#it makes me wonder if and when i live alone i can stay without a god but then id feel guilty for not worshipping

[lyraa-kill]

Sick and Twisted Bastard

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 l Chapter 5

Tags: Stalker Simon "Ghost" Riley, Trans John “Soap" MacTavish, Top Simon "Ghost" Riley, Bottom John "Soap" MacTavish, Dom Simon “Ghost" Riley, Sub John "Soap" MacTavish, Stalking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, johnny can't make himself cum, Kidnapping, Knives, John is okay with Simon's stalking, John is a little freak too, Voyeurism, Hidden Cameras, Bondage, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Painplay, Internalized Transphobia, Self-Harm, Murder, They really match each others freak, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Biting, pussy slapping, Face Slapping, Blood, Choking

——

Johnny has been living with Simon for two weeks now, meaning the end of their combined three week leave is up. He tries not to think about it, but he can’t help but wonder what will happen. Is this whole thing temporary, will he be forced to go back on base and resume his job? He hopes not.

He’s proud of being Sergeant MacTavish. He fought tooth and nail to get out of his home and become the man he knew he should be, and made a damn good name for himself too. But it wasn’t him. He never wanted any of that, he only did it because he had no other options. He was forced to be someone he knew he wasn’t all over again. Sure, it was better because at least this time he was a man, but it still wasn’t him.

He knows what he wants now. He wants to be Johnny. He wants to have a small, quiet little cabin with Simon and spend his days doing what he chooses, not what he’s being commanded by a superior to do.

Now, his head lays on Simon’s lap as they cuddle on the couch, a movie playing on the TV. They’ve been doing a lot of that. Laying around, watching something. Occasionally taking breaks to eat or fuck. Johnny’s happy at finally being relaxed, but it’s getting quite boring.

He shifts his head to look up at Simon. “Can I ask you something?”

Simon runs his hands through Johnny’s Mohawk. “What is it baby?”

“We’re due to go back to base soon. What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up?”

Simon smiles down at him. “Don’t worry about it. No one will bother us to come back.”

“But-“ Johnny gets interrupted.

“I took care of it, Johnny.” Simon leans down and gives him a peck on the forehead. “No one will bother us. Just be good for me and don’t worry about it, yeah?”

Simon’s a bit nervous for when he eventually has to tell Johnny what he did. The man has always tried to minimize civilian casualties. He’s a protector of the innocent, and Simon had to kill and dismember two very innocent people to fake their deaths.

It was hard to find two people similar enough to their body shapes to kill. Even then, Simon had to behead them and cut off any body parts that would be a tell-sign that the bodies weren’t really them. He had to hack up the rest, leave their IDs at the scene and whatnot. He thinks he faked it pretty well, if he has to be honest. He’s seen his fair share of murder scenes in the past and tried to replicate it as best as he could, for both their sakes. Him and Johnny both would have either drowned in their own misery or been killed in combat if they stayed.

“Alright,” Johnny sighs, turning back over to look at the TV, “I trust you.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny’s hair. As he looks down at his perfect boy, he knows he doesn’t regret a thing he did. He can already see how they both are healing, becoming more themselves than they thought possible. Simon is less angry, less closed-off, finds himself wanting to be alone less and less. He discovered that he loves to laugh. He loves to be held and cuddled and treated softly and gently. He never knew that about himself, because no one had ever done it before. Now that he’s had a taste of it, he’s not sure how he ever lived without it.

That monster and creature, the Ghost, he had been forced to be is fading. It’s no longer clawing at his insides to escape; it’s asleep and quiet. Maybe the claw marks it left will always be there, but eventually it’ll be gone for good. All thanks to Johnny.

Johnny no longer cries every night. He did for a little bit, but Simon was there to help him through it. The scars on his legs are healing and fading away, no new ones have been added. Though, that’s because Simon locked away any sharp objects so Johnny couldn’t get to them. The only one that will be leaving marks on him is Simon.

They watch the TV for another half hour, both of them not really watching but focusing more on each other. Eventually, Johnny turns back around.

“I think I want to draw. Paint. I don’t know.”

Simon hums and smiles down at him. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Always wanted to. I drew all the time when I was a kid. Got yelled at, so I hid it for a while. Couldn’t really do it while I was enlisted and whatnot. But… I’d like to now. I always really enjoyed it.”

“I can get you paper and pencils if you’d like, Johnny.”

Johnny nods. “I like writing too. I used to keep a journal on me before my dad found out about it and burnt it. I wanna do it again.”

“I can buy you a notebook too.”

Johnny nuzzles his face into Simon’s stomach. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I want you to be happy, baby. And if that will make you happy, then I’ll gladly do it for you.”

Johnny smiles as he looks up at Simon. “What about you? What do you like?”

Simon cocks his head. “What do you mean?” The only thing he can remember ever being passionate about or wanting is Johnny. In fact, the only thing he can remember remotely liking is him.

“Is there anything you wanna do? Hobbies? Activities?”

“I think my favorite activity is you, love,” Simon teases, kissing Johnny’s forehead and making noises like he’s pretending to eat him.

Johnny laughs, pushes Simon away, then says, “I know that very well by now you insatiable fuck. But… I want you to be your own person too. I want you to be someone outside of me. I want… I want you to be Simon and me be Johnny, and be our own people while also being in love with each other.” Johnny cups Simon’s face. That perfect, devastatingly handsome face. “I wanna know Simon. I wanna know what you’re interested in, what makes you laugh, what your feelings are, what your thoughts are. I wanna know you. Not Ghost. Not whatever you’ve been told you should be.”

Simon tears up a little bit, but manages to hold him back. “I want that too,” he says, “just as long as Johnny can belong to Simon.”

“Of course,” Johnny says back, “As long as Simon can belong to Johnny too.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny, on the lips this time. “Of course.”

They lay there and kiss for a while, eventually Johnny finding his way into Simon’s lap so he doesn’t have to keep bending over. The kisses don’t feel sexual, like they’re going to lead to something else. They only say “I love you. I love you so much and I want to know you and be with you”.

Simon breaks the kiss apart. “I’m… I’m honestly not sure what I’m passionate about. I never had a hobby or interests growing up- I think. I can’t remember my childhood. It got tortured out of me along with most of my humanity. And afterwards, I was Ghost. The military didn’t need a guy that wanted to be a person and pursue what interested him, they needed a weapon. So that’s what I was. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Yes you do,” Johnny says lightly, his face mere centimeters from Simon’s.

Simon furrows his brows in confusion.

“You do know how to be something else other than Ghost. I’ve seen it. You love making stupid fucking dad jokes about the army. Every Tuesday at 5pm you find time to sit in the common area and watch that show you like. I always catch you whittling at pieces of wood when we’re camped out and waiting for an enemy.” Johnny strokes the side of Simon’s face. “Maybe you havent found yourself fully. But I think you will. And I think you’ve found more than you think.”

Simon softly smiles and nuzzles his face into Johnny’s hand. “Thank you.”

Johnny kisses him again, gently and passionately. Maybe it’s a bit of an oxymoron to want them to belong to each other and also be their own person, but it makes perfect sense inside their heads.

They break apart and smile into each other’s lips, laughing a little bit. Johnny peppers Simon’s face in kisses before saying “I’m so happy you love me back.”

Simon laughs and holds Johnny’s hands that are cupped over his face. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect.”

Johnny kisses him one more time on his forehead before saying, “I was just scared. No one’s ever loved me before you. I would have little crushes on guys in school and they’d always reject me because they either wanted a girl or they wanted a real man. I was expecting you to react the same. I also… thought that you were out of my league a little bit.”

Simon kisses Johnny fiercely. “Never. I’ve only ever seen you for who you are, Johnny. You’re a brilliant, beautiful man. Doesn’t matter to me one bit what you got between your legs. I love you, so I’ll love whatever’s down there too.”

Simon can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t love Johnny, which makes it hard to understand Johnny’s old fears. Loving him feels as intrinsic to his being as, well… breathing. Blinking. His heart beating in his chest. He hadn’t thought of the idea of ending up with a transgender man, hell, he had only ever heard of trans women before he met the guy. But that hadn’t mattered to him. Johnny is a man, and Simon is in love with him. What parts he did or didn’t have didn’t change that fact.

Johnny’s heart skips a beat as Simon says those words. God, he’d been waiting to hear someone say that to him since he was 14 and got rejected for the first time. He’s laid awake at night dreaming about a man feeling that way towards him, until eventually he stopped dreaming and gave it a rest, declaring himself forever single.

Maybe he never really stopped dreaming.

“I love you too, Simon.” Johnny says, “And I haven’t said it yet, but by god you’re right bonnie too. When I woke up and saw you laying on me that first morning you took me here, the first thing I thought about was how gorgeous you are. You’re fucking devastating to look at.”

Simon is all smiles. He never thought he’d feel good about being called beautiful, but hearing Johnny‘s words makes his heart sing.

His face would be unappealing to most. He has a big nose with a bump in it, downturned eyes, and his lips are thin. Not to mention the scars that adorn his cheeks and chin, making him look like a mottled beast. But Johnny likes it, loves it even. Maybe he is beautiful after all. Maybe it doesn’t matter if everyone else thinks he’s ugly. Who cares if no one would want to see him on a magazine cover? Johnny loves the way he looks, and really, that’s all that matters to him.

“I remember when I first saw you on the tarmac after getting off the plane,” Simon stars, “it felt like all the tendons and fibers in my heart were attaching themselves to you. I think I made a plan that night to hack into the base’s security cameras so that I can keep an eye on you all the time. And I think a week later was when I went into your room to watch you sleep and steal your underwear.”

Johnny laughs. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

Simon smiles. “Yeah. But I don’t think you mind it very much.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Simon grips onto Johnny’s hips as they start to kiss again, forcing him to grind down on him.

“Fuck-“ Simon grunts, “I can’t remember how many times I jacked off to pictures I took of you when you were in your room, the shower, on missions…”

Johnny laughs into his mouth. “I’d love to see those pictures sometime. I gotta make sure I look pretty.”

“You always look pretty.”

They go back to kissing, Johnny grinding his sore cunt down into Simon’s hardening package. He has no idea how two men in their thirties are able to fuck so many times a day, but for some reason he’s been insatiable, like his body hasn’t got the memo he’s not 16.

Simon deepens the kiss, deeply breathes in Johnny’s scent, then snaps and throws him onto the couch on his back. He climbs on top of him and covers his entire body with his own. He loves how much bigger he is than Johnny. It makes him feel like he can shield him from the entire world as long as he’s in his arms.

“Sure your cock ain’t broken yet?” Johnny teases, “You’ve gotta be shooting blanks after this morning.”

Simon growls and bites down on Johnny’s neck. “You cannot comprehend how much I need you all the fucking time. It’s not possible for me to go dry around you.”

Johnny gasps and digs his nails into Simon’s back through his shirt. “Your dick is gonna end up killing me, Si.”

“You can take it,” Simon says, “I’ll make sure you will.”

Johnny bites down on his lip as Simon starts to add more bite marks and hickeys to his neck, joining the ones left there from that morning.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck me till I can’t think?” Johnny breathes, “till I can’t walk or open my eyes? Don’t think you can.”

Hearing that, Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s throat and squeezes, cutting off his air supply. Johnny’s hands fly to Simon’s wrist to try and take it off, but it’s a futile struggle. His legs kick, but they can’t move very much under Simon’s body.

“Not so cocky anymore, are ya Johnny?” Simon teases, his mouth curled into a wicked smile. “Can’t be such a little shit with my hand around this pretty throat of yours, huh?”

Johnny struggles to get out words as his vision starts to get a little fuzzy. Even though Simon is more than capable of killing him right now, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life.

Simon releases his grip, but keeps his hand on Johnny’s throat. Johnny gasps and huffs as his face starts to return to a normal color and his vision becomes clearer. He smiles.

“Do it again, Si.”

Simon slaps Johnny across the face as his hand slowly starts to squeeze again. “Who knew my boy was so dirty? Who knew John MacTavish was a little fucking slut that likes to be smacked and choked?”

Johnny smiles as his vision starts to fog up again. He wants to say, you knew. You knew I liked this and I needed you and that’s exactly why you’ve done all this.

Simon smacks Johnny across the face one more time before he takes his hand off his neck so he can take off his pants. Honestly, he doesn’t know why he bothered to bring clothes for either of them. They just seem to get in the way.

It’d be much better if Johnny was naked and on display for him all the time, like his little trophy.

“You think a little bit of choking and smacking is gonna do me in? I don’t think so,” Johnny laughs, trying to egg Simon on so he gets harsher, “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

Simon grunts and rips off Johnny’s boxer briefs, which are now soaked with his slick.

“I think these pants of yours tell a different story,” Simon grins, “How ‘bout I use them to shut your lying mouth up so your other pair of lips can tell me the truth, yeah?”

Simon shoves the underwear into Johnny’s mouth, the taste of himself flooding his taste buds. Fuck. He never thought being forced to taste himself would be such a turn on for him.

Simon shoves three fingers into Johnny’s hole, making him scream through the gag and grip onto the couch. He’s still pretty relaxed and loose after that morning, but taking three of Simon’s thick fingers with no warning still made his cunt burn and ache. He’s starting to fall in love with it.

Simon jackhammers away at Johnny’s cunt, his other hand wrapped nicely around his throat. He isn’t choking, just telling Johnny that he better behave, or else he knew what was coming. Although, the promise of being choked would probably make Johnny act up just so he could get it. There really is no way to punish his boy.

Well, actually, there’s one way.

Simon keeps abusing Johnny’s poor hole, until he sees the signs of his orgasm coming up. He stops just before the moment of climax, making Johnny writhe and buck his hips to try and chase his hand.

Johnny’s eyes widen. So they’re going to play this game again? That’s fine. He can take it, no problem. Edging really isn’t that big of a deal. Or at least that’s what he tells himself so he doesn’t have to admit to himself that his defeat is imminent.

Simon laughs. “Not so cocky and bratty now that you know I’m not gonna let you cum, huh?” Simon slowly strokes Johnny’s cock, making him twitch. “I’ll make you break, boy. You’ll be a mindless begging slut here soon.”

Johnny smiles through the gag and shakes his head.

Simon tears his hand from his throat and smacks him across the face, then backhands him, then puts his hand back where it was to choke him as hard as he can. Red prints in the shape of Simon’s hands are starting to bloom on his face. Simon loves seeing his marks on his boy, although a piece of him wishes they were more permanent. He’s sure there’s something he can do to satiate that craving.

Simon shoves his fingers back in, relishing in the way Johnny’s body twitches as he starts to fight for air. He loosens his grip on Johnny’s neck and lets him breathe as he really starts to pound away at him again. He doesn’t want to hurt him, after all. Just rough him up a little bit.

Just as Johnny reaches the edge again, Simon takes away his fingers. Johnny whines through the gag as his eyes start to water. Fuck, he really hates edging.

“Aww, are you ready to stop being a fucking brat, Johnny?” Simon coos, his voice demeaning.

Johnny thinks that Simon has to be a fool to think he’ll give in that easily. He shakes his head and spits the gag out. “In your dreams, Si.”

Simon sneers and quickly pushes Johnny onto the floor, grabbing his arms and pinning them to his back.

Deep down, Johnny knows he’s going to give in. He doesn’t even really want to be a brat or a little shit, he just likes when Simon gets rough with him, and being an ass is the best way to get it. He really could just ask, as he’s sure Simon would do anything to make him happy, but that’s not nearly as fun as watching him get angrier and get more violent with him because of it.

Simon spanks Johnny with as much force as he can give, which is a metric fuck ton. Johnny gasps and his back arches from the pain. Fuck. That felt like it’s going to bruise his goddamn bones.

“I know you want my cock. And you’re not gonna get it until you start apologizing and begging.” Simon spreads Johnny’s legs apart and cups his cunt with his hand, then smacks him as hard as he can.

Johnny yelps and releases noises he has no control over as Simon lays down more smacks to his throbbing pussy. His body is twitching and turning in ways he couldn’t stop if he tried, involuntarily trying to get away from the pain unleashed on his most sensitive area.

When Simon relents, Johnny is a twitchy mess with drool pouring out of his mouth. But he’s not completely mindless yet.

Simon shoves four fingers in, stretching Johnny as wide as he’s ever been. His cunt is gushing around the digits, trying to suck them in and keep them there so he can cum. As Simon fucks him with just one hand, the other raining down smacks to his ass before gripping onto his hair to pull his head back, Johnny’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and his eyes roll back into his head.

“Dirty fucking bitch,” Simon grunts, “should tie you up with a nice dildo and vibrator and leave you there for a few hours. That’ll teach you not to be a fucking brat.”

Johnny shakes his head and pushes his ass into the air.

“Want- want you Simon, please,” he says.

“Is that begging, Johnny?” Simon asks, taking his fingers out just before Johnny can cum, “Are you gonna be my good boy, then?”

Johnny nods. “Y-yes, good boy- good boy just f’you, fuuuuck.”

Simon smiles as he lovingly caresses down Johnny’s sides, admiring his bright red ass and dripping cunt.

“I know you are. You’re always my good boy,” Simon says, leaning down to kiss Johnny’s shoulder blade, “You just like when I get rough with you, yeah? Think you gotta be a brat to get it?”

“Mhm,” Johnny hums, incapable of speech.

Simon laughs. “I know, baby. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Johnny nods again, because he knows that fact is unquestionably true.

“You’ll get what you want. Gotta make my boy happy, afterall.”

Simon grabs his cock and lines it up with Johnny’s hole, and pushes it in with no resistance. He’s buried to the hilt in a matter of seconds, his fingers having done a good job to loosen his boy up.

Johnny whines as he’s filled up again, a dumb smile appearing on his face. Simon grabs his arms and pins them to his back again, his other hand grabbing Johnny’s hair and tugging his head back.

He starts to fuck into him, not bothering to be gentle at first. His boy can take any abuse Simon puts him through.

Johnny sees stars and the light of heaven as Simon pounds away at him, making the burning in his core dissipate and instead replacing it with the best pleasure he’s felt in his life. He can’t think, can’t speak, can only lay there and take it, let himself be used.

This is what he’s been needing his entire life. Someone to treat him softly, take care of him, treat him like the special and fragile thing he is, but also know when he needs to be beaten and fucked within an inch of his life.

“Look so pretty like this,” Simon grunts, “I love seeing you become my little plaything, baby. Love seeing you be my good little boy.”

Johnny nods as drool continues to dribble out of his mouth and down his chin. His body tenses as he start to cum, squirting all over Simon’s legs and the floor, but Simon doesn’t let up. He continued his brutal pace, sending Johnny into the waters of overstimulation and making him even more brainless than he was before.

Johnny cums twice more before Simon finishes for the first time, but Simon is just as insatiable as him, and once is not nearly enough. He has no idea how many times he’s climaxed when Simon relents. He doesn’t even know what his own name is or where he’s at.

Simon pants heavily as he pulls out of Johnny’s sopping cunt. He watches as his cum leaks out of his hole and mixes with the literal puddle of Johnny’s cum spread over the floor.

He smiles as he admires the way Johnny lays there, boneless and nearly passed out. A state of being that only Simon can put him in.

He has absolutely no regrets over anything he’s ever done, because all of that has brought him here, admiring his fucked out boy that makes him happier than anything else on the planet ever could.

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 5

Sgt Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Good news! Gadriel and Ellie finally have a moment to talk alone.

Bad news! That quiet moment is taking place in a Drukhari ship.

If you missed part 4, you can catch up here :)

I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but I am so grateful for all the support this series has had so far. So, all you lovely people, thank you for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting <3

Once again, I've butchered the lore a little bit. But tbh I've been doing that this entire series so hopefully you guys are used to/expect that from me by now 😅

Violence and 40kness under the cut, as well as some light ellusions to some nsfwness at the start. Apologies for spelling and grammar errors, and thank you for your support :D

Love, Memestrider xoxo

When Gadriel walked through their bedroom door, Ellicent had known right away. She'd been dreading it. Praying that it wouldn't happen. But the moment she saw the look on his face, she'd known.

"You've been accepted," she said.

Gadriel closed the door behind him. He let out a tired sigh before turning to face her once more. "I asked if I could return home to say goodbye. They were reluctant, but said yes."

Ellicent closed her eyes. Her knees felt weak, and she sat on the bed lest they give out on her entirely. "Have you told your mother yet?"

Gadriel visibly recoiled from the question. "She said she was happy; that she was proud. But I could tell it was a lie. She wants me to leave about as much as you do."

"Can't say I blame her," Ellicent said.

Gadriel gave her a sad, sympathetic smile. It only infuriated Ellicent more. Taking a seat next to her, he clasped his hands in his lap, eyes fixed on the floor as if ashamed.

"I leave tomorrow," he said quietly.

Ellicent looked at him "Seriously? When?"

"First thing." Still, he refused to meet her gaze. "You and Mum probably won't even be awake yet."

Ellicent bit her lip as a wave of tears threatened to overwhelm her. She was so angry with him. So angry. Why did he have to be so selfless? Why did his heart have to be so noble that he would do something like this for the mere chance of making her and his mother's lives just a little bit better?

"So... What happens next?"

"Well, assuming I pass all of my trials and actually become an Astartes, I can request to have you both transferred to someplace in Ultramar."

"You can request? You mean, it isn't guaranteed?"

"I don't know. It's... It's not a commonly done thing, apparently." Chewing his cheek, Gadriel clenched his hand into fists. "But I'll make it happen. I promise I will."

"You better," Ellicent whispered. "If you can't, then this whole thing would have been for nothing."

They both lapsed into silence. Heavy, tense and melancholic. Tears were flowing freely down Ellicent's cheeks now. The grief she'd been anticipating for months now had broken free of its cage, and is now sewing painful knots in her belly and chest.

Why? She continued to ask herself. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to go?

"Ellie?" She felt Gadriel's hand wrap around hers. "Talk to me. Please."

Ellicent sniffed, wiping her eyes with her free hand. She met his gaze and found that he, too, had started to weep.

Her body moved without thinking. Throwing one leg over him, she straddled his lap before pulling him into the fiercest, most passionate kiss she thinks she's ever given him. It took him off guard. So much so, he almost fell backward onto the bed. But he didn't hesitate in returning it. Sliding his hands up her back, he gripped her nape hard, pressing her into him and working his mouth against hers.

The taste of him was wonderful. His scent and touch, the closest things to bliss Ellicent had ever had. And she was about to loose him. The world was trying to take him away. A sob rises into the back of Ellicent's throat. She had to break the kiss in order to let it out. Gadriel cradled her cheeks in his hands, pressed his forehead to hers. He let her take all the time she needed to catch her breath. His own, soft exhales were warm against Ellicent's lips.

Ellicent intertwines her fingers in his hair. It's tangled and coarse, and slightly damp from the humid air outside. But to Ellicent, it's as soft and beautiful as silk.

"I want more, Gadriel," she whispers.

She feels his brows furrow against her forehead. "Do... Do you mean?"

"I do."

"Are you sure?"

She'd expected him to be hesitant. While they had shared a bed for as long as Ellicent had been living with Gadriel and his mother, they'd never slept together. Not for a lack of attraction, of course; Gadriel was easily pretty enough to pass as a high lord's son, and even before he'd started training for the Astartes, his body was a well-sculpted work of soft muscle and olive skin; and while Ellicent is less certain of her own physical attributes, Gadriel has told her time and time again how stunning her figure is, how her eyes reminded him of falling stars.

But even so, their relationship had always been built on emotional intimacy- sex was a line they were yet to crossed.

But Ellicent couldn't wait any longer.

"I am," she said in reply to his question. "I want you, Gadriel. I love you. And if the world is so determined to take you from me tomorrow, I want to have you tonight." Gently, she covers his hands with her own, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. "But of course, all of that is moot unless you'll have me too."

Gadriel's reply is instant. "Of course I will."

"Then please," Ellicent whispered. She pressed her palm against his chest. Felt his now-racing heart beating against her skin.

"Take me."

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

"Welcome to the Dark Star," Ellie says quietly. She hugs her legs a little tighter, resting her temple on her knees so she is facing him.

It's only then that Gadriel notices she's missing her left arm.

"Where's your prostethic?" he asks.

Ellie glances at her empty shoulder socket. Her expression, like her voice, is totally flat. "They took it. Weren't keen on the idea of locking me up with my hyperphase sword." She raps her knuckles on her right knee, making a soft clanging sound. "Let me keep my leg, though. So that's something, I guess."

"But why?" Gadriel asks. "I mean, why are you even here? I thought these xenos were allied with you."

Ellie meets his gaze. Something hot flashes behind her eyes. "They're allied with Severus. Not me."

"But do you not work for him?"

Her next words come out laced with poison. "More like I'm indentured to him."

Despite himself, her words leave Gadriel feeling relieved. I knew it, he thinks. She's not here by choice. She's not a traitor."

"But I see your point," she continues. "And typically, it'd be right: Severus does keep the Dark Eldar off me. But then I fired off that flare and..."

She lapses back into morose silence. Gadriel feels a twinge in his chest unrelated to any of his wounds.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

"Don't be," Ellie replies. "It's not your fault. I knew what I was doing, how he would react. I'm just sorry you got hurt because of it."

Gadriel swallows thickly. "I... I'm not just talking about that."

Ellie cocks her head for a moment. "What are you..." Her face suddenly drops. "Oh. Right."

The sad silence returns. Ellie's eyes drop to the floor as she fiddles with a crack in the floor. Small ribbons of light catch her cheeks; tear streaks, Gadriel realises.

He forces himself to take a breath. From the moment he'd seen her again, the same terrible question has been plaguing his mind. But he can't hide from it any longer. Not when they may be so close to death.

"What happened to you, Ellie?" Gadriel asks. "How did you end up involved with... with people like this?"

Her reply is sharp as a blade. "It wasn't willingly. I can tell you that for nothing."

"I'd already guessed as much," Gadriel says gently. "But, truth be told, that only makes me more desperate to know how it all came to pass."

For a long while, Ellie is silent.

"Are you sure?" she finally asks.

The way she says it makes Gadriel's throat close over. "Yes," he answers. "Please."

Ellie goes quiet again. Her gaze returns to the cold, dank floor. "About six months after you left," she says. "Your mother died. Same sickness that killed my Dad. I couldn't stay in the house after that. Too much loss. I swear I could feel it coming out of the walls."

A twinge of grief pangs in Gadriel's chest. He'd already assumed that his mother was likely dead by now- if not from disease, then certainly from age. But nevertheless, the confirmation from Ellie still stings.

"I lived off the streets after that," she continues. "You know, stealing from topsiders, raiding trash piles, fighting for the best abandoned building to sleep in for the night; all the standard type stuff." She lets out a sigh. "Then Severus showed up.

"I don't know how much you know about him, from your mission briefing or whatever, but his main shtick is that he's a slaver. A trafficker. He and his cronies zip around the galaxy, visiting feral hive worlds and plucking healthy-looking vagrants off the streets to... Well, to do whatever he wants."

Gadriel swallows the lump in his throat. "And he..."

"Yup."

"Throne, Ellie."

With her one remaining shoulder, Ellie shrugs. "Wasn't just me. He probably took about a hundred people in the end. I was taken in my sleep. Hit over the head, woke up in the belly of some disgusting cargo bay." Briefly, she looks around her cell. "It wasn't too dissimilar to this, actually. Except a lot less roomy, with more people crammed inside. Most of the people Severus takes are to sell- that's what he's allied with the Dark Eldar for. But sometimes, he'll come across someone he takes a liking to, and he'll keep them as his own."

Once more, Gadriel's mouth fills with acidic bile, and the corners of his vision turn from black to red. When Ellie sees the look on his face, she forces a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it wasn't like that. Not with me, anyway. Only reason he liked me was 'cause I could handle myself in a fight. He saw a killer in me, not a play-thing. Probably the only stroke of luck I've had during this whole thing."

The only thing Gadriel can think to do is nod. "How about your arm and leg?" he asks. "How'd you loose them?"

"I didn't loose them," Ellie says. "Severus took them."

"He took them?"

She nods. "He'd have taken the others too, if he'd had enough necron parts lying around. But he only had a left arm and right leg, so that was all he could replace." She touches her empty shoulder socket. A soft, harsh laugh slips from her lips. "Another stroke of luck on my part, I guess.

"He made me his hit-man," she continues. "His errand girl."Defend this cargo, Ellicent. Kill this officer, Ellicent. I've got a pack of space marines coming after me, so set a trap for 'em and kill them for me, Ellicent. If you refuse me again, I'll let the Drukhari have you, and you'll be begging me to take you back." That was my life. For fifty years. And the cybernetics, they affected the rest of my body. Hardened my bones, slowed my aging right down. Meant death was hard to come by; even when I wanted it to."

Her voice is so full of emotion, it almost sounds devoid of it. Like an overloaded fuse, there is so much pain in her words, she can't possibly express it anymore. Gadriel's eyes well with tears. He can't stand this. All of these things happening to Ellicent. His Ellie. The girl he's loved from the moment he was old enough to understand what love even was.

All these things have happened to her, and I didn't save her. I didn't even try.

The silence that falls between them is a physical presence, one of hurt, foreboding and grief. Gadriel's wounds continue to scream at him, but compared to those coming from his hearts, they're little more than whimpers.

"So," Ellie mutters. "Now that you know all of that, I have to ask..."

Gadriel closes his eyes. He waits for her next words he were waiting for an executioner's axe to fall.

"Do you still remember the night before you left?"

The question takes him completely off-guard. And the memory it brings... Gadriel can't help but smile. "Of course," he says.

Ellie nods. "Do you remember what you said to me? When it's was all over?"

As quickly as it had come, his smile dies. "I said I loved you."

"Before that."

Gadriel averts his eyes. "I said I'd come back."

"No," Ellie replies. "You didn't just say it. You promised me. You looked me in the eye and you swore it."

"... I... I know."

"So why didn't you?"

Gadriel goes to chew the inside of his cheek, but winces as his teeth grate broken, bleeding skin. Seems the Dark Eldar's poison has kept even that wound from closing, too.

"And don't lie to me, okay?" Ellie adds. Her tone isn't accusatory; instead, it's almost a plea. "I don't want... poor excuses or anything like that. I just want the truth. No matter what it is. Surely I deserve that, at least."

"Of course you do," Gadriel says.

Ellie doesn't reply, but her silence indicates she's waiting for him to continue.

Gadriel looks down at his hands. Already, they're slick again with his own blood.

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the pangs of protest the movement sparks from his wounds, and clenches his hands into fists. "Do you know what re-education is?" he asks.

"No," she answers.

"It's the psychological aspect of Astartes' creation. Just as thorough and invasive as the surgeries and the physical training. But, arguably, it's more important than both."

He hears Ellie shift in her seat. "I don't think I like where this is going," she mutters.

Gadriel exhales hard through his nose. This time, the spike of pain that follows is enough to make him grimace. "I didn't even know it was a part of the process until it was happening to me," he says. "But if I did... I don't think I'd have joined."

The astonishment is Ellie's voice is tangible. "Do you really mean that?"

"I told you I wouldn't lie, didn't I?"

For a while, Ellie is quiet. "What did they do?" she asks softly.

Gadriel closes his eyes. His thoughts suddenly don't feel like his own. The very thing he's trying to tell her about, it doesn't want him to. It's fighting him. Filling his lungs with stones so he cannot speak, hijacking his thoughts to he cannot remember. But Gadriel refuses it. Pulling his eyes up from his fists, he looks at Ellie's face, takes in her scarlet hair and twinkling eyes. He uses them as anchors. As lifelines. For fifty years he's let this thing stand between him and the one he loves. He'll be damned if he's going to let it happen again.

"We were hypnotised," he says. "Then for days, we were fed these pict-casts and vox-recordings. I don't know what they were, but they had been developed by psycho encoders. They were meant to indoctrinate us, I suppose. I don't really remember much from those weeks, only that it was... unpleasant. I remember my throat being very sore after the end of every session. Like all I'd done the entire time was scream."

"You probably did," Ellie says quietly.

Gadriel doesn't respond to that. He doesn't know how. "After that," he continues, dropping his gaze again. "They let Librarians- psykers- into our minds. Again, I... don't really know what they did. But as I think about it now... It was after I'd had those sessions that my life before the Astartes became difficult to recall."

"Difficult how?"

"As in, it felt like a dream," Gadriel says. "Like a fantasy. You and Mum- you were... figments of my imagination. You weren't real. Nothing that came before my becoming an Astartes was real."

"Until you saw me again," Ellie whispers.

Gadriel feels tears prick his eyes. "Until I saw you again. After that, everything came back with startling clarity."

He musters the courage to look at her again. The expression he finds on her face almost breaks him.

"So..." she whispers. "So you never abandoned me."

It's not a question, so much as a statement. Tears roll down her cheeks again, but there's a smile on her face.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gadriel pushes himself off the wall. He crawls up to the bar wall on his knees, collapsing against it as consciousness threatens to leave him once again. Grimacing, he clutches one hand on the hole in his stomach. But the other, finds Ellie's hand. "If I had known I would've been forced to forget you," he rasps. "I'd have never joined the Astartes. I mean that. From the bottom of both my hearts, I mean it."

Ellie chokes on a stifled sob. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kisses his knuckles. "I'm sorry, Gadriel. I'm sorry I doubted you. I never should've. I should've known-"

"You should've known no such thing," Gadriel murmurs. "And you had every right to resent me."

Tears are rolling down his cheeks now, too. Dropping his hand, Ellie sidles up closer, reaches through the bars and gently wipes them away with her thumb. Her skin is rough with callouses- far more so than he ever remembered. But right now, it's the softest, more comforting thing Gadriel has felt in a long time.

"If these bars weren't in the way I would kiss you right now," Ellie says.

Gadriel smiles softly. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

Footsteps outside his cell make both of them turn.

Long shadows creep up the hallway's wall, moving in time with the steps. Gadriel doesn't need to wait, however, to know exactly who they belong to.

"Wakey wakey, space marine!" The voice is gravelly, feminine, and undeniably inhuman. "Someone wants to see you."

The Dark Eldar wyche prowls up the Gadriel's cell door, clad in leather and bone and wielding a spear. She unlocks the door with a click, before dragging it open and slipping inside.

"No," Ellie says, gripping Gadriel's hand.

Gadriel pulls free to cup her cheek. "Let go, Ellie. It's okay."

"No it isn't. It's-"

Through the bars, the wyche slams the butt of her spear into Ellie's face. Gadriel shouts her name, but the word devolves into a cry as the dark eldar kicks him in his wounded side. "Come on now," she purrs. "Cut that out. There'll be plenty of time for screaming later."

Dark spots flash before Gadriel's vision. The agony in his side is so intense, he can barely even draw breath. Grabbing him by the back of his undersuit's collar, the wyche drags him from his cell. The furious, desperate screams of Ellie follows them all the way down the hall.

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

I'm sorry to have to do another cliff hanger. The wait for part 6 shouldn't be too long, I promise.

Thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you think of the story so far! Your comments and tags are literally food for my soul ^^

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @justfreakynothingelse

[auguryofjellyfish]

more actual thoughts about yesterday's episodes

this tetro friday was unreal...it felt like a dream. it was beautiful.

[Open Sky] and [Young Forever] genuinely took my breath away. I already liked Ojima a lot, but these made his character finally, fully click for me, and my love for him automatically rose tenfold...OJIMA...! I Get It Now....and it feels so much like he's on his way out. out of him and Hiroaki, it would be more devastating for the other if Ojima died, so that's my metric lol. everyone knows these two aren't staying together. I'm gonna be so devastated if/when Ojima dies..i need him to be okay....i need him to finally begin to confront his trauma, for his own sake...Ojima...!

Wada was a delight as always...him carrying the lily everywhere...so precious...Book Club....2!!!! was super fun, I loved the delivery of "dumb", and loved him playing Yanagi's therapist. I don't really vibe with Yanagi as a character that much, so I needed this insight into him...If my man dies before him and Mai make up, istg. Hiroaki seems to have regained some will to live! I love him being smart and trying to have better chances at survival. Tamba was heartbreaking, I NEED her to be a survivor....and Mai...seemed...weird, to me. just weird. on the surface she's acting the same, but her actions just... something's off. that ain't it. she was really...really affected by Kan's torture even if she doesn't show it that much.

And Moko, of course...man...she needs to raze this whole institute to the ground. I'm loving her development...

Ken.

I miss Ken, so much. I miss him almost as much as the characters who actually died. HE acts like he's already dead. it's been 2 days in-universe so I'm not expecting him to be okay. but god, I MISS him.

I miss him as much as Kamimura. he was there for 40 seconds and then dipped. he sounded SO rough, barely even there. what is he even doing all day? staring at the ceiling, endlessly ruminating on his feelings?

I miss him to death...it's so goddamn empty without him. he and Kamimura didn't have eps together every single week, but most of them, yeah. I miss their episodes.

"we don't know him, what could we even talk about" I dunno guys....are there right things to talk about with a not-very-social-and-not-outgoing guy who's gone through something like this? like, they know that he and Kamimura were very close, with eeeeeveryone repeating on and on how They Were Always Together. I would be afraid of fucking up too, or awkwardness, or whatever else. but good god, it's better to just keep trying and fuck up than to leave him be. even just as a precaution, cause people who are alone might be plotting something! even out of pragmaticism, because they need his smarts and knowledge! any reason is good.

I wonder if Ken has ever been this alone. he strikes me as a kinda guy who, no matter how lonely he is, always knows that at least he has his family at the end of the day. he can have no one else, he can shut himself in his room, but he always knows that he will have someone there for him when he comes out.

and they- no one cleaned up the blood! seriously? Ken probably hasn't been upstairs, but when he finds out he's gonna flip the fuck out. Tsuno maybe would have been forgiving, she wouldn't want for people to push themselves over their limits for her...but Kamimura... I understand why nobody wants to do it, but goddamn, you have to...you can't just leave a big chunk of him just splattered around in a closet, he would really, really HATE it. the mess itself, the stench, the fact that it's him. he lived with his parents' decomposing bodies for 2 days, how would he feel knowing people are just breathing in the smell of his blood constantly?

"somebody will do it at some point" if that somebody's gonna be Ken, I swear...

Ken..please come back to us. 🙏

[orcelito]

It's getting more and more certain that I'm gonna get straight As this semester. For the very first time in my college career. My persuasion class is entirely graded, & I got a 95.88% in it. My data governance class still has the final paper to grade, but we got a 97.33% on the presentation, so the paper probably won't be much lower than that, & my current running grade in that class is a 96.53%, so. We'd have to do Pretty Badly to get that below a 90%, so it's almost a guaranteed A. Then there's my gender communication class, which doesn't have a listing on the homework website (bc my professor in that class is real old-school) BUT I got full points on my final essay exam too, which means the Only thing in that class I got points taken off for was my presentation, which Even Then I still got a pretty good grade. So that one's almost certain to be an A as well.

Which leaves UX design class, which is still missing a grade for the project we turned in back at the start of November 😭😭😭😭😭 but they say they're grading them this week so. Sure, I guess. (Still don't know why they graded the more recent project before that one but Oh Well). Anyways, we've been getting really good grades on all our projects, bc it's a level 100 course and their grading criteria is really easy 😂😂😂. So really good grades on all the projects. Not as good grades on the class participation stuff bc I kept forgetting to do my reflections and the readings, but that's not very many points overall. So unless we do badly on the project that has yet to be graded (unlikely), I'm Proooobably going to get an A in this class too. At worst, a B. But I'm hoping for an A.

It'd just be really cool to have straight As for the first time in college. And then maybe, just maybe, I'll do it all over again next semester too >:]

[manujanolavu]

sometimes I want to lead a godless existence just to know how it feels

[jeo9n]

INSTAGRAM

you’ve been texting jungkook on instagram non stop ever since he opened his account as a joke. but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually text you back.

౨ৎ

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, future smut

warnings: none

wordcount: 2k

you get woken up by your alarm at exactly 6am. like everyday, you open your eyes and the first thing you do is check your phone. catching up with everything that happened while you were asleep. texting your friends back that live in a different time zone than you.

you’re tired but you get out of bed anyway. you have to get ready for work. even if your body is screaming for you to stay in bed.

the first thing you do is make your bed so it prevents from laying back down. you already took a shower yesterday night, which you thank yourself as it saves you time this morning. so all you have to do is brush your teeth and wash your face.

when you’re done with that you make yourself a coffee and start to get dressed. you keep your outfit simple with some baggy jeans and a black long sleeve top because you’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. you always make sure to never leave the house without spraying perfume everywhere on your body. you forgot to but some on one day as you were running late, only noticing when you were already at work and someone might say it’s stupid but you didn’t feel good that day, you didn’t feel like yourself without your sweet perfume. you love to smell good, you love getting compliments on your scent, you love people smelling you before they even see you.

ever since that you never forgot to put perfume on again, but carrying around a travel size bottle of your favorite perfume in your bag just in case.

you pet your cats goodbye one last time before you leave your apartment. you hate leaving them home alone but thankfully they have each other so they are not really "alone" but it still hurts you.

you’re already on the way to the small coffee shop that you work at , as you remember you haven’t texted your boyfriend (jungkook) a good morning text yet. so you pull your phone at your pocket and text him right away. the chat is filled with hundreds of your messages texting him random stuff about how your day was and occasionally sending him some memes and reels you thought were funny.

y/n: good morning jungkoookkk!!

y/n: i’m on my way to work.

y/n: you’re probably asleep but have a good day.

you smile to yourself as you double text him. your not texting him in hopes to get a text back, cause that would be crazy. i mean, that guys is crazy famous of course he’s not going to text me back. you just think it’s funny, although sometimes you think it’s actually kinda weird and you should probably stop, but you never actually do.

as you open the door to your workplace you’re instantly greeted with the delicious smell of coffee, which reminds you, you still have your empty cup of coffee in your hands which you forgot to throw away. your coworker greets you good morning as she looks up from behind the counter.

"good morning. leslie." you greet back as you throw your coffee away. "ugh i really don’t feel like working today." you tell her, while taking of your jacket. she laughs and agrees with you.

"girl, i literally stayed up all night binge watching true crime documentaries." she tells me. "look at my eye bags! i can’t even cover them up with makeup." she says as she lifts up her hand to show me her dark eye bags. "but i guess it’s my own fault. i knew i should’ve turned the tv off after the first episode." she says in frustration and it makes me laugh. i can totally relate to her. you tell yourself one more episode and suddenly the sun comes up and you finished the whole show, wondering where the time went.

happened to me one too many times.

"yea…" you say, tying your apron at you back. "been there, done that." and she smiles softly in response. "should i make you a coffee? cause you really look like you need one." you tell her as you point to your eye bags, mocking her.

she laughs and kicks you jokingly "yes please! make it extra strong."

"will do." you say in a laugh, already on your way to the coffee machine. it’s definitely gonna be a long day for leslie today.

you put the coffee down carefully, not trying to spill the hot coffee all over the counter. "here you go, extra strong for you, your highness. " you bow to her jokingly while laughing like an idiot.

"you’re so stupid." she laughs with you, bringing the coffee up to her lips, trying to take a sip.

you worked a little longer today as usual since it was busy. but you don’t mind. working extra hours means extra money and you would never complain about that.

you take you shoes off and wash your hands as soon as you get home. after that you change into more comfy close just some sweatpants and hoodie and you already feel way better. you walk to your kitchen to feed your cats, who are acting like you leave them out to starve and never feed them. after your done with that you wash your hands again and make yourself something to eat since you only had breakfast today. you decide for pizza today as it doesn’t take long to be ready. you shove it into the oven and while you wait you brows through your phone. you lean against the counter and watch some tiktok’s to make to the time go by faster.

the pizza is done in under 20 times. thankfully. you cannot wait longer or else your stomach is gonna start eating itself. you sit down on your couch with your pizza on your lap. you try to take a bite but it’s still too hot so start browsing through netflix instead to find something to watch while your eating. when you find something your pizza has cooled down already so you start eating.

after your done, you get up and do the dishes right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. after that you decide to take a bath since you haven’t done that in a while and after that hectic day today you really need it.

the warm water hugs your body as you lay down in your bathtub. you feel your body start to relax enjoying the temperature of the water. your eyes are closed as you hear the notification sound from your phone, but you ignore it. you feel so comfortable right now you don’t want to move. so you stay put, enjoying this bath maybe a little too much.

after like twenty minutes you start to get bored and the water has gone cold, so you decide it’s time to get out. you quickly wash your body and get out. you do you skincare and brush your teeth while your body dries, after that you put some vanilla bodylotion on, quickly change into your pyjamas and head to bed, your cats joining you seconds after. one sleeps on top the pillow next to you while the one sleeps between your legs.

you go to grab your phone from your nightstand, checking it one last time before you go to sleep. your just scrolling trough your notifications not thinking anything by it. you stop at one particular notification and your hearts starts to beat faster. sitting straight in your bed, rubbing your eyes to make sure your seeing correctly. you cannot believe what you’re seeing.

jeon jungkook has fucking texted you back.

not only once. he double texted you back.

is this really happening right now?

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: woww! how long have you been texting me for ? there are like a thousand messages lol

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i hope you had good day at work! i just woke up.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i saw your message and there are so many. i felt bad so i texted back. looked like your were talking to yourself haha.

wait. i cannot believes this. am i dreaming?

your hands shake and you’re not sure what to text back. should i even text back? would he text back again?

i take a deep breath. my head is going crazy right now.

after you collected yourself , you text back.

y/n: lol this is awkward.

y/n: i wasn’t thinking you would actually text back.🫣

y/n: i hope my message weren’t bothering you or anything.

you struggle sending the message back cause your hands won’t stop shaking. but can you blame me? the love of my life just texting me back and my stupid ass ignored it because of that stupid bath i took.

i bite on my nails nervously, my heart is beating so fast it might jump out of my chest at any minute.

i wait for an answer back, which is stupid, i know.

just because he texted me back one time doesn’t mean he’s going to do it again.

you know he won’t. but still, you wait.

you wait for like an hour until you realize he’s actually not responding anymore so you decide to go sleep. or try to go to sleep i should say, since your mind won’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

after a while you eventually fall asleep after what felt like hours.

the next morning you get woken up again by your alarm. this time you grab your phone a little faster than usual. scrolling through your notifications with tired but curious eyes.

you eyes widen as you find his notification again.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: haha no, you don’t bother me. i read through your messages last night.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: you’re funny haha.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: judging by the time i usually get the first message from you, i should get a message soon right?

you read the last text and it says sent an hour ago.

okay wait. he texted again? and he thinks i’m funny?

im definitely dreaming because there is no way that this is fucking happening.

your thumbs moves fast as you reply to him.

y/n: no way!!!

y/n: am i dreaming?? please tell me im not

y/n: is this really jungkook?

y/n: no, it can’t be

y/n: is someone playing with me?

someone definitely must be playing with you. because what do you mean jeon jungkook texted me back not one, but twice?

you actually cannot believe it yourself. this is crazy.

you wait a little bit to see if he’ll respond again. but nothing comes so you start getting ready for work.

how am i going get through work today, when all i can think about is him. you think to yourself.

~~~~

i hope you enjoy this chapter because im definitely excited about this fanficton ahhh

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  you've been my best friend for years, what made you think it would change now?  ❜ ❛  i'm always here for you if you need me.  ❜ ❛  well, that's what friends are for.  ❜ ❛  remember, i'm always just one call away.  ❜ ❛  how long have we known each other now? i know you better than you know yourself.  ❜ ❛  you're an idiot most of the time, but you're my idiot.  ❜ ❛  do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? i could use some company.  ❜ ❛  you always know how to cheer me up.  ❜ ❛  i made you your favorite food.  ❜ ❛  i know it's 2 a.m. but i really need someone to talk to. are you awake?  ❜ ❛  remember when we used to build blanket forts? let's do it again.  ❜ ❛  please come to this family dinner with me. my family already loves you and i need some neutral person there with me.  ❜ ❛  here, i got you something. i saw it at the shop and it reminded me of you.  ❜ ❛  do you remember that promise we made to each other when we were kids?  ❜ ❛  i'm so grateful to have you in my life. you mean the world to me.  ❜ ❛  i don't need advice right now, just a friend to listen.  ❜ ❛  you're the best friend one could ever ask for.  ❜ ❛  hey, umm ... thank you for being my friend.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to go through this alone. i'm here for you.  ❜ ❛  want to grab a coffee and catch up?  ❜ ❛  we may not talk every day anymore, but i still consider you my friend.  ❜ ❛  i can stay and help you finish this if you want.  ❜ ❛  you've got this. i believe in you!  ❜ ❛  how about we plan a game night this weekend?  ❜ ❛  do you ever wonder what our lives will be like in ten years?  ❜ ❛  no matter what happens, you'll always have me.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to pretend with me. i like you just the way you are.  ❜ ❛  consider it ... a little friendly competition.  ❜ ❛  thank you, you always know how to make me laugh.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe how far we've come together.  ❜ ❛  just stay put, i'll be over in a minute.  ❜ ❛  i've got us tickets for that concert/movies/exhibition you wanted to go to.  ❜ ❛  how about a road trip? just like old times ...  ❜ ❛  i really appreciate you staying in my life all these years.  ❜ ❛  i don't know what i'd do without you.  ❜ ❛  you can tell me if something is bothering you.  ❜ ❛  race you to the end of the street!  ❜ ❛  bet you can't beat me at this game. i'm a pro.  ❜ ❛  i challenge you to a cooking contest. loser has to buy dinner for the next week.  ❜ ❛  you've been such a great friend, and i just wanted to say thanks.  ❜

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

[rebelscums]

Apricity (Qimir x Lover reader)

Ratings: Angst | Slight fluff | Mentions of nudity | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone

Summary: Qimir chooses his padawan over you, going back on his promise and leaving you with one choice… To leave.

For the longest time, it has always been you and him. The two of you against the entire galaxy, searching for a place to belong. Long nights spent tangled up in sheets and days spent traveling the galaxy. It felt nice not to feel so lonely anymore, to belong to someone and have a purpose.

Until he wanted more.

“You want a pupil?” You sat up in bed, the cool air circling from the cave entrance caressing your skin.

He sat up as well, his hand circling around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, “I want to pass my knowledge onto someone else…” His thumb brushed against your side, “I want an acolyte.” He leaned in to press kisses on your neck.

“Then why not just get me pregnant?”

He grinned, breathing a content chuckle against your skin, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t mind it.” The thought of a child, a mix of both you and Qimir, running around excited you.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, “I promise, once my work is done and I have an acolyte to carry out my will. You and I can finally live without constantly hiding and we can have all the children we could want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise my flower.”

That was two years ago before he found… Mae. You believed in his words, kept his identity a secret, and stood by faithfully as he spent all of his time training her.

He said that he didn’t want to risk your life, that was why your love would remain a secret. You could understand his reasoning and you complied as you always did.

Sometimes he would leave you on the unknown planet you both made your home…

You decided long ago to call the planet Apricty because no matter how cold it felt, your love kept it warm. But that warmth slowly began to fade with each passing month he spent away from you. It was always the same line.

“I thought that maybe we could take a tripe to Naboo?”

“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon.”

“Today is our anniversary. I wanted to make something special for us for dinner. When will you be home?”

“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon we will celebrate.”

“Can I come with you this time? I feel…” alone…

“I can’t take you with me my flower, but I promise soon.”

You spent most of your time walking along the beach, collecting shells and taking in the scenery of the waves crashing against the rocks. Today was no different as you sat on the edge of the beach, dipping your toes into the freezing water.

You were bored and lonely and you just, “I miss him.” You admitted quietly to no one. You’ve found yourself talking to the force lately. You weren’t like Qimir, you had no strong connection and you couldn’t wield the force, but you felt close to it as the force reminded you of Qi.

“I miss waking up to him humming as he cooked breakfast… I miss his jokes and that lopsided grin of his… I miss cooking dinner for him and running my hands through his hair… I miss our adventures… I… I miss…” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt tear drops hit your hands, “I miss him.” You sobbed.

You were concerned and you were scared for him that his ambitions would take him to where you couldn’t follow.

You were cutting potatoes to put in a stew, humming a song that Qimir used to sing to you. It gave you some sense of humanity staying here alone for the past couple of months. Your tears had long since dried from earlier today and your only plan was to eat dinner and go to bed.

“Your voice is just as beautiful as I remember my flower.” You heard him speak behind you and you froze wondering if you were imagining him again.

“Qi…” You whispered his name as you turned to find him standing there, a small smile on his face.

Your eyes tear up as you stood and rushed towards him. He engulfed you in his arms and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“It’s been so long.” You cried into his shirt.

“I know, I’m sorry my flower.” He whispered into your hair as he caressed your body.

You pulled back to look him over, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You notice the tired look on his face, “What happened?”

“Jedi.” He muttered as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I took care of them.”

You breathed in his scent as closed your eyes… You were happy that he was back and you once again felt safe in his arms… That is until you heard a noise emanating from your room.

“What was that?” You wondered as you pulled away from him.

“My flower, there’s something I need to tell you about.” He said.

There was nothing in his expression that would allow anyone to know what he was thinking… But you weren’t just anyone.

“What is it?” A frown crossed your lips as you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“I brought Osha here.” He muttered knowing he could not lie to you.

“Osha?” Your brows furrowed, “Your acolyte’s sister? Why?”

“Mae betrayed me. I believe Osha is the acolyte I need.”

You pushed him away, your joy of him returning morphing into frustration, “You brought her here?”

“I had no other choice.” He pressed.

“You always have a choice.” You turned away from him. It was ironic how now you wanted space from him.

He took a step towards you wrapping his arms around your waist, “She was hurt, please. I wouldn’t have brought her here if I didn’t have a choice.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, “Alright.” You whispered quietly.

He turned you around and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Thank you my flower. You have always supported me and I love you for that.”

“Of course.” You brushed your nose against his, “I love you.”

You spent your evening tending to the girl’s wound, something you never dreamed of doing, but here you are. You were happy though that at least Qimir was back and hopefully now you can go with him places.

Or so you thought.

You both stood outside of the cave as he told you, “For my plan to work, you can’t tell her that we are together.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned him, “What does our love have anything to do with her as your new acolyte?”

“She needs to see that to truly be powerful she cannot have any attachment to her old life.” He explained, “Trust me on this, please.” He asked once again.

“Who…” You frowned softly, a sad look in your gaze, “Who would you have me be?”

“You’ll be my smuggler, just for a little while.” He placed his hands on your arms, “I swear that it won’t be for long. Just until she accepts who she is.”

“Okay…” You whispered unsure.

Why do you always say yes to him? Why can’t you just tell him that this hurts you more than slicing your own skin? Then being left alone. It felt as if he didn’t want to belong to you anymore…

“Who are you?” Osha asked behind you from where you were making lunch.

“No one important.” You spoke softly, “How is your wound?”

“It’s… Better… Thank you.” She spoke unsure.

“I did what I could with what I had.” You motioned to a bag, “There are some clothes and things for you in there. They are mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit.”

I could hear her make her way over to the bag and open it to inspect the items, “Why are you helping me?” She wondered.

“Because he asked.” You stated as you added more vegetables to the curry, “And because I’m not a bad person.”

You heard her pick up the bag and carry it to the back room to change.

“Qi is outside.” You told her, “I’ll come fetch you both for lunch when it’s ready.”

You hoped that you didn’t seem too mean or awkward as you brushed off your pants. At least the curry turned out good. You thought as you slipped on your shoes and one of Qimir’s coat that you stole. His scent was still there but faded from how many times you’ve worn it while he was away.

“You are not going to give that back are you?” He chuckled.

“You are leaving me for months. The least you can do is leave me this. I may forget you after all.” You teased though you were silently hurting, you didn’t let him know.

He pulled you in for a deep kiss, “I won’t be gone long. Once I find an acolyte everything will be perfect.”

But everything was perfect… At least to you.

You hummed softly as you left the cave, some seeds in your pocket to feed the cute little creatures that live alongside you. The walk felt nice as you finally had somewhere to go to without mindlessly wandering around until your feet felt numb. You wondered if Qi would like to go see the small garden you had been meticulously been cultivating since he left. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

Besides you always told him you wanted a garden and now you have one that you made all on your own.

“A garden hm?” He smiled softly down at you.

“Yes! I would like a big one with the most beautiful and exotic fruits, vegetables, and flowers that we have ever seen!” You explained happily to him as he spun you around in your little home, “Then I can make us the most delicious meals.”

“I see, I guess I will have to get started on building you one then.” He smiled.

He never did build you that garden; but it made you feel proud that you built one yourself. It wasn’t grand and it didn’t have the most beautiful fruits, vegetables, or flowers in the galaxy, but it was enough. It made you content in your lonely state. You continued on your path, knowing exactly where he would be. It was your favorite spot after all, a little cove that was perfect for taking a swim or just relaxing. You remember all of the fond memories the two of you had there when the only thought in mind was your shared future. You thought it was enough… You hoped it was.

You could hear two voices and you sighed silently knowing you would have to put up an act. You had secretly hoped that Osha would try to escape or get lost and you could spend some much needed time with Qimir, but you suppose that the force was not on your side this time.

“If you’re not going to join me then I would like to get dressed.” You heard Qimir say and the odd choice of words made a sick feeling settle in the pit of your stomach.

You turned around the corner of a giant boulder when before you made you step back in shock. There your lover was standing bare in front of a girl who was only supposed to be his padawan.

What was this…?

You didn’t understand as you watched him get dressed. He didn’t try to hide himself or make her turn away. He didn’t…

You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself, silently leaving the two to their private conversation. There were many emotions and thoughts consuming your mind as you trekked back to your little home.

How long has that been going on? Was he that way with Mae as well? Was I just a placeholder until he found someone better? Why? Why? Why?

Your sadness grew into anger as the realization settled in you like a seed of doubt. He… Didn’t love me anymore. I wonder if he ever did? You thought.

You waited in your home, a place that you have worked hard to make it a warm and welcoming place for the both of you. You could hear them talking as they approached, could see them as Qimir twisted his way inside her mind as he did yours all those years ago. Watched as he grabbed her arm so gently that you wanted to cry. You wanted to look away as she pinned him to the cave entrance and he let her, the lightsaber so close to his neck you wondered if she would actually do it… You wondered if you wanted her to.

He set his claim over her with soothing words and a gentle touch and you knew… He didn’t want you. He didn’t even want a padawan.

He wanted an equal.

You couldn’t give him that, not with your small connection to the force. You weren’t like him. You never would be.

Your heart broke in that moment and nothing saved you from the sorrow that consumed you. All you wanted was a family… He was your family. He was everything to you and you… You weren’t as nearly important to him.

“At least three.” You lied in bed, curled up in his arms.

“Four kids?” He chuckled as he drew circles across your skin, “Why not make it four? Make it even.”

“Four?” You hummed in thought, “Do you think you can handle that many kids?”

“I handle you just fine, how hard can it be?” He teased.

You mockingly gasped in shock before rolling over on top of him, “You’ll see just how hard I am to handle.”

“Oh I’m counting on it.” He grinned, placing his hands on your hips.

You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone Qi.”

“I’ll never let you go.” He stated sincerely, “Nothing will ever keep me from you, my flower.”

“I’ll keep you to that.” You kissed him.

It seemed that shattered piece of the force reminded him that you were there. He could feel that string of yours begin to fray and when his eyes met yours he knew that there was no way to bring you back.

It was early the next morning and you watched the tide begin to recede as you waited to board your ship, one that was smaller than Qimir’s, but still fast.

“Flower.”

“Please, spare me indignity.” You whispered.

“I can explain.”

You could see the hurt hidden behind his soft gaze, a pleading act that you knew too well. It was a look that he only gave when he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

You continued to look at him with tears in your eyes, “I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I’m not connected to the force like you, but I know you do the very core of my being and I know… I know Qimir.”

“That’s not—” He stepped towards you, but you held a hand up to stop him.

“I want to be loved only by you and… You swore that it would just be the two of us. You used to say you couldn’t bear to be without me… You used to run to see me… I want to be close to you and you still keep me at arms length. You think I’m naive, but I see more than what you want me to see.” You took a breath as you tried to keep your composer without breaking down.

You searched his eyes for the love he once held for you and you wanted to cry because you couldn’t find it anymore.

“You have my heart Qimir, you always have. My love for you is as warm as the sun, but I cannot continue to shine upon something that prefers the darkness.” You confessed, your heart barely keeping it together. You wanted to run back in his arms and forget everything that happened, but that would only leave you right where you are now… Alone.

“What are you saying?” His voice cracked and he felt a gnawing feeling crawl up his chest and towards his heart.

“I can no longer follow you on the path that you are taking, not when your heart no longer belongs to me so please… Give me some decency and let me leave you.” You pleaded not knowing how much your heart could take.

“I can’t.” He shook his head and his voice became desperate, “Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to loose you. Not you.”

“Then tell her to go.” You looked in the direction of where Mae was watching at the entrance of your home… Your life… Your safe space.

“I…” He looked torn as he tried to decide and that hurt you all the more… He had to think about choosing you and… “I can’t.” He finally responded.

He couldn’t even choose you.

You nodded to yourself at his choice, silently confirming your decision to leave. It was best for you no matter how much pain you were currently in.

“No one will ever be able to truly see you the way I do… You were my apricity.” You turned and began to walk to your ship, “Goodbye Qimir.”

Osha took his place by his side and he suddenly felt a feeling of emptiness, no longer did he feel a purpose nor did he wish for anything except for his beloved flower.

“You won’t kill her?” Osha asked as she watched as your ship took off.

“Never.” He responded quietly.

[nikovraskol]

Crack baby is very *chief kiss*🤌

I wonder if MC knows that legally they can't live alone as a minor without the involvement of an adult? Like you can do that at 16 but for this to be legal you still need a legal guardian and to get an ok from the government by giving a good reason like your parents working out of the country and you stay for school.

If I was MC I'd not ask because Bruce will not care enough to think of a good lie to give the government (but also he can just pay the right people)

Also what would happen if MC didn't ask for money for the House? Will Bruce tell them that he decided to move their room to the family wing? What else will he want to talk about? And how will he react to MC refusing to move rooms calmly and saying that they are who moved that room that that section (it can be a lie) and that they prefer the quite.

Alfred finding that he has more work to do, and also gets worried that you saddenly don't want to be close to the family

you're very perceptive anon, i do have plans regarding mc's age and all that jazz

masterlist

but if mc weren't too ask bruce for money, let's say you convienently had enough money saved up or you had a friend to stay with, you would likely leave silently.

you pack their bags and dip, just like that. of course, alfred would be the first to notice and he would be absolutely devastated! he cares for mc like a child and you just left without a word!! but not to worry, he's sure you'll be back, evident by the way the family reacts.

just -- don't be surprised by how closely he lingers when you're back, he must make sure you don't do anything rash anymore.

slowly but surely, the manor would become strangely silence, a lack of a presence that nobody can put their finger on what's changed .. i mean, they didn't take notice of you anyway so it's not like they'd suddenly realise straight away.

it's definetly damian who notices first .. he takes a walk around your room hoping to bump into you and (see you) remind you how useless you are.. but there's a silence around your room that puts him on edge.

he's completely disgruntled when he realises you've gone! blasphemous! how could this be?

he then tells bruce, who is just as perplexed -- how did you leave? you're a child! way too young to survive gotham alone. he then recruits the others and they track you down with ease ! you're obviously upset -- who do they think they are? they suddenly want to take interest in you now? after all that's happened.

like, you'd probably be casually lounging around, doing what you do and you turn your head and there's a family gathering in your room.. except they don't look too pleased.

you can cry as much as you want, kick, scream -- they'll take you back, you felt neglected, right? that's why you left, don't worry. they'll take care of you, just don't try running away again, yeah?

as for mc refusing to move wings.. that's really interesting to me because it opens up so many possiblities.

first of all, you refusing just adds to bruce's guilt. he takes it less as you being resentful and more-so you being scared, it adds to his image of you being some helpless, naive fool.

he'll probably relent for a week, but the image of you stuck in your room, crying alone has him clutching his hair until he can't take it and he'll just move u in ur sleep.

you go to sleep peacefully in your little box room only to wake up in some fancy, way too big room that has you gaping in shock -- you're obviously pissed off, where does he get off treating you like a child!

he sighs whenever you kick and scream, gently soothing you much to your chagrin. he'll change his plan from dropping in every once in a while to every single day.

he sees you as a child, so each time you shout at him, telling him you no longer want his attention, that you're not a child -- it just adds to his helpless image of you !!

there's nothing you can do now, there's no moving out or running away, because as soon as bruce sets his eyes on you, so does everyone else.

you're stuck, poor you, but don't worry, with bruce holding your hand you don't have anything you need to wish for! isn't that great?

[ginevrapng]

I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?

If not, I completely understand! <3

i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3

there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.

you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.

he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.

james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.

remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.

sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.

you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.

"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.

this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.

they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.

"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.

you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"

"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.

you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.

fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 3]

word count: 2145 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: like one time swearing

[part 1] [part 2]

As soon as the dorm room door closed behind you, your shoes were practically flung off your feet. With a deeply satisfied sigh you stretched and wiggled your toes, slowly feeling the numbness subside. You weren’t used to wearing heels but thought that a third date called for the occasion.

“How was it?”

Confused, you turned around as if your roommate could have possibly meant anyone else. She hardly ever spoke with you so this was absolutely a first.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, computer on her lap, and brushed her headphones from one ear.

“The… date?”, you asked cautiously, standing frozen in front of the wardrobe like a deer caught in headlights.

The other girl nodded.

“It was… nice?”

“Just nice?”

“He was sweet.”

“That was your second one this week, right? Are you gonna keep seeing him?”

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re talking to me.”

She shrugged.

“Because I’m curious.” When you still didn’t say anything, she explained, “I’ve heard all over campus what happened, and… it sucks what your ex did. And I saw how sad you were about it but I’m also really impressed with how you’re handling it now. I guess I just wanna say that at first, I thought it was a really dumb rumor because you were both so obsessed with each other. It didn’t make any sense.”

That brought you out of your stupor. You turned to put your jacket back in the closet and tossed the shoes carelessly into the void somewhere to other disregarded things.

“Yeah.”, you said after a small pause.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

Now it was on you to shrug.

“Why d’you ask?”

Your roommate turned the laptop so you could see. It was a live feed of the current varsity volleyball match. Issei was just being switched out and the camera stayed on him as the coach kept talking very fast and gesturing towards the court in an unmistakably urgent manner. Issei simply bowed his head and nodded to his shoes, kneading the pads of his fingers against the water bottle like he always had done when he was anxious. The clip was only about five seconds long but it was obvious that when he turned around to look at the stands behind him he was searching for someone.

Your roommate moved the laptop back so that the screen was facing her again.

“He has been off all game.”

“Well… too bad.”, you said and grabbed your towel and shower caddy.

With three days left until Christmas, the first snow fell. After your tear-filled kiss with Issei at the bench two weeks ago he had left you alone. No more notes, no more loitering around waiting to talk to you and you wondered if this was really how it would be from now on. You figured that finding out you were dating someone else had spooked him into hiding. However, just as you were sure you would never speak another word with him you heard a commotion outside your door. Calls and hollerings were echoing through the hallway from the girls on your floor and you and your roommate both looked up from your essays to then exchange a questioning head tilt with each other. The large pizza carton between you was pushed aside and, brushing your greasy hands off on your washed-out sweats, you got up to see what was going on. When you opened the door you saw four guys hunched over with their heads ducked between their shoulders looking as uncomfortable as can be. Issei, meanwhile, was pushing a fifth down the corridor toward your room. You recognized them now. It had taken a few seconds without their usual sneers.

Your ex had them stand in a row in front of you and then all but one knelt down. Issei gave the last one a tap with his foot on the back of the knee to make him match the others. Heads hung low and hands resting on their thighs, one after the other bowed in deepest apology with their foreheads almost touching the linoleum. The middle one, whom you remembered as the idiot who suggested the bet, began to speak as Issei stood behind them all, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.

“Y/n-san,”, the middle one said, “we’re very sorry for… for the whole thing.”

Issei cleared his throat. All the girls from the surrounding doors giggled and kept their phones focused on them to film while you were gaping like a fish.

“- for making the bet about you. It was terrible and immature and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. We ask for your forgiveness.” A general murmur of apologies went through the row of kneeling guys.

“Here.”, the middle one fished a crinkly envelope from his hoodie and held it up to you with both hands, “This is the money from the bet. Please accept it.”

“No, why would I want your money?”, you replied in disbelieving disgust.

“Okay.”, your roommate weighed in quietly and slipped past you, snatching the envelope, “I’ll be taking that.”

You frowned at her.

She raised her hands in defense. “Pride and integrity are great and all but we are still students at the end of the day. This will at least fund next month’s pizza parties. I’m just saying.” And she retreated behind you, adding, “Carry on.”

“Just leave me alone and don’t ever talk to or about me ever again. And the sooner you realize that you are nothing but pathetic worms that peaked in high school the sooner you can go to therapy which you obviously need.”

The boys seemed to wait for something, then Issei said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”

All five scrambled to their feet and pushed through the audience of sniggering girls to get away.

Incredulously, you looked at Issei who was very obviously very satisfied with himself.

“How did you even…?”

He chuckled and shrugged as the surrounding crowd slowly dispersed and went back into their rooms and about their days.

“You didn’t beat them up, did you?”

“Worse.”

He walked over to you and leaned casually against your doorframe.

“I called their moms.”

Your roommate snorted and went back to her essay.

There was a pause in which Issei realized that for the first time since the breakup, you didn’t regard him with the previous hurt or anger. His smirk faded into a small unsure smile and he switched between glancing at you and his hands, “You look pretty.”, he muttered, then pushed himself off the doorframe, “Have a good night.”

The clip of the five guys kneeling in front of your door (from varying angles) was all over the campus forum for days giving you finally a different sort of spotlight and leading your fellow students to turn their attention and energy to hackling the bet-makers rather than you. It was a welcome change of pace.

On Christmas morning then you were bundled up tightly in your coat and scarf and trudged through the freshly fallen snow on your way to the library where you would pretend to study while in all honesty, you would just be scrolling on your phone. All just to escape the omnipresent merriment. You had to walk past Issei’s dorm, something you had avoided doing for weeks and instead had taken the much longer route.

“Y/n!”, you heard a shout from overhead and when you looked up into the soft flurry of snow you spotted Issei waving from his window, “Wait there for a moment!”

Two flights of stairs later, Issei jogged through the lobby towards the glass front door to hold it open. “Could you come up for a second, please? - It’s nothing weird, I promise.”, he added when he saw your skeptically raised brow.

You followed him silently until you reached his door.

With a flourish, he opened his room and was met with a wall of smell from a whole bunch of different essential oils. He coughed and flitted into the room to open the window again, using a notepad to fan the air. The whole room was decorated with candles and garlands and even a small fake Christmas tree that obviously had needed a bit of persuasion to stand up straight on the bedside table.

“Sorry.”, he pressed out in between coughs, “I went around the whole building for candles but they all just had scented ones.” He kept feverishly fanning the icy cold air into the room, ignoring the thick snowflakes landing on and soaking through his pillow. A long dead plant in a pot on the windowsill caught the flame of a candle as he waved around the notepad and began to slowly burn to a crisp. “Oh!” He tossed the notepad onto the bed and grabbed the mostly empty can of an energy drink to pour over it.

“Anyways.”, Issei turned around as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat, “You once told me that you were kinda dreading Christmas because you couldn’t go see your family and I promised that I would spend Christmas with you and make it fun, so!” He jumped to his dresser and retrieved a red tin containing slightly burned, painstakingly decorated sugar cookies and handed them to you. Then he turned around and rummaged under his bed until he pulled out a Santa hat and reindeer antlers that he placed on top of the tin in your hands, “I also have your favorite Christmas movies -”, he waved toward his laptop, “you don’t have to watch them with me, of course, but they’re there if you like - and”, he picked up a note from his desk, “here is the list we made of all the Christmas activities that you wanted to do. We can go through them one by one.” You noticed how the paper shook slightly in his hand and how he swallowed a lump that seemingly had formed in his throat while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Mistletoe is kinda inappropriate now but I guess you can… slap me instead if we’re both under it. But the snow is good for a snowball fight and to build a snowman and make snow angels and-“

“Issei!”, you said firmly to stop his ramblings, “This is really nice of you but I’m not in the mood to play in the snow right now.”

“Right… uhm.”, his eyes darted back to the paper in his hand for another idea, “We can go to the coffee shop for that holiday drink I told you about.”, he suggested excitedly instead.

“I… already went and tried it last week with my roommate.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was nice, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” After a short pause, he followed up with, “I’m glad.”

He then hesitated, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and put the list back on his desk.

You looked around the room - the leftover paper shreds next to the trash can from the cutout snowflakes, the wonky bow on top of the cookie tin, the over-laden Christmas tree. All the effort and genuine thought he had put into everything at the very least made you want to accept his peace offering.

“I wouldn’t mind having it again, though.”, you heard yourself mumble.

“Really? You sure?”

You shrugged.

“Alright, lemme grab my jacket.”

“You should put out the candles.”

“Right!”

“Alright, order placed.”, he announced when he sat down across from you, holding up the little buzzer that would let you know about your drinks.

“How have you been?”, he asked.

“Good. Better. I aced that exam I was so worried about.”

“Knew you had it in your pocket.”, Issei nodded and turned the buzzer nervously in his fingers.

“Let me just tell you that I know there is no excuse for what I did. But know that I am not done apologizing for it. You are everything to me and I am kicking myself every day for not realizing it the moment I saw you. You deserve nothing but the best and I’m glad you found someone who can make you happy.”

“Thank you.”, you allowed yourself to smile, “I appreciate that.”

“So… what’s he like?”, he asked, trying very hard to sound casual.

“Who?”

“Your new boyfriend. Do I know him?”

“Well uhm, he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” His fingers turning the buzzer slowed ever so slightly.

“Yeah it just…”, you sighed and shrugged, “didn’t work out.”

You would under no circumstances ever tell him that it was because you had called him Issei while he kissed you. You would take that to the grave.

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“You know this would be a whole lot more convincing if you weren’t grinning like an idiot.”, you smiled.

taglist: @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324

[part 4]

[adieutristana]

Hi hi hi! Was wondering if you could do a jinx x reader fic where instead of ekko saving her from blowing herself up it was the reader

Tyy <333

of course! thank you for the request <3

two out of three finals knocked out, then one more tomorrow and im free 💔

summary: fem! reader saves jinx from blowing herself up.

characters included: jinx

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, suicidal ideation, mentions of poor mental health, s2 spoilers, (some) fluff at the end, reader does not have ekko's time traveling skills (sorry)

men dni.

jinx stands on a ledge, dark tears staining her pale cheeks. long, blue braids gone. her shoes taken away, nail beds raw. she stands, with one of her own bombs, pulling at the safety pin. testing her own fate with each pull growing stronger and stronger.

pulling, pulling, pulling.

until she hears your footsteps, slowly looking over her shoulder. jinx looks through you, her eyes so utterly blank and dull. she looks so… defeated. she’s out of energy and out of resolve. she doesn’t say anything to you, though, only turns back to the bomb in her hands. pulling the pin one more time-

until you wordlessly sprint towards her, throwing your arms around her in a way that miraculously didn’t throw her off her balance. clasping both hands over hers, physically restraining her from putting the bomb to use.

“please, jinx, can we talk about this?”

you plead, your eyes desperately searching for any kind of reason. her eyes are downcast, her face relaxed. too relaxed. her voice comes out in a soft yet exhausted whisper.

“leave me alone, (y/n).”

“no.”

jinx tries to wriggle her hands out of your grasp, her shoulders thrashing with the movements and face contorting. she’s impatient. she wants to do this and get it over with.

“you’re too late.”

she says, still trying to escape your hold. still grasping her bomb, desperately trying to find any kind of purchase. anything. she’s given up, she’s done. there isn’t a point.

“too late for what?”

you gasp, now in a full wrestle with your girlfriend. wrapped around jinx from behind, your hands over hers, sharp nails scratching your skin and jinx writhing. grunting. she’s so frustrated yet so empty, and it makes your heart ache inside your chest. with the loss of isha, being thrown in jail, losing almost everyone she had… you understood jinx. finding motivation to keep living was already difficult enough for her, but almost all of those things had been ripped away from her.

it rips you into pieces seeing your girlfriend like this. you’ve seen it all: her breakdowns. screaming and crying because voices and hallucinations won’t leave her alone. her trying to act as if she doesn’t care when she gets blown off by her sister. coming home with bruises and cuts from god knows where after a mission, or even worse, coming home an inch from death. but never have you seen jinx like this.

jinx’s knees buckle under her and she falls to the ground, but your grasp is still strong.

“drop it, jinx.”

“no.”

“drop it.”

and to your surprise, she does drop it. you hoped to whatever was out there that this was the end of it, that she would give up. she would go home with you and finally tell you exactly what brought her to this point. stationery, the bomb falls on the floor, rolling away from the both of you and jinx staying in that kneeling position.

until she doesn’t.

“i’m tired of talking.”

she mutters under her breath, making her way to a ledge without so much as looking back at you. your senses are blown into full panic mode as you spring to your feet to sprint towards her, reaching for her braids to restrain her from stepping over- but they’re gone. your hand shot to the clasp of her top. holding jinx in place as if her life depended on it, probably because it did.

“jinx, baby, please. i know that things have been hard, you’re not happy. but you have to stay alive. for me, if nothing or nobody else. please.”

you plead. you circle jinx to stand in front of her, placing your hands on her shoulders gently. almost afraid that she’ll break if you handle her too harshly, especially after just restraining her to stop her from killing herself. your eyes are filled with tears just waiting to spill, your lips pressed into a thin line. and then you feel jinx begin to tremble.

like a bridge that's lost its foundation, shaking and threatening to combust. her breathing is getting quicker, her eyes are darting from place to place to place, but never once settling on you.

"jinx."

you squeeze her shoulders, looking into her eyes, desperately trying to get through to your girlfriend. there has to be something you can do, surely. how come nothing is working? you've already pulled out all of the stops, what more could you do? what, if anything, would be successful? the tears in your eyes spill over, but you don't make any sound. you can't. you have to hold it together for jinx's sake.

jinx swallows tentatively. quivering.

"i... i can't do this anymore."

"of course you can," you whisper. reaching up to cup one of her cheeks with your hand, but she jerks away.

"everyone i get close to dies. or they leave. mylo, claggor, vander, isha... will you be next?"

she asks, finally locking eyes with you. it's clear that it's a rhetorical question- jinx doesn't want an answer. she wouldn't be able to handle an answer, not right now.

“no. no. i’m not leaving, jinx- and i don’t plan on dying any time soon. please, listen to me.”

you beg her, still looking into her eyes, half-lidded and glowing pink. one hand coming up to try and cup jinx’s cheek again, and this time, she allows it. this is a good sign. you’re getting somewhere.

“i have to break the cycle. i have to do something to fix all of this,” she says. “i’ve done so much i can’t come back from. what else is there to do?”

“walk away.” you whisper.

“what?”

“walk away. you don’t need to die, jinx, walk away. go somewhere. take me with you. you can still break the cycle without doing this.”

your thumb is brushing her cheek, your own cheeks stained with dried tears.

“what is your death going to fix? if anything, it’ll cause more pain. zaun will be fine if you walk away, but could you imagine what would happen if you died?”

jinx looks down, and another tear falls from your eye.

“please, you have to stay. i’ll come with you. i’ll do anything. just please, baby, don’t die. i don’t know what i would do with myself if you did.”

you plead with jinx. desperation is obvious in your tone, her jaw quivering, threatening to cry herself. she’s spent.

you feel jinx’s hand slowly, hesitantly coming to rest atop yours on her cheek, and all she does is nod. slowly.

“let’s go home.”

you whisper, brushing a lock of hair from out of her eyes.

“what do i do from here?”

jinx asks, her voice low and unsure.

“we’ll figure something out. i promise.”

[alexandralyman]

Frankie Morales x Reader fic

A little "friends with benefits" Frankie fic for my partner in crime @meanderingcaptainswanmusings - who loves Frankie Morales like I love Dave York!

Summary: You and Frankie are friends. Just friends and nothing more. But after a bad breakup with your dickhead ex and a failed attempt at a Tinder hookup, you find yourself on Frankie's doorstep one Saturday night in a bodycon dress and fuck-me heels. Turns out, Frankie is more than willing to oblige. After all, what are friends for?

8,221 words, rated E for general sexytimes and Frankie's skill with his mouth. AO3 link here

Hope you Frankie fans enjoy!

Frankie With Benefits

You step out of the Uber, muttering your thanks to the driver while closing the door with your phone already in hand to give him five stars and a good tip despite your foul mood. It wasn’t his fault that your date was such a disaster after all, plus he didn’t try to make small talk and played good music instead of some douchey podcast. You can still hear the faint Cuban rhythms as he drives off into the sultry Florida night, it’s both hot and humid as per usual and the contrast between the ice-cold AC in the car to the nearly triple-digit temps outside is a shock to your system that distracts you from noticing something is off until it’s too late.

”Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

While the building in front of you is very familiar, it’s decidedly not your apartment complex. Your plans of changing out of your tight dress and fuck-me heels into some ratty old pjs and killing the bottle of wine chilling away in your fridge while you delete Tinder for good because men fucking suck has just been thrown a major curveball. You open Uber back up to check your ride history and squint at the screen through the false eyelashes that took forever to put on, realizing with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you must have tapped on the wrong destination when you left the bar in such a rush while telling your date where to shove it. That’s the only explanation as to why you’re not currently looking at your front entrance.

You’re looking directly at Frankie’s house instead.

Fuck.

Standing at the end of his driveway feeling very self-conscious in your bodycon dress with your driver already long gone, you go to book a new ride so you can slip away before any of Frankie’s nosy neighbors start to wonder about the woman loitering on their quiet little street in an outfit that’s decidedly not “family friendly.” Or worse, before Frankie sees you. A minute ticks by, then two, and no drivers pop up, not even with ridiculous surge pricing that you’ll gladly pay just to get home.

“C’mon, c’mon. Ugh!”

You finally give up as the streets nearby stay frustratingly empty on the little map, stuffing your phone into your purse with a sigh and turning to face Frankie’s house. His living room light is on so he’s obviously home and not out with the guys tonight, you can see the soft yellow glow through the curtains like a beacon offering safe harbor after a shitty evening.

It’s Frankie. If you can’t be alone in your apartment drowning your sorrows in grocery store wine, there’s really nowhere else you’d rather be.

“He needs to resurface his driveway,” you mutter under your breath as you carefully pick your way up the asphalt towards his front door. You’re certainly not wobbling with every step because you wore stilettos that make your butt look great but you can’t actually walk properly in. That’s your story and you’re sticking to it. You manage to make it all the way without breaking an ankle, knocking and wondering if it would be less embarrassing to head barefoot to the bus stop at the corner instead of admitting why you’re here. But before you can kick them off and make a break for it Frankie answers, blinking in confusion when he sees you standing on his doorstep in a dress with a neckline that plunges more than an Olympic diver and shoes that cost half a month’s rent, feeling like a complete idiot.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up to scratch behind his neck as he takes you in with those dark, expressive eyes of his. “Um…did we have plans tonight, or something?

He stares openly at your cleavage for a moment before his gaze snaps back up to your face with a sheepish look. If it was any other man you’d be annoyed, but Frankie has never ogled or leered at you in all the time you’ve been friends, and you did just show up unannounced at his door with your tits on full display, after all. You don’t mind if he takes a peek, someone might as well get to appreciate them tonight.

“No,” you reassure him. “Can I come in? I just bailed on a shitty date and must have accidentally picked your address when I ordered an Uber instead of mine. I tried to book another one to take me home but there’s no drivers around right now.”

Frankie nods. “Sure, sure, of course,” he says, shuffling aside to let you in and closing the door behind you with a soft click. You kick off your heels with a sigh because it would be rude to wear them in his house and not because they’re absolutely killing your feet, letting them tangle with his sneakers and already feeling a little better.

“Mi casa et su casa,” he adds with a gallant sweep of his arm once you’re safely inside.

You’ve spent a decent amount of time at Casa Morales since you first met Frankie a few years ago and quickly became friends with him, coming over for everything from backyard BBQs with his Delta Force buddies and their families, to movie nights on his couch just the two of you, to hauling your laundry over in his truck when the machines in your building went out of order again and he insisted that you use his instead of spending money at a laundromat. You know your way around his place. His house is small, but it’s bright and airy just like the ones you sigh over while browsing Zillow in your apartment, and while Frankie’s life can be messy at times (mainly thanks to said Delta Force buddies, Santiago Garcia in particular) he keeps his home neat and tidy and welcoming. When you go into the living room there’s nothing out of place, just a half-eaten bowl of chips and a bottle of beer on the coffee table. On a coaster, no less. The TV is still on, he was obviously enjoying a quiet night in for one when you crashed his evening in a dress that revealed more than it covered and shoes your credit card and arches were both still recovering from.

He follows you in, his presence at your back familiar and comforting despite your current “men fucking suck” state of mind. Frankie’s the lone exception at the moment.

“I’d drive you home but I’ve already had a few beers tonight. Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

You wave off the apology in his voice. “It’s fine, I’ll just give it a few minutes and book another ride.”

“Uh, about that….”

You turn and look at him, confused. He gives you a “don’t shoot the messenger” look with both hands raised and nods towards the TV.

“The game just finished. All the Uber drivers are going to be down at the stadium by now.”

“Son of a bitch,” you swear, closing your eyes in frustration. You couldn’t have picked a worse night to get stranded without a ride, everyone within a twenty mile radius of the stadium knows it’s impossible to get an Uber after any big event. Frankie knows it, you know it, you just didn’t plan on your date being a lying asshole and having to compete with twenty thousand sportsball fans for a lift home. That’s it, you were done with dating apps for good, if you hadn’t downloaded Tinder again you could be at home in bed right now having a threesome with your wine and your vibrator and as a bonus your feet wouldn’t hurt.

Yeah, you’re pretty sure you have a few blisters. The damn shoes were just like men, looked so great at first and then rubbed you in all the wrong places.

“Sooooo,” Frankie drawls when you flop down ungracefully on his couch, eyeing you carefully from his tactical position behind the coffee table. “You were on a date tonight? I thought you said you’d given up on dating after Dickface McDickhead….oh fuck, please tell me you’re not back together with that asshole again?”

His nickname for your ex always makes you snort. Frankie was never his biggest fan. He wasn’t Frankie’s either, hating the fact that you two were such good friends. When you finally broke up with him for good, Frankie threw a BBQ the following weekend and grilled you the best steak you’d ever eaten with a huge smile on his face.

”What are we celebrating?” Santi asked when he arrived, putting down the beer he’d brought and eyeing the streamers and balloons decorating Frankie’s backyard in confusion.

“The fact that I won’t go to jail for throwing trash out of my helicopter,” Frankie said.

Santi stared blankly at him. “The fuck are you on about, Fish?”

Frankie just grinned at you over Santi’s shoulder while you rolled your eyes and grabbed one of the drinks. He even had a party hat perched jauntily on top of his ballcap, and a piñata hanging up in the yard, “for the kids”.

You took a few good swings at it with the bat he handed you while picturing your ex’s face on the paper-mache.

The mere thought of getting back with Drew, aka Dickface, makes you shudder. “No, I’m not back with him, and I’m still done with dating.”

You swipe some chips out of the bowl and tuck your legs under you, ignoring how high it makes your dress ride up your thighs with only a token effort to tug it back down.

“You’re done with dating, but you were out on a date? Little confused here.”

Frankie sits down on the other end of the couch, muting the post-game recap on the TV and turning so that he’s facing you. He’s all casual in jeans and a faded T-shirt that stretches over his broad shoulders when he twists, hair falling on his forehead in a mop of messy curls without his usual hat to cover them. You should feel out of place in your sexy little dress, full-glam makeup and the “effortless beachy waves” that took you an hour, three different tutorials and a whole fucking lot of effort to achieve, but you’re far more comfortable here with him than you were with the man you ditched back at the trendy bar full of wannabe influencers with insanely overpriced cocktails. Comfortable enough to tell him the truth, with a little help from the tequila in the deconstructed margaritas that you drank.

“It was supposed to be a hookup,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks go warm in a combination of embarrassment and alcohol.

His eyes go wide at that and he lets out a little cough of surprise. “That explains the dress,” he says, glancing down at it again before quickly looking back up at your face.

You wave a hand up and down yourself. “Dress, shoes, lip gloss,” you list off, not mentioning the rather skimpy new underwear that you’re one wrong move away from flashing him with. “I was tired of sitting home alone on Saturday nights, you know?”

”Hey!” he protests, and you duck your head with a wince. It’s Saturday night and he was sitting home alone until you showed up.

“Sorry. No offense, Frankie.”

“None taken, cariño. But only because it’s you.”

The casual endearment makes you feel even warmer, or maybe it’s just the Patrón you downed before leaving Mr. Talk, Dark, and Liar Liar Pants on Fire back at the bar hitting your system.

“Deconstructed margarita” your ass, it was a shot of triple sec and a shot of tequila with a hideous up charge, and they didn’t even include the lime.

You could leave it at that, suggest watching a shitty Netflix movie to pass the time until you can finally book an Uber and go home to change into something that isn’t squeezing your ribs into new and interesting positions and drink the finest chardonnay Publix had for under ten dollars. Frankie won’t push, won’t judge, you’ve been friends long enough to know that. You’ve seen each other through various highs and lows over the years, he was the first person you called when you got a promotion that you’d worked your ass off for, and when he found out his ex-fiancée was getting married you were the one who picked him up at the bar where he was drowning his sorrows and brought him home to drunkenly cry on your shoulder until he passed out.

If there’s anyone in the world who you can trust with this, it’s him.

“Those last few months with You Know Who,” you start, meaning your ex and not Voldemort despite their many similarities, “we were fighting like all the time. I knew deep down our relationship had become this flaming dumpster fire, but for some stupid reason I kept splashing water on it trying to put it out instead of walking away. And then we had the worst fight ever, and he said…he said-”

You could really do with another shot of tequila for some liquid courage right now. You settle for drinking the last of Frankie’s beer instead while he watches you carefully, tipping the bottle back to get every drop and then setting it down on the coaster with an audible thump.

“-he said I was a frigid bitch in bed and he would have better sex fucking a blow up doll instead of me. That’s what finally did it, I told him we were over. He tried to apologize and begged for another chance, but I just kept hearing it over and over again in my head and I was done. Finally done.”

A muscle ticks in Frankie’s jaw like the countdown clock on a bomb, you can see it even through the scruff of his patchy beard. He glances away for a second and you see his eyes close while he mutters under his breath in Spanish too soft and too fast for you to understand before his gaze snaps back to yours.

“I take it back, he’s not a dickhead,” he says, sounding completely calm. “That’s an insult to actual dickheads. And he’s going to be lucky if he can still run his mouth like that once I’ve knocked out all his teeth.”

Even though he’s ex-military Frankie has never been one for that bullshit macho posturing, which is one of the things you like so much about him. He breaks up bar fights, he doesn’t start them. To see him now, so calm and collected but with such an intense expression and not a hint on his face that he’s kidding or exaggerating, it sends a jolt right through you. His threat to your dickhead of an ex-boyfriend shouldn’t be so sexy, but….

Damn.

You reach out and flick him lightly on the shoulder. “He’s not worth it, and I really don’t want to have to bail your ass out of jail at three in the morning again, Morales.”

“Hey, that was one time!” he protests, adding in a mumble. “And it was Santi’s dumb idea.”

His annoyed pout just makes you laugh, shaking your head at how closely he resembles his namesake when he juts his lower lip out like that. Cutest catfish ever.

“So,” he drawls, after you stop chuckling, “since you didn’t go back to that asshole, thank fuck, then who was the lucky guy tonight? Or unlucky guy, since you ditched him for far better company.”

You shrug, plucking idly at the fabric of your dress. “Just someone I matched with on Tinder. I really wanted to prove Dickface wrong, you know? That I wasn’t uptight and sucked in bed. Swiped right on someone who didn’t have a douchey shirtless mirror selfie in his profile, we met for drinks and everything was going great until a text popped up on his phone while he was showing me a picture of his dog. From his wife.”

Frankie winces. “Seriously?”

The notification lingered on the screen while he frantically tried to swipe it away, not that it would do any good. You were a fast reader, you’d already read the whole thing.

“Yeah. Letting him know there were leftovers waiting for him in the fridge when he got home from work, with a bunch of kiss emojis and a ‘love you babe’. He tried to do the whole, ‘it’s not what you think, we have an open marriage’ bullshit, which sure, I bet he does, so I told him to call his wife and put her on speaker so we could clear that right up.”

“That’s my girl,” Frankie grins.

The praise flows through you like the tequila, remembering how your date went pale as a ghost while you stared him down and his immediate attempts to backpedal.

“Obviously he suddenly had a million reasons why he couldn’t, so I stuck him with the bill and left. Hope he had the decency to tip, at least.”

You let your head fall back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The adrenaline rush you’ve been riding since you told off Dickhead McDickface the Second and stormed out of the bar on your fuck-me heels is wearing off. You got fucked all right, fucked over.

“I really can pick em, can’t I?” you ask, a rhetorical question if ever there was one. “Went from one asshole to another. A married asshole, no less.”

There’s a rustle of movement to your left and a touch to your shoulder that makes you turn your head to see Frankie has shifted closer to you on the couch and tilted his head to match the angle of yours while he brushes his knuckles lightly down your arm.

“Hey, do you remember that woman I went on a first date with last year who brought her fifteen year old brother along? And we were supposed to see Poor Things? Who brings their brother on a date, let alone to a movie with that many sex scenes? Really, really, explicit sex scenes?”

You do remember, thanks to the texts he sent you with increasing speed until he was blowing up your phone and you’d barely finished one before the next popped up.

She brought her kid with her?

Wait, not her kid, it’s her brother.

Dude’s like 13, what the hell?????

Okay, apparently he’s 15 he’s just “short”. THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!!!!!!

WE’RE SEEING POOR THINGS??!!!!!

WHAT?

WTF?????????

PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S ANOTHER MOVIE WITH THE SAME TITLE THAT DOESN’T HAVE NAKED EMMA STONE IN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, what do I do?

This is so fucking weird!!!!!!!! SHE BROUGHT HER BROTHER TO THE WEIRD NAKED EMMA STONE SEX MOVIE!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His bewilderment came right through the screen with the increasing number of exclamation points and the memory makes you giggle. You still can’t think of Poor Things as anything except The Weird Naked Emma Stone Sex Movie thanks to Frankie.

“See?” he says with a smile, “I can’t pick ‘em either. First date was over before the movie even started and I’d already spent like fifty bucks on popcorn and drinks. Still follow her brother on Instagram though, he’s cool.”

You laugh even harder at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Dating suuuucks,” you whine in your best angsty teenager impression.

“It sucks so much,” Frankie agrees. “Fuck that married guy. Wait, no, don’t fuck that married guy.”

Now you’re both laughing, so close to each other on the couch that you’re practically touching at the knees. You think to yourself that Frankie has such a nice smile, none of that closed-mouth, thin-lipped thing some guys do as if smiling is an affront to their manhood. Frankie’s smile takes over his whole face, his eyes going squinty and crinkling adorably at the corners.

“I promise I won’t fuck that married guy,” you swear with mock solemnity, crossing your fingers over your heart like a Boy Scout when you finally stop laughing. You let your hand drop to the cushion in between the two of you and close your eyes with a sigh. “Even though I really, really, really need to get laid.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you freeze, scarcely daring to breathe even as you’re sure you hear a sharp inhale from Frankie at the unguarded confession. He’s so close to you on the couch. So close.

When you gather the courage to open your eyes and meet his dark gaze the air around you has changed, heavy with the weight of what you just said. Neither one of you moves to put a platonic distance back between you like so many other evenings on this couch when you get too close, sharing pizza and drinks and conversation for hours.

Maybe it wasn’t such an accident that you ended up here, with him, tonight.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asks in a voice so low and thick with promise that it makes your stomach flip and a sharp throb hits you even lower down.

“Anything?” you repeat, your own voice higher than normal. Is he really offering that?

Frankie picks up your hand from where it lays on the couch, lifting it and keeping your eyes locked while he raises it to his mouth and brushes a slow, deliberate kiss along the back that makes you shiver as every last nerve ending rises to attention and begs for more.

“Anything,” he murmurs against your skin. “Say the word.”

His large thumb strokes over the fluttering pulse in your wrist, back and forth, back and forth, while his heavy-lidded eyes stare into yours.

You can’t say you’ve never thought about it, because you definitely have. Frankie’s stupidly attractive, with those thick curls that always escape out from under his baseball caps and his Roman coin profile. But when you first met he was still with his ex, and then he was single but you weren’t, the timing never quite working out for anything between you except friendship and nothing else. Hell, by now he’s pretty much your best friend, the one you would call if you needed to bury a body knowing he’d bring the shovel. There’s no one else you trust as much as Frankie Morales, and there’s no one else you want as much as you want him, right here, right now.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, saying the words you always wanted to say to him.

He shuffles closer, his other hand sliding behind your neck as he brings your lips together. It’s a little clumsy at first, your nose bumping his before he fits his mouth to yours. You feel his fingers press to the nape of your neck and the brush of his knee against your while he kisses you carefully, so soft and sweet and gentle.

At first.

Heat washes over you and it’s all because of Frankie, his kiss turning hot and hungry and demanding. You gasp into his mouth and kiss him back just as eagerly, hands fisting in his T-shirt to pull him closer. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat that you can practically feel, a sexy cross between a groan and a grunt, and pulls away from your mouth far too soon. But before you can protest the loss with more than a pout and pull him back, he’s dusting more kisses under the hinge of your jaw and along your neck, mapping a hot trail down the wide swath of bare skin your dress reveals between your breasts and nuzzling his face right into your cleavage. His hands go to your hips, bunching the fabric and pulling it up impatiently to your waist as he moves even lower. Everything happens so fast that it makes your head spin far more than the tequila and you lean back on the couch for support with your chest heaving and groping for any part of him you can reach. Frankie kneels on the floor, pulling your new underwear off as he goes and you lift your hips to help with anticipation pooling low in your stomach at the realization of what he’s planning to do.

He spreads your thighs apart and looks down between them at where you’re now completely bare and practically dripping with a rush of arousal. His gaze is dark, hungry, a look like nothing you’ve ever seen before on his face replacing his usual easygoing expression.

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” he says in that low voice, staring straight at your pussy. “All pink and perfect and needy for some attention, isn’t she? Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take very good care of her.”

The breath catches in your throat at that, more than a little shocked by the filthy promise in his words. No man you’ve ever been with has ever said anything remotely like that. Your nipples are firm points against your dress and you must be glistening with how wet you already are. Frankie kisses your inner thigh and mumbles, “lie back a little more for me,” while pulling gently on your hips to position you the way he wants. You’re not about to refuse him anything at this point and you slide lower, feeling your dress ride up even more as you do. While you’re not fully naked yet you feel so exposed, lying with your legs wide open on the same couch where you’ve watched so many bad movies and argued over words while playing Scrabble, because military acronyms don’t fucking count, Catfish! Now he’s nestled between your bare thighs with his wide shoulders wedging them apart and you wonder dimly why you spent all that time not doing this, his insanely kissable mouth so close to your pussy that you can feel his warm breath when he exhales. It makes you tremble with anticipation and Frankie looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken question behind them. You nod, answering without words. You want this.

He licks you, a slow, broad swipe with the flat of his tongue that has your head falling back and your legs spreading shamelessly wider. Then he does it again, and again, and again, burying his face so deep that you wonder vaguely how he’s even managing to breathe. He doesn’t come up for air anytime soon, holding you firm against his mouth with his hands wrapped around your thighs and seeking out every last spot that makes you writhe and grind against him with moans and cries that you can’t hold back spilling from your lips. It’s loud, both the noises you make and the wet sound of him eating you out like you’re a feast and he’s been starved for days. Frankie makes his tongue a firm point and thrusts it inside you while keeping you spread, the feeling so intimate and erotic that your clit throbs and you absently cup a breast to ease the ache in your stiff nipple. He fucks you with his tongue a few times before he gives you another one of those long, slow licks that go the full length from bottom to top and he zeroes in on your needy clit as if he had a map leading him right to it. You feel his lips close around the swollen bud with a hard suck that has you squeezing your breast with one hand and sinking the other into his messy curls.

“Oh fuck,” you manage to gasp, “Frankie, it’s so good. So good.”

He finally pulls back long enough to rasp, “I want you to come all over my face, baby,” before diving back in. You feel the prod of a thick finger against your dripping entrance, slipping in easily and soon it’s moving in tandem with the flick of his tongue over your clit. The dual sensation makes you whimper, tugging on his hair to urge him closer and rocking your hips. Another finger joins the first, stretching you even more and pressing along your velvety inner walls until he suddenly curls them and hits that spot, the one you almost forgot was there. He strokes it and it’s nothing but bone-melting, toe-curling pleasure that builds and builds relentlessly under your skin until there’s nowhere else for it to go.

You cry out, your climax hitting with the force of a tidal wave and crashing over you. Frankie groans, a low rumble coming from his position between your legs as he clearly feels it in the squeeze around his fingers and the rush of more hot arousal that makes you even wetter and slicker. He rubs it all over his face just like he wanted, his fingers pumping in a lazy rhythm in and out of you until it’s finally over and you’re left limp and boneless on his couch with your dress bunched to your waist and one strap hanging off your shoulder. You’re not sure exactly how you ended up like this, from knocking on his door ready to swear off men forever less than an hour ago to half-naked and panting from the best orgasm you’ve had since….ever. When you manage to lift your head from the cushion to look at him his expression is just as dazed as yours must be even as his lips gleam and his cheeks and chin are damp with you.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving under his T-shirt like he just ran a marathon. “Fuck, are you okay? Was that okay?”

Even with the AC blasting there’s still not enough air in the room, it takes you a moment to find some so you can answer him. “Yeah….yeah, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

Okay is an understatement, you don’t even smoke and yet you’re ready for a cigarette now. You don’t even make any move to tug your dress down and cover yourself, one leg still loosely propped on Frankie’s shoulder. He rubs a soothing hand on your thigh and carefully dislodges it so he can stand up, revealing the prominent bulge in his jeans that’s now perfectly at your eye level. Your pussy clenches and throbs at the sight, he got that hard just from going down on you? He follows your gaze and smirks a little when he sees where you’re looking, brushing his hand against his fly.

“All for you, baby,” he says, and reaches to pull you to your feet. “Not on the couch though. Bedroom. I want you in my bed.”

Bed, couch, floor, you really don’t care and you’re already fumbling with his belt buckle and tugging his T-shirt out of his jeans. You drag your nails along the sensitive skin of his stomach right above his waistband and relish the way it makes him shudder, the muscles contracting under your touch. When you look up again he immediately swoops down and kisses you, this time with the taste of you still clinging to his lips and your scent all over his face. It’s raw and messy, tongues and teeth and the little sound of triumph you make when you finally get his belt open. You feel him smile against your mouth while he starts to walk backwards and you have to follow him to work on your next goal, getting his T-shirt off. He’s leading you towards his bedroom, and thank God his house is a bungalow so you don’t have to waste time going up stairs. All that’s between the two of you and his bed is a hallway, and it might as well be one of those funhouse corridors at the county fair with the way you’re both bumping against the walls and tripping over your own feet trying to navigate it. Frankie unabashedly gropes your ass with those large hands of his while he kisses you, not paying attention to where he’s going and knocking pictures on the wall askew with his shoulders. You keep tugging and pulling at his T-shirt, trying to get it off and thwarted by the fact that he won’t let go of your butt long enough to lift his arms.

“Frankie,” you whine against his mouth, shoving fistfuls of cotton up his back, “off!”

He finally pulls back and yanks the shirt over his head with enough force that you’re sure he just completely stretched out the neck, tossing it aside without bothering to see where it lands. The warm expanse of his broad chest presses against you almost immediately, with what feels like miles and miles of bare skin under your exploring hands. His lips fasten to your neck and you tilt your head back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. You’ll have to cover it before work on Monday, but, fuck it. That’s what concealer is for. If he wants to cover you in hickies like you’re teenagers having their first makeout session, you’ll let him. You’ll let him do whatever he wants at this point.

“Hang on.”

“It’s the only warning you get before he hauls you up with his hands under your thighs, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He carries you the last few steps into the bedroom and closes the door with a kick of his foot that makes it slam shut. The sound makes you start before you grin down at him.

“Impatient, much?”

“To have you in my bed at last?” he says, matching your grin with his own goofy smile. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

You can take the man out of the military but you can’t take the military out of the man, Frankie’s bed is made with such sharp precision that it seems a shame to mess it up.

Almost.

The mattress dips when he sets you down, knocking a pillow aside and the duvet no longer perfectly crisp at the edges. You go up on your knees while he stands next to the bed, reaching for where his belt hangs open and using it to tug him closer. It doesn’t take much work to pop open the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down, the sound of the metal teeth parting shockingly loud against the quiet of the room. You reach a hand in and feel the heat of his skin even through the soft material of his underwear, while he stands as still as a statue except for the rise and fall of his chest. He lets you touch and explore and you trace the very long and thick outline of his erection as it twitches and presses eagerly against your hand. Fuck, Frankie is big. The kind of big that’s going to stretch you so deliciously. The kind of big that you’re going to feel the day after. Maybe even longer.

And it’s all yours tonight.

His jeans are quickly joined on the floor by your dress, as you go from bodycon to full frontal. You might have been nervous about finally getting completely naked, if it wasn’t for the unexpected sight of the pattern on his boxer-briefs.

“Frankie,” you laugh, “you actually have fish themed underwear?”

Sure enough, there’s several different types of fish swimming around on the fabric, including his whiskered namesake. When you look back up from the cartoon catfish smiling jauntily across his groin you can see that his ears have gone bright red in embarrassment.

“It was a gag gift from the guys,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes, “they’re really comfortable, and well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to take my pants off in front of anyone tonight, you know.”

You rest your hands on the waistband and trace a nail along the bare skin just above, trying and failing to stifle the urge to giggle.

“Wanna put your pants back on then?” you ask, teasing the sensitive spot below his navel.

“Fuck no.”

His lips crash back down on yours again, his arms circling your waist. The Finding Nemo joke you were about to make is immediately forgotten as you blindly peel the boxers off, letting the school of fish puddle at his feet and immediately get kicked away. You wrap a hand around his cock, so long and thick that it makes you ache with the thought of having it inside you. God, you need this. You need him.

Frankie lets out a deep groan against your mouth when you start to stroke, dragging your hand up and down the length of him from root to tip and back again. You rub your thumb over the sensitive head and twist your fingers under the crown, teasing out all the sensitive spots and figuring out what he likes. A hard grip, bordering on rough, has his chest heaving and his hips jerking while his cock throbs in your hand.

“Jesus Christ,” he bites out. “Like that, baby, just like that.”

The sheer unguarded pleasure on his face gives you everything you wanted tonight with your dress and the heels and the lacy underwear. You feel sexy. Desired. Powerful. Able to bring a man to his knees with your touch. Literally, Frankie’s legs start to buckle and he has to brace himself against the bed to stay upright. You keep stroking him until he finally pulls your hand away gently and kisses your open palm before joining you on the bed. He practically jumps onto it in his eagerness, making you bounce with the movement.

“Condom?” he asks, twisting towards his nightstand, “I have some-“

“I’m good,” you interrupt. You want to feel him inside you without that barrier. “I’m on the pill.”

His arm drops from where he was reaching for the drawer. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all month.”

You never would have fucked your Tinder date without a condom, but this is Frankie. Your Frankie. You trust him. He rolls on top of you and your trust only grows when he hesitates, looking down into your eyes.

“Are you absolutely sure about this? We can always stop.”

He pushes a lock of hair out of your face with a gentle touch and you know without a doubt that if you wanted to stop he would without complaint even though he hasn’t come yet. You run your hands up his arms and feel the tension in his biceps, the strain of holding himself back. He’s braced above you, his hair a complete mess, gorgeously naked and hard as a rock, and you are one hundred percent sure about this.

“I don’t wanna stop.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, a perfect fit between your thighs. Frankie angles his hips while he leans down for another kiss and you feel the hot slide of his cock as he finds your entrance with that pilot’s accuracy of his, then the press of the blunt head as he starts to push inside. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to the stretch and burn. And it does burn, in the very best way. It’s been months since you’ve had sex, and far longer since you’ve had good sex, your frustration had built to a fever pitch under your skin and Frankie just lit a match. You both feel it when you open for him fully, that final slide is smooth and easy and he buries himself right to the hilt.

“Fuuuck,” he bites out. “Took me so fucking good, perfect fucking pussy.”

His dick is pretty damn perfect too, in your opinion, filling you up and creating the most delicious friction when he starts to move. You pull his head down for another kiss before he buries his face in your neck and rocks his hips into yours, gradually building the rhythm while you run your hands along his back and feel the muscles ripple and flex with each thrust. It’s everything you needed and more, the thick drag of him inside you has you arching your back and crying out and it only seems to spur him on even more. He plants a knee on the bed and lifts your leg, shifting his hips so that he can go even deeper. You clutch helplessly at his sheets when the tip of his cock finds your sweet spot and make a noise you don’t even recognize, a throaty moan pulls from your throat while your toes curl and your pussy throbs.

“Frankie,” you manage to gasp, clutching both his shoulders and gripping him even tighter from the inside, “oh god, there! Right there!”

“That’s it baby,” he murmurs into your skin. “Come all over my cock.”

He leans over you, thrusting hard and balancing on one hand to reach down with the other so he can work your swollen clit. The first swipe of his fingers on the sensitive bud sends a jolt through your entire body that melts into sheer unadulterated pleasure. With a few more you’re teetering right on the edge, and then Frankie grinds especially deep on his next thrust and presses down hard with his thumb. It grips you and doesn’t let go, your second climax of the night is even stronger than the first and has you squeezing him as if you’re trying to drag him even further inside, contracting along the length of his cock while he grits his teeth and fucks you through it. When the aftershocks finally stop and you relax back into the mattress with a sigh Frankie pulls out, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips and laying down next to you.

It takes you a few moments in your post-orgasmic haze to notice that he’s still hard, his cock is practically flush to his stomach and glistening with your arousal.

“You didn’t?” you ask, confused as you glance down.

He follows your gaze with a strangely bashful look. “Not yet. I want…I want you to ride me.”

That sends another hot rush right between your legs, suddenly wanting it desperately too. You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to walk afterwards, especially not in those stupid heels, but it’s going to be so fucking worth it.

Frankie stretches out fully on the bed, those long legs and broad shoulders taking up so much space on it. Luckily there’s more than enough room for you right there on his lap. You swing a leg over, hands pressing down on his chest for balance while he looks up at you with that crooked grin he always gets when he’s especially pleased about something. A sinful roll of your hips along his thick erection only makes his smile wider when he feels how wet you still are.

“Take me in,” he begs shamelessly, hips moving under you and hands roaming over your skin. “Please, baby.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

It’s another delicious stretch, sliding down his thick erection and feeling him rub you in all sorts of interesting new ways from this angle. Once you’re seated fully you give yourself a moment before you start to move, his heart racing under your palm and his cock held snug and warm deep inside you.

Frankie’s done so much already for you tonight, this is for him. You want to give him just as much pleasure as he gave you, make it just as good for him when you start to roll your hips again to take him in again and again and again. His hands find your thighs and flex against them while he watches with a rapt expression, eyes glued to where you’re joined before looking up to take in the full sight of you riding him just as he wanted.

“Good?” you ask, gasping the word out.

“So fucking good,” he groans. His hips lift under you right as you go down on the next stroke and it’s even better, the way you just fit. You use muscles you didn’t even know you had, increasing your pace and riding him hard. The cords on his neck pop when he throws his head back against the pillow, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring with each exhale of breath. He has to be close, you can sense it in the increasingly desperate noises he makes and the way his fingers dig into your skin as he holds you steady on top of him. Your breasts bounce and your thighs are burning with the effort of maintaining the rhythm but you don’t stop, can’t stop, you need Frankie to fall apart just like he’s done for you twice already. You want to see the look on his face and hear the noises he makes when he comes, adding a circle of your hips that makes his eyes close and his body jerk under you. He feels even harder now, and your legs aren’t the only thing that’s burning. Frankie is hitting every sweet spot inside of you, filling you so deep and full that the familiar prickle and spark is starting again. You weren’t expecting to come for a third time, but then again you weren’t expecting anything else that happened tonight and it’s definitely happening. Frankie thrusts up with a growl, yanking you down on him with the same motion and holding you there while you feel him pulse hot and he lets out a long, loud moan like no other noise he’s made all night. The sound and the sensation make you molten, almost there and even deep in the throes of his own pleasure he reaches for your clit and gives it a pinch that’s all you need to fall over the edge with him. With your hands braced on his chest you throw your head back and let it wash over you while you keep rolling your hips to draw out more and more of those gorgeous sounds out of him until he finally starts to soften. You collapse in a heap on his chest and his arms immediately wrap around you, lips brushing against the top of your head while you bury your face against his sweaty chest and your heartbeats slowly go back to normal.

It’s nice.

It’s more than nice.

You could get used to it.

You can’t. You shouldn’t. You’re just friends.

Friends who just fucked rather spectacularly.

Fuck.

After a few moments you slide off of him to lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling instead of at him. Now things are going to be all weird and awkward and as amazing as the sex was, it wasn’t worth the inevitable end of your friendship. Silence stretches between you and creates more and more space in its wake.

“There’s probably Ubers available now,” you say at last, keeping your gaze away from his face so you don’t see his expression shift from lover to stranger. By the time the driver gets here you’ll have your dress back on and your feet shoved into your shoes and you and Frankie can start pretending this never happened. Maybe that will work.

There’s a snort from next to you. “Yeah. That’s not happening, I’m driving you home tomorrow. After we sleep. And shower. And stop at that diner on 53rd cause I’m gonna need one of those giant lumberjack breakfasts to recover from this.”

You feel yourself flush a bit, as ridiculous as it is considering you’re naked in his bed with “this” still sticky on your inner thighs.

“I’m not going to a diner in that dress,” you say, still looking at the ceiling and adding silently, “or those shoes that could double as torture devices.”

“So you wear one of my T-shirts or something,” Frankie’s voice trails away into a jaw-cracking yawn before he continues, “we’ll figure it out in the morning. Fuck, you really did a number on me.”

Yawning is contagious, you can feel one building and you’re suddenly on the verge of falling asleep thanks to the number he did on you and the incredibly comfortable bed that you never want to leave. Best sex you’ve had in….ever, all thanks to Frankie. But you don’t give in to the urge to just close your eyes and go to sleep, as tempting as it is, turning your head to look at your best friend instead and finding him looking back at you in the dark.

He’s still Frankie. You’re still you.

You’re still friends.

“Frankie? Will we figure…this out in the morning?”

His fingers lace with yours under the blankets and he gives you a soft smile.

“Yeah. We will, baby, I promise.”

When you fall asleep you’re on your side with Frankie plastered to your bare back, his arm firm around your waist like he’s afraid you might try to sneak away in the middle of the night. The thought had occurred to you, to escape all the morning after awkwardness. Frankie isn’t just a hookup or a one-night stand though, he means so much more to you than that. So you lay your hand over his and relax into his embrace with a sigh, wondering as you drift off if he’ll let you borrow his prized vintage AC/DC T-shirt to wear home…..

….and if he’d be up for another round in the shower in the morning.

The answer to both turns out to be a resounding yes.

[talkbycolor]

mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops

Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader

CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry

Mychael as your boyfriend.

I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.

He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.

You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate

After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.

Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.

Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.

He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.

He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.

He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))

It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.

You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.

Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.

For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.

"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.

The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.

Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.

Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.

Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.

Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.

His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)

♡

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.