#but it was obviously the right decision for her and while i was sad i didnt regret my decision to come back because she needed some support | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wardenparker · 1 month

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The Stars Re-Align, part 3

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of past drug use, miscommunication, revelations, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Helping Frankie and Luna get set up for the next steps of their life brings them much closer to you and Rachel. And to the possibility of family. Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely comments and tags on this story as we went along! We really love a good One That Got Away story and we're so happy that you all do, too. Please enjoy the final installment! 🧡 As always, the gif is for the vibes, *not* a physical representation of the reader.

Half an hour after the call, when Benny knocks on the door of Fish's apartment, it's Pope who answers the door. "You brought a second army," he observes. There's just a touch of sadness in his smile when his eyes fall on you, but only a touch. In some ways, it just proves he made the right decision that you've dropped everything to come here.

“I was having dinner with them.” Benny shuffles into the apartment and looks around. “What’s going on, man?”

"Everybody come in." If he's surprised to see you, Will doesn't show it.

There's a tall woman at his side doing some very studious typing on her phone and you dimly recall Rachel saying Ben's brother has a long-term girlfriend. What catches your attention and holds it is the figure of Frankie Morales cradling a baby in his arms, and the way it wraps around your heart and twists is terrible. It's jealousy, but you have no right to that particular emotion. Not now or ever.

Settled by the bottle, Luna isn’t crying anymore, but Frankie continues to hold her close. Probably using her as a bit of a crutch himself, he can’t bring himself to put her down, even if she’s fallen back asleep.

The apartment is a mess. Things have been thrown around in a deliberate temper tantrum sort of way and it's clear that some frantic behavior has followed that tantrum, causing a bit more of a mess in the process. "Frankie..." For now you swallow down whatever conflicting emotions you have and walk over to him while the others get settled. "Ben said it was an emergency," you explain, as if you're trying to dignify why you came with Ben and Rachel even though you know that's not strictly necessary. "Are you—is she—okay?"

“You— she’s—” he’s practically speechless that you are here, his gaze darting around the destroyed apartment and he’s embarrassed that you are seeing this. “She’s okay…physically.” He murmurs, bouncing her in his arms slightly and feeling a little off kilter. “Uh— Marie, she, uh, she found Rachel’s phone number in my jacket.” He clears his throat. “She left.”

“She left…like…permanently?” You swallow hard around the implications of that, trying to reconcile what Rachel has told you of this woman with the kind of person that would abandon a child. It’s not the same as what happened with you and Frankie. This, in your opinion, is far worse.

“I think so.” While Frankie had just talked about extricating himself from a relationship with Marie, he had never once considered a situation where she would abandon Luna. He looks down at his daughter, and then his eyes find Rachel’s guiltily. As if he were just as equally horrible.

“What happened?” No sooner does Rachel meet his eyes than she’s crossing the apartment, laying one gentle hand on Luna’s back and very nearly reaching to hug him. She doesn’t know if he would even want that, but the way she almost just added Dad to the end of her sentence makes her own heart break.

He doesn’t want to tell her. Finding it too repulsive to even consider, but he owes her the most truth he can give. “She— she thinks that it was something different.” He tells her quietly. “Like I would cheat, or sleep with Ben’s girlfriend.” He doesn’t even bring up how disgusting it is since she is his daughter. “I tried to tell her that you— that we are—” he curses himself and snorts. “I told her you are my daughter and she didn’t believe me.”

Rachel blows out a long breath and centers herself, hands on her hips just like her father when he’s working something out. “Can I be honest?” Rachel asks, standing between her two parents and shaking her head.

“Always.” It’s not like he expects anything else, but he wants her to be able to share her thoughts and feelings.

“Marie is a cunt, Dad.” Rachel doesn’t beat around the bush, but reaches again to rub Luna’s back. “I’m glad she’s gone, if she really is. Because she’s awful and you two deserve so much better.”

The snickers of the guys showcase their complete agreement with her view and Frankie frowns as he looks down at his sleeping daughter again. “I just— I didn’t expect her to call our daughter a crotch goblin.” He admits quietly. “She was happy she was pregnant. Even if I wasn’t thrilled.” It’s a guilty thought, but he hadn’t been overly joyful at the prospect of having a kid.

“Terrible people say terrible things,” Rachel reasons. She leans forward more this time, waving one friendly finger in her baby sister’s face to make her giggle then places a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “Good riddance. And if she ever says another word against this little angel, I’ll punt her across the Gulf.”

“I— you’re right.” He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the sight of his previously unknown daughter being so sweet to Luna. “I knew she was resentful that I left on a…business trip when Luna was a few weeks old, but I never thought she would take it out on her.”

“Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a good parent,” you reason, with your hands sheepishly stuffed in your pockets. “Just like you can be an amazing parent without ever having children of your own. It’s not clean-cut like that. And it sounds like…like she was not going to be in this for the long run. One way or another.”

His eyes meet yours, sad because it feels like you might be making a pointed statement about him. He just nods and sighs again when Luna kicks, looking down at her and rubbing her stomach as he holds her. “Yeah.”

“I just mean…” He looks so fucking sad that your heart breaks all over again, when you meant to be supporting him. “There are plenty of people in your circle who are going to be ready to help you, Frankie. Just because the woman who gave birth to this little girl turned out to be less-than-ideal doesn’t mean she’ll be alone. We’re all here to help.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He reminds you quietly. “Call it poetic justice.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. Not after what he’s done.

“Don’t be silly.” What happened between the two of you is beside the point, as far as you’re concerned. At least it isn’t relevant right now, so you brush it aside. “It takes a village, right? Well, here we are.”

The differences between you and Marie could not be more evident than at this moment. He swallows harshly and he looks back up at you. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” Santiago’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and most of the group takes that as a signal to congregate, all moving toward the living room sofa en masse. “So we have some things to figure out, but the ball is rolling. Jess is getting in contact with a lawyer for custody papers, the clean up here will take maybe an hour at most, and from there it’s making sure Fish and Luna are taken care of.”

“I— thanks again.” Frankie mutters, looking incredibly embarrassed by all of this. “I appreciate this and Luna does as well.”

“If it was one of us, you’d be right there in the trenches,” Benny reminds him. He sits down on the edge of the couch and puts an arm around Rachel when she comes to sit beside him, grateful for nothing but kindness from both her and you.

“I have some work I can do remotely for a week or two,” you offer, knowing that handling a baby alone can be difficult even under the best conditions. “And…I can cook.” A thing which was never Frankie’s forte as a teenager.

“I guess that’s— I don’t want to come between you and your life.” His eyes slide over to Santiago, burying his own jealousy because it’s not fair.

“I have the time and the skills.” It isn’t meant to be a rude reminder, but just an honest one. You’re the only person here who has raised a baby thus far. “I’ll take a personal day tomorrow and then work from home for a little while. The office won’t mind, since I’m still in the preliminary stages of my next project.”

“If you’re sure…” Frankie can take care of his daughter. That’s never been a problem. He’s not one that complains about getting up during the night or changing dirty diapers. But he is trying to appeal the loss of his license and needs to be able to attend hearings. It was good that he had preemptively went to rehab and could provide clean tests. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I have a work laptop, a deep knowledge of Disney and children’s music, and the ability to cook enough to leave you leftovers.” For the first time, your hand moves to his arm and you give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

"It won't be for long." He promises. "As soon as I can get my license back, I can afford to get a daycare or a sitter service for Luna." He shrugs slightly. "I can fly again." He's not sure what Santiago has told you, but there's no need to hide anything from you.

“Mom has you covered for a little bit, and Benny and I can help,” Rachel assures him. The deep need to connect to her little sister and be there for her father is strong and already growing.

“And Jess and I will fill in the blanks,” Will promises. Luna will never be without a second set of eyes, Fish. You’ll be able to make your appointments and do everything you need to do.”

Frankie blows out a sigh and he looks around. "Should I move?" He asks quietly. "In case she comes back? Or stay here and if she does come back, we address it then?"

“Move in with us.” Rachel blurts out, unapologetic in her honesty and immediately stubborn on the point as soon as the thought occurs to her. “We have the space, and Marie wouldn’t know how to find you.”

Frankie's eyes widen at the offer and his heart leaps at the idea but his gaze darts over to you. "Rachel, sweetheart...I couldn't possibly do that." He shakes his head when your own shocked face mirrors his. You don't want that and he won't make your life harder.

“Guys, will you give us a minute?” This is not a conversation that you want spectators for, and it only takes a second of hesitation for Will and Jess to stand.

“Let’s start picking up.” Will suggests, casting meaningful looks at Santiago and Benny. This isn’t their conversation. Especially not Pope’s anymore.

Frankie shuffles slightly, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't have to hear the scolding that Rachel was in for. He knows that she only has good intentions, but it's not the same as offering up a place to live for him and a child he fathered by another woman.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” You ask Frankie, wanting an honest answer rather than the one he feels he ought to give. Men have a hard time speaking up in abusive situations for a hell of a lot of reasons and you’re not about to add to his stress. “Like if Marie came back, she might hurt you or the baby?”

"She wouldn't hurt me." Frankie assures you. "But...I don't— I might hurt her." He admits softly. "If she tries to hurt Luna. I'll talk to the property management. Have the locks changed."

“Is there any possibility she would actually try to hurt Luna?” This sweet little baby did nothing wrong, and the part of you that missed out on getting to see Frankie hold your little girl is both savoring and jealous of this moment of his protection.

"If she's high?" Frankie wouldn't want to believe it, but he can't be sure. "I don't know. She's angry at me and she knows that I would die for Luna."

“If she’s—” That is going to have to be a conversation for another time, but you nod your head once and look at Rachel. Your steadfast, loyal-to-a-fault daughter is looking at you so expectantly that you can’t even hold her gaze, and end up looking back at Frankie. “We have a guest room and a safe neighborhood. Our HOA is a pain in the ass but if they know a vehicle isn’t supposed to be in the neighborhood they will have a tow truck in the street before she even gets out of her car.”

"Gatita..." he closes his eyes and relaxes slightly when he feels Rachel take the baby from him. Opening his eyes again, he knows that it's the right choice. "We won't be there long." He promises after a moment.

"You'll be there for as long as you need to be." Will it be awkward, maneuvering around each other? Sure. But this isn't about your comfort level. This is about his safety and the safety of his baby.

******

Your home is surprisingly easy to settle into, but Frankie tries to give you and Rachel space. Finding some of the run ins a little awkward in that ‘navigating new roommates’ waters. Right now though, it’s three in the morning and Luna has woken up hungry. Leaving a sleepy-eyed Dad to shuffle into the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants and a little girl bouncing against his bare shoulder as he mixes up a bottle.

There’s a light on in the kitchen when you come down the stairs, bleary-eyed and dealing with a stupid amount of heartburn from that second helping of chili you shouldn’t have had at dinner. You can hear him before you see him — the gentle shushing of a parent soothing an infant — and you knock gently on the archway to the kitchen before stepping inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” you murmur quietly, not wanting to scare Luna.

“Hey, sorry.” Frankie winces slightly, sure that he’s woken you up. “Baby girl needed a bottle. We’ll be settled down and quiet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” When you move toward the fridge too, you almost laugh at the irony. “I came down for milk, too. Heartburn is a bitch.”

He winces sympathetically and nods. “Remember when we were young? Heartburn was something our parents made up.” He snorts, aware that he’s had to change his diet as he’s gotten older.

“I’d give anything to be able to eat the way we did back then.” The carton of milk comes out onto the counter and so does a glass, but you’re self-conscious of giving Frankie enough space so you stay tucked in the corner. “Can I ask…” You shift slightly in place. “How are you adjusting?”

“Day to day, at night, it’s not a lot of difference.” Frankie admits. You have helped him tremendously during the day, but he insists on taking care of Luna himself when he gets back. “I always took care of the baby when I got home.” He tells you. “She needed a break and I didn’t mind.”

“Is there anything you need picked up? Changed?” It’s not your place to remark on his ex-girlfriend’s parenting, or seeming lack thereof, but you have noticed that the only people who contact him are his lawyer and his friends. The guys have been quite active actually, either helping him move the last of his things from the apartment into storage, helping with Luna, or helping him get things organized for his hearings.

“I don’t think so.” He is so grateful to you for everything. “I am planning on cutting the grass tomorrow.” He tells you. “So don’t worry about that.”

“I’m assuming it won’t make a difference if I tell you that you don’t need to do chores?” The Frankie of your past was a stubborn guy, and a nostalgic smile curls your lips.

“No.” Frankie frowns and looks over at you with dark eyes. “You are letting me stay, watching my child and you won’t take my money.” He huffs, slightly offended at the handout. “I can help around here.”

“Just don’t overextend yourself. Your appointments are more important than the lawn.” It’s nice that he wants to help, and you’re not going to stop him, but you don’t want Frankie to get himself behind because he gets obsessed with helping.

“I know.” Frankie nods. “I don’t have an appointment tomorrow. And the lawyers said that it looks promising.” He tells you.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your own glass of milk is cold and soothing, and you pour a second for good measure. “I was planning on working from home again tomorrow. I hope that won’t bother you too much.”

“Gatita, this is your house.” Frankie reminds you. “You are free to do whatever you want.” He snorts. “If you wanted to walk around naked, I would just have to try to not stare.” He’s tired and he’s been dreaming about you after spending so much time with you. He didn’t mean to say that, but it popped out.

The burning in your cheeks is immediate, that combination of embarrassment and rekindled desire making you quickly look away so he won’t see how much you love hearing him call you Gatita again, or how much you actually want him to mean it when he says things like that to you. It had been deep in your head that the love you still have for Frankie would bubble to the surface with him in your house, but you didn’t know quite how bad it was going to be. “Well…I would say you’ve always been a gentleman, but we were teenagers together. The parts of us that are good at restraint now didn’t really exist back then.”

“No need to be a gentleman when I had you.” Frankie murmurs softly, twisting the cap back on the bottle and shaking it up as Luna grunts against his shoulder. She’s not crying right now, but she will be if she doesn’t get her bottle. “Only had to restrain myself around our parents.”

“Something neither of us was terribly good at,” you admit with a snort. “At least they never actually caught us having sex. That would have been mortifying.”

“Dad did.” Frankie admits, sending you a sheepish grin. “Senior year. He opened the door slightly and immediately closed it. I saw him in the mirror.”

“Oh my god.” You almost drop your glass, fumbling to get it on the counter with little enough noise to not agitate the baby and stifle your laughter at the same time. “Seriously? I am so glad you never told me that.”

He laughs quietly and nods. “We had sworn to never speak of it. And I hadn’t, until now.”

“I never would have been able to look him in the eye again.” Unfortunately, Frankie’s father had passed years ago — your own parents had sent you the obituary. “I sent flowers to the funeral home when he passed,” you admit quietly. “No card or anything, but…it was too little too late. I know that.”

Frankie closes his eyes and sighs softly. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “He loved you and he told me that I was the biggest goddamn fool for breaking up with you.”

“We were kids.” It’s not a good reason but it’s still a reason, and you’re not willing to rehash your breakup at 3am over milk with his infant.

“Yeah.” He can see that you are building walls against the conversation. He turns Luna over and pops the bottle into her mouth. “Well…I better let you get back to bed.” He murmurs. “Goodnight.”

“I—” The feeling of being dismissed from your own kitchen is uncomfortable at best, and you frown before setting your glass in the dishwasher and simply stepping away. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight.”

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave and he hates how it seems like you’ve taken three steps back. Sighing softly, he looks down at Luna staring up at him. “What?” He asks her softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

******

By the next morning, you’ve resolved to apologize. Being short with him was unnecessary and doesn’t exactly make things easier for anyone. Not to mention, Frankie is having a hard enough time as it is without you getting mopey that he hasn’t just sat down beside you on the couch and snuggled you into his side like you want him to.

Getting up early, you head back downstairs and start making up a big pan of French toast and another whole tray of bacon. Sure there’s only three of you, but baking breakfast will give you time to make some fresh baby food for Luna, something you had loved doing for Rachel as well.

Frankie wakes up to the sounds of stirring in the kitchen. Groaning quietly at the aches and pains of his older self. Getting older sucks and it’s compounded by the abuse he put his body through when he was in the Army. Glancing at the clock, he sighs and sits up, grabbing his shirt. He will need to get started on the lawn before Luna wakes up.

The coffee pot has just finished bubbling when he gets downstairs, the rich, black brew piping hot and mixing with the other smells in the kitchen to be nothing short of enticing. Coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, bacon, and apples all mix together in the early morning like a welcoming curtain of comfort.

“Smells good.” Frankie shoves his hat on his head. “Baby’s still asleep. Thought I would get started on the grass.”

"Okay." Even though you nod, you gesture slightly at the baby monitor in his hand. "Do you want to leave that with me? I can get her changed and fed while breakfast cooks. She's got fresh apple and sweet potato puree for this morning."

“You’re too good to us—her.” Frankie huffs, shooting you a small smile. “After I get done, I’ll take her right back. I promise.”

"Frankie..." Your palms sweat and you hate yourself for being so affected by him still, but here you are. So deeply affected that you feel like you're fifteen all over again. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Frankie shakes his head. “I was…out of line.”

"I shouldn't have been dismissive, or snapped at you. It's not out of line to want to talk about our past." Exhaling softly, you lean back against the counter and bite your bottom lip as you debate how much is really wise to say. "It's just bringing up a lot of old emotions and I wasn't prepared to work through them thoroughly at three in the morning."

“Yeah,” Frankie shuffles slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He hums quietly. “I know that it’s hard. I should have just kept quiet.”

"No." You shake your head and take a step back toward him instead of shrinking away again. "No, that's...keeping quiet and hiding things from each other is how I got us into this mess. I don't want to perpetuate that anymore."

Frankie sighs. “No, me being a fucking asshole is what got us into the mess of you raising a kid by yourself.” He tells you.

"I should have just told you." Twenty-four years of hindsight is twenty-twenty. "If I hadn't been so scared, it would have worked out eventually."

“And I should have come back.” Frankie snorts. “I should have found you. Begged you to take me back.” He puts his hands on his hips. “There’s a million things I shouldn’t have done, or should have.”

"I should have figured out how to write to you at boot camp. Or found your parents after they moved. Anything." Your arms cross over your chest in some kind of unconscious half-mirroring of him, but you end up swallowing a sigh. "Rachel does that, you know. Her hands on her hips, like you do. There's so much of you in her and I'm so sorry that you missed some of it."

Those words make him close his eyes. Absorbing them and trying not to let them hurt as bad as they do. “I just don’t want to miss any more.”

"I don't want you to, either." It's a small admission. Also too little, too late. But at least it's honest. "And neither does she."

“I know you don’t – this isn’t ideal.” Frankie admits. “You don’t really want me here. And I just don’t want to overstep.”

"Why do you think I don't want you here?" Can you guess at plenty of reasons? Of course. But you're curious to know why he assumes you would have invited him into your home if you didn't want him here at all.

“Who wants their ex in their house?” Frankie snorts. “I’ve cost you your relationship, made you a babysitter and make you uncomfortable by bringing up a past I can’t forget.” He practically whispers the last part, almost ashamed of it.

Something about the whole scenario just makes you crack in your chest and you almost cave in on yourself, letting the words out before you can stop yourself. Six simple words, but with so much meaning. "I don't care. I miss you."

Frankie bites his lip, curling his hands into his hips to keep from reaching for you. “You miss who I was.” He reminds you. “I’ve become a very different one.”

"So have I." You weren't expecting rejection to sting as much as it does, even though you don't even know that you actually offered enough for him to reject. It still makes you want to cry, though, in a very vulnerable and surprised sort of way. "That doesn't mean we aren't still who we are at the core."

“I’ve…done things.” Frankie admits. “Bad things. Things that would make you curl away from me in disgust.”

"Nobody's pure." But you shuffle a little where you're standing and look up again, actually looking him in the eyes. "Santiago told me about South America. Everything. So I'm not as much of a wilting flower as you might think."

“Never said you were.” He knows you are strong, capable. You raised Rachel by yourself and all the struggles that it entailed.

"I'm not trying to force anything." Though if it happened, you would absolutely not be opposed to it. You've realized that in the three days since Frankie and Luna moved into your house. "I'm just saying, if I didn't want you here, or I didn't want to know who you are now...then you wouldn't be here at all. I just wouldn't have offered, regardless of anything Rachel said."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have offered.” Frankie snorts. “Fuck knows you wouldn’t have if you know what I think about around you.” He’s just determined to beat himself up, still depressed and trying to self-sabotage without the use of coke.

That just makes you scoff, shoving your hands in your pockets weakly because what you really want to do is cross the kitchen tiles and just throw your arms around him like you always used to. "I fully expect you to hate me. I'm not going to make you leave my house just because you rightfully dislike your ex for keeping your daughter from you."

He stares at you for a moment before he laughs. “You think I hate you?” He demands roughly. “Hate doesn’t have me dreaming about seeing if I could beat the goddamn record I set when we were seventeen.” He hisses. “Hate doesn’t have me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock because you still smell the same and those sheets smell like you. Hate isn’t something I want to do to you, gatita.”

For about three full seconds, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It's like your mind had shut down trying to comprehend what he is saying to you and is only slowly booting back up like an ancient computer. A small squeak escapes you and all the air goes out of your chest just before water pricks at your eyes, and all of a sudden you're moving straight across the kitchen to kiss him before you can even process what you're doing.

Frankie had fully expected a hand across his cheek, so when you launch yourself at him, he’s shocked. Groaning against your lips for a split second before he’s wrapping his arms around you, one hand cradling your head to keep you close. To keep you kissing him.

He's thicker than he was as a gangly teenager. Age has given him muscles and then softened them again, making him pliant under your touch just as much as you are under his. The powerful magnet of attraction between you leaves no room for questioning in the moment. You're just two people clinging desperately to each other and to hope, and the first slide of your tongue against his when your lips part to deepen the kiss is like coming home. A very specific, very teenage home – but this is still where your heart lives.

Frankie groans, finding it to be his turn to move. Turning and pressing you against the counter as he drowns in this kiss. It feels so right, despite the mistakes that he has made, the sins he has committed, he tastes nothing but the overwhelming sense of rightness in your lips.

He had dipped down to find the perfect angle to capture your soft moan when it crossed your lips, but now Frankie straightens again. Breaking your head so it won’t hit the cabinets, his other hand pulls you close at the waist — expanded, soft from carrying and birthing a baby and simply being alive for more than forty years — as your hands wander his body to recommit every plane of him to memory. There’s a beautiful rosy nostalgia over the kiss even with the nearly feral need each of you feels, and something drastic might have happened if not for the soft cry of surprise that emanates from the half-light of the living room.

Pulling back in surprise, Frankie’s eyes widen when he sees Rachel standing there. “Uh, I—” he glances at you, unsure of what to say at this point.

“Rach, why don’t you go check on your sister?” You suggest, feeling the reason that Frankie might need a couple of minutes to calm down throb and jump against your hip. Not that your restraint is much better. You’re going to need to change your panties just from being kissed.

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” She nods dramatically, whirling around. “Then I—I’m going to go over to Ben’s. All day. I’ll text when I come back.”

“Breakfast in five minutes!” You call after her, not sure if she’s actually heard you or not as her footsteps ascend the stairs all over again. She’s gone again in a flash and you bite your lip when your eyes track back to Frankie, no guilt or embarrassment in your expression, only a little bit of sheepishness at being caught.

“Well, I think that embarrassed her.” Frankie comments as he looks over to you. He doesn’t know exactly what you are thinking, but it’s not regret on your face. That makes a ghost of a smile curl up the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let her fool you.” The warmth in your cheeks is only matched by the warmth in the rest of you, waves of it crawling under your skin with how close he is. “She thinks I don’t know that she’s wanted her parents back together since she was five years old.”

“She didn’t know me.” Frankie frowns slightly and hopes this isn’t just some kind of wish fulfillment.

“I used to tell her more.” You admit, though you’re not sure if that’s good or bad. It’s selfish, but it was also survival. “I stopped when she got old enough to realize that…” Blowing out a breath, your eyes drop down from his. He probably does not want to hear this, despite kissing you back just now. “That I’ve still always had feelings for you.”

“You— you still wanted to be with me?” He’s surprised that you would, given how he had left. “Baby….its— I’ve always regretted leaving you. I called you.” He reveals. “Several times….but I never could say anything.”

“You called?” Your eyebrows raise back all the way up your forehead, eyes watery with hopeful tears that you refuse to shed and ruin the moment. “Oh no…” A gasp leaves you, almost washing out the sounds of Rachel and Luna cooing and giggling at each other over the baby monitor. “You called…in the two years after you left for the Army?”

“Yeah.” Frankie chokes out, looking away and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fucking say a word when he had called your house. “After I got out of bootcamp. I would fucking dial your number at least twice a week. Every time, someone would pick up and I couldn’t say a word. Didn’t have the words I wanted to say.”

“And then…after a while…the number stopped working?” You guess, biting back a sigh of regret.

“Yeah.” He frowns and tilts his head. “How did you—”

“Because my parents got their phone number changed after we had so many hangups in such a short amount of time,” you explain, now feeling guilty for what had happened. “They thought it was some criminal or stalker or something. We moved about a year later anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, closing his eyes and berating himself for his fucking stupidity. “I just— I choked every time I tried to ask for you. In fucking Delta training and I couldn’t fucking apologize.”

“No use in being upset about it now…” Those days are twenty years past. A lifetime ago and then some. And you’re stuck in the here and now with your hand still flexing at his hip. “We should…talk, though. Rach is going to have a million questions.”

“Of course.” He nods and slides his hands over his lounging pants. “What— you start.”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You tell yourself sternly, eyes flickering down to where his large hands stretch dangerously to other, equally interesting parts of him. “We both just…we were seeing other people. Until literally a few days ago.” If you don’t remind yourselves of that you feel like you’ll burst. “But…I miss you. And I do still have feelings for you. And…and if you’re open to it, when you’re ready, I think finding out how we could be together as adults is— well, it’s a long time coming, would you say?”

That….is not what he expected you to say. He had expected to hear something about taking it slow or perhaps it should be kept quiet, but not that. “I’ve never stopped having feelings for you.” Frankie promises you softly. “And I— I’ve missed you every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to push you for anything. Not quickly, not ever.” Whatever he wants to have with you, you want it to be freely given just like you intend to give freely. “I kind of…really love seeing you in my house like this…”

He looks down at his clothes, like that might explain what you are talking about. “Rumpled?” He jokes quietly.

“That’s one word for it,” You admit, grinning softly. “I was thinking sexy, though.”

“If tired, ex-military dad is sexy, I guess I’m it.” Frankie smirks.

“It is.” You can’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely.”

He steps closer to you again. “Well, do you want to drool over this tired dad mowing the grass?” He teases. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

“Eat breakfast with us first.” That is something you’ll insist on, especially since the timer is about to go off on the oven in about twenty seconds. “And then I’ll sit and gawk at the dining room table afterward.”

Frankie snorts but agrees with a nod. “It smells amazing. You are a great cook.”

“You always liked breakfast, so I took a shot that you would like Rachel’s favorite baked French toast.” You’re going to need to open the oven in just a few seconds, but the last thing you want to do is pull away from the heat of him. “I swear I can do more than just casseroles now.”

He chuckles quietly. “Better than me. Although I need to learn. Luna deserves to have a parent who can feed her more than frozen dinners.” You also deserve to have some of the burden lifted off of you, but that’s another conversation.

“I’ll teach you if you want?” There were a couple of family recipes his mother taught you when you were teenagers that Rachel loves, and plenty of other things of course. But when the timer goes off and you’re forced to step away reluctantly, you add: “And I bet Rachel would, too. She’s pretty damn good in her own right. It might be something you can do together.”

“Maybe we can all do it?” Frankie asks hopefully. Wanting to spend time with both of you. “Between the two of you, I might have a fighting chance.”

“Absolutely.” You’re about willing to promise him anything he wants right now, but first it’s just about taking the pans out of the oven and stifling the need to steal one more kiss when you hear Rachel descend the stairs with a happily babbling Luna in her arms.

“Good.” Frankie makes sure you aren’t holding a pan when he swoops in again. Planting a quick, hard kiss on your lips. “Later.” He whispers, much like he had promised so many years ago when you were about to be interrupted.

It’s good that the girls make plenty of noise coming downstairs so no one else can hear the more-than-slightly-pitiful whimper that Frankie pulls out of you, but you snap back into reality well enough to clamp your mouth shut and motion for him to grab plates from the cupboard without imploding.

“Everyone decent?” Rachel calls out before her head pokes around the door. “There’s a small child present!”

“We were never not decent,” you point out, waving your daughter into the room. “Do you want to get your sister’s cup of food or help your dad set the table?” It’s possibly the most domestic sentence you’ve said…maybe ever, and it rolls through you like summer sunrise.

“Whatever you need me to do.” Her grin is wide and proudly embarrassed as she eyes both of you. “Soooooooooooo. Mom.” She tilts her head towards you with a glint in her eyes. “Do we need to have the safe sex talk, young lady?”

“Your very existence is proof that it’s too late for that,” you remind her, but a smirk forms in the corner of your mouth either way. “Let’s all sit down to eat and we can talk a little. Okay?”

“Seriously though.” Rachel turns towards her dad. “You hurt my mom, and I’ll sic Ben on you.” She warns playfully.

“Sweet pea, get your sister settled and we’ll all talk,” you insist, biting your lip a little at the idea of anything going wrong again. You don’t like it and you don’t even want to process it right now.

“Okay.” It’s more you using ‘sweet pea’ instead of anything else that makes her nod and move to get Luna settled in her high chair. You are upset about something, or avoiding it and she wonders what it is.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone settled and served, but you manage it pretty well and Frankie gets Luna fed before digging in for himself.

“So….” Frankie takes a bite, groaning and rolling his eyes happily at the taste of the casserole. “This is good.” He moans. “Like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.” He might have been about to start this talk, but now he’s distracted by the breakfast.

"Iknowright?" Rachel mumbles all at once, thrilled to see her favorite breakfast materialize on the table without asking for it.

“So good.” He forks up another bite before reaching for the syrup again to add more to the French toast bake.

"At least I know I can subdue you both with French toast if you get out of hand," you tease, looking between father and daughter at the table and snorting a laugh.

Both of them look up at you at the same time, forks halfway to their mouths, with the exact same disgruntled expression on their faces.

"Goddamn I wish you could see yourselves right now." It isn't that you didn't know Rachel was like her father. You had known that for her whole life. But seeing them side by side throws it into sharp relief. "Look at these two," you coo to Luna, reaching over to tickle the baby's soft and chubby belly in that way that makes her giggle. "They're exactly the same, aren't they sweetheart?"

It’s fucking amazing, how you are with Luna. Frankie had always felt like Marie wasn’t as maternal or soft as he thought she should be, but then immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. He’s just happy that you are obviously thrilled to have a baby in the house. “We have some similar traits?” He asks, looking over at Rachel.

"Apparently a lot." Rachel shrugs, not knowing she does it in the same way as her father and always has. "According to Mom, Ben should have picked up a vibe really fast."

"I think it just made him subconsciously more comfortable with you," you clarify, forking up another bite of your own breakfast. "Which is a good thing. I'm not saying he should have been confused by it or anything."

Frankie chuckles lightly and reaches over to pick up another spoonful of the puréed apples and sweet potato to feed to Luna. “He would have just thought you were weird.” He jokes.

"To be fair, he does think I'm weird," Rachel clarifies. Her coffee is getting low and she stretches to grab the pot for a refill. "But he likes that about me."

He snorts and nods, holding up his cup when she offers to refresh his. “Ben’s weird himself, so that checks out.”

"Weird is better." You've always thought so. Even used to say so when you were younger. "It's more interesting."

“You used to say I was your perfect kind of weird.” Frankie blurts out, remembering when you would lovingly coo it to him. He would always roll his eyes, but he enjoyed it.

"You were." The reminder – the fact that he even remembers you saying that – warms through you and your face burns bashfully. "Probably still are, if we're honest."

“I think that makes you even weirder.” Frankie snorts, shooting you a playful look. “Because….look at me.”

"I'm not exactly the world's most exciting person, Frankie." You aim a shrug in his direction, doctoring your refilled mug of coffee. "It took me a long time, but for the most part I'm happy with where I am in life. That doesn't make me too interesting, though."

“No, nothing is interesting about a strong, beautiful, capable woman who has raised an equally beautiful daughter by herself, made a comfortable life for her and still maintained the sweetness of youth.” Frankie narrows his eyes slightly, hating how you put yourself down.

"And she has a super fucking cool job, too." Rachel pipes up, obviously ready to back her father up on this one. "Working for the Mouse means we get to go to the parks for free. Luna's going to love it just like I did."

“Just because you went, doesn’t mean Luna will get tickets too, sweetheart.” Frankie reminds her.

“Of course we’ll go.” The idea that Frankie doesn’t think you’d treat his baby daughter well hits you somewhere deep in your chest and you work not to frown. “Unless you don’t want to go? Then we’ll just have a girl’s day.”

“It’s not—” he’s offended you, something that he wasn’t trying to do and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. I just— I never assume anything.” He tells you. “Just because you have tickets doesn’t mean you owe them us, that’s all.”

“It isn’t that I owe it to you.” Reaching across the space at the table in front of Luna’s highchair, you squeeze his hand gently. “But Rach is right, even if she didn’t exactly mean to point it out. We’re a family.”

Frankie looks over at Luna and smiles softly, the baby is shoving her fingers in her mouth and cooing happily. “You ever want more kids?” He asks.

"All the time." You don't mind answering that honestly, but you shrug your shoulders and pick up a piece of bacon from your plate. "I don't relish being referred to as a geriatric pregnancy, though."

“You aren’t geriatric.” Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “Hell— I mean…I thought this was my first go round, but I missed the first.” He hates it, but he reaches over and takes Rachel’s hand with his other. Holding both of your hands.

"Geriatric pregnancies are anyone giving birth over the age of thirty-five." Rachel clarifies for her father, fully putting aside her fork to hold his hand with both of hers. "Mom just doesn't want to feel old. Even though she says I'm the thing that made her old." The last thought comes with a teasing grin thrown your way.

��Hell, I feel ancient knowing I have a grown ass daughter.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “I know she feels the same way, considering she had to carry you.”

Your own half-laugh sounds when you swing your head over to look at him. "You make big babies, Morales."

He chuckles and shrugs slightly. “That might be why Marie was never happy after Luna.” He jokes. “She was nearly eleven pounds, believe it or not.”

Rachel snorts, forkful of food halfway to her mouth, and grins. "Twins. I was eleven pounds, too. Eleven pounds and...twenty inches?" She looks to you when she can't remember.

"Twenty-one." It probably shouldn't, but it makes you laugh at this point. The horror over how big she was at birth is long over with. "The nurse asked me if the father was a giant."

“Definitely not a giant.” Frankie huffs, knowing that he’s shorter and weighs less than Rachel’s boyfriend. But he can still kick his ass.

"To answer your question..." The three of you go back to eating, finishing up your plates with satisfaction. "I absolutely think about having more kids all the time. That's why I love babysitting so much."

“Yeah….” It’s definitely helped him. He had spent so much time worrying about his home life that he couldn’t properly square things away. He owes you a lot. “You’re great with her.”

"If I ever overstep, you just need to tell me." It's been a lot of years since you took care of your own infant. Parenting advice has definitely changed. And as much as you might dream about having another kid, Luna is not your baby. She's Frankie's and that means he has the last word on decisions for her.

“I doubt you could overstep.” He argues but he nods when you just stare at him. “But I will let you know.”

"So..." When the last bite is off her plate, Rachel sits back in her chair with her coffee mug in both hands. "I'm going to go to Ben's..." she repeats her thought from earlier with both eyebrows raised. "All day. Probably for two days...you guys...gonna do anything special?"

Frankie cuts his eyes over to Rachel, knowing exactly what she’s going to be doing thanks to Ben’s fat fucking mouth before he knew she was his daughter. “Talking.” He grunts. “Cutting the grass. Cleaning my guns.”

"Dad..." Since she broke the ice on using that title, Rachel has embraced it. "No guns on Ben."

“No promises.” Frankie huffs. “Fucker deserves it.” He shrugs his shoulders when she squawks at him. “What? I won’t hit anything vital!”

"Sorry, Rach." You snicker softly, under your breath. "This is part of having a Dad."

“I don’t think I like this part.” Rachel rolls her eyes playfully and Frankie rolls his right back.

“Yeah, will I don’t like knowing how my daughter gives a blowjob. So we’re even.”

"Okey dokey." Instantly shooting up from the table, you focus entirely on picking up Luna without looking at Rachel or Frankie. "Gonna take the baby into the living room. I'll clean up later."

“Sorry.” Frankie apologizes as you whisk out of the room like your pants are on fire. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

"She'll get over it." Rachel does smile though, a small and embarrassed expression on her face. "Ben feels like an asshole for talking the way he did, for the record. He apologized to me, too. Even though I don't really care."

“We’ve all talked that way before.” Frankie can admit that. The only reason it became a problem is because of who she is to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care. “But it’s good he apologized. He really loves you.”

"And I really love him." She promises, absolutely serious. "As his friend, I hope you know that."

“Even as your dad.” It’s a title that always makes him smile when either one of them uses it. “I want you to be with someone who loves you. That’s all I want. He’s a good man.”

"I know it's new..." she sips her coffee as they sit together. "But do you mind that I've started using that name?"

“No.” That’s something he would never mind. “Not at all, I’m….glad you feel comfortable calling me ‘Dad’.” He admits with a small smile. “Just hope that one day that you’re proud that I am your dad.”

"I am proud." Even when he was just her boyfriend's friend, she had always liked Frankie a lot. He's a good guy who doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. "I'm proud of Mom and I'm proud of you, too."

“That…that’s great.” He nods, enjoying the conversation and feeling proud of the fact that she is happy to know him.

"I'm going to clean up and go to Ben's." Pushing back from the table and standing, Rachel puts one hand out to squeeze his shoulder and starts to pick up dishes and stack them in her arms. "Whatever you and Mom end up talking about...just know how much she loves you. My whole life she's never looked at another guy the way she looks at you. I know you mean the world to her."

“You have no reason to really believe me, because of me being gone from your life the entire time you were growing up, but I don’t want to hurt her. Ever again.” Frankie promises. “I think we deserve to be happy.”

"I think so, too." Rachel agrees, but instead of letting the moment get too serious, she throws her father a grin and nods toward the backyard. "So go mow the lawn so she can have a good ogle. I'll clean up from breakfast before I go."

Frankie snorts, aware that her knowledge of that meant she had been eavesdropping, but he doesn’t mind it. “Thanks,” he tosses her his own grin and pushes back from the table to at least clear his plate. “Plus, it’ll be good for her not to have to do the grass.”

******

“I don’t think you will be less than a mama to her.” He hums as he transfers the baby into your arms. “She will only know you as her mother, especially the way you already love her.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on staying.” And while it’s just an observation, your heart leaps up into your throat so you have to swallow it back done just to breathe.

“If that’s what we decide.” He won’t push his way in. Luna yawns and leans her head against your shoulder in a move that makes him smile. “We can talk about it later. She’s sleepy and I need a shower.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap. You go clean up, love.” Honestly? You dread the thought of Frankie leaving again. Even having him leave to go to work will have you in a state of anxiety for a while, even if you’re doing your best to hold it together for the girls’ sakes. Luna needs a steady caregiver and Rachel absolutely does not need to see you anxious or worrying over her father.

“Come talk to me after you get her down?” He asks, knowing it won’t take him long to shower. He would probably be dressed by the time you get her down.

“Absolutely.” Not having to talk over the baby’s head is a good place to start, if nothing else. You lean in when he moves to kiss your cheek again and then part, with Frankie heading to the bathroom and you heading into what is now Luna’s nursery.

Frankie has been trained by the military. He was never an untidy person to start, but an entire career in the Army had taught him how to clean and be efficient in showering. He does take a little more time today, trimming his beard and shaving, wanting to clean up a little more for you.

As predicted, by the time you get Luna settled down for her nap, you hear the shower shut off down the hall. A small stop off in your own room might just be to check your hair and that you haven’t had a bit of bacon stuck in your teeth all morning. Once you’ve decided he’s had enough time to dress and you can’t stall anymore, you grab the baby monitor and go down the hall to knock on his door.

Because of the shaving, Frankie is still wrapped in a towel, secured at his waist. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. “Come in.”

"Luna's down for her uh— her, her nap," you report, only barely stammering when you see Frankie standing by the bed and sighing inwardly at the way your mouth runs dry.

“Good.” He doesn’t smirk, although he wants to. You alternate between staring and looking away in embarrassment.

"It's gonna be hard to talk if I can't look you in the eye." Which is stupid, because it's not like he wasn't the first person in the world you were naked with – but here you are flustered like a teenager all over again.

“Does it bother you?” Frankie asks, looking down. “That I’m not dressed? You knocked on my door.”

"It doesn't bother me." But you do feel the need to clarify, for the sake of the situation. "It's just very distracting."

“Distracting, huh?” Frankie was never more confident than he was with you and since being here, that has started to come back. “Wonder why that is.”

"Because you're handsome, Francisco," you huff, fully amused, and roll your eyes at him for effect.

“And you’re gorgeous, gatita.” He murmurs.

"We should probably have that talk." Instinctively, shutting the door comes with stepping inside, even though it isn't necessary. Maybe it's a leftover reflex from seeking privacy in the apartments where you grew up.

“Okay.” Frankie moves over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats to slide on under the towel so you won’t be uncomfortable.

"You want to go first?" The only place in the room to sit is on the guest bed, and you perch on the end with your hands under your thighs and nerves jittering out of control.

“You look like you need get things off your chest.” Frankie hums. “You can go first.”

"I'm just...trying to think about what comes next." Your fingers twist in the blanket, making you look even more nervous than you feel. "I make plenty enough to support this family while you get things cleared up with your license. This is a stable home for Luna with actual family to help look after her. "If what you want is to be back together, we're in a very good position to make it work."

“I have my retirement.” Frankie reminds you. “I don’t expect you to support us. I want to take care of you too.” He never wants to take advantage of you. He wants to give you more than he ever takes.

"Do you actually still enjoy flying? Is it something you want to get back to? Or is it what you were doing because you were made to?" It's a fair question, and one you don't ask easily. But you get the feeling that before this, Frankie didn't get a lot of options.

“I love it.” Frankie admits. “I’m fucking good at it, completely in love with it. Why?”

"I wasn't sure if Marie had given you a chance to actually choose what you love to do, instead of just what would make money," you admit. "I was going to offer that you could take your time. Pursue whatever you wanted to, or even be a stay at home Dad for a while if that's something that interests you. I just..." One hand sneaks out from under your thigh and reaches for him as you sit on the bed. "I want you to be happy, baby. Truly happy."

“I—” Frankie’s never thought about being a stay at home dad. “I volunteered for flight school. Being in the air, flying, it’s like second nature to me now.” He tells you, kneeling down in front of you. “But…I wouldn’t mind staying home with Luna.” He admits. “I would be happy with that for a bit. I could fly part time. Spend most of it with her, still get my thrills from flying.”

"I don't want you to do what you feel you have to." That point can't have enough emphasis for you. It really is the backbone of everything you want for his future – that it is a future he chooses for himself out of passion and excitement. "If flying is what you want to do, then find the job that makes you the most excited. That lets you balance and be happy and not run yourself into the ground like I know you've been doing because you're still the same Frankie that I fell in love with when we were just kids."

“What I have to do is to be a good example to Luna, to Rachel.” He tells you. “To give them everything I can and make you happy too.”

"And I have every faith that you'll do that." Just once, you lost your faith in Frankie Morales because of fear. You're not going to let it happen again, when you're finally in a position for both of you to really have everything you've ever wanted.

“Can I kiss you again?” Frankie asks, looking into your eyes.

It's like feeling a light switch flip somewhere in your body, and you light up all over. Including your brightest smile. "I really want you to."

Frankie smiles, huffing out a small laugh as he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours again.

The momentum tips you backward on the bed, laying you out on the bed underneath him and making you reach up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. It's not a small kiss or a tentative one, but one that blots out the rest of the world, making sure the only thing you can possibly think of is him.

It’s been a long time since he has been so enthusiastic about kissing someone, but this is just like your first time all over again. He’s nervous, excited. Age and experience are the only things keeping his hips from rocking an already hard erection against your stomach as he covers your body with his own.

If anyone was trying to tell the difference between you and Frankie as teenagers and you and Frankie now, they would find the task almost impossible. An all-consuming kiss, wandering grasping hands, and only the barest thread of restraint are all hallmarks of the two of you together. If he had still been wearing that towel it would be gone in an instant, but as it is one of your hands slides all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants and grips in earnest.

“Fuck.” Drowning in you is where he wants to stay. Barely breathing and pulling himself away to kiss down your neck. Wanting to kiss every inch of you. “I— I got checked out.” He groans against your neck. “Physical. I’m clean.”

The pause that gives you is immediate, freezing under him in embarrassment. “I—I haven’t yet. Since…it’s only been a few days. I have condoms though.” With all the upheaval since ending things with Santiago, getting tested had slipped your mind.

“It’s – Pope’s clean.” He knows his brother in arms. He knows how the man is. He might have been a man whore before, but he doesn’t sleep with multiple women. If he was with you, he was tested and only slept with you. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I—” Maybe its impulsive. Or overly emotional. But when Frankie meets your eyes all you can do is tell him the truth. “I just want to feel you again.”

Frankie groans and nods, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again. “I want that too.” He insists, pulling away to start peeling your clothes off of you as efficiently as possible.

The pair of leggings and light dress you had reached for this morning in an effort for minimal fuss might as well be nothing at all in the face of Frankie’s determination. The thin cotton dress is up over your head in no time and the leggings peel off of you with all the difficulty of a two-piece puzzle. “I didn’t expect this…” you admit quietly, telling him I’m not so many words that you would have at least picked a matching bra and panties set this morning if you thought there was a possibility he would see them.

“Neither did I,” his smooth cheek would suggest otherwise, but he grins and leans down to kiss down your chest. “But I don’t care about panties, hair, or anything else. I just want you.”

It’s useless that he felt the need to put on pants, because now you’re pushing them off his hips with both hands and biting back a groan at the softness of him. He’s filled out, because of course he has, and the scars from his missions echo your stretch marks in all the years that have been lost between you.

“Gatita…” Your nickname comes out like a prayer, his lips worshipping every inch of your skin.

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve groaned that name.” It’s certainly been long enough since you heard it like that, a fact that shivers through you with increasing excitement.

“Not true.” He admits with a small smirk as he looks up at you. “You were still my favorite jerk off memory.”

“Still moaning my name while you get yourself off?” Someone that’s simultaneously the sweetest and filthiest thing you’ve heard in ages and you open your legs wider to let him rest in that valley between your thighs. “Let’s see if we can give you something new to think about.”

He gives another filthy groan, aware that things have changed, but he doesn’t care. Your stretch marks are gorgeous to him, you gave birth to his child. Every mark is special. You are just as sexy to him as you were when you both were teenagers. He pulls your bra down and wraps his lips around one nipple as he slides his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

“Fuck, Frankie!” Careful not to be too loud since Luna is napping down the hall, you bite back letting a real shout out and it turns into more of a growl. Your hands are on him instantly, grasping at his shoulders, curling in his hair, and holding him in tight against you as your hips snap up to seek out his thick fingers.

He chuckles darkly, very pleased to find that you are reactive and vocal in your older years. Keeping you quiet had been a favorite game of his.

It isn’t really that different from when you were young. The desire is there as clear as day, coursing through you and sparking with every touch. Every kiss is endlessly deep, like you hold the key to each other’s lives somewhere inside yourselves and the hunt for that missing piece is as deliberate as it is lazy.

Fingers circle your throbbing sex, slicking themselves up with the arousal that is pouring out of you before he dips them inside. Remembering how you loved to be fingered when you were younger, even letting him do it on the subway under a jacket.

If it were anyone else, you might be embarrassed at how thoroughly dripping you are for him already. But Frankie was the first to feel how wet you get from something as simple as being kissed just right, and the hope that is making your pulse beat wildly out of time right now is that he will also be the last. The bookends of your lives might always have been meant to be each other.

The key to making your legs shake and your pussy clench around him is to start slowly. Pushing two fingers deep and curling them up as your walls stretch around him. Groaning at your nipple and flicking his tongue over the stiff peak.

For as well as he remembers your body, it might as well be yesterday that he last touched you and not twenty-five years ago. Your back bows and you moan again, fingernails scraping against his scalp in the way that always makes him growl gorgeously.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses in pleasure, pulling his fingers back and enjoying the sucking sound that they make in your sopping wet pussy. Only to press his thumb to your clit and plunge them back deep again.

The whines and whimpers he pulls from you are as deliberate as any musician playing their instrument in an orchestra. He still plays you expertly. Like muscle memory. He is the one who taught you so much of what brings you pleasure, and you did the same for him. It's all you can do in this moment to get your mind into high gear like the rest of your body, and reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his cock.

"Fuck." He groans, rocking his hips up towards the long-wanted touch of your hands. "You always touch me— fuck," he moans your name. "You touch me like no one else ever has."

"Always make me feel so good, baby," you pant out, body twisting every second to be able to be as close to him as possible. "Always want to return the favor."

"You will." He promises. "Let me make you feel good."

"You always do." The promise is absolute, because he really always knows how to make you feel better than anything else ever could.

His fingers continue to pump into you, working you higher and higher as every sensitive nerve ending in your pussy is set on fire by his touch. The tell-tale sign is when your legs begin to shake, thighs tightening and pussy clenching around his fingers. The long strokes of your hand over his cock stutter as pleasure starts to short-circuit your mind, making you forget everything except how good you feel. Frankie has always been good with his hands, but he's definitely learned a few tricks over the years.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers like a vice and he keeps pumping them into you. Wanting to wring you of every second of pleasure you will give him. The quiet cry of his name is like a shot of lightning through his system. "Good girl, fuck gatita. You're so good for me."

It's not you who is being good right now, but Frankie who is treating you so well that when you cry out in pleasure there are actual tears in your eyes. The peak of that pleasure that he's been building you up to is so high that you almost get the sensation of falling when your body finally tenses, shaking you apart at the seams so that the only part of you that hangs on as you start to cum are the parts of you that he has claimed as his own.

His lips still skim over your body as he works you through it. Whispering praises into your skin in Spanish as he watches your face in awe. Struck by how beautiful you are, crushed that he has been so stupid as to walk away so long ago. Determine to make up for lost time.

Whimpering when the aftershocks leave you limp underneath him, both of your hands urge Frankie back up your body, needing to kiss him more than you need air in this moment.

He hums proudly as he shuffles up, kissing you lazily with a grin curving his lips. “Sounds like you just came, gatita.” He teases quietly.

“You’re a menace, Frankie Morales.” The observation is as true now was it was twenty-five years ago.

"Your menace." He adds, smirking slightly as he kisses you again. It sounds amazing, being yours again. He's always been yours in his heart, but now...it's a second chance for both of you.

“I love you, baby.” Another kiss for him is gentler this time. His face is full of promises and his eyes shine bright in the early afternoon light that streams in through his windows.

"I love you." He vows softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "I want to make love to you."

“Please.” It might sound like begging, and maybe it is, but it’s been far too long since the last time you laid in this man’s arms and right now you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Every touch is calculated, timed. Meant to show you how much he is cherishing you and this moment means the world to him. He kisses your lips and whispers his love for you once again as he shifts and lines up with your welcoming entrance.

Every stitch of clothing between you is gone along with your inhibitions. Nothing to interrupt you as long as Luna stays asleep and you are definitely not going to do anything to wake up that angel. You'll swallow down every cry or pour it into kissing Frankie and just basking in the beauty of having him back in this moment.

"I love you, gatita." They were the same words that he had whispered to you when he had pushed inside you the first time, repeated now as he slowly starts to sink into you. Watching every micro expression you make as he feels like he is coming home.

“I love you s—so much.” You’ve never been overtly emotional about sex. Not really. You weren’t the kind of girl who cried at the emotional moment of losing your virginity or got choked up over a loving vow made in the heat of the moment. But being so connected with Frankie again almost has you in tears at the sheer rightness of this moment.

Frankie’s arms slide under you, pulling you close as he starts to pull his hips back. Not wanting there to be an inch of space between you when there doesn’t have to be. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispers. “Not letting you go again.”

The promise rolls through you with such seriousness that you cling to him a little more tightly. “Never going to let you go.” When his hips tilt forward again, filling you and pressing your bodies together just that much tighter, you could swear you feel one of the cracks in your heart knit back together.

His own heart doesn’t ache anymore, the missing piece that has been gaping in his chest is returned to him. Slotted right back into place perfectly and making him whole. Kissing you again as age and emotions make this time last much longer than your first together.

Moans and praises stay stifled not because of a small apartment with family nearby, not because of friends or because the moment is stolen or illicit, but because you’re drowning in kissing each other the entire time. Every movement is fluid, moving one into the other so it is impossible to tell where you end and he begins, all that matters is that you’re not letting go. Nothing else matters if it isn’t something you can do together — because you’ll never be apart again.

Nothing has ever been as magical as this moment, beyond the first moment he held Luna after she was just born. Nothing can compare to the utter tranquility in his soul, the quiet in his mind as he gives and takes from you in equal parts.

Who knows how long you stay in that bed, turning over each other, clinging and moaning low into drawn out kisses. Who knows how long you stay there or how many times you change positions, keeping each other as close as possible while you work through the bliss of reunion up to the precipice of pleasure. By the time his hips start to stutter and the coil of orgasm starts to tug at the pit of your stomach, you’re on top of him — riding him even as you pour your heart into sobbing praise.

Looking up at you in wonder, all he can do is watch as you splinter yourself into pieces on top of him. Mixing and mingling with him until he is tugging you back close and devouring your mouth in another kiss. Breathing his amazement into you.

You shatter together, finding that remarkable peak of pleasure all at once, and holding tight to each other as you ride out the aftershocks as one.

It goes on forever. Or at least it seems too. Both of you drifting down together until you are collapsed against his chest and breathless. Frankie aching with the first good pain he’s felt in such a long time.

“I love you, baby.” This is it. This is home. The closest to paradise you have ever been or will ever be is in this man’s arms and you’re not going to let another second of your life pass without him being a part of it.

“I love you too, gatita.” He wraps an arm around you and strokes your bare back softly. “I had a thought today, one that’s horrible, but it’s true.” You hum, lifting up to your elbow to look at him curiously. “I wished that you were Luna’s mother. That she was our second baby together.” He chuckles. “Or that late in life ‘whoops’.”

“You never know,” you hum softly, cradled on his chest with your knees still bracketing his hips. If you never move again, you’ll be only too happy to be this close to him. “I still have a couple of years in me as far as baby making goes. Only a few, but they’re still there. And Luna…Frankie, I already love her. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to her myself.”

His brow lifts in surprise. “Would you really want that?” He asks seriously. “Another baby? With me?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible or safe,” you remind him gently, lifting your head to kiss him again. “But what if I made an appointment with my doctor to get checked out? Let her tell us if it’s a bad idea before we get our hearts set on it?”

“Whatever you want.” Frankie agrees. “I’m clean.” He promises you softly. “I’m never touching any of that shit ever again.” He told you about the coke and you had taken it surprisingly well, but he wants to remind you that he’s serious.

"I know, love." It was a long and twisted road that led him to that, and Marie was the one driving the proverbial car, so you know it's behind him for sure. But you also know Rachel would never forgive him if he relapsed and something happened to little Luna, and he has the love of two daughters hanging in the balance now. "I also know, whatever happens, I love you and I'm going to be right here at your side."

“My license is going to be reinstated.” He whispers quietly. “One of the board members told me. It’s not official yet, but he….wanted to let me know.”

"Honey that's— that's fantastic." You dive in to kiss him again before reluctantly sliding off of him, letting yourself be tucked into his side instead. "We're gonna make it work this time, Frankie. Every bit of it."

“Even if I don’t fly right away, I have my retirement. My disability.” He promises. “I can help you. I need to help you.”

"We'll make up a budget, and we'll make sure everyone is contributing to the house somehow." The grin playing at your lips is soft, and you brush some hair out of his eyes. "Luna can contribute with giggles. The adults will take care of the rest."

“She also blows great raspberries.” He jokes, still slowly caressing your back and hoping this moment never ends.

As if the mention of her name was enough, the sounds of movement from over the baby monitor are nondescript for a minute or so before the soft cooing of a wakening baby turns to the blustering that comes before cries. "Well..." you huff a small laugh and lift yourself up on your elbow. "At least she let us finish."

Frankie laughs and taps your hip. “I’ll get her.” He promises.

"I'm gonna clean up and then I'll meet you downstairs?" The domesticity of the whole thing makes you smile, and you lay back on the pillow again to admire him as he hauls himself out of bed to pull on his boxers and grabs the baby monitor.

Frankie coos when he opens the door, instantly moving over to the crib to get Luna out. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gotcha.”

It is okay. Life may not be perfect yet but the promise of it is there. He has you back, he has both of his daughters, and he’s going to make it work this time. You all are. As a family.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer @shakespeareanwannabe

TSR: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @thisishwrworld

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Santiago Garcia #Francisco 'Catfish' Morales #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #The One That Got Away #Feral Frankie Friday #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #TF fic

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wandaslittlelove · 7 months

Text

Just This One Thing

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: angst/with a happy ending, reader almost marries a man

“Wanda?” I say to the redhead that just burst into my room seemingly out of breath. “You can't be here” I say, fixing my dress.

“I know,” she says quietly while walking closer to me. She stops just a couple inches away from me while looking over my dress and everything. “I just” she takes a deep breath “I had to see you” She whispers once again as she begins to play with the rings on her fingers.

“You need to leave.” I say sternly as I turn away from her trying to cry.

“Detka please. I'm so sorry for everything. But I promise I'll do better. I'll be better. Just please.” I say nothing and I hear her let out a sad sigh. “Let me walk you down the aisle. Just like we always planned. Then…Then I'll leave for good.” I hear the trembling in her voice and with a sigh I turn to face her.

As I get a good look at her I see how red her eyes are and the tears that are coming down them. She’s wearing my bridesmaid dresses so obviously someone had to have helped her. Noticing my staring, she speaks up.

“Natasha let me in. She also got me the dress.” I nod at her words and make a quick reminder to have a talk with Natasha later. “Look, I know you're upset with me. I want to make things right but I know you want nothing to do with me. So let me do this one thing for you and then I'll leave.” I contemplate her words as thoughts start racing through my head.

I don’t want her to leave but I know it's for the better because if she stays I'll fall right back into her arms. Her warm, safe, strong arms. Nothing compared to the man I'm about to marry. He barely pays attention to me, hangs out with his friends all the time, not to mention his “work vacations” or “overtime” which I know is him really just sleeping with Amanda from HR.

“Wanda I-” I'm cut off when she walks forwards, taking my face softly in her hands. I look at her in shock but quickly melt at the tears gathered in her forest green eyes. The eyes that I had fallen in love with years ago and can never seem to get over.

“Just this one thing princessa.” After a few minutes pass I see her deflate and she pulls away. I'm embarrassed to admit that I almost let out a whimper from the loss. As she turns to leave the door I panic and run up to her.

Next thing I know my back is against the door with her lips on mine. I forgot how soft her lips were. How gently she held me when kissing even if it was heated.

After a while we both pull away and she rests her forehead against mine.

“Detka I.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I don't want to be with him. I want to be with you.” I ramble quickly as I hold onto her tightly. The sound of music can faintly be heard in the room and I know now that I was supposed to be walking down the aisle already.

Wanda seems to hear this as she glances at the clock then back at me.

“You have to make a decision fast. Choose me and we’ll leave right now. I'll text Nat and tell her. Or choose him and… and I'll go.” My mind seems to be racing again as I hold onto her tightly. I know that if I choose Wanda then Natasha will end the whole wedding. But if I choose my fiance. The guy I'm supposed to be saying “I do” to right now then the person I’ve loved for what seems like my whole life will leave with all the happiness I have left.

So with a quick kiss to her lips I hold her hand nodding. And with a smile she quickly drags me to her car before sending a quick text to Natasha.

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calaisreno · 4 months

Text

Couple

865 words / Prompt: Imperfect

“We’re not—” John begins, but realises the futility of saying it again.

“You’re a lucky man.” Hopkins winks at him. “I’d make a play for him myself, but he’s obviously taken.”

He watches her walk away while he stands at the bar, waiting for another pint. She’s just the kind of woman he once would have hit on. A fun flirtation.

Now he doesn’t have the energy. And he’s wondering when that happened.

Sherlock is watching him.

He should be used to it by now. People always assume they’re a couple, and really, he doesn’t mind so much. He’s stopped saying he’s not gay because it’s misleading, and he would rather be honest. But it’s nobody’s fucking business who he is.

Sherlock must know. God, they’ve known each other for years, lived together for months now, since he and Rosie moved back. They’re practically co-parenting, and often exchange the same weary look that only the parents of a toddler can wear.

But Sherlock looks sad, he thinks. If John is honest with himself, he’s a bit worried that Sherlock is tired of the John-and-Rosie show, the trail of destruction Rosie leaves everywhere she toddles. The cases always used to bring them together, and now, even if they have a babysitter, John’s often too exhausted to go out with him.

Even this, a night out with the Yarders, Rosie at home with Mrs Hudson, is less fun than John had hoped. Sherlock doesn’t care for pub nights, but he tags along because John presses him to be more social.

He moves towards Sherlock, who’s sitting on the periphery of the noisy group. People don’t socialise with him much. Even the women who look at him with appreciation give up after a brief exchange. Sherlock can manage social occasions when necessary, but he’s clearly wishing he were somewhere else.

He slides into the seat opposite. “I’m glad you came.”

“Why?” Sherlock gives him a sharp look. “So I could watch Lestrade’s team get pissed?”

“No, I’m glad because… I like being with you.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rise. He gives an amused huff. “You live with me.”

“Yeah, I do. But at home there’s always some mess to clean up or Rosie to deal with. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t your favourite thing.”

“I don’t mind.” His mouth curves into a smile. “I like being with you, too.”

John nods, takes a swallow of beer. “Stella was just making the usual assumption. We look like a couple. And I was wondering, are we?”

“Are we a couple?” Sherlock’s face does something complicated: surprise, discomfort, and then careful indifference. “People are idiots.”

“I don’t care about people. I care about you. Does it bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Because you don’t… I know you care about me and Rosie, but you don’t do…” The word is on the tip of John’s tongue, but he’s looking into Sherlock’s eyes, feeling completely obvious.

“Romance,” Sherlock says. “It’s a medieval construct, John, an idealisation of a reality that is often messy and contentious. People fall in love and marry; they run headlong into disappointment and divorce. I abhor the idea that we must put on blinders and pretend everything is perfect. It’s not, and never has been.”

John feels his heart sink a bit. “Yeah, you’re right.” He touches the side of his pint glass, watches the condensation run down.

He’s thinking about his own failed marriage. He’d loved the idea of Mary, an escape from the past, the possibility of a future with a person who loved him. He’d built an idealised life in his head, and it hadn’t taken long for him to realise how mistaken he’d been. The night Mary died, he’d planned to talk with her, tell her what he’d realised about himself. He didn’t know where that would take them, but it had to be said. He’d only delayed because of Sherlock’s text.

“Love,” Sherlock continues, “has nothing to do with romance. It’s not perfect. It’s a decision, one we keep making because it’s important.”

Their eyes meet. John is looking up into Sherlock’s face, remembering when he said, we might all just be human. “Important. To you?”

“Yes.”

The group is suddenly louder, laughing and jeering at some remark. No one is looking at him and Sherlock.

Those grey eyes are still gazing at him.

“Love is important, John. I know I don’t often express sentiment, but I do feel it. I do love you.”

At the look on John’s face, Sherlock’s smile turns to something sadder.

“I adore you and Rosie, and I love the messiness of living with you. I don’t want a perfect life. I want you. I want us.”

“So, you’re saying… you want us... to be a couple?”

“We already are, John. What that means is up to us. Do you want more than what we have?”

“God, yes.” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks them. “I do. Want you. If you…?”

“Yes.” Sherlock is smiling now, a full, bright smile that practically lights up the room.

John leans closer. “I love you too, Sherlock.”

The kiss is messy and imperfect. And glorious. Nobody’s watching.

#mayprompts2024

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thehollowwriter · 5 months

Text

I think we should talk more about the mysgony when it comes to parents in media, and how fathers are favoured and praised for the most the most basic shit while mothers are demonised for making mistakes or being bad. This is gonna be a long one, buckle up.

I hate Mrs Rosehearts as much as the next guy, but it's unfair that Mr Rosehearts is not given similar criticism for allowing his wife to treat Riddle the way he does. I hardly see people bring him up apart from mentioning that Riddle's parents probably have an unhappy marriage, and some people say something along the lines of "poor Mr Rosehearts, struggling with a wife like that".

Of course, we don't know enough about his character to gauge how Mrs Rosehearts treats him, bit it's clear he just passively stands to the side when it comes to whatever Mrs Rosehearts wants to do with Riddle. That itself is very harmful and it's own form of abuse, imo.

The same applies to Alador Blight from the Owl House. He's praised for being a wonderful dad that finally came through and stood up to his "horrible wretched bitch of a wife" (who, if she was a guy, would probably have more people analysing her and trying to find ways to sympathise with her just saying)..

And while, yes, he did stand up to her and that's a good thing, the general consensus is he was a brilliant dad from the start that was held back by his wife's wicked ways. But... that's not true? His first appearance is him telling Amity to stop being friends with Willow. He ignores his children constantly, and, like Mr Rosehearts, stands passively to the side when Odaliah treats her children like her property.

He's a neglectful parent at best and just as concerned with image and status at Odaliah at worst. But... that stuff is just forgotten. Most people just say "we thought he was bad but it turns out he was manipulated by his wife". He is HIS OWN PERSON. You cannot just blame everything on his "evil manipulative wife" (which is also smt that sometimes happens irl when both parents are abusive). He is still fully capable of making his own decisions.

And again, it's unfortunate, but if Odaliah were to be given his treatment or if Alador were a woman, the general response would be "That's sad but not an excuse! I can't believe she was forgiven!"

The worst I can think of atm, is Silco and Vi from Arcane. Now ofc they're not married. But the circumstances are similar.

Silco is praised to the high heavens for being one of the best dads in animation (#1 goes to Doofenshmirtz ofc, which I agree with) and the reasons for this are because he... shows his care, puts Jinx first, and loves her. Wow. Fucking groundbreaking am I right. The bar is soooo high/s

The thing is, Jinx is a child soldier. She works for Silco, protects his shipments of Shimmer, takes out the enemies that need taken out, etc. He found her as a young child, and when we cut to the present, she's murdering people without so much as flinching, even delighting in it, and suffering badly from trauma and hallucinations.

Obviously, Jinx was not given the care she needed, and was instead trained to assist Silco.

Am I denying Silco loves her? Of course not! He clearly does. But that's just not good enough. He's a loving dad, but not a good one. He's not the father that neither Jinx nor Powder needed.

Meanwhile, we have Vi. Vi loves Powder, protects her, cares for her, tries to keep her out of harm, stands up for her, and so on. She cares so deeply for Powder, and you can see it. The moment she got out of prison, her first goal was to find Powder.

However, because she hit Powder once, and shouted at her, she's apparently an abusive monster who never cared about Powder. Reminder, she hit Powder because her entire family was killed in front of her and then she learned Powder was the reason that happened. She was like... 14? And she immediately left to calm down. She did not abandon Powder, she left to take a breather because she realised she was too angry. And when she came back, she was drugged and arrested.

Silco is a grown adult who purposefully flooded the streets of the Undercity with a highly addictive drug, turned Powder into a soldier, and is generally a terrible person, even if he is a three dimensional amd well written antagonist.

Vi started the story as a teenager suffering poverty and discrimination just like Silco, had to deal with her own parents death, then her adoptive family was killed in front of her, and then she was forcefully taken from her sister. And yet, people are convinced Vi is a terrible and abusive sister who never loved Powder?

The only example worse than this, methinks, is Stella and Stolas from Helluva Boss.

Stella is a shitty mother who ignores her daughter, which the the audience is shown via a scene were Octavia is having a nightmare and she tells Stolas to deal with it. She frequently screams and swears at Stolas and throws things at him, with no regard for her daughter's presence or feelings.

This is pretty terrible, right? Of course! Everyone knows Stella is a horrible mother.

Stolas on the other hand, is praised for being such an loving and caring father, who tries his best. He even has a song with Octavia!

Well, he also: openly talks about having sex with Blitz and how much he likes it while she was right there, told her people want her money and her body, generally doesn't pay much attention to her either bc he's wallowing about Blitz not loving him back, and doesn't give her feelings much regard.

And yet, the misogyny extends beyond just Stella because people generally agree that Octavia is ungrateful and doesn't appreciate Stolas enough. They get mad at her for disliking the fact that Stolas is cheating on her mother with an imp who's been nothing but rude to her and ruining their family further, and even mock her for feeling unloved. Hell even Brandon, one of the creators, has allegedly recently called her a "cockblocking slut" which, frankly, is a disgusting thing to say about a 17 year old girl.

Idk man I'm just tired.

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walkingstackofbooks · 2 months

Text

"Are you happier? Now that the war is over?"

It had been meant as a serious question, but from the look on Kira's face, she hadn't caught onto that. "What sort of question is that, 'am I happier'?" she asked, laughing a little as she spoke. "Of course I am! Who isn't?"

Shrugging, Julian forced himself to smile back at her. "No, of course," he agreed. "Silly question."

His smile clearly hadn't been convincing: Kira's own smile had faded as she looked at him more closely, her eyebrows creasing into a frown.

"Have I done something to make you think I'm not?" she asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No-- no, nothing like that," Julian said hurriedly. "I mean, obviously Odo's gone now, and Keiko and the Chief, and Worf, and... and the Captain... But that-- That's different, isn't it, I guess. You can be sad and happy at the same time, right?"

He cringed, knowing that he hadn't quite managed to make sense there: years of practice had made him very good at recognising Kira's 'baffled' expression.

"All these years," said Kira, slowly shaking here head, "and I still don't understand you, sometimes. Of course I miss Odo, and the others -- and while we're at it, of course I'm still angry and-- and upset about the things that happened during the war..." She made a face, banging her fist lightly against the table. "Damn you, you know I'm no good with feelings, that's... there's a lot more there, besides," she added. "And I'm sure as hell not going into that right now...

"But if you're asking whether I'd rather be here, now, living without the threat of the Dominion or the Cardassians, knowing my friends are alive and safe -- and if they're not, at least being able to mourn them in peace, not having to make decisions that could get us all killed if it goes even slightly wrong... or if I'd rather be back there, in the war -- well. It's no contest, is it?"

"In theory, no, of course--"

"In theory?" Kira asked incredulously. "Julian, are you saying you were happier in the war?"

"No!" he exclaimed: that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "The war was-- it was... Well, you couldn't be happy during the war, could you? Everything was too awful, it was impossible."

"A lot of the time, yeah," Kira said softly. "And that's gonna stick with us for a long time -- but they're only memories, now. We made it."

"We did," Julian said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table. "I just... I thought I'd be happier, I guess. Now that it's all over."

Kira reached forward, brushing her hand over his. "That's what this is all about?" she asked. "You aren't happy?"

"I never said I'm not," Julian objected hotly, looking back up at her -- but a sigh slipped out of him as he realised he didn't actually have an argument, and he shook his head, slumping back into his chair. Kira watched him, not saying anything.

"No, you're right," he admitted, pulling his arms across himself, almost too tight. "I know I'm supposed to be-- I know, after everything, it's so stupid... But, Nerys, I don't-- I don't think I am?"

Stopping to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, he noticed he eyes had grown wet, which for some reason made him chuckle. "Isn't that silly?" he asked, leaning forward again. "We won the war, but I'm still not happy."

"No, Julian," Kira replied slowly. "I don't think that's silly at all. It's just... It's just very, very sad." She took a breath, reaching out to hold both his hands this time. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her hands tightly. "For a while, I just thought everyone else was pretending, too, so I just went along with it... And then I started to realise that no, you were all actually at least a little bit okay, and so I had to keep pretending, because happiness is so fragile and I didn't, you know, want to make anyone else feel bad just because I..."

He trailed off, shrugging a little. "I don't know, Nerys. I guess I just wanted to check that it wasn't just me, but it is just me, and now I've told you, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad--"

"Julian, no," Kira interrupted. "Thank you for sharing this with me -- I'm glad you told me, okay?"

Ears growing hot, Julian ducked his head, not quite sure to do with the wave of emotion spilling over him. Now that he'd told her some of it, he kind of wanted to let everything out. Distractedly, he started tracing patterns on her hands, pushing into them with increasing intensity.

"It's just-- I'm just..." He stumbled over his words, struggling to give voice to the one thought that he'd been trying to ignore for months. "What if this is it for me? What if I'm like this forever? It's been years, Nerys--"

To his horror, his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to burst out. Hoping that no-one else had noticed, he looked around the replimat; thankfully the other diners seemed more interested in their own conversations than in him and Kira.

"Would you like to go somewhere less public?" Kira asked. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nodded, and together they left the replimat.

As they walked down the promenade and up to the habitat ring, Kira steered clear of their previous conversation, chatting about the station, her week, her latest grievance with Quark, and Julian was grateful for the respite. But as soon as they were sat down in her quarters, she turned to him with a most serious expression.

"It isn't right, you feeling like that, you know," she said. "I don't have the answers, I don't know how it gets better -- but we both know someone who would. You haven't tried telling Ezri any of this, have you?"

Julian's stomach tightened: Ezri was the last person he wanted to have this particular conversation with. "Oh, yes, because that would go so well," he retorted sarcastically. "Hi Ezri, I love you, but you don't make me happy. Don't worry, it's not you, I'm just unhappy most of the time. Most of the time? Yeah, it gets better when I'm around you, because then I just kind of feel... nothing. What an improvement!"

"Julian..." whispered Kira, but it was all coming out now and Julian couldn't make it stop. He rose from the sofa, starting to pace as he spoke.

"Did you ever make me happy? Maybe, sweetheart, but I'm not even certain of that. I might have been so desperate for anything even resembling happiness that I just deluded myself into thinking I was in love... Do I even love you? Who the fuck knows, Ezri. Is love even real, or did it die in the war along with every-fucking-thing else?"

His voice had risen louder than he'd intended, condemning him with every word it pushed forcefully into the air. He'd made Kira cry, he thought, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision being clouded by his own mess of tears.

"How could I possibly tell her that?" he asked, sitting back down heavily, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "Kira, how the hell do I tell her that?"

"Come here," she said in way of a response, pulling him against her and holding him tightly, so that he could feel her lips move against his hair as she answered him. "I don't know," she was saying, "but you have to, Julian. I can be there with you if you want but, Prophets, Julian, you have to. How could you not?"

How could he not?

Julian closed his eyes and let himself fall apart against his friend, not even bothering to try to answer her. It was terrifying, after all this time, to finally allow someone to see how broken he really was, but he was far, far too tired to keep it in any longer.

#Julian Bashir #Kira Nerys #Andi writes #DS9 fanfic #weirdly I feel like I've written something along these lines before?#but i can't actually remember doing so?#it might be because all my stuff ends up sounding like this lol i'm such a cliche :P #anyway as ever this wasn't planned it just happened #the past few days there have been like 4 things that have come up in my brain as a little whatsit to just do #i almost started a julian and sisko talk about jadzia during baseball one yesterday #but today i ended up starting to write a song #(i don't miss the war -- but i do miss you)#and then this happened because i can't share the song (yet) but i can share this #wsb

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brooooswriting · 6 months

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Please I need a part two for oh I know!!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🩷

Oh I know pt. 2

Part 1

It had been some weeks since your discussion with Leighton and she kept being supportive and encouraging about every decision you made. It got to the point where you felt bad about not being out, especially since you’d love to show her off. You felt the worst when it was her birthday coming up.

“So, my parents and my brother are coming down for my birthday and we are going out to eat. Do you want to join?” She questioned as she typed on her phone. You were chilling in the spare apartment your parents had near campus, and you often went there when your roommates were too much.

“Are the others also going to be there?” You didn’t wanna make it too obvious but you already knew that the blonde figured out why you asked.

“No, but that doesn’t have to mean anything” she tried to convince you.

“Cause you’re someone who brings here friends to her family?” She sighed, knowing that you were right and she dropped the topic after inviting you to go to the theta party after she’s done with her parents. You said you’d try to come and dropped the topic too.

At least you tried, but the whole night, you could only think about how sad she looked even though she tried to hide it. She's been the best girlfriend one could be, and the fact that you couldn't celebrate her birthday with her because you were scared actually made you mad at yourself.

Coming out to your parents/family still scares the living shit out of you but if Leighton's family accepted her, they'd surely accept you too. Plus, coming out to your friends and her family didn't mean that you had to come out to yours too. After a lot of contemplating you finally made up your plan.

“So, where are you guys going for your birthday tomorrow?” you asked as the blonde laid in your arms, a movie playing on the small TV you had in your apartment.

“Oh, the fancy place down the street. It's my dad's favorite lunch place and I'm fine with whatever” Her hesitation was obvious but you decided to ignore it as you were too scared to reveal anything of your plan.

“That's nice. What are you going to wear?” a happy squeal left her mouth and she picked up her phone to show you pictures of her outfit, explaining each detail while your hand rubbed over her waist.

Later that night you walked Leighton home. “Good night baby” You checked your surroundings before you pressed a couple of soft kisses to her lips, trying not to let her notice your nerves building up. “Good night” she pressed a last kiss to your check before disappearing.

At midnight, you texted her happy birthday, how much she meant to you, how much you appreciated her, and that you couldn't wait to see her. She obviously didn't answer until the following day. You shot her a quick answer before getting ready, needing much more time as your nerves went wild. You wore a nice suit with nothing really underneath, styling your hair neatly and doing some natural make-up. Leighton's present was wrapped up and sat on the kitchen counter, your keys and everything else you needed next to it. Nervously shaking you sat on the counter before the clock stroke 2:45 meaning that you had to leave now.

You parked your car at the edge of the campus and walked to the blonde's dorm. Leighton was known for being quite punctual so you didn't knock, instead just standing in front of the door, her present and some roses in hand. You didn't have to wait long as the door opened and revealed your beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, her back turned to you as she still talked to her roommates. “Alright, I'll see you guys later,” she said before turning around, nearly running into your arms. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” she questioned as she looked you up and down.

“I wanted to be your date to your birthday dinner,” you said and shot her a smile. “Happy birthday my love” you added, holding the flowers toward her.

She grabbed the flowers with a confused look before looking back at you. “But I thought you said no?” she played with the leaves of the flowers and leaned against the doorway, unsure of what to think.

“I did…but you're way too awesome to hide and I want to be able to go out with you and give you the life you deserve. I'm not scared of coming out if it means being able to be with you in public. I am in love with you and I want people to know” you explained with a sheepish smile.

Leighton smiled at you and hugged you, “I'm in love with you too.” She pulled back to kiss you passionately. Your hands immediately went to her waist as you reciprocated the kiss. The two of you only pulled back when you heard some awws coming from behind the blonde. Her roommates were standing in the common room of their dorm, staring at you with big smiles. Leighton grumbled and pulled the door shut before pulling you along as you had to get going. “Are you sure about this? I don't want you to regret this”

You chuckled and pulled her into you as you two walked to your car. “I am 100% sure about this. There is nobody I'd rather be out with than you.” The youngest Murray smiled up at you and left the topic alone. You opened the car door for her, acting as if you didn't see everybody on campus staring at you, then closed it before getting in yourself. Your hand placed itself on her thigh while she answered some of her happy birthday texts, a comfortable silence taking over the car. Your nerves got worse with each mile you drove but every time you looked at the girl next to you, you calmed down again. She was definitely worth it.

When you pulled up you already saw the Murrays standing in front of their Range Rover. You parked behind it and gave Leighton a nod before getting out and opening the door for her, holding your hand out to help her get out. “You gonna be fine” she whispered to you as you closed the door and walked up to her family after giving your keys to the valet parking.

“Hello, my name is y/n y/l/n. I am Leighton’s… girlfriend. It's a pleasure to meet you” you said to her parents, shaking each of their hands before settling back to your spot between the siblings. Some anxiety lifted off of you when they smiled at you.

“Well, it's great to meet you y/n. I'm Henry and this is my wife Mimi. Should we go in?” they were extremely nice to you and started to walk in when you two gave them a nod. You were walking behind the rest, your hands intertwined and a big smile on your faces.

The dinner went amazing, her parents were so nice and accepting that your heart ached at the thought of your family never being like this. But when Leighton giggled at some comment Nico made and her parents countered, you couldn't think about anything else but the beauty of this moment.

When dinner was done, and your discussion with Henry over who would pay was over, you walked outside to retrieve your cars. The sun was nearly setting by now and the family still had to drive some hours to get home. “It was really great meeting you y/n. And remember you're invited to the family meeting next month” Mimi said as she hugged you goodbye.

“It was really nice to have you here” Henry said and went to shake your hand, “but don't you dare hurt her” he whispered, still too loud as Leighton groaned behind you.

“I won't sir, I can promise you that” you answered and moved on to say goodbye to her brother when he nodded at you.

Not long after you sat in your car again, your hand placed in hers as you drove back to the campus. “They love you” she happily grinned at you as you drove. “Thank you, for doing this. I know how scared you were” she added.

“This was the greatest thing that I could have done. Thank you for your patience and support baby” you countered as you parked the car and pressed a kiss to her lips. “So, changing and then to the theta party?” she gave you a happy nod and jumped out of the car.

That night you danced together on the dance floor, made out right next to it and went home together with everybody knowing that you were each others. You were happier than every, even though you knee that it was only a small amount of time until your parents would figure it out. But that was a problem for another night.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

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oneawkwardwriter · 7 months

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Hi i love ur writing. Sorry this is long but could you do a Caspian x pevensie!reader whose susan’s twin and like he chose her over susan and like they meet in prince caspian and fall in love and he “proposes” but then she can’t come back to narnia.

BUT THEN… she goes back with E Lucy and Eustace(whose kinda her enemy in a funny way) for some reason and she’s with Caspian and it’s just them on the Dawn Treader and Lucy tells caspian how sad she’s been the year they were back.

Can it just be really angsty and fluffy at the same time🤭🤭

Sorry this is long i just love ur writing💋💋

Prove Her Wrong

pairing: Dawn Treader!King Caspian x Pevensie!fem!reader warnings: angst obviously, dw it's also fluffy, mentions of drowning (no one actually does, but it feels like it for a moment), amicable banter, pining, regretting decisions, use of y/n (I'm so sorry) summary: both you and caspian have been miserable a/n: aahh, I love this idea so much! Also, thank you for giving me an excuse to watch the movies again, really needed that. I did kind of twist the plot to make it fit better, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Sorry it took this long to write it, my schedule's been packed for the last couple of weeks, I hope the fic makes up for it. wc: 2.6k

It had all happened too fast to comprehend. One second, you're standing in your cousin's room looking at a painting. The next, you're engulfed in a massive ocean trying to keep your head above the surface.

Too busy looking for the younger children, you hadn't even noticed the change in the atmosphere. Everything had gotten a little brighter, the air more fresh, the sky more clear. But you were preoccupied trying to make it out alive as the currents tried to pull you below the surface.

"Lucy!? Edmund!?" You yell out with what little breath you had left. "Eustace!? Anyone, where are you!?"

Somewhere to your right (or left, seeing as you had no sense of direction anymore), you heard a faint voice you recognised as your younger sister calling out for you.

"Lucy!" You manage to get out as you try to swim towards her. As you come closer, you were able to make out the two boys as well.

"What happened, where are we?" Eustace calls out, arms flailing around him as he tries to keep his head above water.

You share a fleeting look with your younger brother and sister, and something in your gut tells you you know exactly where you are.

"We're back, aren't we?" Edmund asks, confirming your suspiscion. But before you can answer his question, a ship dooms up, and it was approaching you rapidly.

"Swim!" You shouted, trying to put a safe distance between you and the ship while also trying to keep the others closeby.

You heard a few loud plunges into the water, and when you turned around for a moment, you saw some of the crewmembers swimming towards you. A moment later, you felt a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist.

"It's alright, I've got you." An all too familiar voice reassures you. You turned around, only to be met with a slightly older version of the man you had been forced to leave behind the last time you had left Narnia.

"Caspian..." You say breathlessly as you look into his eyes.

"Y/n..." He responds, equally out of breathe and clearly both surprised and confused to see you here.

Together with the other crewmates, he helps you onto the ship, even Eustace who is screaming fire and demanding to back to England. Someone hands you a warm blanket, which you gladly accept and drape around your shoulders. You glance at Caspian, and for a moment your gazes lock, before he is pulled away by Edmund.

"Did you call for us?" He asks, to which Caspian shakes his head.

"No, I didn't. Not this time, at least," Caspian answers, glancing over to you once more as he does.

You're interrupted by a shrieking Eustace, who is swatting away a large mouse sitting on his chest.

"Get this filthy animal off of me!" He screeches as he scrambles backwards.

"Pretty sure that mouse is far cleaner than you are, Eustace," You say as you roll your eyes and shake your head. "It's good to see you again, Reepicheep."

"It is a delight to see you as well, Your Majesties," He responds, bowing down for a moment.

Caspian walks up to the stairs that lead to the quarterdeck and addresses the crew. "Men, behold our castaways: Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valient and Y/n the Righteous; High King and Queens of Narnia."

All the men on the ship went down on their knees and bowed deeply in respect of you. No matter how many times you had been called Queen, it always sent shivers down your spine.

Caspian led the three of you towards the King's quarters, which doubled as his study, leaving Eustace in the care of the crew, who had fainted when he had seen Tavros the minotaur. You had been given some dry clothes that fit you like a glove, although your shirt was a little big and had a vaguely familiar scent to it.

In the middle of the room, a huge map of Narnia was sprawled out across the table. You scanned over it, your finger absently tracing the coastal lines as you lightly smiled to yourself. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you had missed being here when you were back in England.

With Peter and Susan off to America, you been left to stay at your aunt and uncle's house with your younger siblings. At first, you had thought it wildly unfair to be stuck in England whilst your older brother and twin-sister got to live with your parents across the Atlantic ocean.

Eventually, you had calmed down and accepted your fate. Most of the time, you could be found lightly fidgeting with the one possession you had been able to take back with you from your last adventure in Narnia; a simple silver ring you kept on a piece of string around your neck. It reminded you of a time where you didn't feel like the second option, a feeling that haunted you often when being compared to your twin.

"It has been three years since we won Narnia back from my uncle," Caspian explains as he points towards the map, "There is peace in the entire country now."

"And have you found yourself a Queen in those three years?" Lucy asks, making you look up from the map. She truly didn't mean any harm with the question, but Edmund lightly nudges her side and gives her a stern look.

"No," Caspian says with a light chuckle to alleviate the tension, "not one to compare with your sister..."

"Hang on," Edmund interrupts, "But if there's no wars to fight, and no one's in trouble... then why are we here?"

"That's a good question. I've been asking myself the same thing," Caspian answers. "Before I tried to take the throne back from my uncle, he went after my father's closest advisors, the seven Lords of Telmar. They fled to the Lone Islands, but no one has heard from them since."

"So you think something's happened to them?"

"Well, if it has, it's my duty to find out," Caspian says rather solemnly. He looks over at you, trying to get a read on you, but your eyes are glued to the map in front of you.

"What's east of the Lone Islands?" Lucy asks, pointing towards the map where it just says The Great Eastern Ocean.

"Unchartered waters," Drinian, the captain, answers. "Things you could barely imagine. Tales of sea serpents and worse..."

"Sea serpents?" Edmund asks, his face lighting up at the sound of something dangerous to battle against.

"Alright, Captain, that's enough of your tall tales," Caspian interrupts. "You are free to go wherever you want on this ship, it is as much yours as it is mine."

It's a silent cue for Edmund and Lucy to go with the captain and explore the ship, while you stay in the quarters, leaning against the table, your eyes still locked on the parchment. After the door shuts, Caspian speaks up once again.

"Can you at least look at me?" He asks, his voice much softer and hesitant now. "Please?"

You lightly sigh as you look up at him, your eyes instantly finding his. "I'm sorry I left," You say truthfully, even though you sound rather defeated.

"Don't apologise, I- I shouldn't have asked you to stay." This time, it's Caspian who lets his head fall and gaze upon the map. "I knew you couldn't, yet I asked you anyway. I am sorry, for putting you in that position, that was selfish."

"It's alright," You somewhat reassure him, "Aslan knows I would have been just as selfish had roles been reversed. But we can't change the past, and we mustn't let it stand in the way of our future." You take a deep breath as you take a step closer to him. "You deserve a bright future filled with happiness, Caspian. Don't let me stand in the way of that by holding onto something that can't be."

It's the right thing to say, the logical thing to say. You're from a different world, there's no way of knowing if you'll be able to stay in this one after the adventure is over. It guts you to the core to walk out of the King's quarters, it tears your heart apart, but you try to shake it off as you go out onto the main deck.

Luckily for you, you're able to take your mind off of it when you notice your cousin Eustace talking to a regular seagull.

"What on Earth are you doing talking to a bird?" You say, a somewhat smug tone laced in your voice. You're called the Righteous, not the Humble, and for good reason.

"I just assumed that-" Eustace begins, his face turning a light shade of pink.

"That just because a mouse can talk, so must a bird?" Maybe it's a coping mechanism for the shattered heart in your chest, but you let out a light chuckle. "Oh cousin, you have a lot to learn about how things work here. Good to know you can't claim to be the smartest person in every realm." You shake your head and hear a few crewmen chuckle along.

The sky gets darker as the evening falls, and the crew celebrates the your arrival with festive spirits. Sea shanties are sung, dancing goes hand in hand with a lot of laughter and a couple of bottles of liquor are brought out.

Despite the gloomy thoughts that have been haunting you for the day (and the days before that), you laugh and leap along with the crewmen. Even Eustace loosens up a little, although keeping it modest. The only one who seems unaffected by the joyious celebrations is the king, who sits on the staircase and watches the others, or rather, watches you.

At some point, he is joined by Lucy, who due to her young age can't participate in the drinking and adult activities. She sits down next to him and keeps quiet for a little while, before speaking up.

"What's bothering you, Caspian?" She asks softly. "Is it the Lords?"

"For the first time in a long time, it actually isn't, my friend," He says truthfully, letting out a sigh. "It feels like even when she is this close, she is still worlds away."

He didn't have to say your name in order for Lucy to understand. It's the same way you didn't need to mention his whenever she would find you staring mindlessly at the wall or out the window back in England. You would always have that same tragic look in your eyes while you fidgeted with the ring around your neck, no matter how hard you would try to mask it whenever Lucy got your attention.

"You know, she feels the same way right now," Lucy responds, feeling incredibly sorry for both your misery.

"She's evidently better at coping with it than I am." The words came out more bitter than intended, but Lucy couldn't really blame him.

"Out here, maybe. But back in England," She refrained from saying 'back at home', never having been able to call it home when she had missed Narnia too much. "Back in England, she was a mess. A beautiful, poised and collected mess, but crumbling down on the inside."

Caspian didn't speak up, but simply looked sorry and felt even more remorseful than he already had.

"She kept the ring, you know," Lucy continues, "Oh, she would never say it out loud, but it was obvious she regretted leaving Narnia, leaving you most of all. I'm pretty sure she would give anything to stay this time around, if you'd ask her again."

"She told me to let go of a future with her, said she didn't want to stand in the way of my happiness," Caspian argues solemnly, "Sounded a lot like she wanted to move on from all of this."

"That's what she thinks is the right thing to do, because it makes more sense," Lucy counters. "Prove to her that it isn't."

With that, she stands up from the stairs and walks out into the crowd. Turning around one last time, she says:

"Oh, and maybe do something about the beard, it might remind her of the man she fell in love with."

Caspian lightly rolls his eyes at her comment, but decides to take her up on it nonetheless when he retired to the barracks below deck. For the sake of privacy, he had given his quarters to you and Lucy to stay in while you were on the ship.

Later that night, when everyone was passed out in their beds, Caspian went onto the deck to get some fresh air, where he soon notices you, leaning on the railing while you looked up at the stars.

"Still having trouble sleeping?" He asks as he stands next to you.

"Insomnia doesn't go away so easily, it seems," You softly chuckle, having to do a double take when you notice he has shaved. "I was almost getting used to that beard, but I'm glad you shaved it off any way."

"What is it with the hostility against my facial hair?" Caspian comments as he raises an eyebrow at you. "I thought it made me look ruggedly handsome."

"Who'd you have to look ruggedly handsome for before we showed up today?" You ask in a mocking way, making you lightly snicker when Caspian takes on a defensive tone. "Oh, stop it, I was merely teasing."

"Teasing, are you now?" He asks, a mischievous glint sparking up in his eyes as he leans in just a little. "That's not very Queen-like behaviour, now is it?"

You lightly sigh, letting your head fall for a moment before you speak up. "Perhaps I've gotten a bit rusty," You note, "I haven't been a Queen for a while now, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's like riding a horse," Caspian assures you, "It's not something you can unlearn, even if you don't practice anymore."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing. Might make the next time I leave more easy..."

"You're still planning on leaving after this adventure?" Caspian asks, his voice growing a little more quiet. "You can stay, you do know that, right? You did the first time, surely you can-"

"Caspian, please," You interrupt him, pushing away from the railing and taking a few steps back, "It's too difficult, you know that. I can't just leave my family behind, and I can't ask them to stay."

"You don't have to do that. I am certain there's a way for you to move freely between realms," Caspian suggests, "And if there isn't, we'll find a way. Somehow, things like this have a way of working out."

He takes a step towards you, reaching out but refraining from touching you just yet. "Besides," He continues, "Time goes by much slower there than it does here right? We can figure this out and they won't even notice you're not there."

He searches for your eyes as he takes another step towards you, a silent longing in his eyes as he does. "You don't have to come with an answer right now. Whether it's tomorrow, next week or at the very last second, I don't care as long as you're certain that whatever you choose is something you actually want, not what you think is right."

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. "Okay," You say after a while. Your eyes are still closed, but a small creeps up on your lips.

"Okay?" Caspian echoes, his eyes sparking up, even though he's not sure he heard you correctly.

"Yeah," You say, opening your eyes to look into his. "Okay, I'll stay. But I might change my mind if you don't come here and kiss me, because-"

Luckily, he cuts you off mid-sentence by pulling you in and effectively using his lips to shut you up. You can feel him smile against your lips, and you can't help but reciprocate the gesture while your hands run up into his hair.

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak

(to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)

#writeblr #x reader fics #divider by saradika #oneawkwardwriter fics #come back be here #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian fic #king caspian x reader #king caspian fic #the chronicles of narnia

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cecilysass · 2 months

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Mulder’s Depressed Vampire Sex: Me on 3

You know, I like the episode 3. I mean, not the casefile part of 3, which is whatever whatever, but the important part: the blood fetishist lady has her way with Mulder and then he cries.

I definitely loathed the episode back when the show was airing. Back then it seemed like it was intentionally hostile to the ship—like going out of its way to be hostile, having Kristen tell Mulder shit like “I can tell you’re missing someone, but attention please: just a friend. Definitely not more!!!” I honestly kind of felt like she was looking out of the screen directly at me when she said it.

But looking back, knowing that MSR was endgame (and that fans kinda took over the narrative anyway), I definitely see the episode totally differently.

From a Mulder character arc point of view, this episode is all about him being a sad, sad boy. It is all about his depression, his hopelessness, his grief for Scully. It’s also about his drive to try to save women and girls in order to save himself. And he so often seems to fail at this when it is someone he cares about (or even when it is someone he has a fleeting connection with, like Kristen). And that’s so, so devastating for him. In that sense, this episode is a really desperate expression of his grief and frustration.

The HIV/AIDS angle to this ep is super important, too, so we have to make sure we’re getting into the full 1994 mindset on this. Mulder says in alarm to Kristen back in the club, when she’s playing fast and loose with blood: “AIDS. Aren’t you afraid?” (To which she responds that she wants to die.) Mulder knows that HIV transmission through sharing fluids is no joke in 1994 (it probably really shouldn’t be now either, but that’s not today’s lecture). Yet later, when Kristen is shaving him and he’s nicked, he allows this to be the catalyst for sex, even as he makes attempts to stop her from tasting his blood.

So his choice to have sex with Kristen is depicted as reckless, with someone who has been shown being careless about HIV. And he is doing it not just because he is turned on, but because he is being intentionally reckless with himself, clearly knowing the consequences. He shows concern for her, yes, but he’s also self destructive. He wants to fuck the hot vampire, but he also wants to fuck with death.

In other words, there’s a difference between what the episode tells us about Mulder’s relationship to Scully and what it shows us. And what the episode shows us about their relationship is that Scully is central enough in his life that everything is fundamentally affected by her abduction. He’s broken. He’s visibly depressed. He makes decisions that risk his job and his life. All the while he is actually choosing to wear her cross: a symbol that traditionally wards off vampires, as Kristen observes, but also keeps Scully’s presence in his mind constantly and in every frame of the episode he's in. And the episode ends with him looking like a hero in a romance novel mournfully casting his eyes to the hills clutching her cross in his hand.

None of this obviously communicates “I miss my work friend,” right? No objective observer would see this and say, “ah, he clearly is missing someone—most likely a friend, I would say.” But probably that’s exactly why they included Kristen’s “just a friend” line. They knew his grief in this episode was reading very powerfully, and they didn’t want it to seem overtly romantic.

I also feel like it’s kind of significant that the only time we actually see Mulder have confirmed sex with someone (besides Scully later) is when he’s depressed and Scully is gone. Linking his grief for Scully to his very-rarely-seen acting out on sexual desire like this also seems kind of psychologically sus to me, but I don’t know, I read a lot of fanfic.

Speaking of which, I did a little fanfic search for 3. And unless I am missing obvious fics (always a possibility), it was kind of difficult. Partly because this is a stupidly hard episode to look in search engines for. (No one should ever name episodes after numbers, although this one I will forgive because it’s from 1994 and they couldn’t have fully understood about Google and AO3.)

But also I just think there hasn’t been a ton of 3 fanfic, probably because this episode isn’t very well-liked. And listen, I get that Scully isn’t in it, which is often unappealing for writers, and there is Mulder/other, which people don’t like. But I feel like there are a lot of possibilities for story ideas here that don’t necessarily take place during the events of the episode. Like: how does it affect them later? Personally I like fics where Mulder and Scully discuss the events of the episode long after (actually I wrote one, which I included in my recs because I’m not that cool). I also think Mulder’s angst and depression has a lot of ways it could go—not to mention it’s the last canonically confirmed time he has sex before like 2000 or something. And it seems like AU takes on what happened to Kristen could be interesting. So what I'm saying is: maybe try writing 3 fics.

3 Fanfic Recs

Three is a Crowd - wendelah1 Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop thinking of Scully.

Analgesic- settledownfrohike Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop being a self-loathing, self-destructive mess. And thinking of Scully.

The Woman In His Heart - Spangle This shorter piece frames Mulder’s time with Kristen as a revelation about his feelings. Angsty and nicely observed. A 2005 Spooky winner, evidently.

False Dawn - emmbright A sharply etched portrait of how Mulder moves through his life between 3 and One Breath. For me this fills in the blanks perfectly.

Dreams - Characteristically_Exuberant This is actually a (great) post-ep for Field Trip, and the events of 3 aren’t the main focus of the fic. But I like how this author discusses what happened with Mulder in that episode and contextualizes it for both agents.

We’re Not Here To Get Involved In Personal Problems - cecily_sass This is mine, also not really a 3 post-ep; it’s an X-Cops post-ep. I feel a little silly including it. But I had them discuss the events of 3 in this fic in a way that sort of lays out my own thesis of the episode, and I thought, hey, it’s my list. Mulder and Scully walk to a gas station in Willow Park in Los Angeles the morning after X-Cops; they discuss plenty.

Any others? I feel like I probably missed some.

#the x files #3 episode #fox mulder #Kristen kilar #Scully abduction arc #x files fanfic #season 2 X-files #xf season 2 #meta

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its-chelisey-stuff · 11 days

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Love Next Door: The Choi family vs Bae family

Full disclosure: Because nobody asked for it but I'm having a terrible cold and I'm high on cold medicine lol so of course I thought it was time to write this! Hope you enjoy it!

Because I don't like to linger on the sad and uncertain lol I started to think about the future and wondered how the families would react when these two get together (because they will, obviously). Way back into the first ep, I used to think Seokryu's family was gonna throw a party to celebrate, since they already see Seunghyo as a son but now I'm not so sure. That family is poison lol

Meanwhile, I kinda do feel like Seunghyu's parents would be totally on board, but more than that, they know they have no choice in the matter since it's their son's life and he's a grown man, able to make his own decisions and shape his life into whatever the hell he wants with whomever the hell he chooses. I feel like they'd be happy their son has found happiness, that the parents themselves lost some time ago.

the man really thinks his wife had an affair.... and did she??

It's a bit tragic but the coldness and distance in the Choi family actually has some advantages. Since the parents have separate lives, they recognize their son is a separate entity from them, and not at all a reflection of their marriage or a measure of success.

Meanwhile, Seokryu's mom's first impulse on knowing she wants to be a cook is to humiliate her not caring who is watching, just like when she found out she broke the engagement and quit her job.

I like her dad a lot less now, btw

Looking at it, it's fascinating the way these two families interact and how they might look at each other and wish they had what the other has. It's a clear example that you really can't have it all. Seokryu's family is so loud and outspoken but way too much into each other's businesses; they say things, and then it can't be taken back after these painful outbursts, but hey at least they're talking right?

And idk if I want to cry or if it's the cold lmao

While Seunghyo's family look a lot like strangers cause they barely speak to each other; the silence is so loud filled with everything they want to say, all the resentment and regret bottled up, but they just can't find the words. And all these little details are so heartbreaking: The mom didn't even know the son had moved back home, the son gifted his mom a necklace he didn't even realize she already owned and the father looks like he's silently drowning in misery due to his failed marriage and a possible affair? It's just a lot.

In case it wasn't obvious, I like the Choi family more because their problem seems to be a lack of communication rather than a lack of respect and/or boundaries. And I'm rooting for them to clear all misunderstandings. Maybe it's because they're so quiet, they haven't worn me down like their neighbors lol On the other hand, the Baes have this problem of absolute lack of empathy AND zero boundaries. Seokryu has been saying everything she feels since she came back, and only been asking for her parents' understanding, but they (especially the mother) have refused to give it because she misses the facade of the perfect daughter she could brag about to her friends. It's so fucked up.

Also, I have lost count of how many times I saw the way Seokryu's parents interact and thought "yikes how are these two together?" and then immediately thinking they might have chosen to stay together cause that's what you do in a marriage, you go through hard times together, through rich and poor. But their marriage isn't healthy. And the way they put so much pressure on their daughter but let the son off easily... ugh

So yeah, Seokryu's family is gonna get a slap of reality right on their faces and hopefully that'd be their wake-up call. But my biggest interest lies with the Chois. I need them to speak and if the parents still divorce, at least they should have a heart-to-heart. That conversation holds more interest to me than any mental-breakdown and wave of regret the Baes are going to have. Deservedly so.

#love next door #kdrama #jung hae in #jung so min #character essay #i guess???#should i clasify this as rants of illness? lmao

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darcytaylor · 2 months

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Luke Newton & social media/instagram

I've seen some people be pretty upset about Luke Newton's social media activity and his lack of posting/liking/commenting.

While I do think that he could be using his social media in a more productive way. I think that there are valid reasons as to why he is doing what he is doing.

Luke has mentioned that he wants to use his social media for work related things, rather than for his personal life. I think this is a good approach for any actor, they can showcase their work and passion, and I believe this would probably help with their mental health. Social media is not for the weak!

(there is a reason why so many influencers need to take time offline for their mental health, online environments can be toxic and just a downright scary place to be)

So when you have an actor, who is famous for their acting and not an influencer where you need to be online constantly for your job. I'd say making your online profile work related rather than personal makes complete sense.

(I think that when Luke decided to do it, it was a decision that was made a little too late. Making his profile more professional right before the promo tour didn't give the fans time to adapt to his new normal of posting)

Social media can be a stressful and an overwhelming place (even with my small amount of followers, I can be overwhelmed, I don't know how I would ever deal with millions of people).

This brings me to Luke consistently bringing up how overwhelming season 3 and him being the lead is.

It's actually somewhat sad to take a look at past interviews and see how many times he brings it up. He is already trying to cope with his rising fame, and it is obviously effecting him in a stressful way. Any normal person would try to take away any unnecessary areas in their life that would cause more stress. I think Luke is choosing social media.

Unlike Nicola, who I have commented on multiple occasions how good she is at her job, in all areas including social media. But not everybody has the ability to do that. Not everybody can fully take on millions of people, a career, a private life, a social life with the grace she does.

Nicola is not the standard of how most people can handle things. She is an anomaly. This is also why I think that comparing Luke and Nicola in regards to posting BTS and farewell posts is kind of cruel to Luke.

Luke is also credited as being empathetic, sensitive, introverted, and a people pleaser (all of which tie into his anxiety).

I think because of this it is normal that he would shield himself off from the world. Disconnect from the outside world to protect himself.

I also believe that this could make someone throw caution at every post and comment made on their socials. Anxiety makes you second guess every action, every thought. You want to make everybody happy, but you could be damned if you do and damned if you don't, so you just don't. It's not worth it.

Then there is the issue of Luke making those questionable PR moves a few weeks ago. I think Luke is trying to regroup and come to terms with the fact that he messed up in that regard. His career took a step back because of his actions that were brought forward through social media. I think he believes that the best way forward is to distance himself from it while he figures out his surroundings, especially since he had already mentioned that's what he was going to do.

(I know some people think he made zero mistakes, but this is an area I strongly believe some mistakes were made)

I also believe that because of the bad discourse going around about him online and through professionals, Luke must be scared to make the wrong move and/or the wrong choice.

Luke has wanted to be on stage/act at a very young age. I can see that he is very passionate about it. I think he saw that slipping away from him slightly. Especially since Bridgerton and being a lead was supposed to do the opposite. He's probably going to do most things with a bit more caution and social media is on that list.

Let's try not to hold much thought into how Luke's social media is presented.

Should he maybe hand his social media over to somebody else to manage? I think that could be a smart move.

Do I think that if he did post something completely endearing about Bridgerton and Nicola he would appease a lot of fans? Also yes, but like I stated above, I believe there are multiple things holding him back currently.

It's okay to be disappointed that Luke doesn't upload or comment regularly. You can also be disappointed in the content he is posting. But it's only social media. Most of the time social media is fake anyway.

#luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader

THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!

summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.

A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3

***

„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.

“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.

Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor. Not that she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her abilities, she would protect him from that pain.

“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.

“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”

“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”

Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.

And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.

But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there’s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.

“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “

“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”

“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”

“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.

“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them. Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.

But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.

“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”

“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.

“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.

“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”

“I know. I feel the same.” She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.

“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.

He knew.

He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.

“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”

“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.

“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.

“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back

“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”

“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.

“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.

“Yes?”

“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”

“Do you?”

“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”

“That’s good to know.” Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head. He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fluff #dc fluff #father!dick grayson #dick grayson x mum!reader

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sweetbbyshion · 1 year

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Breakup

-> Touya Todoroki x Reader

characters: Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Shoto Todoroki

genre: a tiny bit of angst but mainly fluff

summary: you and touya breakup. his little brother isn't very happy about it.

warnings: established relationship (between dabi and the reader), breakups, happy ending though, this is set on an alternative reality where quirks aren't a thing and the todorokis are trying to be a better family.

another part of this series (you don't have to read it to understand this

I do want to write more scenarios with bf!touya and shoto being close to the reader. If you have any scenario you want to see, my requests are open

Dabi breaks up with you on a random day before summer vacation, just before your six month anniversary. You don't get an explanation even after you screamed and cried to get a reason why. Dabi simply kept looking at you while you tried to hit him for breaking your heart with no care in the world.

A week later, his mom calls you. She talks excitedly about all the plans for the summer and you break down crying once again. You hate Touya even more for not telling his family about what happened and letting you deal with it all alone. Surprisingly, Rei still asks you to visit but you tell her you're not sure you can do it. You hear the sadness in her voice and you hear Shoto asking if he can talk to you but you hang up before he has the chance to get the phone.

That family took you in like their own and you couldn't be more grateful but breaking up with Dabi meant you couldn't afford to be in that family anymore. So, you do your best to ignore Shoto’s texts for the next couple of days. You don't hear from Dabi in the meantime and you feel, for the first time since the break up, that maybe you will be ok.

For some reason, the gods are against you and Shoto shows up at your door on a wednesday night, completely alone.

“Does your mom know where you are?” You ask, after rushing him inside and preparing some food for the boy.

“Not really. I had to take extreme measures. No one wanted to tell me why you didn't visit anymore.”

You're not even sure how the kid managed to get to your house. You sigh, reaching for your phone to text Rei about her youngest’s whereabouts. You feel his intense eyes on you; Shoto always looked at people like he could see their deepest secrets. He was observant of those he cared about. You turn your back to him and go clean the dishes used to cook, trying to push back the talk you needed to have with him. Maybe if you stalled long enough, Rei would arrive and you won't have to do it.

“Did my brother do anything?” The fork slips from your hand at the sudden question.

“Of course not. I’m just… busy.”

It was a bad lie and even Shoto could tell it wasn't the truth. But what were you supposed to tell him? You couldn't just say his brother was a huge dick that broke your heart with no explanation and then just ghosted and left you to deal with the aftermath of his decisions. Shoto looked up to Touya, you couldn't paint him as the bad guy - even if you wanted to talk shit about him to anyone who was willing to listen.

You turn to Shoto and give your best smile, “How about you finish eating and then go watch something on the TV? I’m sure your mom will be here soon.”

The youngest Todoroki stays silent for the rest of the time. You take as long as possible cleaning everything and, luckily, the doorbell rings as soon as you sit on the couch. Shoto is the one getting up to open the door, you follow him right after to apologize to Rei for any inconvenience. You open the door with an apology on your tongue that disappears as soon as you see your ex boyfriend standing there.

“What are you doing here?” You talk, venom coating your words.

“Came to pick up the brat. Let's go, Shoto.”

The smaller boy looks at his brother and then you, obviously sensing the thick tension in the room. “I don't want to go.”

“What do you mean you don't want to go? Just get in the car, mom was worried sick about you.”

Shoto moves to stand behind you, a small pout on his lips as he refuses to go with his older brother. You try to convince him, “You can spend the day some other time if your mom allows it” but Touya is quick to shut off the idea. You stare at the man that was once your lover but he doesn't keep eye contact with you, instead looking at his brother with a stern look.

“You're not together anymore?” The look on your face is enough to give him an answer. “Why? I thought you liked each other?”

“Shoto…” you start, “Sometimes people aren't meant to be together. It happens all the time. People… fall out of love, or something? You’ll understand when you're older.” You wanted to give him a better explanation but how could you when you didn't know it yourself? Shoto looks confused but you simply smile and push him towards his brother. “It's late. You should go, ok?”

The boy simply nods and walks out, Touya following him right after. You close the door before resting your back against it. It hurt seeing Touya again. It hurt even more to cut ties with such a young boy that you learned to love like your own brother.

You wipe away the tear that stubbornly fell and walk away from the door. However, you only take three steps before a harsh knock is heard. You look around the room to see if there's anything Shoto might have forgotten.

“I didn't fall out of love.” is the first thing you hear when you open the door. “I could never fall out of love with you.”

“Then why?” your voice is no louder than a whisper.

“Because I love you too much.” The look of confusion in your face is enough to make him keep going. “I was such a shitty boyfriend sometimes, you deserved better.”

“That's the shittiest excuse I’ve ever heard!”

“I know!” He interrupts you. “What I mean is that I’m fucked up. I ghost you over small things and I punch walls whenever I’m mad. I need serious therapy, I swear.” you have to hold back a laugh, not wanting to ruin the serious conversation. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Your expression softens when you feel Dabi’s hand touching yours. “You would never hurt me.”

“I’m my dad’s son. It's a matter of time until I do.”

You shake your head quickly, tightening your hold on his hand. “You’re not your dad.” you whisper. “You're a good person, Touya. You remind Fuyumi to take care of herself all the time, you help Natsuo with homework even if he knows the answers just because you want to spend time with him. Not to talk about how you're always calling your mom because you don't want to leave her alone ever again.” your hands move to his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “And you’re Shoto’s role model. He looks up to you, he wants to be strong and smart like you.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“It does!” you lightly caress his cheeks. Those pretty blue eyes stare intensely at you as you keep walking, “It means you care about them and would never hurt them. Just like you would never hurt me.”

Touya grips on your shirt while pulling you closer. “But I did hurt you. You have been crying.”

“Then be with me and never make me cry again.” you plead. “We will get you help and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Touya hugs you and you melt into his arms, feeling like you just got home after a long day. You breathe in his familiar cologne and play with the hair on the back of his neck, missing the soft locks between your fingers. “Stay the night.” you whisper. Touya simply hums, tightening his hold around you and you sigh happily with the thought of finally sleeping well with the cozy man you missed so much.

You feel another pair of arms trying to wrap around you and you look down to find a smiling Shoto trying to wriggle his way in between the two adults. Even Touya doesn't have the heart to tell him you're having a moment and instead he puts an arm around his brother.

“Can I stay too?” You laugh at the request and nod, earning you a squeeze from Shoto that quickly asks “Can I sleep in your bed too?” The look in Shoto’s eyes tells you that he’s only saying this to annoy his older brothers.

“Wow little guy, back off from my girl will ya?” Touya argues, pinching the smaller one’s cheek.

Your heart warms with the interaction and, even though you knew you missed this, you didn't have an idea of how much until now.

Despite the protests, Touya forces Shoto to sleep on the “very comfortable couch”. He picks him up and almost throws him there, then tucking him in with the fluffy blanket you had on the couch. Shoto tries to wriggle out of the tight hold Touya has on him but to no avail. Touya kisses his forehead multiple times to annoy the younger boy before leaving him alone.

“Will you be ok here? You can sleep with us in the room if you want.” you decide to ask Shoto. He simply shakes his head and promises he will be fine there. “Sleep well.”

With that, Touya drags you to your room and finally kisses you. You missed the way his lips feel against yours and how he caresses your back during the kiss. Your breakup was just a horrible case of lack of communication and you hope in the future this doesn't happen again.

You let Touya pull you to bed and cuddle you. You fall asleep almost instantly and you don't think you have slept that well since the breakup.

You and Touya decide that the next day you will have a serious conversation. But for now, you just enjoy each other's company.

#kora posts!#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia fluff #dabi fluff #mha x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #shoto todoroki #mha dabi #mha touya

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

Text

Apple pie

part 1

part 2

my angels! sorry i’ve been so busy i’ve been so excited to post this for you guys and am actively writing chapter four as WE SPEAK. thank you guys again sm for 600 followers ugh i cry. MUAH.

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: Talks about sex and mentions of hookups, mentions of yelling and crying, slight obsessive and stalking behaviors, just tons of angst- enjoy it.

Word count: 2,307

Days turn into weeks; weeks turn into a month. A month of you not even seeing Leon. You shouldn’t have grown attached to him in only three days, but what did he expect? You didn’t know if you were angry or if you were just sad. You now felt anger daily walking up the sidewalk to see his yard dying. He’s home, that’s the thing. All of his windows are now covered with black curtains. And it made you so.. angry.

He knew how to press your buttons too—pulling his curtains open and popping open his windows right before he left for his long night out. Listening to his Jeep pull out of his driveway, then come back hours later, the sound of him and some random woman laughing. Your eyes peered over your book as you watched Leon and said woman walk into his house, and before they even reached the bedroom, he was tugging at her sweater, her hands holding his chest. Stupid motherfucker. His eyes open as he sloppily kisses the woman, looking at you through the window as his shirt gets tugged off. The way his jaw fucking moved as he hungrily kissed the black-haired woman back. You’ve never stood so fast, trying to make it seem like you didn’t care as you closed your blinds. At least trying to sleep, shoving your pillow into your ear at the exaggerated cries and moans coming from Leon’s house.

But even though it hurts, you still get that aching feeling for him. To make him another pie or even a whole dinner and just knock on his door, apologize? You would say sorry if it meant you could see him smile again. And since it’s just shy of May, your strawberries are blooming. You knew they were coming in, and it gave you some joy for the first time in a while.

You woke up so early this Saturday morning, getting the small black basket sitting by your sink and running outside, a loud squeal of joy leaving your lips at the bright red strawberries. At least 15 of them too. Your fingers carefully tugged at the small stems, putting all of them into your basket. You let them sit in the vinegar bath for an hour, then run them over ice-cold water and put them in the freezer for exactly an hour so they’re cold and just a bit crisp. You stare down at your notepad as you lean against the counter, quickly writing

“I hope everything is going well! With love, your neighbor.”

You bite your lip as you stare at the basket of perfect strawberries before grabbing them and walking out your door. Your lawn is your pride, staring at your flowers before you walk down the sidewalk and up Leon's driveway. You stare at his door for a while, your hands gripping the basket in your hands as you regret your decisions. Maybe turn back while you can. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Yet you want to talk to him. Your knuckles meet the door, your breathing stops as you just stand there. You stand there for a while too, looking around the porch before your eyes squeeze shut as you bend over, laying the basket on his welcome mat and walking back to your house.

———————————-

Leon jogs every morning, and it’s the perfect excuse to stare at your house without seeming like a weirdo again. His breathing labored as he slowed his jog as he hit your yard, his eyes looking at the strawberry bush to see that they finally bloomed and you had picked them. He couldn’t help but feel happy- happy knowing you had something to make you smile. He knew you’d been waiting on them for a while.

When he finally gets home, his breath steadies as he pulls the water bottle from his fridge, taking a long drink.

Then there’s a knock on the door. His head turns towards his entryway, listening to the knock echo through his hallway. Maybe it’s the mail? He would be happy even to see his boss. His footsteps are quiet and careful as he walks to the door, his body carefully leaning against it as he peers out the peephole.

Fuck.

You’re just standing there, strawberries in hand as you glance around his porch. His chest grows tight as you go to knock again but stop yourself, resting the strawberries on his welcome mat. He wanted nothing more than to swing open the front door and ask how you’d been. How’s work? How’s your garden? His eyes close as he presses his forehead against the door, he reaches over, pushing his black curtain aside as he watches you shut your door.

And he immediately swings his front door open, grabbing the small basket and shutting the door yet again. He sets them on his dining room table, his fingers grazing where your hands once held at the small handles. His eyes skim over the note, the little heart you put at the end. Yet he grabs it, crumbles it up and throws it away.

—————————————-

You gave him all your strawberries; you didn’t even try any yourself. This made your eyes water, the familiar wetting of your cheeks making you immediately rub at your skin. The noise of your house phone ringing makes you jump, your sniffling stopping as you slowly walk to the kitchen, pick up the phone and press it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“They were good. Would’ve made a perfect pie.”

Leon’s voice rings through your ears, your eyes immediately shooting towards his house, but disappointment shades your face as you see his curtains closed.

“Yeah, they were perfectly ripe. I'm glad you enjoyed them.”

Leon’s hand tapped at his window seal, staring at the empty basket of strawberries on his dining table.

“My lawn is dying.”

Leon’s chuckle makes your heart flutter as you nod your head, a small laugh leaving your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I noticed actually.”

Your laugh makes his heart flutter.

The silence on the line is painful. Listening to Leon’s soft breaths on the other end.

“Goodnight.”

Leon’s voice sounded so friendly as he smacked the phone down. His breath increases before he grabs the small black basket, throwing it against his wall.

—————————-

You’ve been working too many extra shifts. The doubles turn into triples, sleeping on your breaks and downing black coffee. You get maybe four hours of sleep before you’re up again, throwing your hair up and dotting concealer under your eyes so you don’t look as dead.

Leon notices this new routine too, watching you run out the door at five in the morning, speeding down the street. When he finally sees your car out of view, he steps down his porch, his shoes crunching against the dying grass of his lawn as he walks over to yours. The grass was drying out and your flowers looked sad. Leon stared at the bushes for a few seconds before he walked over to your hose, twisting at the small handle before filling up your watering pot. He somewhat knew how you watered your plants, somewhat. After filling the pot, he let the hose spill water into your dying grass before carefully pouring the water over your bushes, making sure to get the roots and the dirt first and slowly make his way up the flowers.

When he finished, he ran his finger over one of the leaves, nodding before he placed your pot back, tangling up your hose once more and going back inside.

Leon did this for two weeks. Noticing that you were finally slowing down on shifts, he stopped; his black curtains draped open as he watched you step out into your lawn in the morning, staring confusedly at your plants. You knew they probably should be dead right now, your eyes narrowing at the healthy flowers.

—————————-

It couldn’t be Leon right?

Since it was coming up Summer, you were shocked Leon hadn’t been pulled out of town yet. He hasn’t been leaving much though, and when he did come back you always wanted to run out of the house to help him up his porch but his random women always seem to help him just fine.

Saying Leon wasn’t handsome would be the biggest lie. Lightning would come down from the sky and strike you. A quick google search also gave you maybe a bit too much information about him- pictures of him with the president, or him getting awards pinned to his chest, his name on memorial blocks, and way too much more. How have you never heard of him? The man has conspiracy rants about him online.

It made you even wonder if he did work for the local PD. You stared at your phone on the wall, biting at your nails with your laptop in your lap. You’re almost a whole bottle of wine deep? Why can’t you feel it? Your eyes went from reading the king article to scanning for your clock at the sound of pounding at your door.

Midnight?

This isn’t a bad neighborhood.. you felt your stomach steep as you looked around but you had no sort of self-defense mechanism at all. Maybe call Leon?.. No, no, don't call Leon. Now you really felt that wine as you stood up, tripping over yourself a bit and catching yourself as you walked towards the door. Your fingers at the small window by your door and your heart sinks at the sight of Leon staring at your door, watching his chest rise before he pounds on the door again making you flinch before you swing it open, the man staring at you.

Before you could even speak, he groans out in frustration at the sight of you.

“You called the fucking police department to check my employment status?”

This isn’t the usual Leon voice, he sounds pissed off and he is. And it’s valid.

———————-

You may have been in your own world, dozing off to the thought of whatever the fuck you do.

Leon's heavy breath filled his room as he pushed himself into the girl below him, closing his eyes, refusing to look at her before there was a ring on his phone. When he throws it down putting it on do not disturb, he can’t help but almost scream out of frustration as he pulls out of the girl, walking to his phone.

“Hello?”

“Control your little neighbor pet, Leon. Guess who called the police station asking for you drunk as ever. You’re lucky I didn’t call your boss.”

Leon hung up so fast, staring at his wall as he mumbled to the girl on his bed to leave, listening to her shuffle her way out of his house. He pulled his pants up, buckling his belt and tugging his black t-shirt back on as he stormed out of his house, marching to your door.

———————————-

You just scoffed as you looked at Leon, your hand gripping your door as he just stared at you with his sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Leon shook his head at the smell of the wine on your breath, looking past you to see your laptop and wine on your couch. Leon pushed passed you, grabbing the laptop on your couch and holding it in his arm as he scrolled through your search history.

“Get out!”

You’ve been googling him for hours, pinning websites to your pin bar. Leon slammed the laptop shut, staring at you. Your eyes are so soft, tears threatening your eyes as you watch him. It’s only been three months and he was obsessed with you. You followed his lead, slowly driving yourself to become obsessed with him.

Everything he did was in your favor. When you were overworking yourself, he made a really special visit to the diner, threatening your dick of a boss to hire somebody else or he would face severe consequences. The weeds in your garden, changing his entire schedule to revolve around you.

Leon was so obsessed with the thought of you, living this life where you and him could be perfect. It’s an unrealistic and stupid thought- honestly, it was fucking insane, clinical. Yet he just knew he had to stay away. He felt like everything he touched crumbled below his fingers, and if you somehow slipped from him, it would break him.

Watching the way your eyes water made that familiar ache start to form in his chest. He handed you your laptop, his hands visibly shaking.

He was walking away from you- again. You felt the tears slip from your eyes and you screamed at yourself. Don’t cry, don’t let him show you how you affect him so horribly. He reached for the doorknob but you couldn’t help but watch his back as you quickly wiped your hands, grabbing at his arm.

“Leon please..”

Hearing your voice crack made Leon’s heart erupt into flames, his hands suddenly stopped shaking as he turned back to you, his face a bit softer as you let go of his arm, your eyes still glossy. Your cheeks that light shade of pink, your lips slightly parted. His head shook as he took a small step forward, grabbing at the sides of your face before he slammed his lips against yours. And the way your hands reached up, it made him want to stay so badly. To hold you the rest of the night, he gently pushed you, not enough to hurt you, just to make you stumble, still looking up at him. But before you could even look, he was gone, and the door slammed again in your face. Leaving you stranded in your quiet living room.

———————————————————————-

taglist!

@bimbo-baggins86 @karmasshit @cweampier @wh0islyuri @ovaryacted @arianna-irwynarn @smallp00ks @xxacademy @x4ver1a @cryptkillo @darthdidi

#resident evil #leon kennedy #yourgentlegf #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #milascreams #leon kennedy angst #re6 #re6 leon #resident evil 6 #older leon plz #older leon kennedy

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fourteentrout · 4 months

Text

ACOTAR tag game 💕

thanks for tagging me @mathiwrites ! I don't normally do these even when tagged because i never know who to tag, a lot of times everyone i think of is already tagged LOL, but i figured id start today!

I don't think I've seen one around, and figured this might be fun to do!

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

My boy tamlin!!

Who's your least favourite character?

Hm....hmmmm...oh Amren for sure.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

She has a cool character concept and i thought it was really sweet and endearing when she gave feyre the bracelet (necklace?) to help her get through the Prison trip without panicking

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Oooh hm not to be a copycat but I loved tarquin from the moment he was introduced, he was an instant fav and i was kind of sad that he didn't have more involvement later on that didn't have to do with the whole feyre and rhys betraying his trust thing

Favourite MINOR character?

ooh i dont know if this is minor enough but i've come to really like jurian. i didn't really have much of an opinion on him for most of the series and then for some reason in silver flames when he was in it for like 2 seconds i was like wait a minute why haven't i been more into this guy he kinda fucks

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

tamsand by far. though azris is becoming a close second.

Favourite court and why?

well i loved the spring court aesthetic from the first book, but at this point in the series I think I'd say maybe actually dawn. it just sounded so pretty, and i think it would be one of the subtler, less overwhelming courts while still being awe-inspiring.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

oh shoot um okay court of clouds?? people who specialize in wind manipulation, likely populated by a race related to the Peregryns or Drakon's race? an actual cloud court like in the sky could be a vibe I think. perhaps it would be more removed from the politics of prythian--they'd still have a High Lord, but maybe it would be more of a military government or something.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

oh wow i mean i am always here for more rhys and tamlin content obviously, but i would have also loved to see more of like stories and stuff about the sentries from the spring court that went over the wall, like Andras. andras and lucien's relationship in particular would be one I would have liked to know more about. I also really want to see Azriel and his mom.

What's your unpopular opinion?

god what ISN'T my unpopular opinion. hm. i think feyre's whole reasoning for wanting a baby out of seemingly nowhere is dumb. like i get it, yolo, life can be cut short, but like i really do not feel like she picked a good time to have a baby, nor do i think she is remotely ready to be a mother. when she realized she wanted kids in acofas, it wasn't a strong enough argument for me to actually like get behind her decision.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

omg i have so many I literally started a list lol. the first one on it is kind of silly, it's that Helion is actually the faerie romance author sellyn drake that nesta, emerie, and gwyn like

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

go to a festival! not necessarily something as crazy as calanmai, but i would love to go to some sort of celebration. maybe starfall?

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

shapeshifting without a doubt

thanks again for the tag! ill tag @cheap-spirits @achaotichuman @thedickgraysons @wingsdippedingold @hugevanserrass @lady-of-sevenwaters @the-darkestminds @msbrownwithacrown @tamlinsnailtech and anyone else who wants to contribute!! if were mutuals and i didnt tag u im sorry i tried to think of as many as possible LOL but yeah definitely feel free to contribute if you want to! this was fun

#acotar tag game #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series

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nokiatelava · 10 months

Text

✿✿Leaving Me✿✿

Author's Note - Hi guys!! I'm kind of just planning on going along with the plot of ATWOW, obviously adding my own storyline here and there with Awpxey. But! I hope you guys enjoy the story!!

Summary - After finally being able to heal from your injuries, your parents break news to you and your siblings. You're moving away. Far, far away. Across the great ocean to a clan that calls the sea their home. You go to find Awpxey after your parents finalize their decision. Now Awpxey is choosing his own. Stay at the forests of Pandora, or move across the sea with you.

Warnings - i don't think there's anything significant?, trying to talk back, jake's mean for like a second, arguing, crying, cute bf & gf moments, kissing, admiring, swearing, moving, decisions, stress, grandma - granddaughter talk, advice

The last bit of swelling left your face over the last few weeks. Talking was a bit easier now and you could see clearer.

Just a few days ago you were able to go back to your family’s hut.

You don’t know what compelled your mind to make you think you would be staying there for long.

It was a supposedly “normal” day. You were used to the silence that sat around the hut, your family not talking to each other much.

You felt almost estranged, you were feeling so happy and energized now at the fact you were healed. But it was as if everyone got used to how it was while you were injured.

It was always silent.

It made your happy mood deteriorate. And in doing so, it ruined your happy thoughts. So it only left you feeling sad.

Just like everyone else.

But on this “normal” day. Something still felt off. The air felt stiffer then usual, it was something with your parents.

They had been off since the whole situation, but something told you, something else caused this.

It was around lunchtime when your mother called everyone to the table. Thinking nothing of it, you all sat in your usual seats, waiting.

After sitting in silence for sometime your father spoke up.

“We’re moving.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“What do you mean we’re moving? Like to a different hut or-” He cut you off.

“We are moving.” His voice became harsh. “Far away. We need to get out of here. We’re set to leave tomorrow. And I’m stepping down from Olo’eyktan.”

Your heart dropped, your mouth opening in disbelief.

Moving? Far away? Stepping down? What is going on?

“What?..” Your voice came out in a quiet whisper, tears building but you tried your best to blink them back.

Your mother put her head down, looking at her lap.

“Mama is he being serious?” You looked between your mother and your father. Trying to ignore the tears that left your siblings.

“I’m being serious Y/n. This isn’t some kind of joke.”

You didn’t want to believe him. You didn’t want to.

You shook your head, “we can’t just leave here.” You motion your hand to the hut.

“This is all we know! This is the only place we call home!” Your mother’s hand went up to her eyes.

“I know that Y/n, but there’s nothing we can do-”

“Yes there is! There is, you can’t just give up so quickly!”

“It is not safe here-”

“So fight back!” You stood leaning over the table.

“We can’t!” Your father mirrored your actions.

“We are not equipped enough, there is not enough of us. There’s no, “fighting back” we can do.”

You still shook your head.

“You’re Toruk Makto, gather the other clans! Do everything you did those 17 years ago and fight back!”

“It’s not the same! Do you even understand how many people we lost back then? Because of that War? Thousands of the people died fighting for their land!”

“Exactly! So the loyal Na’vis, and the ones who can participate can join and fight back! We’re not leaving here!”

“We are Y/n! And that’s final!”

You wanted to hit him.

Never in your life had you ever wanted to strike your father.

But you wanted to right now, and wanted to hit him hard. Knock him straight.

But you turned and left. Walking out the hut and ignoring the few calls of your name by your siblings and your father.

You wanted to escape. Wanted to be down in the forest and accept the comfort of The Great Mother and her creations.

But you couldn’t.

Those evil demon bastards are infiltrating your home and destroying the land around it.

They’re taking your home away. And because of that, you had to leave.

You don’t know where you were going, your feet walked you in whatever direction and you let them.

You didn’t feel as if you were living in your body. You felt so disconnected and far away, wishing for the comfort of somebody, the embrace of somebody.

When you found yourself at the entryway of a hut, you finally looked up.

You were at Awpxey’s kelku, and that made you crack a small smile. But it dropped as you remembered what you now have to tell him.

You were met with his back, he was facing the other way as he fiddled with something in his hands.

He was alone in the hut. And he must have felt your presence as he turned his head around.

His eyes lighting up as he saw you.

It all only made your heart hurt more.

He then realized your solemn expression and stood up, walking toward you slowly.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” You let out a sob as you ran into his chest, his warm skin only coaxing you to cry more into his chest.

“What’s wrong yawne? Talk to me, I’m right here, right here with you, okay?”

You couldn’t even stomach the fact you would have to tell him you’re leaving.

Where is that going to leave the two of you? Do you have to break up now as there is no way of communicating?

“A-Awpxey..” You cried, squeezing him closer to you as you hiccuped and sobbed.

“It’s okay Y/n, talk to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.” All you could do was quickly nod into his chest, continuing to cry.

Once you felt that all the tears were somewhat out your system, you took a deep breath.

“I-I have to tell you something Awpxey.” Your chest stuttered as you felt your eyes cloud again, but you only rubbed the feeling away.

“Okay, you can tell me.” He nodded, running his hands through your hair.

“Come sit on the floor with me, right here okay?” You held his hand as you let him guide you to sit on the floor with him.

Your hands shook with a frenzied tremor, wiping your eyes you took another deep breath before looking into Awpxey’s eyes.

“I-I’m moving Awpxey.” You swallow as you try to breathe. “Really, really far away. A-and my dad is stepping down from being Olo’eyktan, and I don’t know what to do.”

You started to cry again, and only tucked your face into the crook of Awpxey’s shoulder.

“I don’t wanna leave.” You sobbed.

Awpxey rubbed your back as he was trying to process the information.

“I’m going with you.”

You froze, silence encompassing the hut, the only thing really being heard were your rough shallow breaths.

“What?” You sat up, looking straight at him.

“You’re doing what?” You blinked at him quizzically.

“I am going to go with you. I do not care if you don’t agree.” You opened your mouth shocked.

“Awpxey, what? N-no you can’t come, I can’t let you do that, no.” He has his family here, his parents, he can’t just leave them.

“Awpxey you can’t just leave, what about your parents? You’re not just gonna leave them are you?”

“I would. Just for you.” You gasped at his words.

“I love you Y/n, I love you so much. I See you. So I’m going to go with you.” He caressed your cheek.

“I want to mate with you one day, I can’t just leave you.” You leaned forward, kissing him as a way to express your love for him.

“But you haven’t even asked them yet Awpxey. What if they say no?”

“Knowing my parents? They’ll definitely say yes, they probably want me to move out anyway.” You stared at him, scared of how nonchalant he sounded.

“And what if they don’t want you to? What if they want you to stay here with them so they know you’re safe?”

Awpxey shook his head. “They are not like that Y/n, trust me.” You knew he was — somewhat — right. Itxä and Puo are two very understanding people. And always wish what is best for their son.

Which in their book, you are.

“They’ll definitely let me go with you. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. My dad didn’t say when, but knowing him.. It’s definitely in the morning.” You let out a broken chuckle, trying to revert your mind from the subject at hand.

Awpxey continued to rub your back. You felt his eyes on your face and could see him staring from your peripheral.

“What?” You said with a giggle as you turned towards him.

“Nothing.. Just looking at you.” He smiled as he continued to look.

“Why?” You asked, feeling a bit embarrassed by how lovingly he was looking at you.

“Because I love looking at you.” You felt a heat tread into your cheeks. “You know Y/n, I don’t think you take all the credit you get for your beauty.”

You tilted your head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“You are just so beautiful. And sometimes I feel like when people tell you that, you don’t believe them.” You chewed your lip, knowing that what Awpxey was saying was true.

“You’re very observant.” You nodded. “Got it from you.”

You smiled, “really?” You asked mockingly.

“Yeah, got it from that people watching you taught me.” You felt a bit shocked.

He actually started doing that because of you?

“You actually started doing it?” He nodded, “why wouldn’t I? It’s actually very fun, entertains if you will.”

You laughed, “you’re becoming a little mini me!” Awpxey joined you in your laughter, “I wouldn’t mind becoming that.” He shrugged with a smile.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other. Looking at each other’s features.

“How do you feel about little admirer, hm?” You smiled at the tease and pushed his nose with your finger.

You could hear his tail smack lightly on the floor behind him.

“When are your parents coming home? So you can ask them? I don’t wanna be here when you do.” He furrowed his eyebrows, “why?” You only shrugged.

“It’ll make me feel weird.” He nodded but brought up another point. “Where are you going to go then? I know you do not want to go home.”

You rolled your eyes. “Too observant.”

He smiled, pulling your cheek. “Learned from the best.”

Over the next few minutes, you spent some more time together.

“I’m going to go home.. I-I have to pack my things.” You felt reluctant, you didn’t want to leave the forest, or Awpxey at the moment either.

As you both stood, Awpxey held your hand. “I know this is hard for you Y/n. But always, always know that I’m going to be here for you.” You nodded, trying to sniffle your tears away.

“I’m going to be there with you forever because I’m going with you.” He whispered teasingly in your ear. You laughed as his breath tickled your ear. “Awpxey!”

“I know, I know. Now go, get ready so we’ll both be packed by morning.” You turned back to look at him. “You’re very confident that they’ll even let you go.” You looked worryingly.

He only smiled, “I know they’ll let me go, now go back little Ms. Sully.” You laughed at the name and waved goodbye, him doing the same.

“Wait, Y/n!” You hear Awpxey call your name from behind you, making you turn around.

“Yes Awpxey? What is it?” He’s approaching you in a small jog.

“Come here.”

Before you could even get a breath out, he had grabbed your face. Smashing his lips onto yours in slow kiss.

It caught you by shock at first, but you slowly relaxed into the kiss and closed your eyes.

When he pulled away, all he had was a smirk on his face as he had seen your purple cheeks.

“You didn’t give me a goodbye kiss.” You embarrassingly cover your face with your hand, trying to hide how hot your face had gotten.

“Awpxey!” You squeal, trying to hold in your laughter.

He grabbed a hold of your wrist, trying to pry your hand from your face.

“Let me see you!” He continued to tease you as he tried looking around your face.

“Awpxey, I have to go!” You giggled.

He let you go, still laughing. “Bye Y/n.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.

For some reason you froze. Your cheeks felt hotter again as you brushed your fingertips against the spot.

You smiled sheepishly, shyly leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye Awpxey..”

It was Awpxey’s turn to mirror everything you had just done.

You smiled at him before turning and leaving, the soft smile still stuck on your face.

While you walked home, you couldn’t feel nothing but dread as your hut came into view.

Eywa, how bad you didn’t wanna be here right now.

When you walked in, everyone glanced at you, but you paid no mind to that as the only thing that took your attention was your home.

What used to be your home, at least.

All you saw was the inside of your home, technically completely empty instead of all of the things that were yours that were left in place.

Every movement that was made echoed, and it made your heart slow.

You were actually leaving. Your parents are really making you leave home.

“Come on Y/n.. Pack your stuff.” You heard your father’s gruff voice behind you.

Tears clouded your vision, and you clenched your fists tightly as your breath picked up. The pain in your palms went unnoticed as your fingernails continued to dig into the skin of your palms.

But you decided not to act on your emotions.

So you took a deep breath and started to pick up your things.

Minute after minute, your chest ached more and more as you had to pick up all the memories of your home.

When you were finished, you had a good two bags full to the top full of all your items.

Tops and loincloths, jewelry, and trinkets. The bags held everything.

Everything you’ve ever known, ever loved.

“Where are we going to sleep? Since there’s obviously nothing in here, for us.” You knew you were being sour.

But you had every right to be.

Your life is being taken away from you. How are you specifically supposed to feel?

You felt this feeling of hate, towards your father.

What did he want you to do after telling you, you all had to move away? Prance around and dance?

You had a sneer on your face as you waited for his answer, tapping your foot on the floor, urging him to hurry up.

“We’re going to stay at your grandmother’s hut.” He sighed and you felt a pang of guilt run through you as you seen him pinch the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut as if to think.

“She’s being kind enough to let us stay there.. So let’s say thank you to grandma when we see her okay?” The small childish tone was obviously directed towards Tuk.

She was still too young to barely even comprehend what is happening right now.

She smiled up towards Jake, nodding excitedly.

“I love staying at Grandma’s house!” The words made your stomach hurt.

Does she even know this will be the last time she’s staying over there?

You decided to just step in. “You sure do, don’t you?” Grabbing her hand with a small smile and leading her out the hut. Trying your best to just get the night over with.

The rest of your siblings followed reluctantly, knowing what they have to do once the night is over.

Knowing they will never come back to their home.

It all felt unreal, it was unexpected, and it was too rushed. You felt as if the decision was rushed.

You wondered if your parents even really thought about what they were doing. You would have never thought that, that night in the forest would lead to this.

The last experience you had in your homeland was miserable. You were beaten to a pulp, the last thing you saw was the trees, and the beautiful night sky you loved.

You felt as if you never were actually even able to bask in the beauty of your home. You try to pull your mind of all the memories you have in the forest. But you’re barely pulling any, all you can think about is that night.

If this was planned earlier you felt like you maybe could have done something else. Do something else, be someone else.

You love it here. You want to stay here.

But you can’t.

Because now you’re moving away. Moving away to somewhere cold. You’re moving away to somewhere that you have to become a different person, act a different way, and practice different customs.

You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want it to come to this.

All the things you could have done. Time was lost. There was too much lost time. You could have been running with the wind through the forest just yesterday, happy to be in the environment your Great Mother had created. Even with the knowledge you’d have to be leaving the very next morning.

Or if you hadn’t even went on that little outing. You could have been sitting in your hut, full of everything that it had before. Making bracelets with Kiri and Tuk.

So much lost time.

Before you even blinked, you were at your grandmother’s hut, walking inside. You don’t even remember walking over here.

This is not how you wanted your last night here to be.

In a blur, you were all setting up your sleeping mats. There was barely any small talk between everybody, small words being exchanged here and there.

You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to implant the smell of all the herbs deep in your lungs.

You loved the smell.

It was so nostalgic, a smell you always loved since you were a child coming to see your grandmother, Mo’at.

You loved her so much. You didn’t want to leave her. Your eyes watered for the umpteenth time that day as you thought about the fact you were leaving family behind.

Mo’at watched you keenly, studying you body movement, it’s language.

She knew you were angry, she can feel it coming from you. She felt it before you even arrived. And she didn’t want her granddaughter to have such hate in her heart.

She planned to talk to you when everyone fell asleep, which she knew would be soon.

A few minutes later, everyone was saying goodnight as the climbed into their mats. For about an hour, all that was heard was the shuffling from all of you tossing and turning.

Slowly, everybody around you fell asleep one by one. You sighed as you sat up, rubbing your eyes trying to produce some sort of feeling of on-coming slumber.

You gasped quietly when you looked up, only to see your grandmother sitting up, staring directly at you.

“Y/n.” She said expectantly, her small smile barely visible from the dark engulfing the room.

“Grandma.” You stated, your words floating in the air as they reached her.

“Hm.” She said, turning her head while her smile grew.

You are telling her everything she needs to know already.

“Come, come over here child.” Mo’at’s hand beckoned you to come closer as she got up and moved from her mat. Heading toward a small private area of her hut.

You stood quietly, stepping over the sleeping bodies of your siblings before silently standing before your grandmother.

She patted the spot next to her, “sit with me?” A small smile flashed on your face as you nodded, taking a seat next to her on the sitting mat padding the ground.

“What’s going on grandma? Why aren’t you sleeping?” She looked towards you, a look on her face.

“Why are you asking me questions I’m going to ask you?” She shrugged as she ignored what you had asked her. She chuckled, “what is going on with you Y/n? Though I already know what.”

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you looked at her questioningly.

“What do you mean Grandma?” She laughed silently again.

“Because you make it obvious. Your body, your eyes, your ears, your tail, your heart.” Your grandmother shook her head, “your soul is vulnerable, you are technically putting it on display.”

Not really knowing what to say, you only responded with a feeble, “sorry grandma..” That made her laugh quietly again.

“There’s no need to apologize for something such as that. You are sad right now Y/n, very sad.” Her hands came up to your head, threading her fingers through your hair softly.

You could only nod in agreement, not knowing the fact your feelings were so presentable.

"I know why you are sad Y/n." Mo'at whispered next to your head. A solemn look in her eyes as she continued to brush her fingers through your hair.

You gave a broken chuckle as the tears started to cloud your eyes once again. "What is making me sad grandma?" You asked sarcastically.

This made Mo’at frown, she felt a strong pity for not only you but herself too. She knew that as soon as all of you left, she would be and feel completely miserable.

But she couldn't act on her emotions because all she could do was hold it all together for the sake of the people.

What would the clan do if their Tsahìk was completely low with grief? Mo’at had — no has — a lot to grieve for, but she has no time to grieve.

No time to think.

She’s quick with what she has to do, always by herself — mostly not — with her thoughts.

She tries her hardest to not think about those days.

Those days in which everyone was a bit younger.

Those days when her whole family was still together.

“You’re leaving..” Mo’at whispered as her nimble fingers continued to brush your hair.

“And I know you’re very sad to leave. Leave here, your home.” She pursed her lips as she tried to fight her tears.

“Grandma.” You whispered out in a breath of realization. “I’m sorry grandma I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

You sat up straighter, placing your hand on her back before she chuckled. She pulled your hand off by your wrist.

She held your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckle as the tears fell from her eyes.

Yours following soon after.

“I remember when you had just made it into this world..” She smiled at the memory as she rubbed your knuckles.

“Your cries were piercing, very loud. But you never cried much.” She squeezed your fingers.

“You are still very quiet now Y/n. But promise me, when you leave here and you join this new clan. Promise me, you will use that same exact piercing voice when someone does you wrong.” She looked deep into your eyes to show the sincerity of her ask for promise.

You nodded, “I promise grandma. I promise I will, if they either do it to me or anyone else.” She smiled.

“Remember that boy you yelled at all those years ago? During your craft class?” You laughed quietly at the memory.

“Son’tuk?” You giggled as you thought of the boy.

“Mhm, that was the very first time you had used that strong voice of yours for defending yourself. You always stayed quiet to yourself. You still do now obviously.” She rolled her eyes.

“But before when you were younger it was.. Worse.” You grimaced as all the memories of your younger self came back.

“Everybody was so shocked. You had become so loud, I didn’t even expect it.” She laughed.

“What did you tell at him for again?” You curled your lip to a sneer.

“He was talking about me, Kiri, and Lo’ak. Specifically our hands. He was shit-talking right in front of me, to me! And I told him to stop multiple times and he didn’t.” You shrugged.

“Well, that day made history!” You both giggled.

For hours after that, you and your grandmother spoke about anything and everything.

After a bit, your eyes became heavy, that familiar pressure behind your eyes. You tried your hardest to fight it, because you knew this would be your last night here.

Your last night to enjoy these moments with your grandma.

You wanted to savor every single second, but the stress from the day and the continuous conversations started to make you feel exhausted.

“G-grandma..” You whispered before falling asleep against her, she laughed quietly. Looking down to your face and examining your soft but fierce features.

“Oh how I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so much.” Mo’at whispered as her eyes watered. Her breath was shaky as she combed your hair with her fingers.

Leaning down she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll love you no matter where you go Y/n. You are forever my first grandchild.” Tears platted down onto her thighs, and she slowly wiped her eyes so they wouldn’t worsen.

Minutes later, Mo’at began to drift off and fell asleep also.

Hi!! So I’m going to continue this on in another story obviously!! But I wanted to start working in the other one right when this one finished so I can post them both like on the same day? Probably might not be smart, but regardless!! I didn’t want to do the whole nine yards of the Sully’s meeting the Metkayina, it would end up being wayyy to long. But I hope you all enjoyed the story!! Sorry if there are any spelling errors! Thank you so much for reading 🤍!

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