#have never felt worse about being caught before I've recorded something fully

[inafieldofdaisies]

Far Cry 5 (2018) | Replay in 2023 | Funny moments (vol. 8) | Sing for me, Peggie(s)

[peculiar0ne]

okay

so for the record because i've never officially mentioned it- i have a chronic illness. it is (as of currently due to financial reasons) undiagnosed, but that's besides the point.

it mostly affects my legs, they're always in some sort of pain. tolerance has gotten lower over the last few months and my cane that i only used on my worse days quickly became almost useless, except as an assistant in getting up and down stairs in my apartment. i recently was lucky enough to be able to have my friends scrounge up enough cash so we could get me a wheelchair, as my health has declined so rapidly and i was losing most of my independence, having to rely on my boyfriend for most basic things.

i was able to take a day trip with some of my friends just yesterday, it was not only my first time using my wheelchair in public (minus a literal 5 minute walmart trip the day i got it), but also my first time using it in a completely different place from home. we were in a town that we all travel to quite frequently, but because of how far away from home we were (hour 45 minutes), and the fact that my comfort person, my boyfriend, was back at home stuck at work, it was extremely difficult for me to enjoy my day the way i wanted to.

because yesterday i experienced my first ableism encounter(s) since becoming an ambulatory mobility aid user in general. i've had ableist comments over my autism, adhd, and ocd countless times before...but this stabbed me right through the heart.

i've had my wheelchair for i believe 4 days in total now, i'm still getting used to it and i still have very mixed feelings about myself having to use it (internalized ableism, but mostly just fear of not being independent enough). i have already sat and cried countless times, worrying that my partner will eventually give up on me because of how dependent i'm slowly becoming...

yesterday i was in a location in which i have always felt safe in with my close friends. i've visited said place over 30 times in my life because it's so close to home, and not once have i had a moment where i've had to stop to sit and hold back tears.

tears of rage i think, mostly.

but also devastation. i knew ableism was shitty especially to those of us who are visibly disabled in some way shape or form (whether that be using a mobility aid or being a fancy walker, etc.), but holy fucking shit i am absolutely in ruins over what humanity has become.

i was wheeling alongside one of my friends to go to a store in our favorite mall while our other two friends stuck behind at the arcade, which we all agreed to meet back up at. when leaving the store to quickly visit another one, i heard a group of three boys saying "tokyo drift" behind us.

at first, i pushed it aside. i figured they were just pointing out something or watching some sort of clip on their phones. but then when i glance behind me, as i have caught myself doing as a cautious approach to still not being fully used to my chair, they're smirking cockily at me.

again, i push this aside.

but i shouldn't have because the moment i turned back around i hear "they see me rollin'", followed by a chorus of immature giggles, and the boys running away laughing and looking back at me and my friend.

i immediately dropped any evidence of happiness on my face. i was disgusted with myself. honestly it's only been 12 hours, i still am pretty disgusted with myself even though all i was doing was minding my own business.

now, my friends that came with all either have adhd or autism, much like myself. the specific friend i was wandering the mall with at the time has selective hearing because of her adhd therefore she did not hear these horrid comments, but she looked over to me and asked what was wrong.

i tried NOT to sound like a dick but lowkey i kind of growled when i told her what happened and she just death glared them and then took me to build-a-bear (our original destination) and bought me a kuromi plushie to cheer me up.

fast forward about an hour, the four of us are just finishing dinner in the mall food court. at this point, i was still upset but i had cheered up a little as my mind was able to be elsewhere for a while.

just as we're getting ready to go to the arcade, i'm falling a tiny bit behind. but the arcade is about 100 feet away so it's not a huge deal, right?

wrong.

two other boys, completely separate from the three earlier, look down at me with stupid grins on their faces and say "do a trick!" as they're walking away.

again, my friends were a bit ahead of me, and we're in a crowded food court so they didn't hear.

thankfully they all spend the rest of the night trying to cheer me up (i do not deserve them) but i'm sitting here typing this and trying not to cry.

it's so stupid.

but the stupider thing?

all five of these guys were ranged 18-25 at most. one of the guys in the first group looked to be 16, but i'm not sitting here about to assume that shit. it just devastates me that these people can just look at someone in a wheelchair and think "OMG THAT'S SO FUNNY GUYS" and all his friends will fucking agree.

disabilities are not funny.

mobility aids are not a joke. mobility aids are necessary for us with disabilities to get around.

honestly, i hope you don't look at your grandfather in a wheelchair and start laughing. because there's really no difference there besides age.

just grow the fuck up and start respecting us disabled folks.

that or kindly go fuck yourself!

thanks for coming to my tedtalk, i will now go contemplate my life and worry about my crippling medical bills :)

[dawnarowdite]

Lovely (What They Don’t Understand)

Chapter 2

—————

"Ayo Smii7y welcome back," a voice called out as a teen waltzed into the room.

"What up Wildcat," Smii7y smiled as he placed a bag on the table. The bag slumped to the side, weighted down by the number of items in the sack. Smii7y had a pretty good run tonight. The Millers are always gone so Smii7y never has to worry about getting caught. It’s an easy in-and-out heist, perfect for a casual day.

"You got anything good," the tall man asked, walking towards the bag Smii7y brought in. Wildcat, also known as Tyler, was Smii7y’s second in command. He has known Wildcat since Smii7y first started his record. They didn't have the best lives, but he was glad that Tyler had stuck by him throughout everything. The taller peered over the table, eyeing the new treasure that the shorter brought into the base.

"Of course, the fucking Millers are so fucking easy to steal from," he responded taking a diamond out of the bag. Smii7y felt Tyler playfully mess his hair around, before pushing his head away to get a better look inside the bag. Smii7y laughed at Tyler’s eagerness.

"Oooooh goodies," a voice cheerfully said as he saw the bag.

"Ah ah ah, Marcel you know you can't have anything I take," Smii7y said. Marcel, also known as Basically, was the newest member of his little gang. He was almost finished with his training, but Smii7y knew he wasn't ready to go out.

"But Smiiiitttty you hardly ever let me go out and steal," Marcel jokingly whined using a different version of his nickname. Smii7y rolled his eyes playfully.

"And the reason for that is that you're still the newest one here and you're not ready," Smii7y casually replied, making Marcel pout.

"Come on Marcel, maybe you'll go on a heist soon," someone added from behind the three. Evan walked closer to the group standing in the middle of the room. Smii7y smiled at the entrance of the familiar Asian man.

"Evan, you know that'll never happen," Marcel dramatically complained, making Evan chuckle. Smii7y knew Evan just as long as he knew Tyler. He's been there from the beginning and was probably his first friend in this business. He would consider Evan to be his best friend, but he wouldn't tell Tyler that.

"Anyways, I've been thinking of trying something bigger, something more grand if you will," Smii7y grinned.

"Oh do tell Smii7y," another person, who went by the name of Scotty, said joining the room. Scotty, also known as 407, was their hacker. He'd find out people's security and disable them as much as he could. He licked him up somewhere along last year.

"I want to steal from the Keyes residence," He revealed. Smii7y expected laughs and cheers however the room went completely silent.

"No," was the first thing that came out of Tyler's mouth.

"Wait what? Why," Smii7y laughed out in shock at his friend’s sudden disagreement.

"Because you know how dangerous their security can be," Tyler argued.

"So what I've dealt with is so much worse than that. I can definitely handle a few security cameras and alarms," He argued back. Smii7y was very confused. Usually, his friends would fully be on board with trying out a new venture. For them to suddenly shut down his plan was extremely out of nowhere.

"He's not ready to see you," Marcel mumbled softly.

"Wait, who's not ready?" Smii7y asked, Smii7y never heard of another person being at the Keyes residence. He thought there were only Mark and Angela Keyes who lived there, but there was another? Smii7y needed to know more about this mysterious boy.

"No one," Evan said, shooting a glare toward Marcel. Marcel avoided his gaze nervously. Smii7y raised an eyebrow at his friends. Smii7y knew his friends were hiding this person from him, something that only fueled his burning curiosity.

"Come on guys you can tell me," Smii7y said, getting excited about the possibility of meeting someone new, he was looking for someone new to mess around with.

"No, because we know what you'll do considering your past," Jay said, making Smii7y smirk.

Smii7y was prone to find someone, either male or female, to lead them on and leave them high and dry. It started when he was 15 and has been doing it for 2 years. He found it so much fun to manipulate them into falling for him, it was his favorite pastime, behind stealing of course. "Whaaaat me never," he denied, still wearing a smirk on his face.

"I'm serious Smii7y if you go to Keyes you'll regret it," Tyler threatened.

"Alright, alright I won't go to Keyes's residence, I promise." Smii7y rolled his eyes annoyed. He smiled sweetly and crossed his fingers behind his back, he was not going to give up that easily. His friends nodded in confirmation before diving into a conversation. Smii7y didn't miss the threatening glare that was thrown his way from Tyler, but he decided to ignore it. Smii7y ran his hand through his rough silver hair, fixing his messed-up hair into something neater. Smii7y smiled, Now he definitely has to meet this person whom his friends are oh so trying to protect.

—-

John hates school, but he hates staying home more than actually learning. Of course, he doesn't really learn anything. He's learned everything since he knew how to talk. It's a bit over-exaggerated but he still knew a lot of things. He wasn't even supposed to go to school either, but he managed to convince his parents that attending school would allow good publicity.

He even got to choose what school he went to, something that he never knew would ever happen. Of course, he chose a public school, much to the dismay of his parents. But he convinced them by reasoning that one day when he took over the business, he could scout out potential people to work for them at his school. They patted him on the back and said how proud they were that he was thinking of the business. But John wanted to make a life of his own, hoping no one would recognize him, but his parents insisted the limo driver take him.

He didn't make many friends, only a couple. His first friend was a guy named Cameron, but he calls himself Fitz. When he first stepped out of his limo Cameron approached him and said: "I am now your new best friend, oh rich person." Being Fitz's "new best friend" caused him to meet his other friends. There was Eric, or Swagger, who he has to admit is a bit crazy all the time. But he was high all the time so John couldn't blame him. If he could be high all the time, he would probably be happy. Then there was Mason, or Zuckles. He was the guy everyone made fun of but still is a cool guy. John then met someone named Tobi. She was very good friends with John’s group of friends, and she sometimes hung out with his friends. However, she was usually gone hanging out with her girlfriend instead, but she was always a blast to be around and was super funny. Lastly, there was Jay or McCreamy. Those are the main guys he hangs out with. Of course, he also has Tyler, Marcel, Scotty, and Evan but they hardly have time for him. He will always consider them close friends, but he likes the group he's with now.

"Hey hey John, watch me make this in Swagger's mouth," Fitz said excitedly as he held a piece of popcorn. Swagger was asleep with his mouth open, and they always took the opportunity to just throw random food in there. "And he shoots... and he misses," Fitz said pouting as the popcorn landed on his cheek.

"Alright, alright let a professional handle this," Zuckles said as he took aim.

"And he misses as well will anyone put their popcorn in Swagger's mouth," John said in an announcer voice making them chuckle.

"Clearly it's all up to me," McCreamy said as he took aim. He tossed the popcorn, and they all watched in anticipation to see if it would land or not.

"And it's good!" John cheered as it landed in Swagger's mouth. They watched Swagger blink awake. John found it comedic at Swagger’s delirious state of mind.

"What?" Swagger asked, sleepy as he chewed on the popcorn.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Fitz said dreamily.

"What year is it?" Swagger asked. He blinked slowly and turned his head around. John found it comedic, fighting the urge to laugh at the delirious man.

"It's still the same year dude," John laughed.

"Oh wake me up never then," Swagger mumbled, trying to go back to sleep. The boys all laughed at Swagger’s neediness to sleep.

"So, John, how are the rich parents?" Zuckles asked, turning over to the blond.

"You know the same, gotta act super posh and all that," John said, taking out his vape and taking a hit. A sweet watermelon taste filled his senses, and he felt the nicotine calm his nerves. Swagger peeked an eye open and held out his hand to John, asking for a hit. John laughed as he handed the sleepy man his vape. Swagger took a hit and lay down on his back, blowing the vapor into the air.

"It must be nice to have rich parents," Jay sighed and John slightly flinched; however, it went unnoticed. He focused intently on Swagger’s vape cloud floating into the air.

"Oh yeah, I get to do anything I want and have anything I want," John said sarcastically. Of course, John wanted to tell them his life was hell. That he was struggling to just pass by each day trying to be the perfect son his parents wanted him to be. Isn't it why they had personally selected their best genes just to be in him? He was supposedly the perfect son and yet he rather be anything than that. Maybe the doctors messed up and gave him the want for freedom. Swagger returned the borrowed vape back to John, seemingly finished with it. John grabbed it and stared at it in his hands, flipping the cartridge over and over again.

John must have had a distant expression on his face because Fitz noticed something was up with John. "Hey, are you okay dude?" Fitz asked softly. John looked over at him. He noticed Fitz wore a weird expression; it was different from his normal joking and fun personality. This was something out of curiosity, concern, and strangely enough, understanding. John was about to reply when a limo had pulled forward. He quickly stashed his vape and mumbled a small goodbye to his friends. They waved at him as he entered the car.

"You have an appointment with the Thompson's son and then later you have piano lessons. You'll be able to do your homework after the lessons and then you have a free day young sir," his limo driver said as John settled into the luxurious car.

"Alright thank you, Kevin," John replied in a monotone voice.

John noticed from the rearview mirror that his limo driver was frowning at him. He loves his staff; they take care of him. They always seem to worry about him; he considers them his real family, not the parents who quote on quote raise him. But every time he ever showed kindness towards the staff he was reprimanded with the words: "Don't be nice to the help. They get paid for what they do, that's why they're the help."

Overall he hates his family and their beliefs in everyone. They believe that anyone who isn't rich isn't an important person. That is why his parents didn't know his school friends. They only know Tyler, Evan, Scotty, and Marcel but that's because their parents are among the rich. They're pretty much the only friends he could have but he's glad to have this part of his life a secret.

"We'll be arriving in ten minutes young sir," his car driver said but John didn't respond. He might as well merely stare out the window for the rest of the ride. He knows he isn't going anywhere soon.

—————

[techni-kolor]

Strep, Surprise, and Spiced Tea

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771862 !!!

"Oh, and I brought your tea for you, it's the same blend you liked last week. The one with the cinnamon, and the orange peel, and the little bits of cardamom."

Martin smiled awkwardly, placing the cup down on the desk with a soft click.

"I know you enjoyed this one so I, well, I made sure to get another box of it, just so that we'd have it."

Jon stared up at him, and then at the faintly steaming cup of tea

The cup of tea that was his absolute favorite blend, one that was hot and spicy and amazing, and that at any other time would have been delicious, had his throat not been absolutely burning. The ache that had been lingering there for days solidifying overnight from a bit of a cold that he could easily hide behind a few half stifled coughs and the dryness of the stale air in the archives, to a near firey pain that raced down from his jaw to his chest with each swallow.

"Yes, erm, thank you, Martin." He said as clearly as he possibly could, despite the way that the words seared up his throat. "I'll– I'll definitely try it– try it later."

Martin's face shifted to an anxious expression.

"Is it still a bit too hot right now? I tried seeping it in just a bit of a higher temperature than usual, but I wasn't sure if it would be too warm or not."

Jon froze, as much as the feverish tremors would allow.

"No, no. It looks, er, okay."

Martin's face creased further in a way that looked nervous, and just on the wrong side of apprehensive.

"Is there something– something else wrong with it then?" He asked, sounding almost jittery with anxiety.

Jon mentally cursed himself, and his own lack of foresight. Had he simply said that it was too hot for immediate drinking, he could have left it to cool on the desk under the guise of the heat, and then discreetly disposed of it later when he felt less as if he were swallowing glass shards. Now, Martin was staring nervously at him, wringing his hands, and fidgeting in front of the desk in clear apprehension.

"No, no. It's–" He broke off, not just due to the sharp ache at speaking, but also that he didn't have an excuse that didn't involve the phrase 'I've caught a cold'.

Martin's pale blue gaze almost bored into him with the anxious question reflected in his eyes.

"It looks– good." Jon said awkwardly, and in a movement he knew he was about to regret, raised the steaming cup to his lips and drew in a sip of the tea.

It absolutely burned, the heat of it searing a path down his inflamed throat, and stinging immensely as the flavors of the herbs touched the swelling and the red, raw patches that he knew were lining the inside of his mouth.

Involuntarily, he let out a pained cry, muffling it behind tightly shut lips as soon as he could, but still obviously just a beat too late, as Martin's face went from nervous to absolutely panicked.

"Jon! Are you– are you okay?"

Jon swallowed again, the sting of it near bringing tears to his eyes, and an absolutely vicious shiver racing through his body.

"I'm– I'm fine." He choked out, the raspy, scraping tone to his voice that he had gone to great pains to hide slipping through to hang awkwardly in the air.

"Was it– was it the tea?" Martin asked, looking still almost ready to bolt with his blue eyes near comically wide, and his lips parted in a stuttery gap.

"No– no." Jon managed to say, still blinking back the absolutely horrid combination of feverish shivering, and the pain in his infected throat. "Wasn't– it's not that."

Martin looked only faintly less panicked but a curious, and almost probing look, formed across his face.

"What was that then, Jon? Because it looked– well, it looked pretty painful."

For the second time, Jon froze.

"It– er, was just– just."

Martin's brows creased at the stammering.

"Did you hurt yourself somehow?" He asked, adding in a softer, more perplexed tone. "Not sure how you'd injure your mouth though."

Jon flashed through a multitude of lies, each one less credible than the next. That he'd recorded too many statements that morning and it had wrecked his throat, that he had cut his tongue on a crunchy biscuit, that he'd been hungover and that the acid from the vomiting had given him a sore throat.

"I– I have a cold." He finally muttered.

"You have a cold?" Martin repeated, his voice sounding both still slightly confused, as well as edging into the territory of concern.

"Yes, I've– I've been a bit under the weather."

"And your throat– it hurts bad enough that you can't even drink anything?"

"Well I can still drink some things." Jon corrected. "Just not anything too hot– or spicy, or well, too much at once, or really anything that has too much sugar."

The last traces of confusion flickered away from Martin's face, but was instead replaced by an abundance of concern.

"How long has it been that bad, Jon?" He asked, the edges of his lips down turning into a frown.

"Not since today, it– it's felt sore for a while. But it wasn't this bad until this morning."

The words didn't cause the concern to fade from Martin's expression as Jon had hoped, instead it ratched up to a level that had Jon squirming faintly in his desk chair. Feeling, for once, almost pinned under Martin's gaze and the surprisingly intense sheen of worry emanating from his blue eyes.

"How long have you been sick?"

"It's only been– well, erm, it's been a few days."

Martin's frown deepened.

"And how bad is the pain– in your throat I mean?"

"It– hurts." Jon muttered, aware that the answer was in no way informative.

"Jon, this is important, how bad is it?"

"Excruciating. It's– it burns."

"Do you know if you have a fever at all? Or have you felt sick in any other ways?"

"I've felt–" Jon mumbled. "I definitely am– well, I do have a fever. I believe it was near 38.5 degrees last night, and I've been a bit sick to my stomach."

"Jon," Martin's voice was far more intense than Jon typically heard it, not wavering in his usual anxious way or trembling. "Can I look into your mouth? It sounds like– well like you might be a bit more ill than just a cold."

Jon fidgeted awkwardly at the prospect of Martin of all people staring into his mouth, the idea feeling uncomfortable and far too invasive. But the sharp, stinging ache all down his throat was rapidly reaching a point that was near intolerable.

"Alright." He mumbled.

"Alright to check your throat?" Martin asked, still frowning.

"Yes, it's– yes."

Martin nodded, and took a careful step forward, sliding the cup, that damn cup of tea that had started all of this mess, over to the side.

Gently, he placed his hands on either side of Jon's jaw, the touch feeling uncomfortably freezing against his burning skin.

Martin frowned deeper as well as his fingertips touched the heat, but said nothing, instead gently probing at the sides of Jon's throat before lightly tapping on his jaw in a signal to open his mouth.

Jon squirmed a bit, but still pried open his jaw in a stiff, painful motion.

Martin instantly made a soft, almost hissing sound, carefully tilting his head up further towards the office's lights.

"Jon," He said softly. "That– that's pretty bad. It looks like it could be strep, especially with how sick you've been."

"What?" Jon said stupidly as soon as Martin's hands left his face. "It can't be, I'm an adult, and– and it's seemed like just a cold, just with a, well a horrible sore throat."

Martin's frown turned almost sad.

"Jon, adults still get strep, especially if their immune system isn't fully working."

"But– I never, I hadn't had it in grade school. How do you even know?"

Martin winced a bit. "Well, you've got– it's– it's pretty swollen. And those whitish patches don't really tend to happen unless you've got an infection, and it looks just like strep."

Jon sat back in the chair, slumping a bit from the absolute shock of not only getting into far too close quarters with one of his assistants, but also the idea that he could have a nasty, childhood illness.

Added to the already feverish exhaustion, and the absolutely vicious chills, he was almost tempted to simply remain rooted in the chair until he felt better, or until the archives closed for the night, which was only in about seven hours since he'd already been there far earlier than the opening.

"Jon?" Martin asked softly.

"Yeah, er– yes." Jon mumbled, glancing back up to Martin's still concerned face.

"Are you okay? Well, beyond the– well, strep."

"I'm fine, Martin."

The mixture of illness and exhaustion, and truthfully everything was just a lot.

Far too much really, and he was seriously considering the plan of remaining rooted in the desk chair for the rest of eternity, not just the rest of the work day.

"You–" Martin said haltingly. "You're going to need antibiotics. If it really is strep, it's only going to get worse and there could be complications."

Jon let out a breath, hissing at the searing pain of his throat as the air crossed the swelling. And the pus, if Martin's assessment had been accurate, however disgusting the thought might be.

"Yes, well, I'll go to a clinic this weekend."

Martin looked apprehensive again. "It's– it's not exactly good to wait that long, Jon. You really should go today, before it gets worse."

Jon felt the tug of resistance rise up at the idea of being instructed by Martin of all people, and the very idea of leaving work far before business hours were finished, but again, for what felt as if it were the hundredth time that day, the searing ache in his throat and the weight of his own exhaustion laid heavier than his pride.

"Alright, I'll go to the clinic."

"Now?" Martin asked, looking almost relieved in a way that was annoyingly sincere.

"After lunch. I need to be at least a bit productive today."

A look of disapproval crossed Martin's features, but he nodded softly.

"Alright." He said, fidgeting slightly in the odd space behind the desk. "I'll just take this, then?"

He gestured to the still faintly steaming cup of tea, "It's– well it's not exactly going to be useful now."

Jon huffed out something that would have been a chuckle if not for his swollen throat. "Yes, well, likely not."

Martin smiled awkwardly.

"I'll just take it back to the break room then, and check back– well I mean, I can come back later, before you go to the clinic?"

Jon frowned at the reminder of his plan of exiting the workday early. "Yes that's– it would be fine."

Martin nodded. "Alright then."

He turned towards the door, the mug held cradled in his hands still steaming with just the tiniest wisps of fogginess.

"Oh, and Jon?" He asked.

Jon glanced up from where he had been staring back at the statement, trying to make sense of it through the haze of discomfort still surrounding him. "Yes?"

"What are you going to tell Tim and Sasha?"

Jon groaned.

[palettememoriesofyou]

Hey! I can finally send in the ask I've been thinking about. Can you share a memory you have with Roxas? It can be good, bad, silly, romantic, whatever comes to mind first!

There’s so many I can choose from, it’s hard to pick just one… 

Let’s go with the time leading up to when he became my boyfriend. It’s a little good, bad, silly, and romantic all in one. But there’s a bit of context that goes into this. Roxas and I had been really close friends for a while and I think we had both hinted to each other of our feelings and desire to take our relationship to the next step more than once. It probably would’ve happened sooner, but Roxas was… confused about some things at the time. 

It was during a bit of a trifling time for us. I told Roxas that I never learned how to ride a bike before, so he surprised me one day with a brand new bike and decided to teach me. It was a cute surprise turned sour when I ended up spraining my ankle pretty badly. Bad enough that Roxas had to take me to the hospital, anyway. My dad found out and he was livid. He was already weary of Roxas because of his lineage, but the fact that an idea of his resulted in me getting hurt was the last straw. So he pretty much said I wasn’t allowed to hang out with him anymore. Probably needless to say, but I was not happy about that.

 Still, Roxas and I kept talking. We would stay in touch on the phone and we would video chat each other every night. We’d even fall asleep on the calls together and wake up the next day still in call. We wouldn’t even hang up unless we really had to. Like, I’m pretty sure we broke some kind of record for hours spent in a call together. 

That distance was starting to kill us, though. I think we both were starting to realize just how much we missed being together physically. Those innocent late night talks gradually became a little spicier as time went on. A little deeper… a little more intimate. Until one day, I decided enough was enough and told him to come over after my dad left for work. 

While I didn’t want to fully admit it to myself at the time, in hindsight, I invited him over because I wanted to take our relationship to the next level. I had gotten to know him so well by that point that I think I already subconsciously viewed him in the same category as I would a boyfriend. Even if we didn’t exactly have the title quite yet. So, I guess I figured it was time we consummate our relationship. I think Roxas felt the same way, even if we both pretended to act like it would just be an innocent get together like usual - deep down, we knew why we were there and what we wanted to do. 

Still, I wasn’t going to be caught dead confessing first, so I let Roxas take the lead and just prayed it went where I was hoping it would go. He seemed a little nervous, but ultimately he was the first to admit his feelings. That took the weight off my shoulders and I was able to admit that I felt the same.  

I’ll never forget it. We were sitting on my bed and our proximity was slowly but surely closing. Our lips were inches away from brushing against each other before my dad ended up barging into my room just before anything could happen. Gosh, my heart must’ve been racing a million miles a second. Dad was furious and it looked like he was close to physically assaulting Roxas had he not gotten away in time. 

I was just as livid as Dad, though. Looking back, I guess I understand a little more. It was a betrayal of his trust, and I feel bad, but at the same time… I was sick of having my life lived out for me. I was done with lacking the freedom to actually do whatever I wanted to do. So, I lashed out at him and it really put a strain on our relationship for a bit. 

Around that time, Roxas had finally gotten a hold of a gummi ship and he was ready to travel to other worlds like he always dreamt of. He called me and asked if I wanted to leave with him. I did, but I was still unsure. Dad was already mad enough, I couldn’t imagine how devastated he would’ve been if I left. But something happened that changed my mind… 

Xion. 

She ended up coming to my house and encouraged me to take up Roxas’s offer. Apparently, she had just recently confessed her feelings for Roxas but he couldn’t accept them because he told her he had fallen for someone else. It didn’t take too much rocket science for Xion to figure out that it was me. Even worse, Roxas told her there was a time when he did consider the possibility of being in a relationship with her, but assumed Xion only saw him more like a brother. But the fact that Xion had a chance and just didn’t take it was what really hurt her the most. With teary eyes, she told me not to waste my opportunities like she did. That I should seize the moment and go for what I wanted, or else I’d become regretful like her. I think that was when Xion became my best friend. 

I was running out of time, though. Roxas had to leave Destiny Islands at a certain time if he wanted to stay on schedule, so I had to hurry. I took a shower, packed up a few things, and wrote my dad a letter telling him that I loved him, but that I wasn’t going to stay trapped in my room all day because of his paranoia… 

And I ran. 

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I was sweaty, my heart was pumping, and by the time I finally met Roxas at the point where he told me to come once I made my mind, I was hunched over, breathless, and barely conscious. 

That was when I laid it all out. I told him not only that I had feelings for him. Not only that I cared deeply about him. Not only that he had become my best friend. That he had become one of my greatest support systems. My rock. The one I confided in the most. The person who could make me laugh but also stimulate my mind with our in-depth conversations....

But that I loved him. I loved him so much. God, I love him. 

And with a smile that’ll be drilled into my memory bank forever, he took me into arms and we sealed the deal with a kiss. 

“Took us long enough,” he said. 

[aghostpost]

So glad you are taking requests, I've missed your writing! Would love you to write some smut with Frank as you always include so many kinks. How about one where Frank's been gone for weeks and the reader thinks tonight is going to be just her alone again, so she decides to enjoy some self-loving, Frank turns up and watches her until she realises he's there and smut ensues?! Bonus points if he gets her to taste herself off his fingers/tongue and lots of praise kink!

A/N: I loved this request! I was already writing something similar to this (as far as Frank being gone forever and what not) but I didn’t have an ending, so this worked out great! It’s only slightly different from this request but I think it worked out perfectly. And as much as I tried to chop it down it issssss a bit lengthy hehe whoops. Hope you enjoy~ ♥

The duffle bag slung over his shoulder was heavier than it looked, but I still managed to grab it with both hands to set it beside the apartment door. I looked him up and down while his eyes looked directly past me. He seemed fine. No bleeding, no bruises on his face, or at least no new ones. Seemingly there was not one reason for him to have been avoiding me the last nine days, and judging by the way he refused to make eye contact with me, I’m sure he knew exactly what I was thinking.

I turned and headed back to the kitchen. “Go shower; dinner’s in fifteen.”

I continued stirring the green beans I was preparing as I listened to the shower stream in the bathroom. Suddenly I felt stupid and even angrier for throwing on one of his t-shirts after my shower earlier… For days I was worried sick wondering what the fuck happened to Frank. Where was he? Did he finally get caught? Even worse, was he dead somewhere in an unmarked ditch courtesy of some local mafia chapter? Then I saw him on the news two days ago and saw he was just the same as ever, wreaking havoc and dashing around the city like a mad man. That night I started using that spare key he gave me to come and wait for his return, fuming and ready to let him have it.

But seeing him now, I was dealing with a different kind of anger. It was the kind of anger where words couldn’t even begin to express how upset I was. I saw his face and felt a wave of heat radiate off me and shake through my body.

He was lucky I prepared extra food to have for lunch the next few days. I heard the shower stop running as I pulled the baked chicken from the oven, and moments after placing two prepared plates on an old crate Frank used as a coffee table he walked out of the bedroom still toweling his head. Frank Castle was by no means a salad eater but not only did he need the greens, but I used the moment to be petty because I knew the last thing he’d do was not eat every crumb on that plate. No way he’d risk getting even further on my bad side.

No words were exchanged between us as we ate. I sipped at my third glass of wine; I like to drink while I cook. I bet he’d be thankful knowing the wine was mellowing me out, but of course not entirely.

I reclined against the sofa with my plate in my lap, feet propped up on the crate and ate as I would look at him sitting on the floor. He was hovering over his plate and shoveling food into his mouth like a barbarian; I wonder what his last good meal was… I looked at Max as he made his way over to Frank, looking for a snack and probably glad to see something other than the fifteen-pound bag of kibble Frank left tipped over for him in his absence. I’m surprised he didn’t eat himself into a doggy coma.

I watched as he went to tear a piece of his chicken thigh. “Wow. Wish I got a treat for you leaving me for over a week.” He continued chewing, dropping the meat for Max to catch before giving him a rub. “I didn’t spend all evening in the kitchen to give you half my lunch for the week so you could give it to Max.”

“He’s not allowed any of our food anymore?”

“Sure, if you wanna spoil him rotten and fatten him up.”

“You never had anything to say about it any ot-”

“-Well I have something to say about it tonight. If you want I can just scrape your plate into his bowl?” He said nothing more and also didn’t give Max another bite. “Don’t forget your vegetables,” I said with a tone of warning. He quickly diverted his fork from his mashed potatoes to the salad and picked up a heaping amount, finally looking me directly in the eye as he took a bite. I rolled my eyes and focused on my own food.

It was quiet in the room save for the sounds of forks tapping against the plates and the occasional crunch of a crouton. Once Frank finished, salad and all, he rose and washed his dishes while I scrolled through my cell and continued taking my time with dinner. He stood against the wall leading out of the living room and to the bedroom hallway with his arms folded.

He waited patiently for me to finish, not moving or saying a word.

Because what could he do or say to fix this?

I placed my mess in the sink before pouring one final glass of wine, taking some sips before making my way to the bedroom. As I passed Frank he unfroze himself to take hold of my upper arm before I immediately pulled away. “Don’t.” Without warning he took my wine glass from me before bending and wrapping an arm around my thighs, lifting me from the floor and walking to the bedroom. He set the glass down on the dresser before dropping me flat on my back on the bed.

“Git. Go on, go,” he ordered, shooing Max from the room as he closed the door. This is what he usually did when we were gonna have sex. Max liked getting into bed with us so he made a habit of closing the door before things got heated up.

I rose from the bed and went to go open the door, but his massive form blocked me before I even made it halfway there. We stood there, staring at each other momentarily before I reached for my wine glass. He said nothing as he watched me gulp the entire glass, some of it missing my mouth and running down my neck. Without hesitation he moved forward to wipe the mess away, his eyes not breaking from mine. I turned from his hand and backed up two steps, staring him down before hurling the glass on the corner of the room. It was in that moment I realized a lot of my anger was based off fear.

I had been scared.

“Fuck you.” At those words he began a slow march forward as I walked backwards to the bed. When the back of my legs touched the rickety frame I sat down, watching his steel gaze as he inched closer to me. When he stood before me he dropped to his knees and looked me directly in my eyes. “Did you hear me Frank?” I spoke with bite but there was still a slight slur in my speech. “I said. Fuck. You.”

“I heardja.” Were those the first words he spoke tonight? I couldn’t remember. All I knew was hearing his voice felt like someone had finally turned the lights on in my head. Like I was staring into darkness and suddenly a camera flash went off right in front of my eyes. Suddenly I felt myself turn to stone as his hands reached my hips.

It was always odd to me when he was gentle.

I reacted the only way I knew how: with a slap.

He stared at my waist as his hands rested, but his thumbs moved in slow circles at my hip bones. “Stop it,” I spoke softly, my eyes getting heavy and my head swaying. I sighed and went to pry his hands from me. He simply used the opportunity to intertwine his fingers with mine and pull my body closer to him. “No.” He pressed his nose to the base of my neck and inhaled as he moved upward towards my ear. I was still trying to free my hands but his grip was tight and unwavering; at every movement his hands constricted mine. His stubble grazed my cheek ever so lightly and my eyes snapped shut, my hips suddenly motioning towards the edge of the bed one time to get closer to him. “Let go!” In my head I demanded it but it came out as more of a plea.

He couldn’t win this easily. He couldn’t leave me and have my mind running a mental marathon of the absolute worst series of events and come here and have me any and every way he wanted. I snapped to and while he held my hands, yes, my legs were entirely free. I rose from the bed quickly and he followed, finally releasing his grip to rip his shirt off in record timing. I couldn’t make a run for the door before he was pushing me flat on the bed, body between my legs and hands making quick work of my pajama shorts. I was too busy staring at the cuts and bruises healing on his body; long bandages meant cuts, small squares meant bullet holes. He began slowly rubbing my thighs as he stared at me. I looked back at him for a moment, anger still very present, before deciding to get rid off his jeans. I ripped his belt from the loops and unbuttoned them as I stared back into those obsidian marbles in his head. It wasn’t until I released his zipper that I broke eye contact and pushed him off of me so he could manage the rest.

“I hate you.” The words managed to trip out of my mouth with very little sting, of course because I didn’t mean them. At times yes, I hated how Frank treated me; being left to wonder whether the prick is alive or not for extended periods of time just for him to casually waltz through the door? Didn’t exactly incite warm thoughts about the guy. But did I hate him? No. I should, but I didn’t. All I could think of was how he was the exact opposite of the man my parents would want me to invest any time into. But fuck it. If I was going to be stupid enough to waste my time with Frank the very least I could do was get toe-curling sex while I was at it.

“I hate you,” I repeated as his fully naked form hovered over me like a beast ready to pounce at my slightest movement. He grabbed my arms and pulled me upright to get his beaten up black shirt over my head. My hands flew to the thick curly mess on top of his head and forced him down to me, his mouth hungrily finding my breast. Good thing I was braless; I didn’t have to wait a single second to feel this. While normally my mind would be completely wiped of anything outside of this moment, I still felt anger. More importantly, with him being here now, I realized exactly how much I missed him, and how afraid I was I’d never see him again. “Touch me.”

He trailed his mouth to my neck and pressed just below my ear. “Where?” he growled.

My hands gripped the roots of his hair as I had my first orgasm of the night. I kept quiet as a mouse and my reactions to a minimum; the last thing I needed was Frank bragging and teasing that he could make me cum with his voice alone. I guess I missed him more than I thought. No matter how infuriated I was with him my body wanted what it wanted, and it was always in the mood for some Frank.

God, that was so fucking annoying.

He was still waiting for an answer when I mustered all the strength I could to push him off of me to the foot of the bed. “Jesus Christ.” He stared at me blankly, hesitating briefly before moving to make his way back to me. “No!” I shouted, stilling him instantly. I stared him down as I gathered the flattened excuses for pillows he had and the one good pillow I brought here for when I slept over, propping them up behind me. “You don’t get to do whatever you want with me,” I told him as I reclined, resting my feet on the bed so my legs were propped up, giving him a perfect view of what rested in between. I reached a hand to feel the soaked spot in my panties before pulling them down as best as I could, only managing to free one leg as they dangled around my left knee.

I sighed as the wine hit me like a wave and looked at him as I placed a hand at my wet lips. “You think that’s okay? Making me worry about you like that?” I asked, gently rubbing myself without breaking eye contact with him. I continued that way until I needed more; punishing him was slowly beginning to punish me. “Look at what happens when I miss you,” I teased, slipping my middle finger inside myself while running my left foot delicately up his thigh, then his chest to rest pointedly on his shoulder. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” I felt his body tense slightly under my foot as my eyes fought to stay open.

I watched him, my eyes slack as I pleasured myself. I challenged him to move. I had every right to be upset and find him undeserving of fucking me, no matter how badly we both wanted it. I was a treat, and Frank was deep in the doghouse. But I say this knowing I’ll end up under him before the night was over; like I said, my body wants what it wants. Still, I could milk a docile Frank Castle while the moment lasted. “I… I needed you… Why’d you leave me, Frank?” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. He shifted forward slightly before I pressed my foot down on his chest, signaling him to stay right where he was. “Sss, what? Didn’t you miss me?” I moaned, my eyes closing as my head rolled back into the stack of pillows behind me.

He lunged for me and this time I didn’t stop him. I was ready, and more importantly than that I needed him. His hand grazed just behind my knee and my back arched as he pulled my panties from around my leg, tossing them behind him. He slowly pulled my hand to replace it with his, which was great because now I could grip the sheets for dear life. His fingers were thicker, and knew what I needed just as much as I did. Hell, they probably knew better. Two fingers filled me as his thumb gently massaged my clit as he leaned forward, his growing facial hair brushing the side of my face. “Lemme show you how much I missed ya.”

I moaned at his words, his voice getting to me again. I reached down with my hands to grab his wrist as he kissed along my jawline. I felt him pulling his hand out, begging him not to and trying to hold it in place with mine until he replaced it with his fully erect cock. “Oh, God,” I mewled, my legs wrapping around his waist instantly as I guided him deeper into me. “Show me. Sss- Please, please show me.” He grabbed my chin before gently rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip.

“Look at me,” he demanded. My eyes managed to open and I saw him staring at my mouth before before his eyes looked into mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldna left you worryin’ the way I did.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.” We stared at each other little longer and that big dumb puppy look on his face warmed my angry heart enough; at least for now. I held the sides of his head, my fingers playing with the thick hair that grew from the buzzcut he had when he left. “Kiss me already.” Instead of obliging he pulled his hand to his lips, taking in his fingers coated in my slickness as he held eye contact with me. “You dirty dog…” He winked before bending down to finally kiss me for the first time in what felt like years. And I knew exactly what he was up to, he was just too afraid to ask; knew he was skating on thin ice with me. I laughed to myself in my head as I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth, still moist with my essence. A deep growl rumbled in him and pushed himself both deeper into the kiss and into me. I released his lip to let out a small cry of pain. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to Frank’s full size, but I’d damn sure try every time he wanted. I gripped at the roots of his hair and pulled, my back arching to take in more of him.

“Ya like tastin’ yourself on me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not as much as you like making me do it.”

He cracked a crooked grin. “But yer just so good at it,” he teased, nipping at my neck. “So good at a lotta things.”

I felt my face warm up, partially from the compliments and partially from sheer arousal. “I am?” The question poured softly from my lips.

He pushed himself off the mattress to rest upright on his knees, rough hands grabbing my waist to slowly work his way in and out of me. “Amazin’,” he grunted. “Ya taste how sweet you are?”

“Mmm, like candy.”

“An’ look how good ya take me…” I placed my hands over his, holding them in place as his grip on my waist tightened, the pads of his fingers digging deep into me. He was vocal tonight, more vocal than I’ve ever heard him. I wasn’t complaining at all though, but I never really got complimented much during sex like this. It was making me feel bashful which was foreign for me. “Ya think I didn’t miss this?”

I used my hold on his wrists to pull myself up before slinging my arms around his neck, wrapping around him and burying my face in his neck. “Tell me you missed me,” I begged before I ran a hot tongue on the outer shell of his ear, gently biting it between my front teeth.

“Everyday,” he grunted. I pushed him backwards and rode him for dear life, missing the feeling of being filled to the brim by this man.I stretched my body reaching for my head, and his hands flew to my breasts, roughly palming and squeezing them. “Aren’t you a fuckin’ sight…”

“Sss, fuck, Frank…”

“That’s right, Y/N. Ride it just like that.”

I wanted more. I needed to feel him at full force. I grabbed his hands, interlacing his fingers with mine and allowing him to squeeze them. “I need you.”

“Whaddaya need? Tell me whatcha need.”

“I… I need you t-to fuck me.”

“C’mere,” he ordered, pulling me down to him. Our hands still glued together I outstretched our arms and kissed him with as much passion as I could. He growled lowly into my mouth as my tongue invaded his, bucking his hips and causing me to cry out.

“Shit!”

He never took his mouth from mine as he shot up and forced me into a straddling position. He then lifted me up and turned me around; I got on my hands and knees and grips the sheets to brace myself as best as I could, though I already knew nothing was gonna prepare me for Frank when he was on a mission. I assigned him a task and now he was going to perform and complete it. A burly arm snaked its way around my hip and a hand slid southward, petting my pussy a few times. “My eager girl.”

“Fuck you. Wouldn’t you be eager after nearly two weeks?”

He chuckled to himself. “Who said I ain’t?” he question, slowly inserting himself into me from behind. “I’m eager for ya after two hours.”

“Sss, liar,” whispered through clenched teeth. I spread my legs and bent forward until my tits were planted into the mattress, my back concave and my ass perched to the ceiling. I looked back at him over my shoulder with my eyes at half mast, drunk from both the wine and the overwhelming lust for him, seductively pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Make me a believer.”

And after only a few minutes he did exactly that. I looked over an noticed the bedroom window was cracked, but unfortunately I couldn’t shut my mouth or even attempt to lower my volume. I wonder if this would be the time that my neighbors would complain, but even the prospect of that couldn’t stop me. Things only worsened when he pulled my arms behind me and gripped at the elbows, forcing me to damn near fold as my back concaved even deeper. “Jesus Christ!” He continued that way for a bit before snaking his arms around me, running over my stomach, in between my breasts, and hand at the base of my neck. His touch exploring me felt like a lake of lava running all over me and leaving a smoking trail of black ash in its wake. ”Sss, ah! Oh… G-God, help me,” I rushed in one hot breath.

“Ya feel that?” he grunted as he bent beside me to speak into my ear.

“Yes!”

“Ya like that?”

“I love it, I love it- Ss, fuck me, I love it!”

“I betcha do. Listen to ya,” he spoke too many octaves too low before leaning back to slap my ass. I cried out even louder than I had already been which I didn’t even think possible. “Lemme hear ya,” he demanded, slapping my ass again. “Ya still love it?”

“Yes!”

“Can’t hear ya.”

“Ah! Sss, I love it, Frank. Fuck- Yes yes yes!”

“Nasty girl…” He began fucking me like a wild beast, grunting and growling deep with each stroke. His firm hand held my neck as he pulled my back to his chest, his other arm around my waist. He pulled my head backwards and moved directly next to my ear. “A very good girl, but a nasty one.”

“Oh, fu… Fuck!” My hand flew to my pussy to rub the orgasm outta me as soon as I could, since I couldn’t imagine going like this any longer before I snapped in half. I felt like I was going to pass out as overwhelmed as I was, and for the life of me couldn’t remember what I was even upset with this man over. “I-I can’t-”

“-What can’t ya do? Hm?”

“I’m gonna cum!”

He forced me to make eye contact with him, his grasp still firm around my neck. “So beautiful… comin’ from that pretty lil’ mouth.”

My hand left my clit and flew to his hair, clenching at he dark, thick curls and pulling him to me for a kiss. Well, if you wanted to call that. It was more of me trying to drain him for every drop that was in him, and him exorcising one of the top three orgasms I’ve ever had from my body. His tongue overpowered mine as my whole body turned to jelly. I tried desperately to get away from him and his overwhelming touch, but he held me tight and close to his body for a few final pumps before climaxing himself. He collapsed on top of me, his breathing like he just ran a marathon, my arms sprawled on the mattress and my face turned to the side to avoid suffocating.

We remained silent and catching our breath momentarily. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of cars outside, late night drunks leaving the bar a block away, Frank’s breathing. Finally he rolled off of me, walking into the bathroom to relieve himself and wash up; this was his routine and he never veered off from it even once. I sighed and did the same, walking past him to grab the baby wipes I kept under the sink to clean myself up. We caught each other’s eye in the mirror above the sink and held in smirks, no one saying a word to the other.

Once we were all clean and for the most part clothed, at least we put our underwear back on, Frank returned to bed on his back with an arm outstretched for me to rest my head on as I lay next to him. I liked more than anything that Frank and I could have comfortable silence. But we didn’t remain that way long; there was only one thing I needed to say before our night ended with well deserved recuperation sleep. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“What? The sex?”

I rolled at my eyes and looked up at him, waiting for him to meet my gaze. “Frank…  If this happens again-”

“-Alright alright, c’mon now- We don’t gotta make threats, hm? I hear ya.”

“I’m serious. Frank?” He sighed and tried to turn his head back to the ceiling but I redirected him to look at me again. “Never again.”

He stared at me, not a tone of playfulness in my eyes, and nodded his head. “I’m so-”

“-Ah ah… Never. Again.”

“Ya got my word.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Never again.”

We stared a moment longer before I gave him a smile and a kiss on the jaw; soft, nothing that would get us going for a round two.”You better not. Don’t think I’d take Max if you disappear either, my place doesn’t allow dogs.”

He huffed a small laugh through his nose. “Let me in there just fine.”

I rolled my eyes. I always hated when he talked down on himself. “Shut up and go to bed.”

He grinned to himself and got comfortable, closing his eyes with an arm still situated around me shoulders. “Yes, ma’am.”