#and i end up being way too picky with myself and never finishing anything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

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mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.

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khytal · 2 years ago

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Would you mind elaborating on how you think stories in games are declining?

yeah I can do that I talked about it a little on twitter the other night

to start I just want to mention that this is based on the games I've played recently, so if you're thinking "well [this game] had a great story" I probably. didn't play it, or plan to sometime

also this is just an observation I'm making about myself. it's not very organized i'm typing this up at 5am

so this is about how good ghost trick's story is. as in so good, the feeling of finishing a game with no questions about anything significant was entirely foreign to me; and it may be the only game to ever make me feel like that for a long time

frankly I don't know if I just chose the wrong new games to play this year, or if it's the whole "sequels are generally worse than the original" thing, or if I've gotten picky about stories, or all of the above (probably all of the above and then some) but ghost trick made me realize I haven't played a single story-driven game (released in 2022) where I came out of the credits satisfied

just "...huh. ok. that's it then I guess"

however, I played a number of older titles where I was like "ohhh that was so good. wow" and was overall happy with the experience

but it's not really just limited to 2022; a lot of the games I played in 2021 too were lacking and/or didn't stick the landing in their stories

these include: p5 strikers (though I played that for the combat so I enjoyed it), ntwewy, lost judgment, nirvana initiative, and xenoblade 3 (this is a weird one bc I didn't dislike it but I didn't feel very strongly opinionated about it when I finished the game)

(tales of arise had several issues but I actually liked the ending a lot so it's an exception)

and then. there are some games I played that weren't story-driven, but had an interesting premise and just. dropped it completely somewhere along the way, or half-assed the explanations: monster hunter rise, world's end club, and smt5

rise is only here bc I thought the thing with the elder dragons speaking through the twins was really cool. and then it turned out to be nothing. but this leads into one of my points: that a lot of games are being released unfinished so players are compelled to buy dlc promising new story content for the loose threads that weren't wrapped up in the base game. and sometimes it still doesn't cover everything important that's missing

although rise doesn't count bc we got the rest of the story in free updates, it WAS literally unfinished at launch. extra content being released in paid dlc has been discussed by plenty of other people though (I just think it's one of the more significant factors contributing to why stories have felt. lacking) so. moving on

my big takeaway after playing ghost trick was that I had grown accustomed to stories that just. have the most slap-a-bandaid-on-it-and-call-it-good endings/explanations ever. I was used to being disappointed (in a "well that was a letdown" way, not an "I'm gonna miss this" way) when the credits rolled. I picked up games that promised a good story and expected important plot lines to never be addressed, because it's happened SO many times

in other words, gt caught me off guard because there was an entirely reasonable answer to every potential question I had. it's like when someone shuts your argument down so completely that you're speechless

this has also been discussed by others but I think being too hypercritical of little things/refusing to suspend disbelief is a "harmful" mindset to have. if you keep actively trying to nitpick something so you can go "I knew it!! this SUCKS" then of course you're going to be hard-pressed to find a "perfect" piece of media

and while I consider myself someone who's fully willing to go "okay, sure" in the moment, I've been exposed to so many posts that read so deeply into something incredibly minor that now I can't help but raise an eyebrow at things I never would've given a second thought to before,,,,,whenever that started

so I guess my other point here is that it feels like a lot of people don't let themselves enjoy stories when the plot gets a little nonsensical at times, or just get super hung up on the flaws. there's a difference between a game with an ending that's so bad you never want to play it again, and a game that was mostly solid but This One Negligible Thing absolutely ruined it for you

and I'm not trying to tell anyone what to enjoy or how to enjoy it but I think people could stand to not focus on the negatives so much, because it makes some stories seem a lot worse than they. actually are

xenoblade 3 is currently kind of getting this treatment (or it's at least pretty divisive from what I can tell), but some of it is actually warranted criticism while the rest of it is a lack of media literacy/not picking up on the show-don't-tell

anyway TL;DR ghost trick is the most complete game, story-wise, that I've ever played. I can't compare any other game to it bc it's on an entirely different level, but at the same time I now know what it feels like to finish a game wholly satisfied with its conclusion. and writers should put more care into the stories they've crafted for their games, particularly if they've been planning it for multiple years (though I'm aware that time constraints/pressure from higher-ups/other variables like that are detrimental to the creative process)

#anonymous #this is a long post #uhhhhh yeah idk if this is coherent i cannot think anymore #i will not engage in further discussion unless i can answer it in 10 minutes bc writing this took way too much time-

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bbyheedeungie · 4 years ago

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You have me now | Cat hybrid!Jungwon AU

Pairings: Jungwon x Reader ft. Bang Yedam

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: depression, slight nudity

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: Going through some tough times in your life, you come across someone who is struggling as well. And now you never thought you'd find solace in your cat, Jungwon.

Author's note: this is my longest fic yet! I got very emotional with this one. Btw, thank you for all your support! 😭❤may all of you have someone to depend on in your darkest times.

Dark gray clouds cloaked the skies, with vicious thunders warning everyone that heavy rain threatened to pour mercilessly. It was 5pm, your last class had ended long ago but your teacher had to make you stay to discuss important matters with you; your failing grades in his class. And to make matters worse, your boyfriend had just broken up with you through a text.

As you make your way through the gates of the school, you groaned as the cold rain engulfed you within seconds.

"Guess this day can't get any better huh."

You make a sprint for it, not caring about getting your socks muddy anymore as your arms make a futile attempt to shield yourself from the rain.

Amidst the harsh cry of downpour, you were stopped at your tracks by the sound of weeping meows, not too far away. And there it was, under a tree was a small kitty crying in sorrow as the cardboard box which was probably supposed to be its home melted away in the rain.

You've never been one to keep pets, but you've always had a soft heart when it came to animals that is why without hesitation, you scooped up the poor kitty in your arms and ran home.

You were dripping wet, shivering as the warmth of your apartment slowly welcomed you and your companion. You settled the kitty on a rug as you took a warm shower and changed into an oversized shirt and sweatpants. When you finished drying yourself, you notice that the kitty barely moved an inch from how you left it, still shivering.

"Hey kitty, you'll be okay now." you cooed and stroked its wet head and ears. It looked at you cautiously yet gratifyingly and you were shocked at how much emotion its eyes held. Almost like a human.

"That's kinda odd. But you have very beautiful eyes though." you smiled.

Never having owned a pet, you were honestly unsure on how to take care of it. And so, together with your wet books, you blow dried the kitty with your hair drier. You giggled as the kitty flinched lightly and its fur stood up, probably new to the sound and sensation of your hair drier. Your laugh fades as your eyes train upon the scars all over the poor kitty's body. You could have easily missed it because of its dark fur but as it dried more, it became more visible. You knew battle scars when you see them. As your fingertips lightly grazed your scarred wrists, your heart can't help but ache for the small cat.

"I won't let anyone or anything hurt you again. I'll take care of you from now on, okay? You can depend on me." you assured and it meowed in response, tilting it's head sideways as it blinked at you a few times.

At dinner time, you rummaged all of your cabinets for anything you can feed to the small cat. The rain hadn't ceased yet, withholding you from going outside to buy proper cat food. For the time being, you decided that a can of tuna will suffice.

You placed the bowl of food in front of the kitty, taking a few seconds before it cautiously moves closer to it to sniff it.

"Well go on, don't be picky." You raised your eyebrows, placing your hands on your hips. The kitty meowed and did that thing again, tilting its head and blinking at you before dipping it's head into the food. It only took a few minutes for it to finish eating and you felt like a proud momma. Poor little thing must have been very hungry.

That night you decided to let the kitty sleep above your blanket, settling into its place at the foot of your bed. Suddenly, the sound of raindrops have never felt so calming as you slept soundly that night for the first time in weeks.

The morning welcomed you with bright sunshine beaming through your windows. You hummed in content as you snuggle closer to the warm body that cradled yours.

Your eyes shot wide open at the sudden realization and shoved the person away from you. You stumble out of your own bed and stare at the gorgeous boy that blinked at you confusedly.

"Come back to bed, I want to sleep some more." He whined sleepily, tilting his head as he blinked at you. Why did it seem familiar to you?

You combed through your hair profusely, trying to stay calm as you rake your thoughts on what had happened last night. Did you got drunk and brought a boy over? Your blanket covered his body up to his neck but you were sure he wasn't wearing anything underneath, remembering how warm his skin felt on yours. You slap yourself internally and took a deep breath.

"Umm hey, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. Last night was a mistake." you said awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers. He blinked at you, seemingly hurt.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" He said sadly and sat up and attempted to reach out to you, your blanket sliding down to his hips. His entire torso was now in full display and you quickly stopped him.

"No, stay! Don't come near." You shrieked as you look away with your hands covering your eyes.

"Do you regret taking me in last night?" He asked bitterly, looking down to his hands.

"What, what do you mean?" You remove your hands from your eyes and glance at him, your eyes quickly falling to his scarred torso.

Just like—

"Oh! Did my human form freak you out? I'm so sorry, I'll change back."

My cat. Under the covers, was the kitty you took in.

To say that your morning was eventful was an understatement. You told him to change back to his human form and had him wear one of your oversized shirts in which he happily sniffed before putting on, and a pair of shorts that your brother had left when he last visited you. And now both of you are seated at the kitchen table, eating kimchi fried rice and eggrolls for breakfast. It has been 5 minutes of awkward silence when he decided to clear his throat.

"I guess I should introduce myself." He said shyly, his eyes glued to his plate.

"Please do." you nod, trying to stay composed.

"I'm Jungwon, and I'm a hybrid."

You take in a shaky breath. A freaking hybrid.

"I grew up in the animal shelter, where I was separated from my parents since birth. I don't know if they're hybrids as well." his fists clenched under the table and he took a deep breath, his eyes closed tightly. You quickly notice his discomfort.

"Hey, it's okay—"

"At the animal shelter, they didn't treat me well. The workers often lashed out me and hurt me when I couldn't obey them. And I didn't know why but I had this instinct of not to show them my human form. Honestly, this has been my longest time as a human." Jungwon said ruefully, ashamed to look at you in the eyes.

"When I was old enough, I escaped and ran away. I swore to myself that I am never going back to that place. And then I ended up under that tree, drenched and starving and you appeared and you—" he choked, his tears trickled down his face and you quickly sat up fron your seat, rushed to his side and engulfed him in a hug.

"Hey, you don't have to be alone anymore. You have me now, okay?" You said as you stroked his hair comfortingly.

Once he'd calmed down, you introduced yourself as well.

"I'm Y/N. I guess I haven't told you my name last night." you chuckled. He shook his head.

"No, but I kinda peeked at your school ID while you showered. Sorry about that." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"No need to be sorry for." you giggled.

Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of your doorbell.

"Huh, who could that be?" you muttered to yourself, leaving Jungwon at the kitchen.

You opened the door, revealing your ex-boyfriend, Yedam.

"Hey, I was worried when you didn't text me back." You scoffed at him.

"Why would you even worry about me? Didn't you dump me?" you couldn't help it but you were angry at him. How he treated you so lowly that he thought you didn't even deserve a proper break up, that just a text message will be enough.

"Hey, you can't blame me. Y/N, your grades were failing, you were diagnosed with depression. You were falling apart—"

"And you decided I'm too much for you to handle. Yedam, leave." Your voice broke, your tears threatening to fall.

"Y/N wait—"

"Y/N asked you to leave." a voice spoke behind you, his hand reaching out to rub your back comfortingly. I'm here Y/N, I'm right here for you.

He didn't like the way the man you were talking to was making you feel. He could sense how upset you are and it pisses him off.

"Who are you? Back off man, this is none of your business." Yedam tried to brush him off.

"Any business of Y/N is my business too. Y/N, is this guy troubling you?" He asked you, his beautiful cat-like eyes look at you with tenderness and then shoots menacing glares at Yedam.

"No, not all." You smiled at Jungwon, and Yedam saw it. How your eyes sparkled as you look at the boy. You were happy. And when your eyes flew back to him, it was empty.

"Yedam, we're over. This conversation is over too. I hope you live a good life and thank you for being part of mine. That is all." You stated, feeling proud of yourself for handling things so well. For being strong.

"Bye then." Yedam said, turning his back to the both of you not before shooting Jungwon a look and muttering "Punk."

Once you close the door, you let your tears stream freely. Jungwon worriedly wipes away those tears.

"That human makes me want to claw his eyes out. I hate him for making you hurt like this." he scowled. You only smiled at him.

"Y/N, you don't have to be alone anymore. You have me now, okay?" he said, repeating your own words.

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twstarchives · 4 years ago

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Riddle & Silver・Chef-In-Training Voice Lines

● Event: NRC Master Chef ~Meat Paradise~ (Feb 12 - Feb 25, 2021) ● Exclusive Cards: Riddle & Silver

Riddle Rosehearts - SR

Unlock Card “As dorm leader, I always have to be a model for Heartslabyul students. Of course, cooking is no exception.”

Groovy “I never thought it would feel so nice to hear someone tell you that your cooking is delicious...”

Home Setting “You have to wear clean and neat clothing if you want to step into the kitchen.”

Home Transitions “You’re supposed to change how you cook meat based on the cut. It’s almost like a puzzle.”

“As a royal, Malleus must have a refined taste. I’m positive cooking something that he would be satisfied with is a near-impossible task.”

“I still remember the first time I saw a sponge cake being made. Seeing it rise felt just like magic.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I have little to no experience with cooking, but as long as you follow the directions, there won’t be any mistakes. ...At least, there shouldn’t be.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Yes! I finished! ...Ahem. Why are you grinning like that? Is it that big of a deal to see me excited?”

Home Taps “If I commit myself to Master Chef, maybe I can eventually make a flawless strawberry tart myself...”

“I went to a fast food restaurant for the first time the other day. The taste aside, you could learn a thing or two from that pricing and service speed.”

“I don’t like the concept of ‘adding to taste.’ Shouldn’t the exact amount always be written down, no matter how small?”

“Silver is actually very skilled. I’m going to try to use his knife techniques as a guide for when I chop vegetables.”

“Agh, the cabbage broke apart again! These are too delicate. I don’t think they’re very suitable for wrapping anything with.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You seem to be awfully interested in this. But if you insist, I’ll cook for you again.”

Silver - SR

Unlock Card “As I’m improving my cooking skills, I also want to be overcoming my bad habit of dozing off.”

Groovy “I’m glad I could get this done successfully. Let’s keep at it.”

Home Setting “I’m done changing. Let’s start cooking.”

Home Transitions “I wish there was a spell that could cook ingredients in just a matter of seconds. No, I shouldn’t take the easy way out. I need to stay focused.”

“Kalim is always raving about Jamil’s food. Cooking must feel really worthwhile if it makes someone that happy to eat it.”

“When I lived in the forest, I used to snack on wild strawberries. The animals would come over and help me whenever I picked them.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I want to learn other methods of cooking than chopping and grilling. Make sure to let me know if anything’s off.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “It smells so nice. Maybe now, I could have everyone eat my food with smiles on their faces.”

Home Taps “The first dish I ever cooked by myself was risotto. The taste isn’t anything special, but it’s my favorite.”

“I’m not that picky about food. As long as I’m with someone I’m close with, most things taste good. ...Right... Most things...”

“It’s actually really straining on the arm to shake a frying pan with one hand. Sautéing lots of food would probably feel like a good workout.”

“I always knew that Riddle was very punctual, but I never imagined that he wouldn’t so much as let a tenth of a gram be off.”

“Ah! Damn it, I almost fell asleep again. I need to be careful when working with fire...”

Home Tap (Groovy) “What’s wrong? You’re not eating? ...What? It makes it hard to eat when I’m staring at you? Sorry, I just really wanted to see your reaction.”

Event Screen (Riddle) “Silver’s vegetable chopping speed is on a completely different level than mine.”

“Wrapping meat filling with cabbage... is really difficult.”

“There needs to be strict rules with cooking as well.”

Event Screen (Silver) “Riddle is always so earnest.”

“It’s a struggle to stay awake when stewing anything.”

“It ends up tasting almost the same every time.”

#twisted wonderland #voice lines #riddle rosehearts #silver #nrc master chef #events

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demxters · 4 years ago

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bluebird

natasha romanoff x f!reader

summary: she saw you everywhere she looked, memories of you haunted her like a ghost...

wc: 2,029

warning(s): post!infinity war-pre!endgame, descriptions of a panic attack, swearing

disclaimer! i haven’t read a lot of marvel fanfiction on here yet, so if this is in any way similar to any other fic on this platform it was not in any way intentional.

a/n: guess what y’all, i did it... a lot of you gave my post about writing for marvel attention so i thought i’d try it out! i did get interest from people who like to read for nat so i thought i’d write for her first. if you’d like to see me write more for marvel, please let me know and if there’s anyone in particular you want me to write for! love you all, mwah

(gif credit @misswhovian101)

It was an after mission ritual that the team had. Despite their constant protests, you always went out of your way to take care of them when they got back on days that you weren’t put out in the field. From helping them bandage up any wounds and setting out a clean set of clothes for them to change into when they got back, to making them a home cooked meal when they got back, you made sure you were always there for them. Tonight wasn’t any different. You bandaged up their wounds, put out some clean clothes, and made them some pasta for dinner. But when everyone’s taken care of and done, you and a certain avenger have an after mission ritual of your own.

“For a trained assassin, you are way more picky than I thought you would be,” you chuckle as you slide the plate across the kitchen counter to the red haired woman in front of you.

Natasha looks at you with a playful grin on her face. “What can I say? I hate bread crusts.”

Taking a bite out of your own sandwich you roll your eyes. “I’ve gotten so used to cutting off the crusts for you that whenever I make sandwiches for myself, they magically disappear off mine too. It’s almost like second nature at this point.”

Nat lets out a laugh. As she watches you continue to eat, her heart rate begins to pick up and a familiar flutter blooms in her stomach. “You’re too good to me,” she tells you sincerely.

Your eyes soften at her words. Not a lot of people saw this side of the Black Widow; the softer side who showed her love and appreciation for her friends, no, her family. You take her hand that is resting on the counter top in yours and give it a gentle squeeze. “Nonsense. I’m just treating you the way you deserve. Now hurry up and eat, we have a movie marathon to get to!”

With one last squeeze to her hand, you make your way to the loft. Natasha watches you walk away with the biggest smile taking over her features and a light blush across her cheeks.

“Stare at that sandwich any harder and I’m sure it’s going to explode.”

Natasha sighs, pushing away the plate that sat in front of her.

“C’mon Nat, it’s been days since the last time I’ve seen you eat anything,” Steve says as he takes a seat in front of the woman. “You don’t even have to finish the whole thing. I just want to see you take one bite and I’ll be satisfied. Please.”

Her gaze doesn’t stray from the plate in front of her until the sandwich begins to look blurry from the tears that welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill past her waterline. “I hate bread crusts,” she lets out, her voice breaking at the end.

If it weren’t for them being the only two people in the room, Steve might’ve missed what she said because of how quietly she said it.

“And she knew that,” Natasha continues. “She would always cut off the crusts as if it were second nature, even on her own sandwiches.” She scoffs. The tears are now flowing from her eyes and she hastily wipes them away. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that we got to live and that they-they…” She trails off letting out a quiet sob.

Steve has never seen his friend so down and defeated. Not until she lost you. He makes his way over to her and wraps her up in a hug, resting her head against his torso. Steve lets Natasha cry out everything she’s feeling. All the pain, sadness, and loss finally letting itself free. Unlike him, Natasha was set on finding a way to bring you back. She just wasn’t ready to move on. “I know. I know.” When Natasha’s sobs finally died down, Steve let her go and kneeled down on his knees forcing her to meet his eyes. “She loved you so much, you know. Even though she didn’t say it often. She really did.”

She gives him a sad smile in response and nods. “I know.”

“You know I would do anything for you, right?”

Natasha lets out a shaky breath, looking down at you with a frown. “I know you would. But throwing yourself in front of me in the middle of a fight? What were you thinking?”

You hold your breath at her question as your heart rate continues to rise. Avoiding her gaze, you pick at the frays at the edge of the hospital gown you are wearing. “I wasn’t. Seeing him aim that gun directly at you… it terrified me. The only thing I could think about was keeping you safe Nat. And you know I would do it again in a heartbeat as long as it means you’re ok.”

“But why?” Natasha asks in disbelief. Sure, you had the kindest soul on the team, that she had no doubts about. You would do anything as long as it meant keeping everyone else safe. But the way you were looking at her and tightly gripping her hand made her feel like it was so much more than that.

“Because I-”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Bruce Banner interrupts as he walks into the room.

Turning back to Natasha, you give her a sheepish smile mouthing a quick “Later,” to her before she steps to the side letting Bruce take care of you.��

“I love you,” Natasha whispers, brushing a thumb across your face in the photograph that sat on her bedside. Her mornings start the same every day. The moment she wakes up, she tells you she loves you before getting ready and going down to monitor the rest of the world. Steve would come visit every now and then to make sure she’s keeping herself alive before going to those support groups. No matter how many times Steve tried to drag her out there to go with him, she refused. Natasha absolutely loathed the thought of going to a support group because in her eyes, that meant she was letting you go. And she wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet. As Natasha stared out the window of the compound, she saw a bluebird land on the window sill. It stayed there for a bit, lightly tapping at the glass before flying away. At the sight, Nat softly smiles before the tears begin to fall once more.

“Nat. Nat look!” you nudge the woman beside you on the shoulder.

Following your finger, Natasha’s gaze lands on a tree not too far away. “What am I looking at?”

“Turn your head a little to the left and you’ll see a bluebird perched on the branch right there.”

She follows your instructions until she sees the bird. Natasha focuses her attention back to you only to see you still looking at the bird with wide eyes and a gorgeous smile. She giggles at the sight. “What, you've never seen a bluebird before?” she teases.

You playfully roll your eyes at her and turn back to meet her stare. “I have.”

“Then what’s so special about it?”

“Well, bluebirds represent hope and prosperity. Some people say that when you see a bluebird joy and happiness is soon to come your way. Isn’t that incredible?” Realizing that you’ve been going on about the bird longer than you intended, you lower your head in embarrassment.

Nat finds your reaction absolutely adorable and a small smile crosses her lips as she bumps her hip against yours. “It sure is.”

Natasha woke up with a loud gasp. She felt like she was drowning as her dreams had her reliving the day she lost you all over again. The sound of the anguish in your voice as you called out to her as your knees began to give in and your body crumbled to the ground before you completely disappeared all together. The way that your eyes met hers, wide and with fear. Never in all the years that she’s known you has Nat seen you look so terrified. Your face continued to plague her even when she closed her eyes and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. It felt like her throat was closing up and her heartbeat was going a mile a minute. Natasha was so busy squeezing her eyes shut and trying to get a hold of her breath again that she didn’t notice Steve barging into her room.

“Hey, Nat. Nat, I need you to breathe with me. Natasha? In and out…”

“In and out…”

Your head was between your arms as you listened to Natasha’s voice.

“That’s it bluebird, a couple of more times.” Natasha kneeled in front of you, watching as you took control of your breathing. She hated seeing you like this, but she knew you couldn’t control it. Nat waited a minute more before calling your name. “Y/N?”

With your eyes still closed shut, you nod. “Yeah,” you croak, throat slightly dry. “I’m ok.”

Nat takes that as her signal to move closer. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close while rubbing a comforting hand down your back. She presses her lips softly against the crown of your head as she rocks you back and forth. “Want to talk about it?”

With a sniffle, dig yourself further into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent that reminded you of home. “There’s not much to talk about. It’s the same every time.”

Natasha nods understandingly. She knew that sometimes when you got like this you’d close off from her and the team for a couple of days. She always respected your need for a little space but something about this time felt different. This time she wanted to stay and she wanted to be there for you. “That’s ok too,” she tells you softly. “We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here until you’re ready.”

You don’t answer, only wrapping your arms around her waist and giving her a light squeeze.

She gives you a squeeze back to tell you that she’s there for whatever you need. The two of you sit there in silence for what feels like hours before you finally break the silence.

“I love you Nat,” you say, your voice muffled.

Natasha could’ve sworn that her heart skipped a beat when she heard you. It was if something in her just clicked when she heard you say those three words. Ever suppressed feeling she had for you suddenly came to light. And that’s when she knew. She knew she loved you too.

“I should have told her,” Nat lets out. “I should have told her I loved her too.”

Steve sat on the edge of the bed letting her vent.

“She told me she loved me and I-I should have said something damnit!” Natasha frustratingly runs her hands through her hair slightly tugging at the roots. “And now she’s gone. She’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Steve’s heart breaks for his friend as she continues to let out her frustrations. He couldn’t blame her for how she was feeling though. He had a bit of experience of his known when it came to losing the ones you love. “You can,” Steve’s voice low, yet very prominently, echoes through the room. “You can and you will tell her you love her.”

“How?” her voice comes out as a whisper.

“I’m not sure yet. But we’re not going to give up. Do you hear me? We’re gonna get them back. Bucky, Y/N, all of them. Whatever it takes.”

An hour of silence passes between the two before Steve heads back to his room. Natasha stays curled up on her bed staring at the picture of you once more. She wipes away the remnants of tears that remain stained on her cheeks. She closes her eyes as she imagines your picture perfect smile and melodic laugh. She would do anything to have you back in her arms again. Anything. “Whatever it takes, bluebird. Whatever it takes…”

257 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE

•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.” You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #smut #catfish morales #triple frontier #x reader

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a-froger-epic · 3 years ago

Note

tw: mention of eating disorders

hey i read something about freddie having an eating disrorder, and I hate asking this but could you please explain if you know anything about it. my poor baby :(

Hey anon!

I’m sorry it took me a while to reply. This is a sensitive topic for many, so I wanted to take my time and give you the nuanced reply it deserves.

I’ve talked about this a little before, but I might as well take the opportunity now to speak about it at length. This is only my personal opinion based on everything I’ve read about Freddie and many different takes I’ve seen others put forward.

So, did Freddie have an eating disorder?

The shortest answer to that, as far as I’m concerned, is... maybe?

Before I carry on, I’d like to say that I think everyone is free to speculate about this and make up their own mind, as well as creatively explore this in their writing, and I don’t consider my opinion to be any more correct than anyone else’s.

Why do people think Freddie might have had an ED?

There are a few things about Freddie and food which could be interpreted as ED behaviours. First off, here is what Phoebe has to say about Freddie and his eating habits:

His taste in food changed over the years I was with Freddie. When I started the group of us would make monthly visits to the restaurant Shezan, an Indian eatery, in Knightsbridge. Freddie never had a menu as they always provided his favourite selection of foods without asking. As his illness progressed, his taste buds could not take the assault of spicy foods and he tended to more bland foods. He also turned his eating habits around. He used to have a lighter meal at lunch and then have a big meal in the evening, usually at a restaurant with a big group of friends. Towards the end he would eat more at lunch and a smaller meal in the evenings.

Nothing much out of the ordinary here, as far as I can see. Freddie definitely had favourite foods he enjoyed, but then, a common misconception is that people with EDs don’t like/enjoy food, and that isn’t true. Phoebe also says this:

As I have said before, Freddie was a very light eater. Some of us live to eat, but Freddie was one of those people who ate to live. He was the master of moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten a good amount. He did enjoy good food, but really didn’t need to consume very much. He loved entertaining guests at meals in the dining room at Garden Lodge and was able to disguise his non-eating by making sure everyone else was ok during the meal. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie always ate enough to keep him going, but I can’t remember one time when he leant back in the chair saying ‘I’m stuffed!’

Now here we have a lot of things to unpack. There are three things in here - moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten more, disguising his non-eating and never eating enough to be full - which are definitely known ED behaviours.

However, people who just do not care about food all that much and are light eaters do also exist. In fact, I’m one of them myself. I did struggle with Disordered Eating in my teens and my early 20s, but I have a healthy relationship with food now and I never like to eat until I’m stuffed because it’s not a nice feeling, physically, to overeat. I’m also someone who easily and genuinely forgets to eat when I’m in a creative haze. Just as an example.

Also, seeing as Freddie most likely was made to finish meals all throughout his boarding school times, like many children in lunch halls, which is usually not a great experience for children who are picky or light eaters, the “moving food around the plate to make it seem he’s eaten” could well be an old habit stemming from there.

Either way, Phoebe doesn’t seem too concerned about Freddie’s eating, and even though people with EDs are very good at hiding them, Phoebe did know him for a long time and very, very well. Phoebe could also be withholding information that he considers too private. All of that is possible, all of that is speculation.

There are other things which point to the fact that Freddie was definitely preoccupied with his weight/appearance. In this interview in 1974, he says:

“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?” He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!

The photo Freddie is most likely talking about, is this one:

It’s not a very fortunate angle, admittedly. So I think it’s possible to see where he was coming from, but even so, he was worried about his arms looking fat at a time when he looked like this:

Yes, it is important to keep in mind that people were generally thinner in the 70s than we are used to now. (Brian, for example, was also incredibly thin.) But in this picture it really is evident that Freddie was very, very thin at this point.

Other things which are often brought into the discussion around Freddie’s eating habits is the account of him throwing a fit when Brian ate one of his biscuits once, choosing to walk after a meal at a restaurant while his driver drove alongside him and his friends, eating cereal on the floor in his dressing room, this picture where he clearly prefers salad to chicken wings (unlike Roger “What Even Are Vegetables” Taylor):

All of the above, to me, are things which can be heavily read into but ultimately don’t prove very much.

And there is this bit from Mercury & Me:

The Sun did later print a photograph of Freddie taken while he was performing at the festival, which he didn't appreciate. It showed off "Flabulous Freddie" with a slight paunch, wickedly describing it as his "midriff bulge". When he saw the picture he looked at me and shook his head in despair. 'It's typical,' he said. 'If I'm slim the papers say I'm too thin and if I put on a little bit of a belly they say I'm too fat. It's a no-win situation.'

Now, that doesn’t give off the impression to me that Freddie was particularly distraught about that article, at that point in his life. But it certainly appears to have bothered him to some degree.

So what’s the conclusion?

To me, personally, it seems quite likely that Freddie did suffer from Disordered Eating in the early to mid 70s. That’s really not uncommon, sadly, although it usually afflicts young women more than young men. But he was in the spotlight and had to care about his appearance. He was clearly very preoccupied with it, not only when it came to his body, but his looks in general - there is plenty of evidence regarding that. He was very selective about which photographs of himself he did and didn’t like. However, I find it impossible to say just how much this preoccupation affected him exactly. 1974 especially was also a very taxing year for Queen. Their management was shit, they struggled with money, they almost lost Brian, their touring schedules were brutal, the press was bashing them, Freddie was struggling with his sexual identity. There were a lot of immense stress factors, and he could have very well been someone who responded to stress by not eating - just like others respond to stress by eating too much. And Disordered Eating is not classed as an eating disorder. It is, if you will, the beginning of one.

Or, he absolutely could have developed or already had an actual ED which he was hiding fairly well, and it could have affected him a lot, but nobody would have ever known because he would have been unlikely to ever speak to anybody about it.

Both is possible. I simply don’t think that there is enough information to do more than speculate on the matter, beyond: He had a preoccupation with his looks and minded what and how much he ate throughout his life.

However, in the second half of the 70s as well as the 80s, he was still thin but had started working out and looked more “athletic” thin rather than gaunt. I think it’s entirely possible that whatever issues Freddie had with food were not a constant thing but something that may have been worse and better at times, depending on his overall mental well-being and his levels of confidence.

Or, it could have been something that he always struggled with.

Again, as far as I am concerned, both is possible and I don’t feel I can say for certain. And so, my take leans towards Disordered Eating when younger and less preoccupation with it later on. That’s the impression I get.

But I wrote all this out so that others can make up their own minds, and rather than share my exact opinion, I encourage you to do just that.

#Freddie Mercury #Tw eating disorders #meta #ask response

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Trees and Picky Bees

A/N: Nothing much to see here, but some holiday fluff of the softest variety featuring our lovely Frankie Morales. This is for @bestintheparsec for no other reason than being one of the most wonderful and amazing friends. I hope you all enjoy! xx

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: too much fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Brilliant idea,” you mumbled under your breath as you rubbed your hands together to attempt to keep warm. Despite the thick gloves and multiple layers you were wearing, the cold and light snowfall was pervasive and all consuming. It would take years to get warm again, but at least soon you could be under the fluffiest of blankets with the heater cranked, “brilliant idea to volunteer and pick out the damn office tree by myself.”

You trekked around the tree farm, looking at a seemingly endless amount of trees as you tried to pick the right one. But nothing, despite how many you had looked at, seemed to be the one. They were all either too tall or too short, with too few branches or ones that were too long. Or maybe you were just being too picky. Just like always, you thought to yourself, or so everyone seems to think.

When you reached the end of the trees, you still had found nothing. You groaned as you realized you’d either have to find another tree farm or lot, or break down and purchase a fake one. The fake ones just weren’t the same...it just lacked the heart. Maybe another place would have the right tree....

“Did you need any help?” you were so consumed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. You looked up and almost instantaneously your breath caught in your throat at the handsome man. He was tall, dressed for the weather, but still sporting a baseball cap under which you could see some dark brown curls peaking out, and a lazy smile tugged across his features with one dimple on display. He wasn’t what you would consider traditionally handsome, but he definitely was in a rough, roguish way; soft brown eyes that crinkled in the corner with patchy scruff and a mustache that should have looked silly but somehow worked, and an aquiline nose that suited him perfectly.

“Umm...’ you opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to figured out if you indeed need help or if you should just play it off and try to get away before making a fool out of yourself. He watched you with such an ease that you decided it would be silly to just throw the help, “yeah, actually, I do. I just need help finding the right tree. A lot of these are a little too big, and it’s just for the office so I was wondering if you knew where the smaller ones are?”

“Definitely,” he seemed relieved when you didn’t just chase away his advances, almost as if he was expecting it, “I can show you, I’m sure we’ve got something here that will work.”

“Thanks,” you grinned at him, falling in step neck to him as he started to lead you over to the other side of the farm, “I’ve never done this on my own before and it’s surprisingly hard to find the right one!”

Gods, you almost rolled your eyes at yourself, willing yourself to stop rambling. One handsome stranger and you immediately couldn’t shut up; this wasn’t a Hallmark movie you reminded yourself, this was reality.

But the man didn’t even seem phased as he easily made conversation with you. Surprisingly there were no awkward silences and everything felt natural. Before you knew it, you’d located the perfect tree for the office and the man had it wrapped up for you, going so far as to bring it back to your car for you.

“Are you going to have help getting this down and setting it up?” he asked as he finishing tying the tree up to the roof rack. A wicked little part of you wanted to say no and somehow convince to come along with you or something, but you knew that would be a long shot. Besides that, you knew that there were plenty of people back at the office that could help you. Unfortunately not him.

“Yes,” you promised softly, “I’m sure I’ve got it from here. Thank you for all of your help. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he offered you a gentle smile as the two of your stood there in silence for a few moments, neither wanting to end whatever you had started up just get, “I realized I didn’t catch your name...”

You took his outstretched as you told him your name and he told you his. Frankie, well Francisco, but call me Frankie. You decided that you immediately liked him, as your heart fluttered softly from the touch of his hand. You hadn’t felt anything even remotely close in some time, “well, I guess I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Frankie.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you to slip inside. Despite not wanting to leave, not yet anyway, you had no real reason to stay. The thought of asking for his number or something crossed your mind, but you weren’t able to muster up the courage. Instead you turned on the car and Frankie shut your door, giving you a small wave before you slowly drove away.

You regretted not making some sort of move almost immediately. As Frankie watched you drive away, he realized he had exactly the same regret. But it was too late now; it wasn’t like people regularly needed Christmas trees, and the season would be over soon enough anyways, and the Garcias would close the farm again until the fall.

It was no matter, Frankie shrugged to himself, at least he’d gotten to spend a few moments in your magnetic orbit.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Okay, so when are you going to tell me what's going on?" Kelly nudged your leg from under the table as the two of you ate your customary Sunday brunch in relative silence. You could blame it on the delicious food that you were eating, but you knew she'd be able to see right through your lie. Reaching for your coffee, you took a long sip and offered her a noncommittal shrug, "you're deflecting. Nice try, but I'll just keep asking until you give me a good answer."

Rolling your eyes dramatically at her, you set down the steaming mug and swallowed the sweet sip, "what do you mean? Nothing is going on."

"I've known you since we were children and I know a lie from a mile away," she reminded you, "you've been so down lately. Did something happen?"

"No," you admitted softly, sighing before leaning back in your chair and giving her a half hearted smile, "its more like what didn't happen."

"Oh well by all means, tell me what didn't happen," she encouraged you to go on as huffed lightly, "come onnnn! Tell me!"

"Alright, alright," you looked around as lowered your voice, almost as if you were expecting to see him there suddenly, "it was last week, when I went to get that tree for work. I went to the lot and couldn't find a good tree and I met this nice guy that worked there. We talked for a while and he helped me and then...that was that."

"That was that!?" she almost shrieked as you buried your face in your hands, "you didn't get his number or anything?"

"I chickened out," you groaned, "I want to, but I talked myself out of it! What if I was just thinking too much about it and he wasn't...flirting or anything. What if he was just being super nice?"

"Listen, I love you, but you are a fool," she chided playfully, "clearly you liked him if you're still thinking about him! And let's be honest, that doesn't happen very often-"

"Because I'm too picky," you finished for her, pushing around a bite of food on your plate.

"No! Because you have high standards and aren't willing to lower them just for a relationship or whatever you want to call it," she corrected as you gave her a faint smile, "which is not a bad thing at all! The best things come to those who wait. But if someone did catch your eye like that, then maybe...its worth pursuing."

"I don't want to set myself up for failure," you whispered as you stared at your plate, "I could easily be taking everything the wrong way."

"There's only one way to find out..." her face lit up with glee as it took you a moment to catch onto what she was saying, "you don't have a Christmas tree for your apartment yet!"

"Oh no," you shook your head lightly, "I couldn't...it would be so obvious. Besides I already got a tree!"

"For the office," she reminded you, "he knows that! Obviously you'll need one for home too. It makes perfect sense. I'll even go with you if you want, and we can pretend it's for me."

"I dunno," you shrugged lightly, "I dunno if it's a good idea..."

"Of course it is," she disagreed, "now hurry up and finish and we can go!"

"Fuck me," you sighed softly, Kelly could see there was a little smile tugging on your features, "fine..."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d walked through the whole tree farm at least twice and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Frankie. Maybe he had the day off, or only worked certain hours, or he’d seen you and tried to purposely avoid you or...something. Clearly it wasn’t meant to be and this had turned out to be a colossal waste of time.

“He’s not here,” you said softly to Kelly, who simply looped her arm through yours in a sign of reassurance, “this was silly, a long shot anyway...we can just go.”

“We can try again tomorrow, or maybe ask at the the front? Just ask about him and tell them that he was so great you just wanted to thank him?” she was chalk full of suggestions as you stared at your boots and remained silent for a few moments.

“There’s no point,” you insisted, “better to just let it go than waste my time.”

“It’s a not a waste of time-” she started but quickly stopped when your name was being shouted out. Your face went through a wave of emotions as you looked up and found your allusive Frankie from the prior week. Kelly beamed at you as she dropped her arm from yours and shoved you gently in his direction, “go!”

“H-hi,” you said softly as you turned to face him, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe while your heart was practically fluttering and stomach was doing somersaults, “Frankie! It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Hey,” he stopped in front of you, his cheeks pink from the cold winter chill. His eyes crinkled at the corners just as you had remembered, giving him a youthful appearance, despite his age, “it’s good to see you too. I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Was that a note of quiet disappointment in his voice?

“I...yeah, my friend Kelly needs a tree for her place and I told her about how great you were at helping me find the perfect one, so obviously we had to come back,” you stumbled lightly over your words as Kelly shook with silent laughter as your nervous tone, “if you have any suggestions or time that is.”

“Yes,” he said eagerly with a nod, “of course. Come on, let’s find you the perfect tree!”

“Jiminy Cricket,” she snorted quietly to herself as she followed after the two of you, thoroughly resigned to the idea that she was going to be a third wheel on this little adventure. But it didn’t matter to her, she wanted to do this for you, and if this simple thing was all it took to get you some happiness, then she was more than willing to do it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several hours later when you’d finally settled on a packed up a tree for Kelly. The tree was the easiest find of all, it had taken almost no time once you’d actually stopped walked around aimlessly and worked on finding it. Instead you and Frankie walked around the farm and the conversation quickly turned from Christmas trees and holidays to a little bit of anything and everything. Conversation with Frankie was easy and followed naturally, and there was never a single moment of awkwardness.

Was it always this easy or was it just easy with him?

When you reached the front, you told both of them you were going to pay for the tree while they got it onto the car. As soon as you were gone, Kelly pulled Frankie close to her and lowered her voice.

“She really likes you,” she told him softly watched a large grin cross his features, “she was thinking about you since you helped her find that first tree. I finally pulled it out of her and convinced her to come back. It’s obvious, to me anyways.”

“I’ve been thinking about her too,” he confessed, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “I wanted to ask for her number last time, but chickened out. I didn’t even know where to begin to look for her...I’m glad she came back.”

“She doesn’t like a lot of people,” she carried on, as Frankie tried to still the wild beating of his heart, “really. So it’s kind of a big deal when she does. Consider yourself lucky, Francisco. She’s amazing, truly. And my best friend, so if you were so anything to hurt her, I will hunt you down myself.”

“I-I won’t,” he promised as you came over to them, tucking away your wallet. Kelly gave him a little nod of encouragement as he turned to you and sweetly said your name, “I was wondering...are you free for dinner tomorrow tonight? It’s just...obviously if you want to, if not it’s totally fine too....I just...yeah.”

“I’d love to,” you said eagerly as you tried not to bounce on your heels too much, “it’s yeah...I’m free. Definitely.”

“Oh boy,” Kelly sniggered at the awkward exchange between the two of you.

“Can I get your number and I can text you later and we can settle on a time and place?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it before handing it to you. Taking it gentle from his hand, you put in your number before giving it back to him, the two of your grinning like excited children, “great, so I...I’ll text you later.”

“I look forward to it Frankie,” you grinned as Kelly opened the door to the passenger side and got, pointedly clearing her throat, “talk to you later.”

“Yes,” he replied as he once again held open your door and helped you in, “until then.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Honey?” his voice was gentle and soft as you called back to him and informed that you were in the kitchen. You heard the soft tread of his feet before you saw him, your grin matching his when you met his eyes, “hi Honey Bee.”

“Hi Frankie,” you wiped your hands on the teatowel over your shoulder, tossing it onto the counter when you were and rushing over to him. He opened his arms for you, wrapping them up and trapping you within in his tight grasp within seconds, “I’ve missed you.”

“I was only gone for a few hours. It didn’t take long to start getting the farm all set up for the season,” he hummed in content as you scooped off his trademark hat and tossed it onto the couch. Carding a hand gently through his dark curls, you tugged at them before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I missed you too.”

“As you should,” you teased, patting his bum before moving back to the pie you were preparing. He snorted with laughter as he took a seat at the bar and watched you closely, but not before asking if you needed help with anything. You insisted that this was better left up to you and politely reminded him that the last time he was tried to bake anything, he’d set a pot holder on fire, “what do you want to do tonight, Frankie? I think this is the first evening since the holidays started that we have time to ourselves.”

He let out a long exhale of satisfaction as you nodded. It wasn’t that the two of you didn't enjoy the holidays, it was just that you were always doing something, between both of your jobs, his family, your family, and friends, it was rare to get a moment of downtime.

“I have an idea, if the lady would be so kind as to hear me out,” you raised an eyebrow at him as you started to pour the pumpkin pie filling into the crust but not before motioning for him to go, “date night.”

“Date night,” you repeated as you gave him a curious look, “I like the sound of that Mr. Morales, go on. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, Mrs. Morales,” you couldn’t help but beam at his words. It wasn't even that it was a new thing anymore, you’d been married for just over a year, but it still made your heart flutter every time. Especially when Frankie said it with that deep, rich timber of his voice, “I was thinking we could get dinner at the diner with the pancakes we both love, and then maybe go ice skating, and then dessert at that new bakery? Apparently their cookies are killer, especially their soft chocolate chip kind! What do you say? Will you let me take you out?”

“You are amazing, Frankie,” you gave him such a soft look that he felt his heart melt all over again, just like it had the first time he meet those five long years ago, just like the day he asked you to marry, just like the day of your wedding, just like so many wonderful times. You made quick work of shoving the pie into the over before leaning over the counter to give him a kiss, “I’d love to. It all sounds perfect. Have you been thinking about this haven’t you?”

“Of course,” he admitted, “it’s about we had a night to ourselves to relax, isn’t it?”

“I wholeheartedly concur,” you agreed as you sighed contently, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grinned, “we still have to go and pick out a tree soon. Maybe we can go this weekend?”

"Hmm, now that sounds perfect," you agreed. Ever since the fateful year when you had met him while tree hunting, looking for a Christmas together had become a tradition, and one of your favorite parts of the season. Everywhere you went back to the Garcia's Tree Farm and sent the afternoon picking out the perfect one. You wouldn't have it any other way, "I can't wait to see what we manage to find this year."

"I've already found everything I could ever need," he whispered softly as your face flushed with warmth, as he reached for your hand, "but a tree won't hurt either."

“See, now how do you expect me to compete with you when you say things like that?” you stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a cheeky grin before shrugging innocently, “I’m going to go and shower while the pie bakes...care to join me?”

“And that’s exactly how you compete with me,” he trailed after you, reaching for your hand as you laughed, leading him into the master bathroom, “saying things like that.”

“Oh Francisco,” you pulled him in and reached for the hem of his shirt, “I love you so much, but right now I’d like you to use your mouth for things other than words.”

“Now that I can definitely do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I think maybe we have to wait an hour to do this,” Frankie swallowed nervously as he started to lace up the ice skates on his feet. Your eyebrows raised so high that they almost melded into your hairline as you finished tying your own skates, “you know, since we just ate.”

“This isn’t like swimming,” you laughed at the nervous expression on his face, “have you ever been ice skating before, Frankie?”

“Yes, obviously,” he insisted as you moved his hands out of the way and took over the lacing job for him, “once, twenty years ago when I was a kid.”

“Oh my - Frankie!” you shoulders shook with laughter as you noticed the sheepish expression on his face, “I thought you would have gone more recently than that, you silly man.”

“I never really had any reason to.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Just remember this was your idea after all!”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, “just umm...will you hold my hand? And maybe we can take it slow?”

“Like I wasn’t going to hold your hand anyway,” you shot a wink before slowly standing up and reaching for both of his large gloved hands. You held them up, palms pressed together and studying them for a moment before lacing them together, “see? They fit together perfectly. My hands were meant to hold yours.”

He remained silent as he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed from your words and the cold breeze swirling through the open air ice skating rink. Shuffling slowly towards the entrance to the ice, you were glad that not many people had picked tonight to go skating, it would allow you both some time to adjust.

You stepped onto the ice and reached for the side to ground yourself before reaching for Frankie and pulling him towards you. He was shaky on his feet, trying to best not to fall, not because he was worried about the embarrassment of falling, most because he didn’t want to deal with soreness for days afterwards. He traded places with you, clutching the railing tightly in one hand the yours in the other as you beamed at him, “slow and easy does it.”

“You’ve got this, Frankie,” you promised, finding your own balance bit by bit as you reacquainted yourself with the feeling being on the ice, “can I ask you something?”

“That would be preferable,” there was a nervous shake to his voice as you nodded, “it’ll distract me from feeling like I’m going to eat shit every second.”

“Why did you want to come ice skating?”

“I know you’d like it,” he stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you’ve always mentioned wanting to go and we never have. I figured now was the perfect time. Besides, it’s romantic and winter-y!”

“You are the best, Frankie,” you shook at your head lightly; there were some days when you still wondered how you got so lucky as to have him in your life, not just as a random figure, but as your husband. He really had been worth the wait and you thanked your lucky stars for him every day, “this is very romantic, and I couldn’t asked for a better partner.”

The two of you skated for some time, going around in slow circles at first and then gradually pulling away from the railing as Frankie grew more confident with his skating ability. Eventually he was able to let go completely and you both skated around hand in hand, giggling and laughing about anything and everything.

At one point, you’d gotten a little too confident and the tip of your skate caught on some phantom nick in the ice and you took a tumble, unable to stop yourself from landing on your bum. You’d had at least enough time to let go of Frankie’s hand to stop yourself from dragging him down, but as he tried to scoop you up, he lost his own balance and landed next to you.

“Frankie! Are you okay?” you asked when you as to tried your best not to giggled at the surprised look on his face or how his beanie had slid down and covered his eyes. Reaching over, you pushed up the beanie so he could again, stopping to brush a few snowflakes out of his curly locks, “after all that fuss and it was me that actually fell. See you had nothing to worry about!”

“Are you alright?” he looked you up and down, hands finding your face to check you over, “my silly little bee.”

“I’m alright,” you promised, “you?”

“Yes,” his eyes studied yours before he crashed his lips onto yours and gave you a few soft kisses. He still tasted sweet, like the hot chocolate and pancakes you’d both had for dinner, and let his lips linger against yours, “as much as I enjoyed that, I think we need to get up before we freeze to death.”

“Good plan. This is going to take a moment and I don’t want to hear a single word,” you started to scoot across the ice and back to the wall, dragging him behind you as you both held onto it and scrambled to your feet, “maybe next time we won’t fall at all.”

“Ahh, it would be worth even if we do, so as long as we have fun,” he pulled the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around your own when he noticed you shivering lightly. You’d forgotten yours at him, but of course weren’t going to ask for his, but had made a mental note to leave on in the truck for occasions such as this, “better?”

“Frankie-”

“Don’t argue with me,” he booped your nose as you both slumped back onto the bench and pulled off your skates, “ready for dessert?”

“Absolutely,” you almost bounced to your feet as you slipped your boots back and patiently waited for Frankie. You were watching with him nothing but sheer adoration in your eyes. This was your husband, you remembered, this amazing marvel of a human was yours. You loved him and he loved you; what a beautiful world it was.

“What?” he asked as he grabbed your skates and his to return, easily grabbing both pairs with one hand, “something on my face?”

“No,” you promised, “just thinking about how much I love you.”

“Oh,” he looked at you for a moment as a slow smile brushed onto his features, “oh. I love you, con todo, mi vida.”

“And that’s very sexy of you,” you laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, “I told you that you always know just what to say.”

“I’ll be sure to speak even more to after dessert,” he commented innocently as he opened the truck door for you to get in. You knew exactly what he meant; there was something about the way he managed to slip into Spanish while you were making love that was just...heavenly.

“I’m counting on that hot stuff,” you teased as he got into the driver’s side and turned on the truck making sure the heater was set to exactly how you liked it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I don’t know where you heard about this place from, but it’s amazing,” you couldn’t help but mumble through a mouth stuffed with cookies and ice cream. The cookies were warmed and soft and the vanilla bean ice cream was melting perfectly onto them. Frankie raised an eyebrow at you as he took a bite of his own pie. You wolfed down your bite before trying again, “these cookies are so good it’s almost sinful.”

“Santi told me about this place,” he took his fork and offered you a bit of his apple pie. You opened your mouth and eagerly accepted it, savoring the sweet flavor on your tongue to get a good taste of it, “for once his suggestion turned out to be worthwhile.”

“Francisco! You’re so mean!” you laughed as you gathered a bit of cookie and ice cream in your spoon and held it out for him. He grabbed your wrist and locked those honeyed eyes on your eyes as he slowly took the bite and licked the spoon clean. It was pointedly much more sexual than it needed to be, but you weren’t going to argue with that, “no more bites for you. If you’re going to keep doing that. I want to eat in peace, mister.”

“Honey, dessert is what’s happening at home,” his voice dropped an octave to that tone that always managed to send shivers down your spine as his eyes grew darker, “this is the foreplay.”

“Umm, why don’t we go home now and we can save the rest for later?”

“Excellent plan,” he agreed as he turned the truck on again and pulled out of the parking lot of the small little bakery that you would definitely be coming back.

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time Frankie pulled into the driveway, you felt more like teenagers sneaking around than the grown adults you were. You’d been stealing kisses and touches from one another as he drove him, leaving the two of breathless and with flushed faces. He practically jumped out of the truck and swooped you out of the passenger seat before heading for the door as you peppered his neck and jaw in kisses.

But when he got to the front door, he slowed down, taking his time to open the door and walk into the hallway, turning on the light. You stopped what you were doing, reaching up and touching his scruffy cheek, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“It’s...do you promise not to laugh?” he adopted a serious tone as he watched your face for any shift of expression.

“Never, my sweet Frankie,” you gave him your most serious tone as you silently encouraged him to go on.

“Okay, well, when we first got together and went to that Christmas party at your office there was Mistletoe,” he explained as he slowly set you back down on the floor, making sure you were steady on your feet before letting go, “do you remember?”

“I do,” the memories instantly flooded, technicolor and vivid in your mind. It was a few weeks after you’d first met Frankie and the two of you were spending almost every waking moment together. Naturally, you’d asked him to come to your office Christmas party, and it had turned out to be a night of many firsts, “I swear it was hanging in every doorway.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“Hmmm...” you tapped your chin thoughtfully as you tried to recall but drew a blank, “no? What did I say?”

“You said you’d never been kissed under the Mistletoe,” he explained, “and that you thought it was outdated and cheesy and you would never kiss someone under it unless you were positive they were the one.”

“I did,” you laughed lightly at the memory, remembering now that you had told him all of this while the two of you had been lightly buzzing from all the wine and champagne, “I...you remember. I can’t believe you remember such a silly little thing.”

“It’s not silly,” he insisted, “not to me. But I have a little surprise.”

“Another surprise?” your mouth gaped as he took your and slowly pulled you towards your bedroom, a wicked little smile on face.

“I didn’t forget anything when I came back in before we left,” he admitted, “I came back in to hang this.”

With a flourish he pointed to the door frame and watched your face light up as you took in the fresh little bundle of Mistletoe that he had carefully hung up before you’d left on your little date night.

“Francisco,” his name fell from your lips softly, reverently, as you looked back at him, “this is...I can’t believe you did all of this. You remembered this...”

“Because I love you,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as you tried not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes spill over, “but remember, you said you’d only kiss someone under it if you were sure they’re the one. May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” you offered him a teary little smile, “you are the one. You have always been and always will be, Frankie. I don’t think I can properly put into words just how much I adore you.”

“I know,” he wiped away the tear that had rolled down your cheeky as you wrapped your arms around him, “you are everything.”

And then he kissed. Because he was the one.

And always would be.

You were never more thankful for agreeing to trek out and get that Christmas tree by yourself those five long years ago.

It had given you everything and then some.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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kireii-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request yandere Tomura stalking his obsession?

I’m your biggest fan

a/n: this has got to be the longest shigaraki fic i’ve written. which really surprises me since shigaraki isn’t really my type.

warning(s): stalking, yandere tendencies, mentions of drugging, slight cursing, a tad too long

It started out with an innocent cup of coffee.

Then, it was the constant request for you to serve him.

Afterwards came the personal questions asked as you sat across him at the usual table he would park himself at after your shifts.

Next came multiple coincidences of running into him when you least expect it.

Of course, you were too naive and innocent to see through his intentions. That’s why he chose you.

At first, Shigaraki had entered the cafe you worked at in hopes of finding a hostage to threaten the pro-heroes, under the pretense of just causally dropping in, like many other customers do.

When he opened the door to the homely cafe, you were the one that greeted him with the warm and kind smile you’ve always had on your face. At first Shigaraki thought nothing of you, until you walked up to him to take his order.

“Good afternoon, sir. May I take your order?” You grinned at the light blue haired male sitting at the small table furtherest away from everyone.

There it was again- that same smile that you gave him when he first entered the cafe.

“Just a coffee.” The male replied gruffly as he pulled the hood of his jacket further down his face.

“We have many types of coffee, sir. Which one are you interested in?” The smile was still plastered on your face as you stood there, waiting for his reply. “We have different types of lattes, mochas and espressos. May I also interest you in the different cakes and breads we have?”

“Whatever, just get me anything.” Shigaraki replied impatiently. “I don’t know what to get, surprise me.”

Upon hearing his reply, you were slightly taken aback by surprise. Sure, you’ve dealt with many customers who were picky, but never one who was uninterested in picking out an order.

“Very well then,” You clicked your pen. “Do give me a moment.” Smiling at him, you turned your back towards Shigaraki and made your way to the counter.

~~~

“Here is your coffee, sir.” Your voice caught Shigaraki’s attention as he turned his attention away from the window. “Do enjoy.”

“What is this?” The male asked as he took a whiff of the aromatic scent of the coffee in front of him.

“Matcha latte.” You smiled. “Our store’s speciality.” Seeing no reaction from the man in front of you as he continues surveying the coffee in front of him, you figured a little background information wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially him.

“Did you know? The matcha latte is our specialty because it-“

“I don’t care.” Shigaraki spoke up with such brusqueness that you immediately stopped talking. “What’s your name.” He asked or rather, demanded.

“Y/n. My name is y/n.” You replied quickly, as if eager to please him when in reality, you were just afraid he might pick on you and cause the manager to come out. There’s no knowing if you’ll get to keep your job if that happens.

“Y/n....” Shigaraki hummed as he drummed his fingers on the smooth table absentmindedly. “That’s a nice name.” He muttered. If you hadn’t been paying close attention, you would have brushed it off. Instead, a blush slowly crept onto your face at his words.

“When are you done with work? I want to get to know you more.”

Checking the clock on the wall, your face lit up with the prospect of pleasing a customer. “Five more minutes.” You informed him.

“Then come back in 5 minutes.” The red eyed man replied, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze avoided you.

He was like a little kid, you thought.

“See you in 5 minutes then.” You chirped happily at the prospect of making a new friend.

“Oh and,” You turned back to face the man that was looking at your retreating form.

“What’s your name?”

“...”

“Shigaraki Tomura.”

~~~

Ever since then, you’ve hung out with Tomura every time your shift ends. Without fail, he would be waiting quietly at the same table the both of you first met, until you were ready to approach him.

Sometimes it was just hanging out at the cafe after work, catching up on anything and everything. Other times the both of you would walk through the town without a destination in mind as Tomura listened to you talk about your day.

It’s been three months.

Three months since you’ve met Tomura, and you’ve never once asked him what he does for a living. And he doesn’t tell you anything about himself either.

And then one day, he didn’t drop by the cafe as usual. You thought it was strange, but for all you know he could be busy.

As the last customer made their way out of the cafe, you started to clean up when your co-worker took on the job of closing the store, allowing you to leave earlier than planned.

Even though you left earlier, it was close to midnight when you alighted from the train. By now, there were not many people in the station.

Wrapping your coat around yourself, you hastily walked towards the direction of your home. There has been news of dangerous people lurking around the neighbourhood, and you wouldn’t want to risk bumping into them.

Although close to the station, the neighborhood you lived it was a rather old one. Dim streetlights lit the way home, but they were so dim that it didn’t help much. Often you would hear of rowdy people laughing as they drink themselves drunk in the dead of the night, causing a ruckus to the people living close by.

Picking up your pace, you avoided all eye contact and strained your ears to hear for any footsteps apart from yours as you took a turn into the neighborhood. You thought it was stupid to be so anxious about it, but you wouldn’t want to end up dead in an alley the next day because of one mistake.

But still, you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling of someone or something watching you from the shadows. Turning back ever so frequently, you would scan the surrounding for any signs of a stalker. Every now and then, you could feel someone or something watching you as you walked hastily towards your home. And your suspicions were confirmed when a group of men emerged from the dark, menacing looks plastered on their faces.

“Hey little thing,” One of them drawled as he made his way towards you, the smell of liquor hanging onto his clothes and skin. “Where are you going? Let me take you there.” He hiccuped.

You tried to walk past him, but his drunkard friends surrounded you in a circle, preventing you from escaping.

“Are you deaf?” Another man demanded impatiently. “He asked you where you’re going. Are you gonna ignore him? You know what happens to stupid people like you who don’t answer big bro?” the man on your right snarled at you.

You could’ve just run through them, but fear overtook your body, your legs frozen in place. You whole body shook in trepidation. Is this how you’re going to die?

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that the men were now closing in on you. They were the kind of people that the neighborhood police have warned the people living close by about. They’ve been trying to nab these guys, but were unable to because they would evade the police and seem to have a hiding spot that nobody knows about.

A surprised yelp left your lips as you were being pulled by the collar from behind, your legs desperately trying to regain stability.

“Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.” You begged as a last resort. In response, you were roughly pushed to your knees as “big bro” stood in front of your trembling form, his hands undoing his belt.

“Stupid bitches like you should just shut up and do as you’re told.” He slurred.

By now, the feeling of someone else watching you apart from the men who’ve cornered you were the least of your concerns.

“No! Please!” Tears were running down your face in fear of your situation as two men from behind tore your coat away and roughly pinned you down.

A stinging slap to your face was all you got in response.

“Better open your mouth nice and wide.” The supposed leader hiccuped, his face flushed red from the liquor he has downed.

While you struggled against your captors and begged for your life, you thought it was over as the man grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open.

As the sight of him drew closer to you, tears wouldn’t stop leaking from your eyes. Maybe, if you closed your eyes it would be better. Not like it would help you get out of this situation you’re currently in.

But when the grip on your jaw loosened, you opened your teary eyes to see that the man had completely disappeared. And in his place was a pile of ash and dust.

“He should’ve gotten his filthy hands off what belongs to me.” A familiar voice reached your ears.

“T-Tomura?” You looked up through blurry eyes to see the oh so familiar face staring at the pile of ash with contempt.

Instantly, the rest of the men who’ve had you cornered released you and stumbled backwards as if they had seen a ghost, a look of fear flashing before their faces.

“Oi, are the both of you going to come out or do I have to finish this myself? If that’s the case, what’s the point of bringing you guys along?” Tomura said to no one in particular as he scratched the back of his neck.

“What’s the rush?” A second voice replied as a man with scars on his face and hands emerged from the shadows. “We have all the time in the world.” The man smirked at your assaulters as he ran a scarred hand through his thick, black hair. “And also, I didn’t join you so I could save some damsel in distress, Shigaraki.”

“Dabi’s right, you know. I just wanted to see for myself how y/n looked like, not come and play hero. We should leave that to the real heroes.” A blonde haired girl giggled, knife in hand. “But I can see why y/n’s got your interest. I guess you following her around for 3 months really did pay off.”

“Are you going to help me get rid of these good for nothings or am I going to have to disintegrate you for talking too much, Toga?” Tomura questioned the girl named Toga.

“Well,” She started. “There’s new blood, so I guess i’ll help out then!” Toga bounced up and down gleefully.

As the remaining of your captors tried to run away, Toga leapt at the closest man and plunged her knife into his neck, all the while chanting “new blood, new blood” gleefully like a little kid.

“Dabi. You get the rest.” Tomura scratched his neck, a red spot emerging slowly but surely.

It was then when you felt warmth as blue light emitted from the the black haired male’s palm. Wait no, it wasn’t light.

It was blue flames.

Soon, the terrified screams of the men who’d attacked you died down in the flames, the nearby walls scorched and tainted black with the aftermath of the blue flames.

And there you were, clutching your coat that Tomura had picked up to your chest, trying to process what just happened.

Tomura just disintegrated someone, the girl called Toga was collecting the blood of her victim, and the man with blue flames was standing there, his hands now shoved into his jeans.

“Y/n.” Tomura spoke as he looked at you, who was still a trembling mess on the floor.

“H-how did you know I would be here? Who are these people? W-who are you?”

The night was still and quiet now apart from Toga’s quiet humming as she cleaned her knife, your questions hanging in the air unanswered.

“You k-killed someone.” You whispered, Tomura becoming a stranger in your eyes.

“...”

“Because he touched you. He touched what belongs to me.” Tomura replied, a hint of remorse nowhere to be found.

“Why don’t you just tell her that you’ve been watching her like the creep you are for the past few months already.” Dabi smirked.

“And who we are!” Toga piped up.

Silence greeted the four of you as Tomura stood there, staring at you intently.

“no... wait!” You cried out as you inched back from the once familiar figure in front of you. Now, he was someone else- a murderer who feels no remorse and not the Shigaraki Tomura that you knew.

“So?” The blue hair man scratched his nape out of frustration. “I told you, it’s because they touched what is mine.”

What’s his? Did he mean you? Since when did you belong to him.

“H-how long have you been following me?” You questioned, hoping that he wouldn’t hear the fear in your shaky voice. You needed to stall as much time as possible while thinking of an escape route. But three against one? Only a miracle would allow you escape.

“Long enough to know your daily routine.” The man name Dabi smirked, mockery lacing his words as Tomura stared down at you and said nothing.

“Creep.” You couldn’t help but whisper under your breath. Your eyes were stinging and blurry with the tears that were threatening to spill over, but you didn’t dare to look away from Tomura out of fear that he might try something in the mere split second.

“We’ll save the questions for later.” He finally spoke up. When you finally looked at him, a syringe was in his hands.

“For now, get some rest.”

A soft gasp left your lips as the stinging feeling of needle pierced your skin, and drowsiness slowly overtook you, your body heavy like lead.

The last thing you saw was Tomura’s ruby red eyes looking down at you.

“I’ll protect you forever, y/n.”

#anime #bnha #mha x reader #mha shigaraki #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #yandere shigaraki #tomura x reader #bnha shigaraki #yandere x reader #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x reader #yandere tomura

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steepgan · 4 years ago

Text

someone dear (iii) - d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

FINAL PART!!!! also i hate this part the most because i definitely rushed it and i could feel myself losing steam for writing so i wanted to finish it asap LMFAO ALSO DILUC IS HELLA OOC IM SO SORRY I STARTED PLAYING GENSHIN LIKE SIX DAYS AGO IM RELLY REALLY SORRY LAFAHFOA#@*$@)*$

Today was payday.

“You look…” Charles made a face. “Vibrant.”

“I get paid!” you squealed.

“Oh, boy,” Charles said. “You know there’s more to life than money, [Name]. There’s knowledge. You could always learn more. There’s love. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a significant other, honestly. There’s—”

You waved a dismissive hand. “I know all that already! I’m satisfied, Charles. It’s just not so bad to be financially secure while I’m at it. Money is the best thing ever!”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“The root of all evil is buried deep within that chest of yours,” you accused. You picked up a clean rag and soaked it in a water basin. “You never let me have any fun on payday. Anyway, today there’s a new book being released, and I’ve been waiting for the sequel since forever.”

Charles nodded. “I think I know which book you’re talking about. Give it time and your librarian friend will have it in the library in no time.”

“That very librarian friend is coming today to hand-deliver the book to me.”

“Of course. Never once would you abandon your shift for books. Though, I think I’ve once seen you leave midway through the day because you saw a cat on the balcony while standing outside.”

“It was a cute cat,” you defended.

“You shouldn’t make friends with cats. They’re very picky and particular with whom they associate with.”

“Ah,” you said absentmindedly, “like Master Diluc.”

“[Name], that’s your boss.”

You deserved the reprimand. “Sorry. It’s not anything bad. I actually took your advice the other day and chatted with him a bit. He’s not as… cold as I thought, but he’s certainly as chilly as Snezhnaya at times.”

Diluc had been somewhat stubborn when you insisted on helping him. You didn’t understand. It was only natural to be there for other people; however, Diluc believed differently. He was right in some ways. Too much dependency would lead one to no good, but that was not your concern.

“Before comparing your employer to one of the coldest nations in Teyvat,” Charles said, “I nominate you to call for Patton a bit today. He’s coming in late ‘cause he’s wrapped up with something today.”

“Do you think me standing out there would do the tavern some good?”

“Try wearing a costume. Draws attention.”

“Right on. Let me see if there’s any maid uniforms in the back.”

As much as you worshipped your own looks on a daily basis, standing outside where Patton typically was took a toll on your body. But your mental health persevered. After all, you were getting paid today. Nothing could deter your smile.

You stood outside, calling out passing people with hopes of luring them in with Dandelion Wine. Diona, who worked at Cat’s Tail, stopped by to convince you to join her tavern. She was ultimately dedicated to sabotaging the traditional and rich wine industry of Mondstadt yet was doing rather poorly at it. You declined politely, as your job was the wine industry of Mondstadt.

Nimrod, one of the usuals, entered the tavern. He dodged his wife who condemned his drinking habits. He typically hung around Angel’s Share for the addicting wine. It was not strange to see him coming in and out of alleyways.

Not even the approaching Master Diluc could taint your spirits.

The approaching Master Diluc.

You’d recognize his hair and determined face anywhere. You were accustomed to seeing it, as you saw him often. You smiled and greeted him accordingly just before he entered the tavern. “Hello, Master Diluc. Have a good day today.”

“I will,” he said. “I assume today’s a good day for you, too.”

“Of course.”

Donna was giving him puppy-dog eyes around the corner, you saw, but she gave him puppy-dog eyes every day, so what was new? Diluc, the brooding bachelor bastard of Mondstadt, was the center of many ladies’ attention.

He was the center of yours because your paycheck was in his hands.

Days and weeks went by.

Because you knew Diluc’s secret and nighttime hobby, it wasn’t strange for you and he to grow closer. When he’d come back to the tavern, you arranged a nice meal for him to eat. Heroes needed plenty of food, you figured.

Sometimes, you’d eat with him in agonizing silence.

He made for mediocre company, but when it was late at night and you had nothing to do, he was a fine person to talk to. He kept his distance, preferring to sit a seat away from you at the bar, idly standing when you were sitting at a table. But you never felt alone on those nights.

Diluc came back injured sometimes, and as each night passed, he let you tend to his wounds pathetically before he went to see a doctor. You didn’t know if he was humoring your concern or if he seriously needed your help.

Even without you, he was doing just fine, but little by little, akin to a trickling stream, he began to rely on you. Another person’s trust was a heavy thing to carry, and Diluc’s trust was the weight of the entire world upon your shoulders. You feared that if you ever messed up, Diluc’s trust would be gone in a snap.

Diluc and you shared meals, which was nothing out of the ordinary now, but there was small conversation. Diluc, to your knowledge, never really participated in idle chatter, but he talked with you about the sights he’d seen around Liyue, the hub of business in Teyvat, and you retold jokes your friends had said and rumors about a certain person that were made just to pass time.

You could pull vicarious wonder when Diluc told you of the other nations. You’d venture there yourself, but your skills in the adventuring department were lacking.

You admitted that you were wrong about Diluc; where you had thought him cold and stoic, he was protective and brave. He treasured his work above nearly everything—to the point he overworked. In a way he was somewhat like you. A little different, though. A little stranger. A little better.

Diluc had grand aspirations and was bold personified. You, too, had something to live for, but it wasn’t as great as his. You liked the little things; you liked the dog who wagged his tail whenever you passed in hopes of you giving it a treat; you liked shopping with your friends; you liked reading new books and joking around with Lisa.

You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all, Charles had said then.

“Charles, you’re insane,” you said, pushing Charles’ shoulder. “It’s never going to work. Patton would never agree to putting on the maid dress.”

“And if we bribe him?” Charles asked.

Diluc was standing on the other side of the bar, a brow quirked and a smile lapping at his lips. His arms were crossed, and as much as he tried to seem intimidating, he looked like a friend to you. Before, you would have seen him as judgmental and indifferent, but the Diluc before you was someone who you knew better.

“How much do you think we should give Patton? Maybe we need to sort into bigger pockets.” You peered at Diluc.

Charles said, “What—do you think Master Diluc is willing to put on such a uniform?”

You laughed, and Diluc was looking at you. He didn’t look upset at all. His face was calm, and his pretty cupid’s bow lips were drawn in an amused smile. Oh, he was gorgeous—and upon that thought intruding your headspace, you nearly stopped laughing.

Sometimes Diluc would bring you small trinkets from the winery. You once brought up you wanted an owl statue to put on your balcony to attract other owls (though you were sure that wasn’t how nature worked), and Diluc, sure enough, gave you an owl statue around the size of your torso.

“Master Diluc,” you said. “What is this?”

“An owl statue.”

“Gee, wow! I thought it was a penguin.” You tentatively patted the top of its head. “What’s it for?”

“You,” he said. “I had it laying around the winery.”

It provoked thought in you. What sort of person had an owl statue laying around? You felt the need to give Diluc something back, but what did you have to give him? So that very night, you took him outside of Mondstadt so you could capture a Mist Flower Corolla for your friend.

Typically, you wouldn’t take your employer out on an errand, but you were done with work, so it wasn’t Master Diluc. It was just Diluc. Diluc looked like he wanted to say no to you because he didn’t really devote his time into something so trivial, but you insisted.

“If you needed it that badly,” Diluc said, “you could have asked me. We have plenty near the winery, and I can take care of them easily.”

“It’s not that,” you said, watching an Ice Flower bloom and freeze the water around it. “It’s about the adventure. The message.”

“And what’s this message you speak of?”

“It’s the message of ‘hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.’”

“How… kind of you, [Name].”

You and Diluc spent all night catching enough Mist Flower Corollas for your liking. You wanted a bouquet, and you had a bouquet at the end of the night, at the expense of Diluc’s time and your sleep. You carried the bundle in your hands happily.

Diluc’s fire skills came handy, and it wouldn’t be a lie if you said you brought him along just for it. You liked his personality and his friendship, of course, but his fire skills were a… plus!

On the nights where it was just you and he, Diluc sat nearer to you now. Diluc picked up Charles’ shifts more often and sat across from you whenever you were seated at tables. He sat next to you at the bar, entertaining you out of your boredom.

It wasn’t until one day, Donna of the flower shop was gushing about Diluc, and you felt uneasy. You’d known that Donna was incredibly fond of Diluc, but it never bothered you until now.

Of course, you brought it up to Charles, one of your closest confidants, only third to your bank account and Lisa.

“He likes you back, you know,” Charles said, playing with the tip jar. The coins clinked and clanked in there. “I can tell you that much, [Name].”

“Ewwwwww,” you moaned. “Talking to you about my problems is gross. Where’s Lisa? She’ll tell me the truth for sure. You only want me happy so I can clean the entire tavern for free again. You want me to cover your shift again?”

“Sure I do,” Charles said, “but what I’m saying is true, [Name]. He looks at you all funky.”

“Yeah, because I’m a funky gal.”

“Stop it.”

“Funky, funky, funky.”

“Please.” Charles sighed and set down the tip jar. “It’s like… you and he are weirdly connected. He looks at you a lot. He always looks at you whenever there’s a joke, just to see if you’re laughing, I guess. He must like your laugh. I think it sounds like a horse, personally.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You loved talking to Charles. You loved money. You loved your friends, and you loved your happiness. You loved—no, you liked Diluc. You didn’t know what to do when it came to him. Maybe if you kept away, your affections would find someone else to torment.

Like, for example, that newly hired boy next door that nearly killed his shop’s plants. He was a clumsy sort of cute.

But Diluc was not clumsy. He was meticulous and always got the job done. He took care of himself well, and on days he overworked, you made sure he took some time to rest.

You shook your head. You should stop thinking about Diluc for now and focus.

Yet it was always you and Diluc, and Diluc began to invade your thoughts. You brought up weaving flowers into his long hair, and Diluc always turned you down, saying that there wasn’t enough time for that.

You wished to brush Diluc’s bangs back and lightly kiss his forehead, if he was okay with that. Instead, you said to Diluc, you have a big forehead. No wonder you’re so smart.

Can we go back to the part where you said I had a big forehead? he’d retorted.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later did Diluc come to his shift with Mist Flower Corollas in hand and shyly handed them to you. There was a red hue on his cheeks, and his voice was small, afraid of rejection. His hair was tied back in a neater fashion, and his eyes were cast downward.

Become someone dear to me, he had said.

He wore fine clothes and a nervous expression. It was so out of character for Diluc. You felt as if you were watching a high school boy struggle to express his feelings. However, had Diluc walked into the tavern with a more open chest and chin up, he wouldn’t have been Diluc at all.

You liked Diluc as he was—somewhat closed off but kind enough. Mondstadt’s hero. A knight who donned glimmering red hair and a steel exterior. You wondered if Diluc had to prep himself before coming to you.

“Sorry,” he said although there was nothing to be sorry for, really. “I mean, if you don’t like the flowers—”

Hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.

You took the flowers. “Oh, no, I love it. I really, really do, Master Diluc!”

“Just Diluc.”

“Diluc,” you corrected. “Do I get financial compensation if I become someone dear to you?”

“For starters, I could give you a Mist Flower Corolla every day,” Diluc said, “if that’s enough to satiate you.”

“And then?”

“In the evenings, I’d take you to Cider Lake to watch the starry night while you read those magazines of yours. We don’t need to talk. Just bask in each other’s company, really.”

You tried to fight the smile that was growing on your face. You set down the flowers on the bar counter before saying, “that’s it?”

“I’d let you weave flowers into my hair. I’d take you all over Teyvat, if that’s what you wished as well. I’d take care of you as much as you had taken care of me whenever I’m injured. I’d learn your jokes and get along well with your friends because they seem pleasant.”

You didn’t know Diluc was such a romantic. You dusted Diluc’s shoulder. “I would hold your hand.”

Diluc frowned. “This doesn’t feel very equal to me.”

“You want more?” you quipped. “I’d kiss your forehead. And then I’d read to you. That is, if you like fairy tales… Oh! And then I’d take you up to the mountains where we could see the constellations the best! I love constellations; they’re so pretty.”

“Truthfully,” Diluc admitted, “you don’t have to do anything. I think… I think I’d be satisfied if I just had your company.”

“Would you now? And what about Donna from the flower shop?”

“What about her?”

“Oh, nothing.” You pretended to think about Diluc’s proposal. “I have to say, I think I’m enchanted by your offer, Diluc. I’m going to have to say yes. I will become someone dear to you.”

PART I - PART II - PART III

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc #genshin impact diluc #x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #me speedrunning the ending desperately:

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sdvvillagers · 3 years ago

Text

Fic - Jodi and Gus

Word Count: 1,516

Summary: Jodi never intended to be the unofficial barber in Pelican Town, it just... happened.

Notes: Thank you to @floopthecooper for the prompt!

Jodi was never sure exactly when it was she became Pelican Town’s unofficial barber. It just sort of happened over time. Slowly more residents in town came to her for their haircuts and before she knew it, she was cutting the hair of almost every person in town. Word of mouth spread in a place like Pelican Town. Though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she got the reputation around town as the unofficial barber, she could at least pinpoint exactly when it all began. It had been a cool spring morning, not long after she, Kent, and Sam had moved to Pelican Town. Jodi had always been the one to cut Sam’s hair, it was always so much easier and more affordable to do it herself and it wasn’t all that difficult. She’d never had any formal training, just a few attempts of trial and error, maybe a bad haircut or two for Sam, but she ended up figuring it out along the way.

Whenever possible, Jodi tried to cut Sam’s hair outdoors. It made less of a mess inside the house and was easier to clean up. Jodi had sat Sam down outside, covering his shoulders and back with a towel, before starting up the clippers to give his hair a trim. It was about halfway through the haircut when the local saloon owner, Gus, passed by their house on his way to visit the house nextdoor. Jodi waved politely, though she still didn’t know him all that well. Jodi never found herself visiting the saloon, she always prepared homecooked meals and wasn’t a drinker, so there was just no need. Still, if this was going to be her family’s new home for quite some time, she wanted to be sociable. When she waved, Gus stopped walking and waved in return. The large, welcoming smile on his face seemed genuine and his eyes were soft and kind.

“Hi there, Jenny!” Gus greeted her happily.

“It’s Jodi,” Jodi corrected him with a nervous giggle. Gus slapped the palm of his hand hard against his forehead.

“Sheesh, what a knucklehead,” Gus muttered to himself. “My apologies, Jodi. And this here must be Samson.”

“Yes, though he prefers to go by Sam,” Jodi answered, already smiling and waving her hand dismissively for the apology she knew was going to come. Sure enough, Gus looked mortified.

“Two for two, I’m usually so much better than this,” Gus replied apologetically. “Sorry for the mixup, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“No apologies necessary,” Jodi assured him.

“So I’m sorry to bother you, but uh… I couldn’t help but notice that you’re cutting the little one’s hair,” Gus pointed out, tilting his head curiously. Sam cringed on the spot at being called ‘the little one’.

“Oh, am I not supposed to be doing that outside?” Jodi asked nervously. “I was hoping the breeze wouldn’t blow the hair around, I apologize. I can move this indoors if it’s bothersome.”

“No, not at all!” Gus replied, shaking his head. “I was only asking because… well, I hope this doesn’t come across as odd, but… is that something you do for a living or just for your son?”

“Just for my son,” Jodi answered. “I’ve been cutting his hair since he was about three years old. Cheaper that way.”

“I hear you,” Gus replied, nodding. “Haircuts can be so expensive. Even worse when we have to travel all the way to Grampleton once or twice a season for it. It ends up costing a fortune when you consider the cost of the haircut plus transportation and in the amount of time it takes, you usually need to grab lunch while you’re there. It ends up being a whole day trip just to get half an inch trimmed off my hair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Jodi remarked, feeling a bit guilty. Between cutting Sam’s and Kent’s hair herself, plus trying her best to trim her own, she hadn’t had to take any of her family to get a haircut in quite some time.

“I guess I was just wondering if I could ask you… sheesh, I feel bad even asking, but… would I be able to ask you for a haircut?” Gus asked nervously. “I’ve been putting it off for over a week now and it would be so much easier if I could get it done and over with here.”

“I don’t know,” Jodi answered uncertainly, her eyes darting back and forth to avoid seeing any disappointment in Gus’ face. His kindness and personable nature made it difficult to disappoint him.

“I would pay you a fair rate,” Gus clarified.

“Oh no, it’s not that,” Jodi assured him. “It’s not the money issue, it’s just that I’m not exactly a trained professional. I never went to school for this or anything, I just have what I picked up over the years from trial and error with Sam. I’d be nervous about messing up or not being able to cut it the way you want it to be. I’d never forgive myself if I gave you a bad haircut.”

“I promise you I’m an easy customer,” Gus remarked with a light-hearted chuckle. “I’m not picky at all. I could walk out of here with a bowl cut and still be okay, I just need this hair a bit shorter. Too much hair in my eyes drives me nuts.”

“I really don’t know, I’m not qualified,” Jodi went on, swaying uncertainly on the spot as she mulled it over in her mind. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind if I completely mangled your hair?”

Gus stepped closer to the porch and took a look at Sam’s hair which was halfway through being cut, looked thoughtfully, and nodded. Poor Sam sat awkwardly in the chair, fidgeting as some stranger gawked at him and his hair.

“From what I can tell, I highly doubt you’ll mangle it,” Gus said kindly. “I’m willing to take the risk, but only if you are. I’d never want to pressure you to do it if you’re uncomfortable, though.”

“I’m certainly happy to give it a try,” Jodi replied optimistically. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair besides my son’s and my husband’s. I suppose if it would save you the trouble and you’re willing to live with the results, I’ll give it a try. No charge, though, especially since I’m just winging it.”

“No deal, then,” Gus replied seriously. “I won’t take something for nothing, especially not from a working mother.”

“Oh, I don’t work,” Jodi corrected Gus.

“You don’t?” Gus asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. “You don’t cook? Clean? Organize? Plan? Provide care? Teach? You don’t do any of that?”

“Well that’s diff-” Jodi began, but Gus cut in.

“Moms have the hardest job of all, in my opinion,” Gus went on, smiling warmly at Jodi. “Don’t tell me you don’t work when you’ve got more jobs than any of the rest of us. Yes, I’m paying you for your work.”

It was incredible how warm Jodi felt while Gus spoke, she could feel her cheeks flushing at his comments and it made her feel more validated and understood than she’d felt in quite some time. Too often her role was diminished or looked down upon, it was nice for someone to notice and appreciate her value as a stay at home mom.

“Thank you,” Jodi giggled nervously, turning her head slightly to try and hide her blushing cheeks. “Just let me know when you want that haircut.”

“The saloon opens in two hours, I doubt there’s any chance you can do it before then?”

“I could probably get started in about fifteen minutes,” Jodi estimated. “Just gotta finish with Sam first but I could cut your hair right afterwards. Might as well as long as I’ve got everything out.”

“Perfect, that gives me plenty of time to stop by your nextdoor neighbor’s house for a quick chat,” Gus remarked thoughtfully. “Both of their daughters’ birthdays are in spring, so they called me over to talk about ordering a cake for them.”

“You’re a bartender, chef, and baker?” Jodi asked, nodding at Gus with an impressed grin.

“You’re not the only one juggling a lot of jobs,” Gus replied playfully. “Thanks again for the haircut, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet until after it’s done,” Jodi teased. “See you in a little bit.”

“See you then,” Gus replied, waving to Jodi as he continued on his way down the path to the house nextdoor.

At least that’s how it began, one small favor for the kind bartender in town in his time of need. Yet by the time fall rolled around, Jodi was cutting hair at least three times a week and had never been sure how it snowballed that way. What she hadn’t learned yet, but would learn during her time in Pelican Town, was that everyone in town loved and respected Gus. And when he gushed to a saloon full of patrons about his fantastic haircut from the new woman in town, people listened.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv jodi #sdv gus #sdv villagers #my fic

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