweetness. You intertwine your fingers in his, wanting to stay connected to him and you catch him smile when you do.

"Wait, so who told you I like food trucks?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh uh, I — I asked Chloé," Frankie's ears reddened at his admission. "I checked with Benny to see when she usually works out at Pope's and, uh, talked to her earlier this week."

You hum in response, impressed that Frankie would voluntarily approach Chloé considering most regulars at Pope's Gym wouldn't dare. She intimidated everyone too much.

"It was weird though. Benny acted like he didn't want me to talk to her until I told him it was to plan my date with you." Frankie continues, tapping the steering wheel.

"Huh," you wonder, filing that bit of information away. "Wonder why."

Frankie shrugs as he pulls the truck into a gravel parking lot. A half circle of food trucks sit just in front of a copse of trees, surrounded by picnic tables. Several other cars pull up shortly after you arrive and a queue starts to form at one of the food trucks on the far end.

"Ready for the first course?" Frankie grins at you as he opens the passenger door.

"Born ready, Frankie," you grin at him with barely contained glee.

By the third course, you and Frankie are both completely relaxed and enjoying each other's company, allowing the conversation to ebb and flow between food truck courses.

The carnitas tacos whet your appetite, a perfect balance of succulent pork shoulder topped with crispy chicharrones. Pickled shallots cut the tender, savory bites with crisp acid that dance along your tongue. Charred tomatillo salsa rounds out the bite. All perfectly wrapped in a freshly griddled blue corn tortilla. You can't help but close your eyes and let out a small moan as you experience the first bite. A cacophony of well-balanced flavors and complementary textures. When you open them again you catch Frankie with a pleased look on his face as he takes a bite out of his own taco.

At the second stop, Frankie asks why you don't do sandwiches as you chomp into a piping hot empanada. The corn flour crust crunches with satisfaction giving way to the tender braised beef and fluffy potato filling. Steam curls from the opening of the empanada, a testament to how freshly made it is.

"I mean, why would I want something slapped between two slices of bread when I can have this?" you respond as you gesture to your half eaten empanada. "It's just as portable and tastes a billion times better."

You scoop some of the red salsa onto your empanada before continuing, "Besides, I had way more than my fair share of sandwiches and cold, sad meals during med school and residency. I want my meals to be hot as much as possible."

"But what about hot sandwiches?" Frankie presses, even though he nods in agreement.

"I'll make an exception for them if they are really tasty," you acquiesce. "And bánh mì, especially if the baguette is baked fresh in house."

"Duly noted," Frankie smiles, taking mental note of your preferences.

"Oh my god, you have to try this salsa," you moan after you finish your salsa covered bite of empanada. The acid from the tomato cuts through the richness of the filling, followed by sharp bites from the minced white onion, finished by a hint of sweetness — maybe from pineapple?

"Wait, don't tell me you're a fan of sandwiches."

Frankie looks slightly embarrassed when he admits he eats most of his meals standing over the kitchen sink, especially when he has Gabi, but the food is usually at least hot. "I do love cooking meals for Gabi and introducing her to all of our family's foods," he adds. "She's a really adventurous eater."

You perk up at his information. "Yeah? That's so awesome Frankie. Maybe I can make her some of my family's favorites sometime?"

He gives you the sweetest look of adoration and gratitude. "She'd love that. I — I would too."

You continue to chat with Frankie about how Gabi is doing since you last saw her as he tidies up the picnic table, and you both head to his truck for the next course.

When Frankie pulls up at the third food truck, you giggle and remark at the kitschy decor, multi-color string lights, barrels painted the colors of the Italian flag, red umbrellas shading long wooden picnic tables and smaller red metal patio tables for two. The food truck itself is a long white truck reminiscent of an old milk delivery truck. Short velvet red curtains frame the ordering window with a mismatched gallery wall of photos and paintings hanging along the side.

As you and Frankie sit at a cute red patio table sharing a sangria, waiting for the buzzer to go off to retrieve your food, you hear a woman's voice call out, "Morales?! That you?"

"Hey— " Frankie stands to greet the person behind the voice before a blur of brown hair wraps him in a tight bear hug he returns awkwardly with one arm.

"Finally made it out to check out this place huh??" the brunette says as she pulls back and releases Frankie.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for the rec. This is Sweets," Frankie gestures towards you as you stand to meet her. "This is Becs. She's one of the flight nurses I work with."

"Ooh, date night?" Becs winks at Frankie as she pumps your hand up and down one too many times. "Didn't realize you were seeing anyone Morales. Gonna break all those hearts at the hospital when people find out." You offer her a wan smile, a bit overwhelmed by her chaotic energy.

"Wait! I know you," Becs cocks her head as she assesses you intently. You stiffen even if you don't recognize her. Before you know it she's dropping the name of your former employer, adding, "Yeah, I used to work as an OR nurse there, but jumped at the chance to become a flight nurse. Less surgeon egos, more excitement, ya know?" She gesticulates with fervor as she speaks.

"Yeah, uh, I worked there," you admit, realizing you've been holding your breath. "Been over a year since I left though."

She looks you over once more. Just when you think you're in the clear she snaps her fingers and exclaims, "I do know you! You were engaged to that new trauma surgeon, what's his name!"

Your heart is in your throat and you can't move. Can't breathe. Is this really happening right now? What are the chances you'd run into someone who'd recognize you from your old job right the fuck now?

"I'll never forget how you made a surgeon get on his knees so fast," she smirks. "It's not every day you see someone throw a $50k diamond ring across the cafeteria."

Really, what are the chances you'd run into someone who witnessed the moment your engagement exploded spectacularly in front of what felt like everyone at work? Over a year ago? You can't look at Frankie. This isn't how you want him to find out. Not that you were exactly hiding it from him, but wasn't this like a third date kind of conversation? What did you know, you're so out of the loop on dating things these days. Because you're old. Broken? No one's going to want you, your mother's voice hisses up from the abyss of your mind.

"Well, it's not every day you catch your fiancé cheating on you, at work," you grit out as you find your spine.

"Yeah, bummer about that." Becs waves you off. "It was hilarious watching him crawl around on his knees trying to find that ring though."

She slaps Frankie on the shoulder and says something about seeing him at work before tossing you a nice to meet you and jets off as abruptly as she appeared.

You brave a glance at Frankie, but not really seeing him with the adrenaline flooding your system. "I —"

"Sweets —"

Of course the food buzzer decides this is the most opportune moment to go off, shocking you back into yourself as it dances erratically on the metal table top flashing red like a siren. Frankie slides a hand over the buzzer and picks it up as he walks around the table to stand in front of you. With his other hand he gently cups the side of your face.

"Sweets, you don't have to explain. It's ok. Breathe."

You swallow and let out a stuttery breath as you clasp a hand over his. His hand is warm and comforting against your skin, steady unlike your heart pounding through your chest. The buzzer continues to flash red and vibrate, muted now in his other hand. When you look up, his warm brown eyes only convey care and concern at your thinly veiled panic. Full blown panic, really. You're practically shaking.

"Hey," his voice is soft like when he speaks to Gabi. "It's okay. I'm going to go grab our food and when I get back you can tell me as much or as little as you want. Whenever you're ready. Or we can just go back to talking about how much we hate sandwiches, okay?"

"I— you— okay," is all you can manage, followed by a small nod, eyes still wide with panic, even with his attempt at humor. Coherent sentences are back to being a struggle apparently.

"We all have baggage, Sweets. I mean, I have a whole ex-wife and toddler, remember?" He gives you one more understanding smile before telling you not to go anywhere as he heads to the food truck to collect your food.

How are you supposed to eat anything right now? Your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots. You plop down in your chair as the adrenaline recedes, replaced by a wave of dread at what to possibly say to Frankie when he returns. At some point you did plan to tell him, but what happened spans several conversations, none appropriate for a first date. You try to ground yourself in what he said before he went to retrieve the food. It's okay. He has baggage too. He's okay with you telling him what you’re ready to tell him. What the fuck are you ready to tell him?

When Frankie arrives at Pope's Gym to catch Chloé and ask for her help in dinner ideas for his date with you, he isn't prepared for Benny acting so cagey and weird.

"Hey, Benny," Frankie greets Benny at the front desk with a familiar dap of the fist.

"Fish," a rare one word response from Benny, the more loquacious of the two Miller brothers.

"She here?"

"Sweets or Chloé?" Benny asks, feigning ignorance even though Frankie literally just texted him the day before asking when Chloé usually worked out at Pope's.

"For God's sake Ben, I'm looking for Chloé." Frankie glares at Benny before rolling his eyes. "To help me plan my date with Sweets. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh. Right, yeah she's here," Benny mumbles nodding in Chloé's general direction before sulking away.

As Frankie treks over, he notes the message on her cut off shirt declaring, "I'M A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE." Chloé's covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard as she finishes a set of medicine ball slams.

"I'm pretending this is your head," she mutters at Frankie as he approaches. "For canceling on Sweets the day of without telling her why."

Frankie decides to stop a generous distance away from Chloé. He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his curls, a nervous tic, before replacing the cap on his head. "Yeah, um, that really was my bad. Uh, that's — that's actually why I'm here."

He swears the glare Chloé gives him could kill.

"And why should I help you." It's not a question, but a challenge.

"I want to really impress her and go all out for her this Saturday to make-up for canceling," he continues before pausing. "Especially since she took such good care of my daughter and me when Gabi got sick last week. Which is — which is why I canceled at the last minute."

Chloé gives him a non-committal grunt, brows still furrowed, but her eyes motion for him to continue.

"I thought about taking her to some of those fancy tasting menu places, but I realize I don't know what she really likes… If she'd be into that."

"I mean, who doesn't like a fancy meal once in a while?" Chloé scoffs and shifts her weight from side to side, as if she's trying to decide whether to divulge more and help Frankie out. "But Sweets isn't into the fancy shit the way she is into food trucks and hole in the wall spots. The woman is always on the hunt for the best tacos or dumplings or whatever in the area."

Frankie nods along intently to what Chloé shares and takes detailed mental notes. You truly are a woman after his own heart.

"You should see her on vacation trying to suss out the best local eats. You always know you're going to eat well with her." Chloé glares back at Frankie before concluding with a threat for good measure. "You hurt her and I'll kill you. She's — she's been through enough. She doesn't need another guy wrecking her life."

Frankie appreciates a direct woman. And the tip about some guy wrecking your life. He stores that one away along with the threat.

"I just want to go all out for her. She deserves the best," he manages. "Gonna try my hardest not to fuck it up."

"Good," Chloé resumes picking up the medicine ball and raising it overhead before slamming it down on the ground. How does someone make everything sound like a threat?

"That still my head?" Frankie ventures looking at the medicine ball.

"Depends," Chloé huffs back at him, but he thinks he catches her smirking at him for a moment. "On how well you take care of my friend."

As Frankie thanks Chloé and turns to leave, he catches Benny hiding behind the cable tower machine watching the entire interaction, pretending to wipe down the gym equipment. Benny never cleans a goddamn thing unless it is a weapon.

"You're gonna take the paint off the metal," Frankie whispers to Benny as he walks by.

"Huh?"

Frankie shoves Benny out from behind the cable tower, "See you later, Benny boy. Good luck with that," as he motions with his eyes towards Chloé.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Benny calls back after catching himself from falling on his face in front of Chloé.

Frankie just shakes his head and beelines it to his truck. He has a food truck tour to plan.

When Frankie returns with a giant pile of fresh tagliatelle smothered in Sunday sauce, your stomach turns even if ragu is one of your favorite things. He sets everything down gently as if he is afraid to spook you with any sudden movements or sounds.

"I — I wasn't trying to hide my ex-fiancé from you," you blurt out without thinking. Smooth start there, tiger. Real smooth. You worry your hands in your lap to hold back the rising waves of anxiety. "I just thought failed engagements are more like a third date kinda conversation."

"Didn't think ya were," Frankie responds as he settles back into his chair. He slides a large hand across the table beckoning for you to place one of your hands in his. After a beat you slide a hand into his. It's warm and grounding. You find your shoulders relaxing away from your ears a smidge, and your stomach settles.

"I meant it when I said you don't have to tell me anymore than you're ready to," he reassures before something you said clicks, and he beams at you. "You'd go on a third date with me?"

You can't help but offer a small grin back, "I'd let you take me on as many dates as you want if they're anything like this, Frankie."

"Minus the co-worker with the big mouth." Frankie is full of jokes. "Too soon?"

You suppress a giggle bubbling up from your throat. "I guess that means you're not going to take me home after this?"

"Not unless you want me to, Sweets," Frankie squeezes your hand. "I'm having the best time."

Your stomach rumbles at this exact moment in response and Frankie laughs, tummy shaking laughter, wondering out loud how you are still hungry after tacos and empanadas.

"I told you I like to eat!" You cross your arms in mock indignation as Frankie wipes away tears of laughter and hands you a fork.

As you both dig into the pile of pasta, marveling at the depth of flavor a 12 hour simmer gives the ragu, you take the opportunity to ask Frankie about his work as an EMS pilot. His entire body is buoyant with excitement when he talks about flying, brown eyes bright with passion. You can tell the two loves of his life are Gabi and flying by the way he speaks about both.

"The hours aren't terrible, 12 hour shifts, 4 days on and 3 days off, with a lot of waiting around. But at least I'm not getting shot at now when I fly," Frankie shares, adding how his parents help watch Gabi when he has custody and has to work. Your breath hitches at the thought of anyone shooting at sweet Frankie.

"Next stop?" he tries to change the subject when he catches your worried expression.

You nod and attempt to help clear the table, but Frankie insists you don't lift a finger.

The next two stops fly by as Frankie tells you about the owners of the soup dumpling take-out window, former cooks at some Taiwanese chain making its way into the U.S.

"Ooo yes, DTF! I've been to one of their locations before!" you exclaim.

His eyebrows curve upward in confusion, "Wait, I thought DTF meant... something else??"

"Ohmygosh, DTF — Din Tai Fung!" you cackle. "Their soup dumplings are to die for."

Frankie admits he hasn't ever eaten a soup dumpling before as you lift the lid and a cloud of savory steam erupts from the bamboo steamer basket. You offer him two options that won't involve near boiling broth burning his mouth off. After all, you have... plans for that mouth.

"Next time we have to try the pork and shrimp ones too," Frankie tells you as he opens the passenger door for you. Seeing his eyes light up after the first bite and slurp of soup dumpling, you know he is a convert for life.

At the last stop he slides an arm around your shoulders as you sit side by side on a park bench splitting one extra-large gua bao, too full to each have your own. It’s the size of your face instead of the standard appetizer size. Frankie insists you take the first bite of the pillowy soft steamed bun, a vehicle for the unctuous braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, and toasted crushed peanuts. The umami of spiced soy sauce carries forward balanced notes of anise and cinnamon with a not too sweet caramel finish of hoisin and brown sugar. A savory symphony of flavors in your mouth.

"That good huh," Frankie smiles as you let out a groan.

"Mmph," is all you can manage, eyes closed, savoring the bite with a happy food wiggle.

You offer the bao up to him, angled so he can get the perfect bite, the scruff on his chin tickling your fingers as he takes an exaggerated bite.

"Fuch, ish good," he mumbles, mouth full and sauce dripping out the corner of his mouth.

When you brush your thumb to wipe the sauce away, the pink triangle of his tongue peeks out to lick your finger clean. Your eyes flick up and catch a dark, mischievous look across Frankie's face that makes you want to combust on the fucking spot. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the bao before offering the last bite to him.

He sighs in contentment when the food is finished and pulls you closer to him, tucking you to his side. It's warm and safe here snuggled against him with his strong arm draped over your shoulder as you idly watch other diners nearby. Safe enough you weigh the risk of ruining the moment by sharing about your painful past.

"Can I tell you a little bit about... what happened a year ago?" you ask, voice quiet, looking up at him.

Frankie returns your gaze, "Of course."

"Ok," you drop your gaze to your hands and take a deep breath before continuing. "We, um, met in college. Both of us pre-med... and just dorks with the same goals you know?"

You tell Frankie about Chase, how he changed from a sweet college boy to someone you didn't recognize as you went through med school and residency. "I was so afraid of being alone, I ignored the red flags and how we were growing apart until he went out of state for his fellowship and I stayed here. That’s when I realized I was happier on my own than when he would visit."

You peek up at Frankie through your lashes and realize he's been looking at you and listening intently the entire time. "But it took catching him cheating for me to leave."

You shudder at the memory of the night you tried to leave and the weeks that passed before you finally could. That is a story for another day. Frankie tightens his grip around your shoulders as he releases a sharp exhale through his nose when you stop talking.

"I appreciate you sharin' all that with me, Sweets," he says, pausing as if he isn't sure what he wants to say next. His thumb on your shoulder tracing slow circles on your skin.

"I guess I spent the last year working on myself and figuring out what I want now in a relationship," you continue.

"And what's that?"

"Where I can be myself and not have to cut off pieces to fit someone else's idea of who I should be — accepted for being me," the last part you say wistfully.

"As you should be. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Depends who you ask," you respond, quirking a smile up at him. "But I like myself alright now."

Frankie shares a bit about where things went south with Vanessa, his struggles with learning how to single parent. They had been high school sweethearts and stayed together, though he admits he felt like they were growing apart even before he joined Delta Force. How they tried to stick it out when Vanessa got pregnant with Gabi, but eventually realizing it was better for everyone if they separated.

You pull his arm tighter around you when you feel him hesitate and start to pull back after sharing about his own relationship history.

"Thanks for telling me."

"Not too much?" Frankie asks, eyes etched with worry.

"You're never too much for me, Frankie."

He visibly relaxes before asking, "Would getting dessert be too much?"

"Never," you say as you stand and offer your hands to pull him up. "Don't you know I have a whole separate stomach for dessert?"

The dessert course is a small takeaway window for Italian water ice just off the broad walk along the beach. You weigh the flavor options, debating between mango and passion fruit, before finally deciding on mango. Frankie picks passion fruit without hesitation.

He gives you a knowing smile and wink when you raise an eyebrow to his choice, "Figure that way you'll get to try both flavors." Is it possible to simultaneously melt into a puddle and combust from his thoughtfulness?

The velvety smooth ice refreshes as the fruit flavor cleanses your palate from your decadent dinner. You both make your way down the broad walk at a leisurely pace, sharing bites of yours with Frankie as he feeds you bites of his.

“Not too sweet?” he asks with a grin, knowing your bar for the ideal dessert.

“Not too sweet,” you confirm with a pleased smile.

He offers you the last spoon of his dessert, which you accept without hesitation because your sweet tooth is the boss, before he takes both your empty cups and tosses them into the trash. You intertwine your fingers in his as you continue your stroll, turning down one of the piers and walking down part of the way.

“Think this might be the best first date I’ve ever been on,” you smile at him, eye to eye as you lean back and balance on the lowest rung of the railing. His strong arms cage you in on both sides, protective as if you might possibly fall into the water below.

“Yeah?” He breathes back, curls whipped wild by the ocean’s breeze, brown eyes anchored to yours. “What would make it definitely the best first date you’ve ever been on?”

“If you kissed me right now.” The tip of your tongue wets your lower lip as your gaze flicks to his plush lips curving into a small smile at your words.

Frankie smooths your hair back before cupping your cheek with one hand. “Think I can manage that.” He presses the line of his body against you as he slots his mouth against yours, gently at first, until you open for him to lick into your mouth. A soft moan escapes your throat. He kisses you harder, his other large hand snaking up the middle of you back to cup your neck, holding you in place. You reach your hands to run your fingers through his curls, such soft curls, tugging to keep him pressed against you. When he lets out a soft moan you realize he likes it when you do that.

Your foot slips when someone suddenly catcalls the two of you, followed by a "GET A ROOM!" But Frankie catches you with his quick reflexes, holding you tight against him. "I got you, baby," he reassures, voice breathy and soft. Baby. You practically melt at the endearment. And because he's now nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear with the delicious curve of his nose, peppering kisses down the column of your neck.

"Frankie," your voice comes out breathy like you've just sprinted down the broad walk. You repeat his name when he continues to pepper you with kisses.

"Hmm," he rumbles against your neck.

"We're in public." A giggle escapes your throat.

His eyes flick up to yours, black pupils edging out the brown you get lost in, expression intense. Hungry, but not for food. He wraps an arm around your waist and places you gently back on solid ground.

"I can fix that, baby," he murmurs. Pressing a kiss to your temple and tucking your hair behind your ear, he steers you by the small of your back and leads you back to his truck.

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Endnote: Sweet's relationship with her ex-fiance is partially inspired by this quote from Robin Williams: "I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone."

Hi hi, did ya miss me? I missed YOU. Been adjusting to a new job and the absolute fatigue from training has me beat (summer powerlifting competition wee!). But I’m so glad Frankie and Sweets finally went on their date and ate so well. It’s funny, but I’ve mostly written the last chapter and I just need to get them there. I’m learning that all the stuff between is uh, the hard part. Also, I still haven’t wrapped my head around writing smut, but we’ll see. At least they kinda made out? Lol. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far. It means the world to this newbie fanfic writer. Taglist is open! You know you wanna! xoxo, Jee

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel

@copperhalfcent @triplefrontier-anniversary

#hold fast a frankie x powerlifting!reader fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #happy frankie friday #frankie friday

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