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luxurychristmaspudding · 4 months ago

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You and I | On Call

part iv

summary: frankie has one last question.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. idiots in love, reader is good with kids. reader and frankie are both bi and have same sex exes. fluff, drinking. praise kink. the boys (minus tom). SMUT! fingering, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v. cum kink? creampie. frankie retains the title of pek 👑

reader is a teacher, has hair, and can be lifted by frankie (he's a big strong boy, don't worry about it) but she is otherwise a blank slate.

wc: 10.8k

an: well, here we are gang. thank you for joining me and for all your sweet words. i've been so awful with reblogging your kindness on this little thing because of how busy i was when i wrote most of it, but i want you to know i appreciate it so much. i've loved sharing these two with you - it's been a privilege <3

shoutout to @jolapeno for helping me with the chapter name, and for very gently reminding me that 20k chapters probably should be split 😉 love you <3

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

series masterlist | main masterlist

When he wakes, it’s well past twelve.

Nine hours which he imagines he probably needed, but really it puts him two hours behind.

He showers and dresses in a rush, running out the door to his truck, but still taking the time to register that your curtains have remained closed. It makes him smile, knowing you’re likely still tucked up in bed, your stories about the night before resting before they make their way to him.

He practically sprints around the supermarket, grabbing anything that even vaguely crosses his mind as something he might need. Meat, bread, salads of sorts, sauces, soft drinks, beers. He picks up your favourite dessert just in case, and then hauls the bags back to the truck, keeping a nervous eye on the time as his fingers tap against the steering wheel.

Will and Benny are already there when he gets home. Grinning, leaning against Will’s car as he pulls into the driveway.

There’s a sharp pull of joy in his chest even as Will laughs out a ‘You’re late, Fish’, pounding his back as he pulls him into a hug.

‘Can’t be late to my own fuckin’ house.’ He grumbles back, pulling Benny in in the same way.

‘Can, and you are.’ The younger man laughs.

‘Thought you might be out with your lady.’ Will teases, and Frankie flushes right to the tips of his ears.

‘She’s still asleep.’ He says without thinking, a smile pulling at his lips. It’s comical, really, the way the two men freeze and look at each other. ‘Help me with these bags, will you?’

The brothers remain unmoving, staring at him with some degree of bewilderment.

‘Still asleep?’

Frankie sighs, a little exasperated.

‘Yeah. She was out last night.’

Will’s eyes wander to Frankie’s bedroom window just as Benny’s mouth begins to form a question. The realisation dawns quickly.

‘Not in my bed,’ he scowls, ‘Next door.’

‘Oh.’

He turns his back on them, heading to his front door, arms laden with groceries. A nervous, giddy feeling swirls in his stomach.

‘Had us going for a minute there, Fish.’ Will calls after him. Frankie bites his lip against the memories of you in your living room, the desperate kisses you’ve shared since. He feels like a teenager, on the verge of spilling secrets like he’s at a sleepover.

He hums instead, flicking a glance over his shoulder to see Benny grab more stuff from the back of the truck. He grunts and grimaces under the weight, shooting a look at Frankie.

‘What do you have in here? Are we feeding the five thousand?’

Will laughs, loading his own hands with bags, tutting at his little brother.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be the athlete here?’

Benny drops one bag just to give him the finger.

‘This is my rest day, motherfucker.’

He groans again as he picks the bag back up, Frankie laughing along with Will.

‘Lift with your knees, not with your back!’ He shouts.

‘Quit telling me what to do, asshole!’ Benny hollers, the older men still chuckling as he shoulders the front door open.

Santiago arrives not too long after, setting up the last of the food - the salads out on the table, more beers in the fridge. They’ve all clocked Frankie checking his watch, checking his phone, your text that you’d be over in the next five minutes burning a fucking hole in his pocket.

He’s nervous. And they can tell.

He has the distinct impression he’s being cornered when they all turn to look at him at the same time as he fiddles with the burner on the grill. It feels ridiculous - this desire for everything to be perfect. You’ve seen him in all of his less-than-perfect moments, have never shied away. But this - today - feels different.

Pope leads the offence.

‘How’s your girl then, Fish?’

Frankie’s heart drops low in his chest before thumping hard behind his ribs, a hand coming up to try and wipe the sudden smile from his lips. He tries a gruff tone, failing miserably as soon as he speaks.

‘She’s not my girl.’

Will whistles lowly, smirking.

‘Still? We gonna have to smush you together like Barbies?’

Benny snorts, and Frankie shoots him a look which immediately makes him straighten and soften.

‘We won’t. They won’t. Scout’s honour.’

Santi takes a pull from his beer, a glint in his eye.

‘No progress at all?’ He probes.

Frankie takes a deep breath, eyes lowered to the floor before finding the deep brown of his best friend.

‘We’re… seeing each other.’ He murmurs, this time unable to hide his smile, hand scratching at the back of his head.

Silence. Quiet that puts Frankie even more on edge as he watches his friends exchange looks, as a slow smile tilts the corners of Benny’s lips.

‘Well - that’s an improvement.’ Will grins.

‘A marked improvement.’ Santi agrees.

‘So you told her how you feel?’ Benny asks, eyebrows raised.

Frankie sucks air through his teeth, clears his throat. His face grows warm, fingers twitch a little.

‘Not quite -’

Will barks a laugh.

‘Morales, you dog.’ Followed by the deep rumbles of amusement from the other two men.

‘Oh, the tried and true manoeuvre - the Catfish Canoodle.’ Benny snickers.

‘The Morales Marathon.’ Will adds, tilting his bottle to him. Pope is next, grinning lasciviously.

‘The good old Five Finger Fish Fu-’

‘Frankie?’ You call from inside the kitchen, ‘I have beers, but there’s no room in the fridge -’

You pop your head round the backdoor, beaming immediately when you catch sight of the men in the garden.

‘Oh! Hi,’ you say brightly, emerging fully. Frankie’s heart stutters. You’re wearing that sundress he remembers - hasn’t been able to forget - from when he mowed your lawn weeks ago. Gorgeous, the way it drapes over your curves, the way it lets your skin glisten in the afternoon light. He feels his shoulders drop, his whole body relax. Feels the way he goes a little weak at the knees, knows he’ll be looking lovesick in front of the boys. And he doesn’t care.

‘Sorry I’m a little late,’ you say, hopping down the porch steps towards them, ‘I wish I had a good excuse, but I just - don’t.’

Benny laughs, moving with Will and Santi to greet you. Frankie just about catches the look Santiago throws him, a sweet holy shit, brother.

‘Ah, the elusive neighbour. We were starting to think he’d made you up.’ Pope says, matching your smile. You giggle, arms outstretched as he reaches you.

‘Funny,’ you smirk, ‘I was thinking of not turning up just to prove you right.’

He laughs as he releases you, Benny sweeping you into his arms and planting a kiss on your cheek.

‘Even more beautiful than he said you were,’ he says, and Frankie watches your eyebrows shoot up as you fix him with an oh, really? look. His heart drops to his stomach, neck grinding in an effort to shake his head before a shit-eating grin splits across your face.

‘I had no idea he was so - complimentary - behind my back.’ You laugh against Will’s shoulder as he spins you around.

‘Oh, he is,’ he chuckles, placing you gently down with your back to Frankie. Frankie glowers at him half-heartedly as Will winks back, and the dark-haired man raises a finger, mouthing at him to shut - the fuck - up. ‘Feels like we’ve known you for ages.’ Will continues.

You turn, planting your hands on your hips, cocking your head at Frankie.

‘Just can’t stop talking about me, huh, Fish?’ You tease, and Frankie huffs as he pulls you in for a lingering hug, wondering if it’s too much to kiss you in front of his friends.

‘Guess not.’ He whispers into your ear.

You’re biting your lip as you pull away from him, hands lingering on his shoulders as his stall on your waist.

Will clears his throat.

‘You gonna introduce us then, Morales?’

Frankie rolls his eyes at him as he turns you around, hands at your hips, pointing a finger at each friend.

‘William Miller,’ he says, as Will pulls a face - just Will is fine - ‘Benjamin Miller,’ - Benny, please - ‘And Santiago Garcia.’

‘I’m only Santiago when I’m in trouble,’ Which is most of the time, Benny laughs. ‘Santi is much better.’

You grin as you give them your name, and Will nudges your arm with his elbow.

‘I thought we were on Bug terms.’

You laugh, batting his arm.

‘You can call me Bug if you really want to.’

Benny shrugs, squinting his baby blues at you.

‘Maybe,’ he grins, ‘But your name suits you. It’s pretty. I like it.’

Frankie rolls his eyes again, squeezing your waist against the flicker of possessiveness that rises in his gut. It’s nothing more than teasing, kindness - something they’ve almost always extended to partners welcomed into the fold. But he’s not blind - they’re a handsome group, and he wants you to himself.

‘You gotta stop that,’ you giggle, ‘Before I wanna hang out with you guys all the time.’

Will throws a gentle arm around your shoulder, leaning back to wink at Frankie.

‘Hear that, Fish?’ He chuckles, ‘She’s in.’

He groans.

‘It’s not too late to back out,’ he murmurs lowly in your ear, ‘Though we’ve got a fuckton of food.’

His heart leaps as he feels your fingers reach for his, tangling briefly before squeezing.

‘I’m stayin’,’ you promise, as Will moves around you to turn the grill on. ‘You guys put on a hell of a spread, anyway.’

From behind, Will claps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder, shunting the younger man forward a little.

‘That would all be Fish. Must be a special occasion.’ He smirks, and Frankie looks up to the heavens to try and stop his wish for the ground to swallow him up.

‘Sure is,’ you smile, ‘Feelin’ pretty lucky to be meeting you guys.’

‘Pleasure's all ours, kid.’ He grins.

Frankie smiles softly at you, brown eyes filled with something warm.

‘Want a drink?’ He asks.

You smack your lips, hand grabbing at your throat.

‘Please, Fish,’ you gasp, ‘I’m parched.’

The screen door has barely shut behind you before he has you backed against his kitchen counter again, stealing kisses like you’re about to get caught.

His lips are slow, sweet, hands so lazy, so indulgent in the way they hold you you’re not sure it’s really happening, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He crowds you a little closer, licking into your mouth as he fists the skirt of your dress, palming at your ass. You barely manage to catch your breath before he’s mouthing at your neck, nipping at the skin there as you huff against him.

‘Good time last night?’ he breathes against your shoulder. You nod, eyes shut tight.

‘Yes,’ you gasp, ‘Really good time.’

‘Good,’ he murmurs, ‘I’m glad.’

You moan softly as he grips your hips, pulling you up against his thigh. There’s a thrill to it, knowing the boys are just outside. It makes your blood run hotter. Dangerously hot - no-turning-back hot.

‘Should get back outside. Before they wonder where we’ve gone.’

‘Don’t care,’ Frankie rasps, tugging at your dress again, ‘This fucking dress drives me insane.’

You nip at his bottom lip as his mouth meets yours again.

‘You’re driving me fucking insane,’ you gasp, lips tipping upwards, ‘In your kitchen, humping your leg like a dog in heat -’

He groans against you, forehead knocking against yours as he breathes heavily.

His eyes are almost black, palms warm and rough as they cradle your cheeks.

‘Once they leave,’ he whispers, ‘We’re spending a week in my bedroom. Or yours. I don’t care which.’

A whimper slips up your throat, mouth pressed hotly against his again as you start to count how many hours until it might be acceptable to drag him away. One hand slips from your cheek to your waist, inching up until he can squeeze at your breast, running a thumb over your nipple. You shudder, whole body ignited.

‘Fuck.’ He breathes.

‘Frankie -’

‘Hey! Lover boy,’ Pope whistles from behind the screen door. You leap apart at the sound of his footsteps on the porch. ‘Hope you’re decent in there, I’m coming in -’

Santi appears, grinning widely as he pushes his way into the kitchen. He shields the side of his face facing you with a hand. ‘I’m not looking,’ he says, ‘But we’re gonna get grilling.’

‘We’re not naked, Pope.’ Frankie says, bemused. You giggle as Santi drops his hand.

‘Thank God,’ he sighs, before fixing you with a look, ‘I’ve seen enough of this man’s ass to last me a lifetime.’

He’d hoped it would be easy, knew that they’d love you. But he’s never seen these three men take to someone the way they have you.

He smiles as you stand with Will at the grill, watches the brotherly affection develop in real time. The soft smack of your palm against the older man’s shoulder, snorts of laughter, whispered jokes and more serious stories swapped. Frankie relaxes into it more and more, gazing at you over Benny’s shoulder.

When he brings more food over to cook, Will stays stood by his side as you take his place with Benny and Santiago. The three of you huddled around the crackling firepit, hooting with laughter. He catches his own name a few times, turns to find you watching him with shining eyes as Pope and the younger Miller brother no doubt regale you with embarrassing stories from his youth. Things he hasn’t thought to tell you, things he may well have forgotten. And you fill a chair so easily, so effortlessly, it’s like you’ve always been there.

Clinks of cheersing bottles, conspiratorial shoulder bumps, lowered heads and loud exclamations and giggles. He feels like he’s in a fucking coming of age movie.

‘She’s a keeper, brother,’ Will murmurs to him over the lip of his beer bottle. He turns to him, a little surprised, but Will looks so at ease, so content with his little smile, that he knows there’s no bullshit there. ‘Fuckin’ funny. And smart as hell.’

Frankie hums, busying himself with flipping a burger. His hands are a little shaky - even after everything that’s happened over the last week, there’s still something that’s keeping him unsteady. The rock of a world turned on its axis, the deep want of willing this to work - because he loves you. So fucking much.

‘Don’t go all shy on me now, Fish.’ Will says, turning with him so his back is to you.

‘’M not.’ Frankie says, softly. Will sucks a breath through his teeth, squinting up at the sun just over the roofline of your house.

‘Do you remember what I was like when I first met Charlotte?’

Frankie looks at him - the beard, the hair pulled back, the clear blue of his eyes. He nods.

‘And the way you wound me up? How I was always looking for her, always checking for her? And at the end of the night, you asked when I was buying the ring?’

Frankie chuckles at the memory, the comment made stood at the bar with his best friend, manifesting the future he’d have. The ring that now sits on Charlotte’s finger, the wedding planned for the end of the year.

‘I do.’

Will looks back at him, teeth exposed with his smile. Teasing, full of humour, but it’s genuine, not goading.

‘When are you buying the ring, Frankie?’

Blood rushes to his head so fast he feels dizzy, so fast he has to put the tongs down. He scoffs, the way it sounds out loud so outlandish, but something pierces deep through his chest at how clearly Will sees through him.

Because he’s thought about it.

He shakes his head, swallowing roughly. There’s nothing he can say. Anything like not even my girlfriend yet would sound like a denial. But admitting it, that secret thought, even to Will, feels insane.

He’s still grinning at him.

‘I know it when I see it, Fish,’ Will continues, ‘And I know what you’re thinking.’ He pauses, shrugs. ‘Bring her to the wedding. She might catch the bouquet.’

He can’t move. Can’t turn to look at you, he’s sure his cheeks are burning so brightly. Can’t even twist his head when Benny calls,

‘Are you done grilling over there? We’re starving.’

He can’t stop thinking about it. Can't stop his whirring brain as the five of you eat, passing sauces and salads. Can’t stop thinking about a future, a life with you as you sit across the table from him, meeting his eye, chatting, laughing. Can’t stop the thoughts from ploughing through him as your foot catches his under the table, can hardly swallow his burger against the words lumping in his throat. Can’t stop the pounding of his heart when he catches you gazing at him halfway through a story, chin cupped in your hand, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars - can’t stop wondering whether you’ve ever pictured the same.

He’s barely snapped out of it when the plates are stacked and carried through to the kitchen, bits of salad and smudges of sauce halfway cleared up before you pile outside again, Will and Santi jostling over the chair free from the smoke of the firepit. You walk with him and Benny, the younger man listening to you talk with such interest, such fondness already, that Frankie wonders whether he’s too young to have a heart attack.

He’s only pulled from the conversation by the crack of broken furniture, the three of you stopping short and quiet as Will wheezes, sprawled on the ground atop the remnants of the coveted chair. He holds a hand up in the air, craning his neck at Frankie.

‘His fault,’ he croaks, pointing at Santi, who holds his palms up in surrender.

‘Not my fault that he’s so heavy.’

You trap a giggle between your teeth and bottom lip as Frankie and Benny start to laugh, Will scrambling to his feet with the help of Frankie’s outstretched hand.

‘Santiago.’ Benny snickers, and your bright eyes find Frankie’s.

‘Well. Now you are in trouble.’

Frankie grins, fixing Santi with a faux stern look.

‘In so much trouble you’re gonna have to sit on the floor.’ He chuckles, and Pope pouts.

‘My knees will never recover, Fish, and you know that.’

He shrugs, settling into a chair at the same time as Benny and Will. You stay standing, warring silently with yourself before you gesture to the empty seat for Santi to take.

‘It’s yours,’ you smile, nervous as you turn to Frankie. ‘Is this seat taken?’ You ask, looking pointedly at his lap.

His eyes blow wide for a second, breath caught in his chest. Unsure, for a moment, of your meaning, ready to give the chair up for you. You raise an eyebrow, palm lowering gently onto his shoulder.

‘No.’ He rasps, blissfully unaware of Will’s smirk.

‘Good.’ You say, lowering yourself onto his thighs, an arm around his shoulders, his around your back, hand at your hip. He swings your legs over his without thinking, and you settle, limbs tense at first, before shuffling a little to get comfortable.

To their credit, the boys don’t make it a thing. They continue the conversation as normal as the two of you join in, wrapped up together, crowing with laughter as your bodies vibrate against each other.

You hold each other closer as the evening wears on. Head resting against his chest, nuzzled against the fabric of his t-shirt. Laundry detergent, light scent of cologne, the warmth of his skin. His hands are broad and calloused where they cradle you, so easily - never a limb falling slack, never goosebumps that go unsoothed. He rubs his thumb against your thigh in soft semi-circles, leans his cheek against the top of your head, breathing in your shampoo.

Lets himself be warmed by the pressure of your body against his, willfully ignores his cock when it twitches hopefully as you shift. Which is hard, as you begin to shift more and more the later it gets, the hotter you burn above him. And as hard as you try, you just can’t keep still. Can’t stop trying to find relief for the ache in your core, the wetness pooling in your underwear.

He finally grips your hips against a particularly wicked wriggle, head dipping to growl in your ear.

‘Stop, baby. Please.’ And it works for a moment - only a moment - as you’re frozen by the flashbacks of him unravelling beneath you eight days ago. Eight days too long.

As though he’s read the shift in atmosphere, Will stands and stretches.

‘I’m heading in,’ he says, rolling his head on his shoulders. ‘The spare room calls.’

You stand, reluctantly, and Frankie is quick to readjust himself as inconspicuously as possible. Will gives you a sweeping hug, kissing just before your ear as you say a muffled see you tomorrow into his shoulder. Frankie takes his outstretched hand, pulling him into a back-clapping embrace of sorts, and when he pulls away he’s surprised to see Benny and Pope also bidding you goodnight. He checks his watch.

It’s not even eleven.

His eyes twitch from you to the boys as he works out whether you’re heading back to yours, too.

Santi catches the look, slapping a hand onto his shoulder as he whispers a do not come back into this house, pendejo. He looks over your shoulder at Benny as Will makes you giggle again, and is met with the firm waggle of a finger.

Stay, he mouths.

Fuck you, Frankie mouths back, watching their backs retreat into his house.

The backyard falls quiet, only the snap of logs in the fire, the buzzing of insects, and the rush of blood in his ears to be heard.

You turn, facing him in the dark, half your face lit by the dying embers of the fire pit.

‘Are you - are you tired?’ He asks softly, afraid of disturbing the hushed moment.

‘No,’ you whisper, ‘Are you?’

He shakes his head, swallowing thickly.

‘No.’

You nod, gentle smile pulling at your lips.

‘Good.’

You step towards him, slowly, like something out of a dream. Glowing in the low light, sparkling with something divine.

You cup his cheeks with both hands, press your body in a firm line against his, hoping to convey exactly what you mean through the touch. Affection, of course, love, adoration - everything you’ve been planning on giving him over the last week, but now, more pressingly - want. Pure, unadulterated want.

You tip your head to slant your mouth against his, hot, heavy, teeth clashing at the initial meeting, breath mingling, tongues licking into each others’ mouths. You tug at the back of his neck, hand buried in the soft curls there, yanking his head back a little to open his mouth up to you. You let go. Lips suckling at his tongue, teeth nibbling at the pillow of his lower lip. Further. Pecking at the scruff of his jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. Nipping, raising red on his skin, before soothing it with a tortuously slow lick of your tongue.

Your breathing is so heavy, hands so feverish, you lose the sense of where you end and he begins. Feel fingers scrabbling for purchase, bruising grips, on you and him. One scorching palm runs the length of your dress down to the top of your thigh, grabbing at the flesh there. You shift your stance, moaning into his mouth, finding that hand with your own, moving it closer to that burning place between your legs. Frankie follows your lead.

You press his hand up, and his knuckles graze along the sodden fabric of your panties, lips falling away from his as you whine and he groans. You’re soaked, wetter still as he runs the length of his fingers up and down the material clinging to your pussy, feeling the bite of your teeth as you try to muffle yourself against his collarbone.

He shushes you, coos at you, pressing a particularly firm stroke against your cunt that makes your legs shake as he asks you -

‘You gonna let me feel it, baby?’

You gasp against his mouth, nodding feverishly. He chuckles, slowing the pace of his kiss so he can really focus on how soft, how warm and wet you are as he pulls your panties to the side with deft fingers, slicking them up before swirling them around your clit. A stuttered breath escapes you, cutting off into a loud, unabashed moan as he slowly, slowly fucks his fingers into you. He sinks right down to the bottom knuckle, kisses forgotten as he breathes raggedly against your cheek, feeling you clench and whimper around him. He curls them slightly, and your knees practically buckle, stomach contracting, hands grasping at his shirt.

‘Frankie,’ you plead, almost losing your train of thought as he plants a kiss just behind your ear. ‘Take me to bed.’

He pumps his fingers, once, runs his thumb softly over your clit before withdrawing them altogether, mouth slanted firmly against yours, stifling your whine. You stumble a little, pulling at the collar of his shirt for him to move with you before pausing briefly, watching as he brings his fingers to his lips. He slips them deep inside, groaning around them, eyelids fluttering as he takes in the taste of you. Your breathing is heavy as he slips them from his mouth, offering them to you. You take them willingly, bobbing your head to feel how thick and heavy his fingers are on your tongue, the taste of your slick diluted with his spit making your mouth water. He stares as you flick the muscle between and around his digits, brow furrowed, eyes dark, before he retracts them. You frown at him, and he licks into your mouth with such ferocity you’re quick to forget your disappointment.

‘Yours. Now.’ He murmurs, and then you’re grinning, running. Sprinting over his lawn, hopping the fence on unsteady legs, striding towards your porch. You slam up the steps, glancing behind you only once to watch him follow you. Giddy with want, warm all over, soaking wet, you can't help but look for him.

For the first time since you moved next door, Frankie willingly hops the fence.

He catches up to you before you can get the front door open, clutching your hip, turning the handle with the other. He backs you into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind him, shoes toed off blindly. There’s no reprieve from his lips, no other thought than his hands on your body, guiding you into your living room, hips bumping into furniture, deaf to the clatter of objects falling - not a single fuck given over what - one hand - whose, you’re not sure - flying out to flick a lamp on before he’s crushing you against the sofa.

Calves to the furniture, you fall, and he follows you - two hands braced either side of your head before returning to their homes on your cheek, your waist, your breasts. Palming at the flesh there, kneading, thumbing over your nipples. You’re gasping, rolling your hips in hopes you’ll catch against something, because he’s everywhere, only to come up empty every time. He lowers both hands, tongue running strongly against yours. One shifts your hips, the other pressing against your panties again.

‘Let me taste you,’ he groans, voice hoarse, ‘Please, baby. I have to - let me taste you.’

You nod fiercely, tugging on his curls again, mumbling a fuck, Frankie, yes, before he pulls away. His lips are spit-slick, swollen, cheeks flushed. Breathing haggard, eyes blown, curls frayed. He looks almost how he did a week ago.

He holds your gaze for a moment, searching again, letting the question float through the air. You nod, softly, and he begins his descent.

His lips are wet against your skin, leaving shining marks as he presses them to your clavicles, your breastbone, closing them around your covered nipples. He mouths at them, tongue dampening the fabric of your dress, warming, cooling, the fabric sticking to you in a way that makes your back arch. He works one with his fingers while his mouth is occupied, teasing them into peaks as you whimper and buck your hips beneath him. He watches you darkly, eyes heavy lidded, eyelashes almost fanned against his cheeks. And you ache. Ache so badly, so unforgivably. You can feel how wet you are - panties soaked, dampness all the way down into the cleft of your ass, smudging along the tops of your thighs. He waits until you whine again, louder, higher pitched, nails scraping in his curls, against his scalp - please Frankie, please - before he moves lower. More kisses pressed to your covered stomach, lower, lower, large hands pushing up the hem of your skirt, tracing every bit of skin they can find. He shifts on his knees to get closer as you lift your hips so he can shove your skirt all the way up, lips parting, eyebrows furrowing in a desperate look of need as he fixes his eyes to your clothed core, as you buck again at the look in his eyes, breathing heavily. His palms come together at the very tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing along the hem of your panties either side of your pussy. You huff again, hands leaving their clutch of the sofa to bury back into his curls, tugging him forwards.

He groans, deep in his throat, easily led. Presses his nose to your clothed cunt, inhales deeply, grinds the tip just against your throbbing clit. You whimper, tugging once more, and he nuzzles your bud again, mumbling something into your heat.

‘Frankie -’ you gasp, ‘Frankie - if you don’t fuckin’ - touch me in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna cry.’

‘I am touchin’ you,’ he growls against your hip, head tilted to look up at you. His hot breath on your skin has your flesh breaking out in goosebumps. You shake your head, frustration burning behind your eyes.

‘I want - your tongue -’ you pant, ‘Want to feel your mouth, Frankie.’

He groans, thumbs digging under the waistband of your panties to rip them down your legs, eyes never leaving your core as he reveals you - glistening, messy, wet, drooling for him. He splits his fingers into a V, spreading your lips as you keen and mewl above him.

‘You want me here?’ He rasps.

‘Yes,’ you breathe, ‘I fucking do.’

He finds it in himself to show you mercy.

The first stroke of his tongue is strong, wide. As though he’s trying to take as much of you in as possible in the first go - licking deep and long to taste your slick, tracing the dip of your hole, ending with a final swirl around your clit. Your chest shudders, eyes squeeze shut, hands tense in his hair.

‘Okay, baby?’ He asks, so soft.

You lick your lips.

‘Yeah.’

He pushes your at knees to spread your thighs wider apart.

‘Look at me.’ He says, and you crack your eyes open to watch as he manhandles your legs onto his shoulders, tilting his head as he considers, pushing them back towards your chest in order to find the best angle to eat you from. Fuck.

He’s not gentle, and he isn’t taking his time.

The week you’ve waited, the months building up to this, do not mean you have the patience to make this last any longer than he’s already teased you for. He eats you like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything like the heaven between your legs. Long, firm strokes of his tongue, flicking at your swollen clit, watching as your head tilts forward, heavy, unable to tear your eyes from him. Chest heaving, something about the way you’re still wrapped in that fucking dress making him leak steadily in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper. He’s barely spared a thought for it so far, caught up in the way you look, the way you feel, smell, taste. He moves his grip from one of your knees to palm himself roughly, and you moan, watching him.

Your lips part, and he knows, knows that you’re going to beg him to fuck you before the words even leave your mouth. And he will.

He just needs this first.

‘You’re gonna come in my mouth,’ he rumbles, stroking your clit with his thumb, levelling you with a dark, stern stare, ‘And then we can do anything you want. Just need to taste you like this first.’

He watches the pulse of your cunt, the gush of slick that escapes you at his words. Coos at you, so pretty, baby, before leaning back in.

Closing his lips around your pearl, sucking, flicking, tracing shapes - tracing the letters of his name against you - watching as you buck and cry and moan. You’re so fucking beautiful, leaking around him, wetting his chin, his lips, his cheeks. He can only taste you, only smell you. And it’s fucking divine.

Diving in as you bury your hands in his hair again, pulling his mouth closer, reeling in the soft plush of his lips, warm wet of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth against your skin. He lets you use him, lets you grind against his face, winding your hips against him. He holds his mouth open, tongue lapping where he can, mumbling against your skin. Blissed out, pussy drunk.

Yes, yes, fuck. Fuck, baby - use me. Use me, just like that. Take what you need, Bug. Taste so good, feel so fucking good.

His eyes dart from your cunt to your face - this beautiful mess you’re making, the fucked out, glassy look you watch him with. Mouth dropped open, brow scrunched in ecstasy, broken little pants and moans, cries of his name. He stretches an arm, a hand above his head, kneading at your breast, pinching your nipple, the other settling above your mound, thumb pulling back the hood of your clit. You shut your eyes quickly, your shout of fuck coming loud, a yelp.

He can taste how close you are, willing you to come with his eyes when you meet his gaze. His come, baby, is muffled, but it’s all you need.

You break, back arching, breasts heaving, pussy fluttering and clamping around his tongue, heat blasting through your belly, a rush of bright white feeling pouring from you. Your hips freeze, jerk, twitch against him, and he closes his eyes briefly, worried that if he watches you ride the high the whole way through he’ll come in his fucking pants again.

Your hands loosen in his hair, letting him lick and suck dazedly until he’s content. Nose pressed against you, inhaling, tasting as you whimper, thighs tightening a little around his head at the oversensitivity, and he backs away, pressing kisses to your thighs as your ragged breathing begins to ease into a more even rhythm.

He nips at your skin as you stare at him, something flooding your chest. You feel like you’re still riding that wave, feel like no one’s ever really eaten you like that, nobody’s ever really let you use them like that.

You bring a hand to his cheek, thumb tracing the glisten of you on his lips. He tilts his head into your palm, and you smile, mouth dry.

‘Where’d you learn to do that?’ You ask. It’s a dumb fucking thing to say, but you can think of nothing else that could quite explain the light-headed awe you’re feeling. He laughs, a deep rumble, real, into your thigh.

‘It’s a gift.’ He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your belly, shifting on his knees, adjusting himself. Your eyes soften, dropping to his hand.

He sees the question in your eyes again.

He leans forward, squatting, hands moving to the crease between your thighs and ass, before he stands, bringing you with him. You mouth at his neck as he stumbles to your stairs, taking them steadily, shouldering open your bedroom door through the darkness.

He drops you where he knows the mattress, your bed will be, separating himself from you only briefly. He yanks the curtains shut as your fingers flick on a dim light - you’ll be damned if you're not watching this.

He stops before you at the edge of the bed, between your legs. You reach out, looking up at him - sharp curve of his nose, chocolate of his curls illuminated by the light, the heat of his eyes, soft clench of his jaw, rough swallow of his throat. He reaches to stroke your hair, cupping the back of your head. You tug at the hem of his t-shirt, and he holds your hands, loosening them so he can pull it up over his head. And then he’s all golden tan, freckles. Stupidly broad shoulders, strong arms, muscle moving beneath the skin as he discards the garment on the floor. Curls of hair over his chest, down his softening stomach, down below the waistband of his jeans. The bulge straining against the denim there. You draw your hands down the lines of him, pausing only to trace the silvery mark of the scar on his abdomen. He sucks a sharp breath in at the tenderness, the intimacy, takes your fingers in his. Watches as you blink up at him, as you move to press your cheek against the heft of his cock, a kiss against his zipper. Hands making quick work of freeing him, tugging down the denim and his boxers. He steps out of them, bending only to pull his socks off, before he stills in front of you. His hard cock bobs against his stomach - you’re briefly distracted by his thighs, the delicious, smooth patches of skin where his hips meet his torso - but he is impossible to ignore. Thick, throbbing. Precum beading down the shaft, head flushed a heady, deep red, veins pulsing beneath the skin. Curved upwards, twitching beneath your gaze. You swallow thickly.

‘Holy shit.’

You don’t even realise you’d said it out loud until he laughs, a little bashful, a little proud. You look back up to him as you reach out, fingers wrapping around his base. Skin like silk, like gossamer, hot and strong. He hisses through his teeth, knees weak and hips bucking all at once. You pump once, twice, letting your breath fan over him.

‘So pretty,’ you murmur, ‘Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.’

He flushes at your words, his retort dying in his throat when you wrap your lips around him, gently taking his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue in circles, dipping into his slit, teasing the skin on the underside. He watches, breath caught in his throat, head pounding as you dip forward, hands flat against his thighs, eyes fluttering blissfully as you take him deeper. Watches as he disappears inside your mouth, as he feels nothing but warm and wet, nothing but your tight swallow, your fluid grip at his base, the vibration of your hum, the glint in your eyes as you look up -

He retracts his hips reluctantly, sliding his cock from your throat. You try to follow, whining as you shift forward, still connected through a delicate line of spit and precum, stretching thin as he pulls you back with a firm hand in your hair. He breaks it with his fingers, letting his thumb catch the dribble of it against your chin. He offers the digit, and you obediently take it in your mouth to suck the mixture off. Your eyes are still wide, pleading. He smiles softly.

‘Not gonna last like that, baby,’ he mutters. ‘Wanna feel you this time.’

You pout, words slurred in your pleasure filled haze, eyes heavy lidded as you hold his gaze.

‘Wanna watch you come every way. Wanna make you come every way. Wanna - wanna taste it, wanna feel it, want you to cover me -’

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he grits, cock throbbing painfully at your words, head spinning. He never thought he’d hear you talk like that, cock drunk on the edge of your bed, mouth all sad without his dick in it. ‘Get this off.’ he hisses, tugging again at the hem of your dress, pulling it up as you hold up your arms. It comes easy, exposing your bare pussy, soft skin of your stomach, plush flesh of your breasts.

There's so much blood south of his brain Frankie thinks he might pass out.

He bends to kiss you, groping at your tits again, fingers swiping fleetingly between your legs to find you still soaked.

‘Perfect,’ he growls, ‘So fucking perfect.’

You whimper, backing up across your sheets. He follows, both knees dipping onto the mattress, tongue searching for yours, pecks and nips pressed to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

Your hands find purchase wherever they can, squeezing the tops of his arms, nails grazing the skin, grasping the meat of his hips, tracing the contours of his belly, squeezing and stroking his cock. A deep groan rumbles in his chest again, and he's breaking the kisses to divert and scoot back against your pillows. You crawl to him, eye contact only broken as his eyes flick over your shoulder, and he freezes, shivers. You smile wickedly, guessing at what he can see. You pause between his legs again, lowering your head to kiss at his base, cup his balls, arching your back a little more so he can really see the angle you’re exposed at in the mirror behind you.

He doesn’t know where to look. Where your mouth and hands are, teasing at his cock again, or where he can see your glistening pussy, tilted up, shining, ready.

He’s losing his fucking mind.

He reaches over, curling his body around yours to land a firm smack against your ass. You whimper at the contact, hot pant of air against his skin, eyes glassy again as he groans, watching the flesh ripple, watching the claim he has staked begin to form.

You move to kneel, coming face to face, your eyes wide, wanton, desperate.

‘Fuck me, Frankie,’ you whisper, pleading. ‘Please, fuck me -’

He shakes his head, kissing your temple.

‘Gotta get you ready first, bebita,’ he breathes, pulling you closer, moving your legs. ‘Come here for me, turn around. Come closer. Like this.’ He arranges you so you’re sat, cradled between his legs, your back to his front. He spreads your legs wide, hooks them with his ankles so you can’t close them. Runs his hands down your body, your eyes tracing his movements - every squeeze, every pinch, every circle he draws.

Your breath hitches as his hands travel lower, parting your folds again, feathering over your clit. You turn your head to speak directly into his ear.

‘Don’t tease, Morales.’ You purr. He chuckles, turning to peck at your lips.

‘I won’t, princesa.’

You cry out as he sinks two fingers inside your heat, making good on his promise. Your chin dips, but his spare hand comes up to cradle it gently, angling your head so you can watch him work you in the mirror. The two of you rendered speechless for a moment - just gasps, moans, the slick sounds of your cunt in the room. His dark eyes on yours over your shoulder, in the glass. The firm press, scissor, pulse, of his fingers inside you.

The silence is only broken by a ragged moan from you as he presses against that delicious, spongy spot tucked away inside you, and he chuckles in response.

‘Look at you, baby,’ he breathes in your ear, ‘So pretty. Been thinking about you like this all week.’

You moan as he curls his fingers at a particularly delicious angle, pressing the meat of his palm against your clit. Your hand closes around his wrist, keeping him there, pulling him away - a mix of both. The feel of him is too wonderful to be rid of, too much to take.

‘Longest fuckin’ week of my life.’ He growls, biting at your earlobe, flicking his wrist faster again, drawing a desperate cry from your lips. A pressure building, your pussy obscene in the quiet, so fucking wet, and you can hear Frankie thinking it, marvelling at how your body responds, how you leak and clench and writhe in his grip.

There’s that pressure building again, your breath heaving in your lungs, cunt getting slicker, tighter. Frankie coos in your ear, his other arm still banded around your middle. You hiccup, moan, arch your back against him.

‘Fuck,’ you murmur, ‘Fuck, close.’

He hums, tracing his nose along the fine skin of your neck.

‘Yeah?’ He says, voice cracking a little. ‘S’that good? Tell me. Tell me it’s good, baby.’

You whine again, thrashing your head against his shoulder, driving your hips down onto his fingers, pleading for more.

‘So good,’ you moan, ‘So fucking good, Frankie. You have no idea.’

You can feel him rutting against you - slowly - all velvet skin, wiry hair, sticky wetness. His mouth pressed to your shoulder, licking, nipping, kissing alternately, his fingers pressed deep inside you, other arm loosening around your middle, hand playing messily with your clit. His eyes in the mirror, trapping you there with him. Unashamed in their exploration of your body, greedy, watching your soaked cunt pull him in, the sopping sounds she makes as she tries to hold him there. You’re surprised at how hot it makes you feel, how wanted, how turned on. The streak of slick and sweat against your skin, Frankie's wet fingers that spread it there.

You whine again, skin burning, glistening with sweat. Tip your head back, onto his shoulder, to nip his skin impatiently between your teeth.

‘Frankie,’ you murmur, breath sweet against his ear, ‘Wanna come on your cock.’

‘Fuck,’ he rasps, ‘Is that what you want? You want my cock?’

You moan again, louder, drunk on the feeling between your legs, his continued movement.

‘Yes.’ You hiss, as he sucks a mark onto your neck.

‘Say it. Need to hear you say it.’

‘Want your cock. Need your cock, Francisco.’

You swear you see his eyes roll into the back of his head in the glass of the mirror, and then he’s moving fast, with precision.

He eases his fingers from your pussy, gentle, not a drop of hesitation. He pushes your hips until they rise, tilting your whole body forwards until you’re on your knees, hands pressed into the mattress. You feel like jelly, so loose and warm-limbed you’re sure you could be moulded into any shape he wished.

‘Good girl,’ he mumbles, pressing hot kisses against your shoulders, down your spine. ‘Good fucking girl.’

His hands are on your hips, ready to move you, but in a second, you’re turning to face him. He’s watching you, reverent, like he can’t believe you’re here, that he’s here. You place a knee on either side of his, one hand pulling at the curls at the nape of his neck, titling his head back so you can slant your mouth against his, licking between his lips as you lower yourself gently, rocking your soaked folds over his sensitive cock.

The movement knocks the air from his lungs, mouth stuttering against yours, unable to kiss you back. Feeling you on his fingers was one thing, but having you sliding against him like this is a whole nother. You giggle at him, and a whimper clears the back of his throat.

‘You okay, baby?’ You smirk, voice hoarse. He supposes it’s only fair, now you’ve got the upper hand. He lets you keep it, hands roving desperately, kneading and pulling at the flesh of your ass, mouth dipping to your nipple, letting you glide over him. Now processing how hard he is, how painfully his cock throbs.

He’s ready to be greedy, ready to find out how he fits inside you.

He pulls you up, closer, by the hips. Grips his cock firmly between your legs, swipes it between your folds, making sure to bump against your clit just to hear you whimper.

You brace your hands against his chest as you rest your leaking hole against him, the tip just breaching the tight ring of muscle. You whine, scratching fine lines into his skin.

He swallows - so handsome. Dark curls, dark eyes. Strong body, a body that feels like home, like someone who has always kept you safe, has always made you feel seen.

‘Look at me,’ he says, for the second time. You drag your eyes to him, stalling your movements. He waits until he knows your brain has caught up with your body. ‘Slowly.’

You nod, lowering yourself against the blunt head of his cock, clenching your teeth at the sweet stretch. He anchors you with one hand cupped to your cheek, the other firm at your ass, listening to your hiccuped moans, your shuddering breaths, releasing his through his teeth. You’re so warm, so wet, so tight.

And he fills you to the brim. Every inch you take a marvel, pressing against every nerve ending, every tender spot, like he was made for you. You settle when you reach his base, clit catching on the wiry hairs there, rocking slightly to feel him even better, letting your slick soak him, feeling yourself pull tight, loosen, ebb, flow.

You knock your forehead with his, finding his eyes. Bright, fiery, needy. You close the space between you, kissing him as you pant together. Feeling so full, so open, forgetting every worry, every niggling doubt. You rest your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, shaking as you lift your hips, feeling the thick glide of him, clenching, releasing, dropping back down slowly, again, listening to the squelch of him moving inside you, desperate, needy little noises leaving your mouth. It’s intoxicating - the more you move, the louder you get, the louder he gets. Deep rumbles of praise, heavy grunts, hands soothing, pinching every inch of skin they can find. You grind a little more on the downwards movement this time, keening at the scrape against that bundle of nerves again, choking on your words.

‘God.’

‘That’s it, Bu- baby.’ He groans, and a huff of amusement leaves you at the slip.

‘What, am I not Bug anymore?’

It’s breathless, your tease, not your usual gnashing comeback. He groans, teeth grazing the bud of your nipple.

‘I am not using the nickname my daughter gave you when I’m inside you.’

You giggle at the thought, body clenching a little. Frankie moans, open mouthed, eyes squeezing shut, hands grasping at you.

‘Don’t laugh,’ he gasps, ‘Holy fuck, please don’t laugh. I’ll come.’

You hum, giving in, dragging your body up and down again, smooth, slow, letting the feeling, the warmth, the pressure, the ache begin to build again. You lean back a little, one hand on his thigh, one loose on his shoulder, and the change in angle has you crying out, cursing, Frankie watching your face before his eyes fall down your body - beautiful, glistening in the orange light. The curve of your waist, the quickening bounce of your tits, and then your cunt. Watches as he disappears inside you, watches as you stretch around him, watches the glisten of your wetness down his length, where it’s tacky at the bottom, staining the two of you where you’re connected. You reach back with your other hand, moving faster, leaning back further so he can really watch you fuck yourself onto him.

Your movements grow hungrier, a little more uncoordinated; stomach tensing, mouth hanging open, cut off, broken cries of his name, feeling yourself wind tighter, spill more onto his lap. He runs a large palm down your body, thumb finding your clit, catching it, rubbing firm circles. He feels you clench for real this time, whole body shuttering at the feeling, your hand clutching his.

‘Fuck, Frankie -’ you gasp, ‘Please, I’ll -’

You’re cut off as he changes his rhythm, his pressure, finding the pace that makes you moan with every breath, mouth stretching in a smile.

‘You’ll what, princesa?’

You whine, huffing, thighs burning, release so close you can almost taste it.

‘Motherfucker -’ you bite, no real venom.

‘Words, baby.’ He coos.

‘I’ll come,’ you pant, ‘Frankie - I - I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, please, gonna come, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie -’

You sob, loudly, euphoric as your orgasm shatters through you, body cramping, juddering. A gush of liquid between you, your pussy squeezing him tight, so tight -

‘Good girl, bebita, such a good fucking girl -’

And he’s flipping you, deftly, a hand protecting your skull, so you’re on your back, mind and body reeling as you continue to shudder, still calling out for him, nails carving pink half moons in his shoulders as you wrap your legs around his waist on instinct, the angle deepening, his body pressed flush to yours.

‘Fuck,’ he snarls, ‘Feel like heaven, baby, wanna watch you come every day, every hour, all the time -’ he’s babbling, he knows he is. But he’s caught up, entranced by how you look beneath him, his thrusts sloppy already, watching your eyes roll back, your chest heave, tits bounce. Lower again, where he’s fucking into you, soaked with your release. He winds a hand around the back of your neck, gently tilting your head to make you see what he’s seeing, to watch him fuck you.

You clench painfully around him, gasping - shit, Frankie, oh my God, so good, so good - your body rallying for another, senses overwhelmed, aflame with pleasure. He clutches your thigh, hitches your legs higher up his waist. Licks at your pulse point, sucks different mark there, leaning back to take you in again.

‘Look so pretty, bebita,’ he moans, ‘All fucked out on my cock like this.’

And it’s like a switch is flicked. Frankie sees it pass through your eyes, a wicked glimmer. The way the corners of your lips twitch, even as your eyelashes flutter at the sensation of him drawing his thick cock back out of you, even as your body whirs with a second orgasm.

‘Yeah, baby?’ you coo, ‘You like how I look taking your cock?’

He can’t say anything in reply, mouth only hanging open as you start to talk again.

‘Like how I look when I’m full of you? Wanna be full of you all the time, Frankie. Wanna feel you even when you’re not inside me like this. Wanna - fuck - wanna feel you dripping out of me -’

He groans roughly, almost animalistic.

‘Don’t say that.’ He grits.

You moan at his tone, fingers twisting through his hair, mind getting hazy as you flutter around him.

‘But I want it, Francisco,’ you rasp, ‘Want you to come inside me, want you to fuck me full of you -’

He bares his teeth a little, nipping at your bottom lip. Balls drawing up, heat at the base of his spine, faster, harder -

‘You want that?’

‘Please, Frankie.’

He moans again, sees stars when he closes his eyes, as your whimpers pitch higher.

‘Gonna come,’ you whisper, ‘Come, Frankie, please, come inside me -’

You’re not sure who’s first, you’re not sure who’s louder. A shout of your name, his name, ripping through the air, you clamping down around him, the jerk of him inside you as he paints your walls with his cum, fucking it into you as long as he can, the squelch, the sensitivity drawing out your highs.

He eases when it gets too much, rolling you onto your side, keeping you full until he softens enough to slip out, kissing all over your face. You share breath, teeth knocking against each other, tongues gliding along lips, whining as you feel him begin to drip out of you.

Fingers slipping against his damp skin, pulling him close, sharing whispered secrets, tugging him closer still when he starts to harden again against your thigh.

Hours slip by, the darkness behind the curtains blooming into something like daybreak. He tastes you again, fills you again, you make sure to take him in your mouth.

And when the first birds begin to sing, you are fast asleep in each others’ arms.

His fingers are tracing your shoulder, your face pressed to his chest, murmuring conversation in the light of the morning. Sun stretching through your clumsily closed curtains, rustle of the trees outside the window, cracked open for fresh air when the scent of sex was laying heavy in the room. Legs tangled together, further entwined in your sheets.

In a moment of quiet, Frankie speaks.

‘Your picture’s fallen over.’

Twisting your head, you look to what he’s pointing out and snort, burying your face in his warm skin.

‘What?’ He asks, amusement curling the word.

You pull a face.

‘It didn’t fall over. I turned it over.’ You admit.

A beat.

‘Why?’

You rest your chin on his pectoral, taking in the crease of confusion between his brows. You lean to kiss it away, because you can, now. Because you never have to think about it without doing it again.

You squeeze your lip between your teeth.

‘It’s uh - it’s a picture of me and Dad.’

He frowns again, eyes searching your face. You exhale.

‘I didn’t… I didn't want him to - see?’

He chuckles softly, pink dusting his cheeks as he swipes a hand across his jaw, thinking, remembering.

‘I didn’t see you do that -’

‘I did it before I came over.’

You cringe a little at the confession. Silly now that it’s happened, but still.

‘Before…?’

You nod. Mhm. A smile teases at his lips, eyes lighting with mischief.

‘But we didn’t - I mean - we didn’t plan it -’

‘I know,’ you groan, hiding your face again. ‘I just had a feeling.’

Frankie snorts, squeezing your hip.

‘Good feeling, baby.’

‘Asshole.’ You giggle, nipping his skin between your teeth.

He laughs again, shifting you in his arms so he can hold you properly.

‘Good job I didn’t try anything last week, then,’ he smiles, ‘Can’t have him thinking I’m not a gentleman -’

‘Frankie, you literally came in your pants -’

He gasps in mock offence, squeezing you tighter.

‘And so did you!’

You laugh, properly, against him, chests leaping against each other. You press your lips to his neck as he presses his to your hair.

‘Hell of a first kiss, though.’ He chuckles.

He feels you tense as your heart leaps in your ribs.

One last secret.

He loosens his grip, watching you, a flicker of worry cooling his joy. You chew your lip, brow furrowing, eyes flicking from somewhere in the middle distance to meet his.

‘What, baby?’ He whispers. You inhale deeply.

‘How much do you remember from Pride?’

He grimaces, relieved at your answering smile.

‘After eleven? Not a lot.’

You hum, pulling yourself from his arms. He lets you go reluctantly, watching as you stand. Your gorgeous body - gorgeous curves, the places he’s gotten to know so well over the last few hours, the marks that have begun to bloom after his lips and teeth.

You rummage around in a dresser draw, turning to face him with a single thin, glossy strip of paper in your hands. You step back towards him, eyes catching on the way he's sprawled out before you. Golden skin, broad shoulders, one hand behind his head, bicep flexed. One leg thrown out from beneath the covers, his modesty - or what’s left of it - barely hidden by your sheets. A flash of heat moves through you. You bite your lip.

‘Do you remember the photobooth?’

‘Mhm. A little.’

You nestle back down next to him, the slip of paper still clutched to your chest. Your eyes dart to his again.

‘Our first kiss wasn’t last week.’

‘What?’

His eyes are wide, mind whirring as you hold out the paper for him to take.

A series of five shots of the two of you. Laughing, close, and then with mouths pressed together, hungry. The last one messy, still locked in a searing kiss, but he can see the drunk grins peeking through.

He exhales heavily.

‘We kissed at Pride?’ He asks, bewildered.

You nod, twisting your hands in your lap.

‘We did.’

He looks back at you, still confused. A little worried, a little disappointed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he breathes, ‘I don’t remember -’

You laugh, knocking his shoulder with yours.

‘Neither did I, baby.’ You say, kissing his curls.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

You suck a breath in through your teeth, shrug.

‘You didn’t remember, and I - I panicked. Didn’t know if it was just a thing for you or, you know, a thing.’

‘Like last week?’

You nod, sombre.

‘Like last week.’

He shakes his head.

‘You’re my favourite idiot, you know that?’

You scoff, brightening.

‘Dick. I had no idea -’

‘I love you.’

The simplicity of it takes your breath away. Winds you, catches you right in the chest, battering against your heart.

His eyes are shining, and the truth of it is there. Has always been there. Somehow, you just never saw it before.

I love you.

The weeks of wanting, of worrying. Of denying, of lying awake thinking about it -

‘I love you, too.’

His eyes crease at the corners, mouth lifting, tongue peeking from between his teeth.

‘Yeah?’ He breathes.

‘Yeah.’ You whisper. He swallows.

‘Think a part of me always has.’

There’s a prickle in his throat, heat behind his eyes. He wonders when it happened for you.

Wonders whether you had him from that first glimpse from Lucia’s room, from searching for bugs in your yard. Your tenderness with his daughter, the laughter in your eyes. From those moments you curled into his side on his sofa, when he’d come home, so relieved to find you in his house.

Knows, for sure, you’d had him long before his realisation on his porch, sand still between your toes.

He clears his throat, tangling your fingers.

‘That mean I get to call you mine, now?’

You smile, eyes watery. Hey, neighbour. I’m Frankie - from across the way. His curls in the sunshine, water balloons over fences. His broad back to you as he cooked dinner, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders. His gentle hands as you cried, phone calls through kitchen windows.

‘Please.’ You whisper.

The lightness in his beam is infectious, a tear spilling over as he kisses you and kisses you. Mine. Mine. Palms skating over skin, tangled in hair, an endless moment in morning sunshine. Your heart swells impossibly, stitched together, glued together by this man in your bed. You don’t know when he did it. But he holds it now, whole, fixing something you know your Dad never wanted to break.

‘Thank you.’ You rasp against his lips, chin wobbling. He doesn't ask what for. He knows, just by the look in your eyes. He shakes his head minutely, voice thick, quiet.

‘My honour.’

He holds you close, bodies melded together. You never want to let go, the tightness in your chest easing again as he makes you laugh, as you say it again, outloud, breathless. Mine. The whispers only broken by rumbles of noise outside, voices -

Deep voices in his backyard you can hear even from here. You groan into each others’ mouths, the sound dissolving into a laugh.

‘They’ll be wanting breakfast.’ You giggle quietly.

‘They can cook,’ he mumbles against your lips, ‘I’ve got mine right here.’

He squeezes your ass, dragging your hips against his thigh. Still wet, leaking from the two of you, something heating in his chest at the thought.

You hum, not helping the case by kissing down his chest.

‘Should really say goodbye at least.’

He grunts as you nibble at his belly, neither acquiescing or disagreeing.

‘And then,’ you continue, ‘I remember something about you keeping me in bed for a week?’

You pause, looking up at him. He curls a hand around your cheek, so tender.

‘Me too.’ He whispers.

You grin as you clamber back up his body, planting a firm kiss against his lips.

‘Couple of hours,’ you promise yourself, ‘And then I have you all to myself.’

He chuckles against your lips, an eyebrow lifting, repeating your words from a week ago - a lifetime ago - back to you.

‘We’ve got the whole summer, Bug.’

You giggle, wiggling your eyebrows.

‘Plenty of time for a ride in the sky, then, too.’ You grin, nudging him.

He presses a long, sweet kiss to your mouth.

‘I’d take you to the moon if I could.’

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: on call

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norizzsainz · 10 months ago

Text

🌶️ NFY : MCDONALD'S FOR P

[ carlos sainz x singer!fem!reader ] [ wc ] 0.9k words

[ summary ] carlos' and y/n's breakup comes as a surprise to many of their friends. no one ever thought the couple would ever break up, but alas, y/n was always ready to do whatever was best for the love of her life — even if it meant breaking up with him.

[ loki's lines ] this was so much better in my head, contemplating if it should've just stayed there

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━━━━━━━ DECEMBER 03, 2023

max would've burst into laughter on any other day when he saw the way you had arrived at his doorstep.

you wore a hoodie; the strings tightly tied until only your eyes could be seen.

he offered a small smile as your eyes met; brows raised when you lifted a bag to his face.

“mcdonald's for p,” you mumbled. “got you and kelly some food, too.”

max tried not to let his smile fall as he heard your voice, the hoarse tone letting him know you had a really bad cry session — or even multiple of them.

“come on in,” he stated, nodding you inside as he stepped aside after taking the bags from you. “thanks for the food. p will love you forever.”

you only let out a tired chuckle at his words, not adding anything more. max frowned at your lack of response, realizing something was really wrong with you.

you loved p more than anything, and the fact you didn’t say much about max’s words were enough of an indicator as to how bad the situation was.

“aw, babes.” kelly walked towards you with a frown. “what are you trying to do? suffocate yourself?”

“honestly, right now, i'd love that,” you commented with a sigh, wincing as kelly untied the hoodie. “thanks, kels.”

the frown on kelly's face didn't fade; her brows furrowed as she sat you down on the sofa. she observed you well, her gaze softening as she met your bloodshot eyes.

“this isn't like you, y/n. what's wrong?”

max's heart shattered as he watched the way your face scrunched, trying to hold back the inevitable tears that made their way down your face.

you covered your face with your hands, crying harder when kelly pulled you into her embrace, trying to offer any sort of comfort.

“y/n ...” max stood next to you, patting your hair gently as his girlfriend rubbed your back. “tell us what's wrong so we can help.”

“h-he said we had t-to break up.” max frowned, exchanging glances with kelly as you hiccupped over your words.

“carlos? was it his idea to break up?” kelly inquired, confused.

you pulled away from the hug, meeting her gaze. “not carlos.” you shook your head, wiping away your tears with your sleeve.

max tilted his head. “who was it, then?” he asked, waiting for your response.

“his dad. he said we had to break up.”

the couple’s eyes widened, never having guessed your ex-boyfriend’s father would’ve intervened in the relationship and forced you to break up with him.

“what? why the fuck would he do that?”

max sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa you sat on, fisting his hands by his side as he looked at you.

the man’s frown never faded, staring at you. “why did he tell you to break up with carlos?” he asked, teeth gritted to control his anger.

“he said i was messing up carlos’ focus,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “told me to break up with him if i genuinely care about his career.”

“so, you broke up with him?!” max raised his voice, flabbergasted by your words. “what the fuck, y/n? why would you do something like that?”

“because i love him, max.” the couple’s hearts shattered as they heard the crack in your voice. “i broke up because i love him.”

“you can’t be serious, y/n.”

“i hate this more than anything, but i’ll have to deal with it. i know how hard carlos has worked to come this far, and i can’t just sit still, knowing i’m the reason he’s fucking up his dream.”

max frowned, shaking his head. “just because he fucks up his races doesn’t mean you are the reason for it, y/n,” he stated, trying to make you understand.

“i am, max. i know that very well.”

“come on, you know–”

“five times, max,” you countered, looking at him. “five times, carlos purposefully did not qualify for the races because he wanted to be there for me,” you confessed.

you watched the way kelly’s face dropped, while max’s expressions remained stoic.

he had noticed too. he knew.

you saw him take a deep breath, biting his lip as he contemplated what to say.

“so, do you think his performance will become better now that you’ve broken up?” max inquired, raising his brows. “because if he doesn't, then this would all be in vain, no?”

“this is what his dad asked for, and i–”

max shrugged. “you are just fulfilling his wishes, obviously. this ‘fucking up his focus’ was just a sad excuse,” he said.

“his dad never liked you, babes,” kelly spoke, patting your back gently. “don't you think this entire thing was just some excuse to get you guys to break up?”

you buried your face in your hands, trying to control your breathing as you sat back on the sofa. everything was overwhelming you right now, and it was sending your brain into overdrive.

these were the moments when carlos would be there for you; listening to your thoughts and sorting them out for you.

but, he wasn't going to be there for you anymore. you had to deal with this on your own.

“whether it's an excuse or not,” you stated, looking at your friends through your teary eyes. “we've broken up now.”

“and that's–”

“and that's that.” you were stern with your words. “i'm tired of all this. i just want some peace and quiet, okay? just wanna forget about this all and go back to living life as i normally do.”

kelly nodded supportively. “if that's what you want, that's what we'll do,” she said, pulling you into her embrace.

“we got your back, y/n,” max added, wrapping his arms around you two. “forever and always.”

you smiled into the hug, utterly failing to keep the tears from falling down.

“thank you for being there for me, guys. i love you both so fucking much.”

#[📝] works #f1 x reader #f1 #carlos imagines #carlos scenarios #carlos sainz imagines #carlos x reader #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz drabbles #f1 drabbles #f1 imagines #f1 scenarios #f1 carlos #carlos sainz #carlos

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

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Hey! I was wondering if you could write a little smutty/angsty something for Neil Lewis. Maybe bestfriend!reader, who recently got with some other man, and Neil is incredibly jealous and maybe... possessive. 👀 Some angst heated argument finished with a smut would be lovely. 🤭

Thank you!

Of course, of course!

Thank you for your request!

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive || Neil Lewis x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, best friends to lovers, swearing, slight (?) drug use (marijuana), jealousy, unprotected P in V, Neil is quite obsessed with reader's boobs (because c'mon, NEIL IS A BOOB MAN!!!) like sort of switch!neil but not quite, adult content!

18+ Minors DNI

It was a slow Friday night at Gumshoe Video. You had closed by now, though. You sat between Lucien and Jonathan, a bit stoned, and watched some horrible Horror-Parody film called 'Bad Taste'. You had zoned out, drowning out Jonathan and Lucien's incessant bickering about the film and whether it was good or bad.

"-It's Peter Jackson, for Christ's sake. It's a masterpiece of its time or whatever," Lucien argued. Jonathan just scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's supposed to be ridiculous!" Lucien protested.

"Are we watching the same movie?" Jonathan grunted with a hint of amusement. "How the hell did someone see this and think... 'yeah, that's the guy we're getting for Lord of the fucking Rings'!"

Lucien quipped back something particularly witty and sarcastic, but it all turned into one big blur of words to you. You were incredibly bored and stoned that none of what was happening on the TV screen made sense. You looked like a zombie, lips parted and an expression of awe on your face.

"Not this stupid movie," You heard the sound of Neil's voice from behind you. Quickly sitting up and turning to look at him, like an expectant dog when its owner comes home. "I've got the snacks if you guys even care." Lucien and Jonathan grumble their words of appreciation while you just sat and smiled at your best friend.

You all had smoked together, but you hadn't really prepared for the munchies that would come along with it. So you flipped a coin, and poor little Neil was the one who had to go to the nearest convenience store and buy as much junk food as he could carry. Two seafoam green plastic grocery bags were hanging off of Neil's sturdy forearms that said 'Recycle Me!' on them while he stood, smiling back at you.

"What'd you get Neily-poo?" You hummed, standing up and approaching him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Neil grumbled before handing you one of the bags. "I just got all the classic snacks... Cheetos, Twizzlers, Lucien's favorite white chocolate... and of course, I got your favorite..."

You squealed out of delight, lunging on Neil and wrapping your arms around him. "Did you really?" You said, pulling away with your arms still around his neck. Neil hummed while pulling the familiar mouth-watering box of Swedish Fish out of the grocery bag.

You properly pulled away now and snatched it out of his hand greedily. "Hey...! Wait... where's my thanks?" He tilted his head, tapping his pointer finger on the apple of his cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully before placing a grateful peck on his cheek.

You two sat on the spare couch together. You leaned against Neil, as you always do, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. It had always been that way with you two, both very physically affectionate with each other. Though not when Neil was in a relationship, you knew how threatened his girlfriends felt by you, though you never understood why... Neil was always insistent on how you were just a friend, even going as far as to say you were like a sister to him.

When the movie ended and Neil had a bit more to smoke, you all sat around munching on your snacks, thinking of what to do next.

"Do you guys wanna come over to my place, and we can do this again tomorrow night?" Neil asked, scratching at his chin.

"Sure, I'd love that, dude," Jonathan nodded before popping a handful of peanut M&M's into his mouth. "Sounds great." He said with his mouth full.

"Gross!" You scolded, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. "Don't eat with your mouth full..."

"What did you just say?" Lucien laughed.

"I mean... don't talk with your mouth full!" You corrected, and everyone sat around giggling at that. "You knew what I meant!" Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at your mistake.

"...and yeah, I'll come over tomorrow night." Lucien said to Neil. Neil gave him a thumbs up before turning his head over to you.

"How about you, Y/N?" Neil hummed, sighing as he leaned his head against the couch, cheek smushing a bit as he smiled softly down at you. He's so pretty, I just wanna kiss him, You thought."You wanna come over?" Yikes, you thought. You bit your lip and sucked in a breath. "Well... I... well... actually, I've got plans tomorrow, guys... I'm sorry." You shrugged apologetically.

"What?" Jonathan murmured, mouth still full, chewing obnoxiously loud.

"Since when do you have plans?" Lucien remarked. You gave him a dry smile.

"I'm going on a date... believe it or not," You snorted, looking down at your lap, embarrassed to admit. You never really talked about your love life with the guys, especially not Neil. Things always got awkward. Neil never discussed his with you either; you'd only briefly meet his girlfriends, and then that was it. You didn't understand why it had to be so awkward between you when discussing dating.

The room went silent at that. You looked towards Neil, his arm retracted away from you and tucked back into his side as you noticed the frown on his face. You could see the look on Jonathan and Lucien's faces, eyes flickering between the two of you, trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

"Oh..." Neil mumbled, sounding disappointed, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth and chewing dryly. "Good for you... congratulations..."

"We're not getting married," You laughed uncomfortably. "Plus, I doubt it's gonna be anything that special... we're going to some downtown dive bar to have drinks and then probably go back to his place or something..." Neil had a visible expression of distaste, fiddling with his thumbs. You didn't get why he was so upset. "What's his name?" He said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Russell."

"Russell." He repeated coldly. Jonathan and Lucien were utterly silent. The tension was thick, and trying to waft through it felt suffocating.

"Why are you upset?" You blurted out. "Can't you at least be happy for me for once that I'm finally fucking going out with somebody?"

""Course I'm happy for you, Y/N, I just don't want you... to get hurt..." Neil muttered. "That's all."

"Right." You scoffed, scooting to the other side of the couch.

The tension was unbearable, and Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Things always got weird when you brought up a guy you like or a guy you were seeing. You never got why. Why would Neil be upset that you were seeing somebody? How many girlfriends did you have to sit and watch him be with? How many painful breakups have you comforted him through? How many times had you encouraged him to go over and talk to a girl he thought was pretty? A countless amount of times, that's what. So the fact that the mood visibly shifted as soon as you said you were going on a date... it pissed you off. Neil was never encouraging when it came to putting yourself out there romantically. It was almost like he was jealous, but you knew he had no reason to be.

"How'd you meet?" Lucien cleared his throat, trying to lighten the air.

"Well when I was here alone the other day... he was in the shop-"

"He was in the shop?" Neil interrupted with a whine, eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, he was, so what?" You turned and looked at Neil, glaring at him.

"Can't believe you're going out with a customer," Neil muttered. "Thought you were better than that." "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It... no... nothing, just-" "God forbid I meet someone!" You were standing up now. Lucien and Jonathan had gotten up and wandered over to the other side of the shop, pretending they were browsing the shelves. "How many fucking bimbos have you asked out that had come in here, Neil?" "Y/N-" "I'm leaving." You barked, grabbing your things and rushing out, not before giving Lucien and Jonathan a gentle wave before slamming the door and walking home in the pouring rain.

The walk home was long and treacherous. Usually, Neil would drive you home. But you couldn't stand to be around him right now, not after his hypocritical words. When you got home, you collapsed in bed, still in your wet clothes, and cried your eyes out. Thunder cracked outside, and your windows rattled with the harsh wind. Your phone began to ring, the familiar ringtone you assigned to Neil's contact buzzing through your pocket. You just groaned.

"Go away, Neil." You grunted into your pillow, bickering to no one. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Curling up into a ball, the tears continued to fall. You hated the way you felt towards Neil; you hated that you wanted him to be more than just a friend. Your phone kept ringing, and it only made you cry harder.

You remembered freshman year of high school when you first met Neil; you instantly clicked and were in every class together. Everyone always thought you were dating, and you'd both share a round of 'Ew's and 'That's never gonna happen' and then silently look at each other thinking 'What if' (unbeknownst to each other). You always daydreamed about losing your virginity to Neil, the scrawny, awkward pimply boy who was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, though you ended up losing it to some guy called Lloyd over a dare. It wasn't very romantic, nor was it pleasurable. You just laid there and thought about Neil the whole time.

The sleep you got that night was terrible, but you tried to focus on the positives. You were going on a date! Yay! Not with Neil, though. You spent the day mostly picking out an outfit, mentally scolding yourself for not deciding on it sooner since most of your good clothes were dirty and you were feeling incredibly antsy. Your phone had been blowing up all day. Texts from Neil, Jonathan, and Lucien lit up your screen every other second. You didn't reply, you couldn't, you felt entirely too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Lucien lounged on the couch at Neil's house, and Jonathan watched Neil pace back and forth in his kitchen while making handmade whipped cream. They were going to make a cake.

"I just don't know what to do, man," Neil huffed, stirring the bowl even more aggressively. Jonathan watched, unsure of how to comfort his friend. "What the fuck do I do? What if this guy is like... her soulmate or something cliche like that?"

"Okay," Jonathan laughed, putting his hand in the air. "Russell is not her soulmate." "How do you know? Have you met him?" Neil hissed back.

"No, but... how do we even know this 'Russell' guy even exists? What if she's just trying to make you jealous?"

"That's a good point!" Lucien quipped in from the other room.

"Thanks, Lucien," Jonathan rolls his eyes before looking back at Neil, who has set the bowl aside, melting to the floor with tears. "Look... dude, I think you should go over there and tell her how you feel... the worst she can say is no..."

"The worst she can say is no," Neil mocked, tears streaming down his face. "Yeah fuckin' right! She's gonna..." Neil sobbed, hiding his hands in his face. "I'll go over there, and she'll... never want to speak to me again... she wouldn't feel the same way... it's impossible!"

Jonathan looked exasperated. It was painfully apparent to everyone but you and Neil that you two were soft for each other. You usually spend every day together. The idea of losing you to some other guy was heartbreaking for Neil. Neil cried like a baby, and Jonathan watched, awkwardly leaning against the counter, unsure what to say.

"Just fucking do it, you fucking idiot!" Jonathan blurted out. "I know she likes you... do you really think Y/N would've stuck around this long with us losers if she didn't feel something for you?"

"I don't know, Jonathan..." Neil whimpers, looking up at Jonathan with the most pitiful eyes anyone has ever seen. He looked straight out of a painting.

"And even if she doesn't feel the same for you..." Jonathan continues, crouching down to be at his height on the floor. "You guys have known each other way too damn long to just throw away a good friendship over you liking her. Y/N's a smart girl. She'll learn to accept it if she doesn't feel the same way."

Neil just buried his face further into his knees, continuing to cry. "Gee, you'd think he just got his period or something." Lucien said unhelpfully.

"Shut up, Lucien!" Neil and Jonathan yelled in unison.

"Listen, I think you should just tell her... she ain't responding to any of my texts... and I don't know how it's gonna go with this Russell guy tonight, so I reckon you should head on over there..." Jonathan rambled. Neil still stayed in the same place, with his head in his hands. "Like right now!" Jonathan yelped, and Neil jumped at the sudden shift in volume and tone.

Neil approached your house as you sat in some dive bar, waiting for your date. His key twisted your locked door. Unbeknownst to him, the house was completely empty. And as he walked in, Russell was yet to arrive, over twenty minutes late to your date. At this point, you'd accepted that you had been stood up and patted yourself down, ensuring you had everything you brought.

"Y/N!" Russell's voice greets you, clearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry for being late... traffic was awful." Yeah, right, you thought. But you gave him a small smile and sat back in your booth. "That's alright," You pressed down your skirt that rested uncomfortably high on your thighs, trying to calm your nerves. The leather of the seats stuck to your thighs as Russell began making small talk. How boring. You found yourself zoning out as you downed the drink Russell had bought you just to try and cope with the terribly grim situation you were dealing with. Russell was some sort of accountant. Just the idea of finance lulled your brain into a state of boredom and borderline sleepiness. Russell's voice was monotone, and the way he licked his cracked lips every time he spoke made you feel queasy.

Meanwhile, Neil sat on your couch, spread out and feeling hopeless. No other person could ever compare to you, never ever, ever, ever. The thought of you meeting this guy he didn't know anything about except for his god-awful name and possibly hitting it off... maybe starting a life with him... the jealousy was sickening. Genuinely sickening.

It was festering within him, after all these years of watching men come into the store and flirt with you, the jealousy... the possessiveness... that another man talking to his Y/N... brought on was just too much for poor little Neil to handle. The jealousy was now fuelling the reason he still stayed. As soon as you walked through that door, with Russell or not, he'd get on his hands and knees... and beg you to love him... beg you to love him the way he loves you.

An hour went by... and then another, by now, it was nearing 10:30 PM, and Neil wasn't even sure if you were coming home. He then remembered your words of 'going back to his place afterwards' and felt like the biggest idiot in the whole world. He felt like he had lost you... like he was mourning you. His heart broke silently, and the heavyweight in his chest grew to be too intense, too blue to even cry. So he stood up and sighed, looking around your apartment before saying his goodbyes. I won't be over much now that she has a boyfriend, Neil thought. But as he turned around, about to walk out the door, there you stood with your key still in the lock looking at him like you'd look at an angel.

"Neil?" You asked softly as if it could possibly be anyone else.

"Y/N," He gasped, rushing to you, hands reaching out to you. "Please listen to what-" "Who's this?" Russell asks with a scoff, leaning on the doorway. Neil backed away like he had just entered a cock-fight he knew he couldn't win.

"Russell..." You shifted to look at him. "I think it's better if you just go... we can... we can see each other another time." "Yeah, alright," Russell shrugged, playing it cool but Neil saw the flicker of annoyance flash through the man's eyes. Russell turned back around and left, leaving the two of you alone.

"What are you doing here, Neil?" You chided, closing the door and deadbolting it behind you before walking over to the couch with Neil.

"I... I need to talk to you..." Neil whispered. You sat right beside each other, staring into each other's eyes. A feeling grew in your chest like you knew what he was about to say. "Y/N..."

"Neil..."

"I..." He faltered, his eyes looking down at his lap as he reached out, holding both your hands in his. Your heart did a spin at this, lips parted as you breathed heavily. What is happening? "I.... fuck... I don't know how to do this," Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, clearly about to cry. "I've watched so many goddamn movies you'd think I... you'd think I'd have the right thing to say."

"Neil," You whispered, your voice coming out like a warning. "Just say it."

Neil looked up at you, speechless. The expression on his face was truly indescribable. Almost like a dramatic build-up, the room was silent, giving each other this look. This look you had never openly given to each other before.

"I don't want to kill my time with anybody else," Neil began, taking deep breaths. The sounds of cars passing by and trees swaying in the wind could be heard, along with the pounding of your heart. "You're the only one who makes me feel alive."

"Neil," You warned, looking away from him. "Why now?" You blurted out, quickly smacking your hand over your loose mouth.

"Wha...?" Neil asked, torn completely out of the moment by just those two words.

"Why are you telling me this now?" You questioned. Your hands ran down your face. "Why, Neil, Why?"

"What do you mean?" Neil shook his head, eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?!"

You were standing up now, you couldn't be close to him, you felt too dizzy. "After all these years... why are you only telling me this now?"

"I-I... I..." Neil stammered, utterly speechless this time. He wasn't expecting this reaction, he couldn't quite place what you were feeling. "I was afraid, Y/N."

"Of what?" You raised your voice and he flinched and suddenly the guilt hit you like a freight train. Tears fell down your face, ruining your makeup.

"Of losing you! Losing the only person in my life who actually matters!" Neil stood up as well, approaching you. Like a game of cat and mouse, you stepped away while he kept trying to round the coffee table to get to you. "I need you, Y/N. I need you to know how badly," He pleaded with you, but you couldn't find a way to let him further into your heart. He'd hit bone if he went any further into it.

"Neil, I don't know anymore! You're so confusing!" You screeched as he bumped into you, knocking you down onto the couch and he knelt in front of you, pleading eyes staring up at you. "I don't know what you want from me!" You cried.

"I want everything," He whispered, hands placed on both of your thighs. "I want to be yours... I want you to be mine. How do I make this any clearer?"

"I don't... I don't have you," You felt like you were being torn apart. "You don't want me. You just... you're just confused! You don't want me! You want..." You closed your eyes, thinking about the women Neil had dated. You felt like he wouldn't be satisfied with you... you felt like you weren't pretty enough or you were too boring or too familiar. "I don't have you... Neil... and I never will."

"You've always had me. Every second of every day... you've had me. I'm yours." Neil whispered, hands squeezing your thighs. "Please. I need to know."

"Need to know what?" "That you'll take me," His fingers travelled further up your goosebump-covered skin. "That you'll let me in, Y/N."

"How?" Your hands shook as you looked him in the eye again. This time... it felt like you were looking at a completely different man. It was no longer just your best friend you were looking at... but the man pleading with you to love him as if you hadn't been silently loving him from afar... all these years.

"Please let me show you."

Neil used his hands to balanced himself as he slowly and intimately leaned in, lips brushing yours every-so slightly. "Neil..." You whispered.

"Shh...." He hushed.

And your lips joined together. It felt like your body had let him in, like he was rewriting your DNA and letting every part of him consume you. He sat beside you now, cradling you in his arms as you kissed slowly. This was all so new to you, unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced. Every other kiss before this just felt like you were trying to negotiate something... but this... this kiss felt like your body had found its missing limb like it had found what it had been lacking all these years.

A string of spit connects the two of you as Neil softly pulls away, panting for breath. "Am I in yet?" He chuckled.

You tilted your head, squinting and stroking your chin, pretending you were struggling to decide. "Maybe... I don't know yet... think you'll have to try harder..." Your voice was still a bit shaky from crying. "Alright," He snorts before diving back in and kissing you rougher this time but still in that romantic, slow way. One hand placed on your hip and the other guiding the back of your head as you made out. Tongues pawing at each other like they were getting acquainted.

"Please touch me," Neil whimpered into your lips, and oh fuck, that was the most divine noise you had ever heard. "Please." "Only 'cause you asked so nicely..." You hummed, pushing him down and straddling him. You watched as he threw his head back, biting his lip and holding back the noises he so desperately wanted to make at the feeling of you sitting on him. Your fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, watching him writhe underneath you at only the slightest touch. You popped each button out individually and slowly until Neil was groaning with annoyance.

"Don't be such a tease, Y/N," Neil grunted from behind gritted teeth once you had his shirt off. "If you felt how hard my dick was right now-"

"Oh, I do!" You giggled cheekily, slowly rolling your pelvis in a slow circle right over the tent in his trousers that poked into your thigh.

"You fucker-" He groaned, reaching his arms up and grabbing your head roughly and pulling you into a soul-sucking kiss, tongue grappling at yours desperately.

You moaned through dancing lips as you had the most delicious friction going. Neil was being just as loud as you, whimpers vibrating through your sternum and into your soul. Neil bucks his hips up pathetically before he breaks the kiss abruptly.

"You've gotta stop or I'm... I'm gonna..." He buried his muzzle in your neck and moaned. "I'm gonna fuckin cum in my pants." "Oh yeah?" You grinned, grinding your hips even faster.

"That means stop!" He grabs ahold of your wrists and flips you around like you were in a wrestling competition. You gasped out as he had you down against your couch, panting heavily above you with that frustrated-and-horny look. "I knew you'd be a little brat." He spat menacingly before grinning like a puppy, leaning down and kissing you heavily.

You ran your hands up your shirt, trying to pull your shirt off which made Neil pull away slowly when he realized you were taking your top off. "Are you sure?" He said breathily, above you, mouth wide open and his eyes glued on every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed more and more. You just nodded your head and smiled. "Oh fuck, you're showing me your boobs." Neil's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. "Neil," You giggled as you got the top off and out came your tits, and there was Neil sitting there in disbelief at the sight of your boobs. "Neil!" You laughed, hitting him with a cushion; he smacked it away before looking back down at them with this look that almost resembled a look of horror. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Fucking hell, this is the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil chirped. "Fuck... please, Y/N... please let me squeeze them."

"Go ahead, Neil, touch me," You hummed, raising your arms above your head and leaning back with a Cheshire cat grin as his hands slowly and cautiously cusp your boobs. He let out a soft moan and let his eyes flutter shut as he slid his hands over your breasts, you could hear his breath hitch as his thumb slid over your hard nipples. "You're acting like you haven't touched a boob before," You snickered.

"Oh, believe me, I have..." Neil nodded, eyes open now and staring at your tits like he was high. "Just none as good as these..." He leaned in, hot breath fanning your left breast, lips parted but he doesn't go any further than that.

"Put it in your mouth, pretty boy," You demanded, and like the sub you always thought he was, he obeyed with a smile. "Fuck... that's it." The tops of his cheeks were flushed a gentle pink as he sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple. "Mmm...." He hummed, eyes closed. His full body weight was resting on you while he sucked on your tits, switching between them. You laid there for quite a while and wondered how long he could do this. You braided your fingers through his hair before tugging it back roughly, and he unwillingly popped off your tit with a loud and whoreish whine.

"Hey!" He complained with eyebrows knitted together as his eyes looked between your eyes and spit-covered tits. He's so spoiled.

"I always knew you'd be a little brat." You said, repeating what he said to you earlier.

Neil drools on you helplessly, groaning as you pull on his hair more until you two are sitting up facing each other. You grin once more and lean in, giving him a sweet little kiss. His hands cupping your tits desperately.

"Carry me to the bedroom." You hummed dramatically, raising your arms in the air, and Neil shook his head and chuckled as he leaned down and wrapped you up in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend," Neil murmured into your warm shoulder as he padded you guys down to the bedroom he had been in countless times.

"Not just best friends, though," You remarked as he laid you down on the bed with your legs over his shoulders. He reached towards your bedside table.

"Condoms?" He hummed, searching through your drawers, but found nothing.

"Birth control... you should know this you idiot!" You giggled at Neil realizing what you just said.

"Can I...?"

"Yes!"

"Like... inside?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes!" You nodded your head, laughing wildly.

"Fuck you're gonna be the best girlfriend ever!" Neil grunted happily before leaning in and kissing you like you were his last meal.

Meanwhile, he slid your skirt down and unzipped his trousers. You caught a glimpse of his thick cock straining against his briefs and found yourself growing wetter.

"Let me make you mine, Y/N..." He whispered. "Let me finally make you mine."

"I've been yours," You caressed his face. You were both out of your underwear now. The tip of his prick nudging your clit as you looked up at him with so much love. "Please... Neil... please... I need you so bad."

Neil nodded silently, closing his eyes as he lined up his aching cock with your dripping cunt. The initial push in made your mind go blank and your spine arch even further into his touch, Neil moaned as he pushed himself into you fully.

"I can't believe this is happening..." Neil whispered. "This is so much better than I ever imagined it to be."

"You thought about me?" You grinned idiotically, high on the way he was stretching you out.

"Fuck," He groaned, hair falling over his pretty face. "Every fuckin' night."

"Me too."

His hands were placed firmly on your hips, and as he receded back until it was just the head of his cock in you, his fingers slid up to grope at your tits that his eyes had been practically glued on all night. Neil fucked you nice and slow, relishing in the way your pussy felt around him. Your hands were gripping the sheets, legs still thrown over his shoulders and mouth spewing incoherent words of pleasure.

"Neil... baby... oh my god," Your eyes so desperately wanted to shut but you wanted to enjoy how pretty he looked above you. "I love you."

Those words hung heavy in the air for a moment, Neil's hips never faltering as he leaned down and kissed you. "I love you, Y/N." Neil whispered against your hot mouth.

That was all you needed to hear. His cock slid in and out of you, both groaning and moaning as your bodies finally became one. Neil's mouth hung agape against yours, breathing in each other's air. Neil's face was flushed a bright red, pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from how you ran your fingers through it. Your noses brushed together as his pelvis rutted against your clit, dick still so deep inside you.

"I love you so much," Neil panted, thrusting into you desperately. "I always have..."

"Love you..." You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut and your arms slithering around his neck as the pleasure consumed you from the inside out. "So much... Neil..."

Neil pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling your face as he ground into you. "Fuck, please let me cum inside you."

"I'm so close, Neil..." You whispered. "Just hold on a little longer."

Neil grunted. A pyramid of pleasure building within you, ready to crash down and crumble inside of you. Your orgasm grew like a million tiny vines curling around each individual nerve until you saw colors you had never seen before.

"Squeezing me so tight," Neil whined. "I need to cum... please..."

"Cum," You commanded and he did.

Coming undone together felt like it was truly sealing your fate. You had never felt so close to him; you knew you could and would spend the rest of your life with him. He mewled into the crook of your neck, cum spilling into you as you convulsed, orgasm swallowing you whole and ridding you of all your senses. All you felt was him and the impending pleasure devouring you. Neil's whimpers only further pushed you over the edge.

"Y/N," He moaned like a whore. "Fuck... Y/N..." He whined right into your ear as his cock continued to fill you with his warm cum.

Your brain couldn't conceive a proper thought. You couldn't will yourself to speak as he collapsed on top of you. You smile as you lay there together, skin on skin, hearts pounding in sync. Neil pulled out of you with a quiet hiss, picking you up and curling up with you under the sheets.

You looked at each other silently, both still calming down. Your thumb drew infinity signs onto his cheekbone, slowly blinking at the boy you had always wanted- no, needed.

"That was the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil whispered, sleepy eyes looking at you full of adoration. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." Neil pecked you softly on the lips. "I can't believe it took me this long to tell you... I... I'm sorry." "Shh..." You hushed. "It's okay... we're together now... that's all that matters."

You lay in silence once more, hearts still pounding in your chests. You took in every detail of him, which you had memorized countless times before, but this time it was different. It felt much more intimate. Every crease, every freckle... every tiny minuscule detail of him was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"Does this mean we're boyfriend-girlfriend now?" Neil chuckled, rolling over onto his back, pulling you into his side.

"Shut up, Neil," You giggled. "You're such a dork."

"You love it." He quipped.

"I do," You agreed. "I love you."

"I love you," Neil smiled sweetly, and as he leaned in to kiss you again, you were quickly interrupted by the sound of Neil's phone ringing. "Fuck me," He grunted, reaching down to grab at his jeans where his phone was. "Hello?" He said with a sour face. "Hi, Jonathan, everything is okay... yes, she's here with me..." Neil looked down at you with a smirk. "Yes, Lucien can borrow my goggles... I don't care... can we talk about this later?" Neil hung up and tossed his phone aside before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

"What was that about?"

"Well... erm... Jonathan just asked if everything went well... between us..." Neil blushed.

"He knows you're here?"

"He's the reason I came over... he gave me the courage to... y'know... tell you how I feel."

You rolled your eyes and laughed before kissing him deeply. You felt like everything was okay. Now that you had Neil in your arms, you could handle anything that life threw at you. Neil was already planning your wedding in his head as you shared the love between you in a kiss. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else

I NEED NEIL LEWIS.... LIKE RIGHT NOW!!! Ugh, I love him so much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #neil lewis #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #cillian x fem!reader

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goingmerryfics · 9 months ago

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hi hi hello its me again :D another request if that's alright! could you do a chubby s/o with Kid and Killer? thank you for all your beautiful writing I enjoy it a lot!

Chubby S/O w/ Kid & Killer

Content: Gender neutral reader, very light nsfw elements

Notes* Welcome back :P glad to have you! I was trying to be really careful with the wording on this because for some it can be a sensitive subject. Heed the contents anyway.

Kid

Pinches your cheeks ALL THE TIME

Which ones? You decide

But for real, this guy grabs your ass all the time

He doesn't care that you're bigger, but he speaks so bluntly that he will probably say something insensitive. He doesn't mean it at all though- it would be some offhand comment that was worded wrong and later confuses him as to why you're upset

He won't apologize- it's Kid, him apologizing is unheard of -but he will do something special to try and make it up to you, like make you a small gift

He would let you use his clothes. He's a tall guy who's built bigger too, so if they fit you well enough then he'd like to see you in them

If you wanted to lose weight, he would be the best workout partner. He'll yell at you the whole time, but in a motivational way!

“Don't pussy out! Keep going! One more push-up!”

‘One more’ was 15 minutes ago

He pushes you to your limits in a way that somehow helps you two develop a bond with each other

Gives you shit if you skip leg day

If that's not your priority, he would probably suggest it once, call you weak for passing, then never bring it up again

Won't admit that he loves cuddling with you. You're extra soft, so he likes to lie his head on your chest or stomach

Killer

He loves you exactly the way you are.

Never insensitive towards you, and sticks up for you against any comments that people might make in ignorance, whether on his crew or not

He loves to hug you, hold your hands, and touch you in any sort of way so he can feel your warmth

He'll pick you up if you let him

If you wanted to lose weight he would make sure to start with your meals- making sure they're delicious, fresh as possible, and much healthier than the usual garbage that the crew eats for meals. He'd even eat the same thing with you so you don't feel left out

He'd also be a great workout partner, but he's on a completely different level than Kid. He'll encourage you less than scream at you, giving you praise and compliments the whole time

But if you weren't interested then that's ok too. He likes you no matter what

Personal headcanon is that he prefers chubby partners

He's always trying to be hyper aware of the kinds of words he uses not because he feels the need to tip-toe around you, but because he'd feel awful if he hurt your feelings by accident. He'd throw himself off the ship if he made you frown even a little bit

He'd be so quick to come to your side if you were feeling insecure, happy to give you all sorts of kind words to make you feel better

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #eustass kid #harleyasks #eustass x reader #eustass captain kidd #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #eustass kid x reader #kid x reader #kid one piece #one piece kid #killer op #op killer #massacre soldier killer #one piece killer #killer one piece #killer x reader

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writer-kermit · 1 year ago

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sweet like candy.

❥ PAIRING: NANAMI KENTO × GN!READER

❥ GENRE: SMUT

❥ COMMISSIONED OR SELF-MADE: SELF-MADE

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

ঞ~SUMMARY: It's the night of Halloween. And your lover Nanami Kento is certainly in for a treat.

ᰔ KERMIT'S NOTE: I LIVE! I HAVE RISEN BACK ONCE MORE! I like to apologize for my lack of posting. I've been really busy with work and I lacked motivation for the past few months. As a celebration of TickleTober, I've decided to create this fic. I will try my best to write more. And thank you to the people who stuck around! If you want commissions, DM me or visit my Ko-Fi. If you want, I'm also drawing commissions too! Thanks for the support!

P. S: I had no specific prompt I just did all of them (almost)

ʚ WARNING: NSFW, Sensual biting, Teasing, Erotic Tickling, Overstimulation, MINORS!! PLEASE GO AWAY.

It was that time of year again—the year when children would wear their most flamboyant costumes and wander around the luminous and chilly neighborhood. The children would knock on each home, hoping to receive something good to eat. Upon their next home, they would meet a particular house that wasn’t fond of trick-or-treaters. That house was none other than the Kento’s residency.

The house looked empty and eerie. You could’ve mistaken it for an actual haunted house. Those who were cocky enough to knock on the door will meet with a surprise.

A go-away sign? Welp, better luck next time kids; Nanami Kento doesn’t celebrate Halloween.

Ah yes, Hallow’s Eve. Nanami’s least favorite holiday. Not because he’s an envious adult, but because he hates the obnoxious noises he’ll have to endure until late at night.

You, however–enjoyed the thriller nights. You’d gaze at the children running along the neighborhood in search of some candy. You missed the times you’d trick-or-treat with your friends and family. As you slowly closed your bedroom window, you turned to your lover Nanami, who was too busy watching the latest horror movie.

“Oh Kento,” you sighed, “don’t you miss trick-or-treating as a kid?” Nanami flicked his eyes at you before quickly peering back at the television. “I don’t like Halloween that much.” He stated. “And why is that?” You asked, now sitting beside him. “There is no reason. I merely enjoy the alluring night when Halloween comes to an end.”

"I knew you’d say something like that.” You chuckled. “I guess you’re right,” Nanami smiled. “But there is one thing I like about this holiday.” A cocky smirk curved on your lips. “I bet it’s the candy, right?” You gestured. Nanami looked at you casually. He then pulled you into bed, making you lie down.

“You’re correct. How did you know, dear?” He asked. “Hehehe… You’re always a sucker when it comes to sweet things.” You replied. Nanami chuckled at your comment. “I will admit that,” He hummed, “But there is this one rare candy that I’m fond of nowadays.” As Nanami says that, he gets on to of you, making you anxiously giggle. “I wonder what this new candy is called,” You replied. “It’s called the [....] special. It’s currently my favorite.” “Oh yeah?” “Yes. And I’m dying to know the flavor.”

Wasting no time, Nanami pressed his lips against yours. He kept your tongue preoccupied as his hands crept under your shirt, his fingers gently caressing your tummy. He then pulled back from the kiss leisurely, awing at the feverish look plastered on your face.

“Mmm… Just as I thought,” Nanami husked. “You are sweet like candy.” He then kissed your neck, making you gasp in surprise. You moan softly between his kisses, almost tickled by his lips against your skin. A shy giggle escaped your lips as he gently tugged your skin.

“W-wait…” You whispered. “Ken…that tickles…” Nanami’s ears rang to know you were ticklish. A small smirk curved on his lips. “Is that so?” He teased. “Would you like me to stop then?” “N-no! I don’t hate it or anything. It’s just that this feeling is unusual.” You said. Nanami gave you a reassuring kiss. “Shall we sort out this unusual feeling together?” He asked you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t hesitate. However, you couldn’t help but nod for the thrill of it.

You watched Nanami as he pinned your arms above your head. “Keep your arms up. You can do that for me, right?” He asked you. “That depends on what you’re gonna do.” You remarked.

Nanami didn’t reply to your response. Instead, he let his calloused fingers do the talking. He slowly rubbed the palms of your hands, radiating a ticklish feeling.

His fingers slowly descend, now getting dangerously close to your underarms. You tried squirming away without pulling down your arms. But Nanami was quick to straddle you. His fingers scribbled across your poor armpits without warning, forcing you to pull your arms down.

“Ehahaha! W-wait! Wahaihaihait!” You squealed. “Wait for what?” Nanami cooed. “Don’t tell me you’re backing down so soon.” “N-not true!” You recoiled. “I just wasn’t ready! That’s all.” “You don’t have to be ready, sweetheart.” He replied. “Now, keep those arms up. Don’t even think about pulling them down.”

“Nn…” You whined, slowly putting your arms back up–only for Nanami’s fingers to attack you again. Scribbling and scratching against your poor ribs. You arched your back almost instantly. Your head turned from side to side as the tickling was unbearable.

“AHhnn! Kentohoho wait!” You pleaded, clenching your fist together. “I’m sorry baby. But I already lost my patience with you.” Nanami hummed, nuzzling against your neck. His hands slowly spider across your sides and back. “Nooahahaa! P-please, slohohow down!”

Nanami found peace through your whines and pleading. He dipped his head down to your stomach, planting tiny kisses and nibbling across your sensitive skin.

“I love this cute tummy…” Nanami muttered, his hot breath grazing your skin. “It’s soft and warm like baked bread. Wouldn’t you agree [....]?” Your words became inaudible. A mixture of laughter and moans escaped from your lips.

Nanami chuckled at your state, enjoying the lovely noises you made for him. He continued teasing your tummy. His hands clawed on your hips to keep you in place. Suddenly, his tongue slipped inside your navel, tickling you in a frenzy of hysterical laughter.

“HEEHAH!” You shrieked, right before covering your mouth with your hands. “And this adorable belly button,” Nanami teased, “It’s sensitive hm?” You only giggled and shook your head. “You liar….” He cooed, gently blowing at your navel. As he went further down, he stared at your twitching sex.

“[....],” Nanami sang to you, “don’t tell me you’re getting aroused just from me tickling you.” “Hehehe! N-no!” You panicked, pressing your legs together. “I-it’s not like that at all…” “It’s not? Then why so shy love?”

Nanami slowly spread your legs apart, revealing your aching spot. You let out a squeaky moan in surprise when Nanami’s fingers stroked you lustfully. You watched him hazily as he peeled your remaining undergarments.

“It seems like the [....] added a new flavor.” He joked. Nanami then grasped your inner thighs as he leveled his head at your sex. His breath only inches away from you. He then looked up at you again, taking detail of your shallow breaths and heated face. “Thank you for the treat….” He rasped.

Nanami then wrapped his lips against your sex. His tongue was light and gentle. Yet the sensations rushed through your body. You moaned happily as he growled and moaned against your sex. “Ahahaha… K-Kento… Kento…” You moaned, bucking your hips repeatedly. Nanami let out reassuring hums as he massaged your hips, stimulating you further.

“Your flavor…” Nanami grunted, “It’s so enticing. I want more of it… I want more of you…” He kissed your lips with hunger, and you melted into the kiss almost instantly. You then felt something poke your thigh. You then had an idea.

“Oh Kento,” You sang, “did you know that there’s a new candy in stores?” “Hm? What’s it called?” Nanami asked. “The Nanami - Delux. I assumed you heard of it.” His lips turned into a curt smile. “Suppose I have,” he replied, pulling out his leaking cock. “Are you willing to take responsibility?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Perhaps. I’ve been dying to know your flavor.”

#writing #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fic #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen tickling #jjk #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk tickling #Nanami Kento #nanami kento fic #nanami kento smut #nanami x you #nanami x reader

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guppyfish77 · 1 year ago

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Another year Another summary of Art! An Entire Year of Submas lets gooooooooooo!!!! This year I feel like I really pushed myself when it comes to illustrations and I feel like I've learned a lot! But at the same time I feel a little tired, next year I think I wanna relax and experiment a bit more, I gotta learn to loosen up! Might get more art out if I do :p

I also feel the Submas grip ever so lightly relaxing (unless they decide to do Unova remakes haha XD), so I might introduce some of my numerous ocs in 2024! I'll probably start with the conductor oc ;]

Thank you for all your support! (you are all very nice! ToT), I still have a good amount of submas stuff planned in the works so look forward to that (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

If you are interested, I also have some commentary and behind the scenes for some of my submas illustrations! I wanna talk about it and now seems like a good time to do so now that the year is over! (Beware! its going to be long!)

All titles are linked to the original post

Lunch Break

hoho! This one is the sort of AU thing in which the only thing that changes is that I give Emmet a Victini friend (not a part of his team, I dubbed them the "victory duo" because Emmet likes winning and Victini is the Victory Pokemon), I planned out a few wordless comics regarding the idea, they were all very lighthearted slice of life kind of stuff, usually Victini causing some mischief and the brothers having to deal with it

and here's the thumbnails for this piece! I played around with various angles but decided to keep it simple and choose a straight on angle. It was originally a snack break and Emmet sharing a granola bar with Victini, but as I was planning it, submas unexpectedly showed up in the Pokemon Anime where they were serving ekiben, after learning about it it quickly turned into a lunch break! (how fun when new information lines up with an art piece you are working on hoho! ^ ^) After studying what foods Ekiben usually have in them (there was quite a variety!) I took what I learned and try to make the food look like the gear station logo :D

In the background there are children drawings because in the battle subway one of the trainer classes you can face off against are preschoolers, and I thought at least one of them would share their drawings with the subway bosses (and of course why wouldn't they hang it up?), there is also a trophy in which you can get in the players room if you beat the subway bosses on the super trains (one day, battling competitively is not my forte), I did my best to make Emmet's office feel lived in by adding a little bit of clutter (like adding a note) but overall very organized

(hey hey that joltik mug looks familiar in the corner there, its the same one Rei is holding in the christmas drawing)

Bonus Emmet and Victini Drawings

aw come on dude, not on the trains!

ah this one, it gave me quite a bit of frustration! This piece I used to challenge myself on perspective, and challenge me it did! The version you see now is I believe the 6th iteration of this drawing! The reason for restarting so many times is because I originally wanted it to be in 3 point perspective, but I couldn't get it to look right so its now in 2 point... Haha Some valuable lessons learned there!

This illustration was inspired by the history of New York Subway Trains and Graffiti! I read about it when I got to visit the New York Transit Museum and found it super interesting!! Then I went I gotta do something with this! Since Unova is based in New York after all!

I got so many subway surfer comments, they don’t know I forgot subway surfers existed while making this and that I am a huge nerd lmao

I had a lot of fun designing the graffiti on the train (yes it says among us) stylizing the fictional letters was so fun! I studied some graffiti to see how they do it, I could've pushed the graffiti style more but then it would be illegible! I also mixed in elements of Grafaiai graffiti, and trainer that is running away is the artist trainer class in SCVL because they are graffiti artists! And the train that got graffitied is the Wifi Train, due to BW (and the DS) servers being shut down, I doubt that train gets used much anymore, which makes it a perfect target!

Derailed!

hohoho! This was a fun one! I'm not sure how many of you guys read my tags, but in there I did state that this piece was based off the fact that model trains are powered by electrifying the rail it runs on (very low watts mind you) and the fact that Joltik eats electricity, but thats not the only inspiration, it was also inspired by those videos of cats laying on the layout and derailing the train!

Theres quite a variety of thumbnails for this idea (including a comic!), and the idea was there in 2022, but this year I decided to fully commit to it! I started rendering the top right one and almost finished it, but it felt really boring to me, so I switched it up and made some thumbnails in a new perspective and viola! thats what ended up being finished!

The train that is being derailed are Sanriku Railway Type 36s, based off a model train I have in my collection! (While sharing this fact on the original post Haiku Bot detected it as a Haiku?! and this art went out of my target audience, that certainly was a day (⊙□⊙;))

Also I straight up put a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine in the background, I'm not sure if people noticed cuz its quite blurry, the fact that nobody said anything means I probably would’ve gotten away with it before sharing this fact, so hehe :3c

Unexplained Melancholy

eyy! this one! It started out wholly different

It was originally me dropping Warden Ingo in various natural landscapes around Hisui as I didn't feel like drawing anymore linear perspective (ah, but heres the thing, all environments require a little bit of perspective lol), and it was just going to be Warden Ingo hanging out in a lush forest, specifically by the train rock that was shown in his concept art! but after sitting on it, I realized I could do something more with it! by making it a snowy environment I could make callbacks to Emmet's coat being white! hence the "SNOWY!!!" being scribbled there, that was added like weeks afterwards, Then I realized I could push it even more by making the whole environment about Emmet's colors! So the new thumbnail is in color because thats whats its about!

The moon smile thing was stumbled on by complete accident, while working on it it felt empty there and I added Emmet's smile to fill the space before going "moon!!!"

The piece is also a sort of a parallel to last years piece “I am Emmet, I wish for Ingo and I to be a two-car train once more” composition wise, sort of, I tried to at least 👍

Black Tower and Whitetree Hollow

Ah! I was quite proud of this one! Black City and White Forest are some of my favorite places in Unova mainly because the parallels are so very cool!

As the thumbnails suggest it was all going to be in complete black and white, as I was working on it though I could not help but add some values in there so yup! I quite like both compositions but the perspective won me out, plus that one focuses more on the characters than the other one (as much as I love backgrounds, it really is supposed to be about Emmet and Ingo U_U)

Being places of duality and having a battle challenge in there, it really fit them!

Emmet drops the hottest single of all time 🔥🔥🔥

Not really much to say about this one since it was very much done on a whim, but

its not the first time I drew Emmet with his hat backwards, I did this little doodle around the same time I did the train graffiti piece, been wanting to do something with this silly idea, and when I heard that audio, I went :o

Following Some Rumors of a Time Machine

the finale! I decided to choose Area Zero because its a very cool place! I am inspired by cool places! and I decided to give it my all for this one!

The thumbnail I made was more for jotting down the idea, and the landscape was going to be more eyelevel? Later I decided to make it so you were looking down into the crater and you get to see the fog blocking the crystal caverns, to show that Emmet was going deeper into Area Zero and the Deepest part is his destination (the time machine, not the underdepths, I didn't know about that yet haha!) I was always going to make Emmet encounter a Slither Wing, with it being based off Volcarona, a gen 5 pokemon :]

Anyways, That's all I have to say! I hope you found it interesting! (and enjoyed my varying quality in sketches and thumbnails XD) Thanks for listening! see you in 2024! ✌

#Art Summary 2023 #Art Summary

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queenlua · 4 months ago

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Writer interview game

tagged by @ultrakatua , hello thank you i’m a slut for attention

(if you're reading this you should feel free to consider yourself tagged, even/especially if you feel like you don't know me that well!)

When did you start writing?

Since I was pretty little… my 1st/2nd grade teacher had this thing where everyone had to write something in their journal every morning and I was SUPER tryhard about it, and when she told us we didn’t have to write about our lives, we could write about ANYTHING, I definitely started making up wild stories n shit

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read anything and everything. I guess I wouldn’t be a very good writer of big nonfiction history tomes, but that’s mostly because it requires, y’know, knowing a lot of history first; if I had that knowledge it seems like it’d be fun to try!

I used to say “I could never write a mystery” but then I read Tana French and was like ooooh maybe mysteries are cool actually so. huh. i guess i can imagine myself trying to write just about anything once. (in practice i mostly end up writing a combination of moody litfic and shlocky scifi/fantasy)

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I’ve occasionally tried to actively emulate a specific author’s style, but that kind of thing feels kind of hard to sustain for more than the length of a writing exercise. it's kind of like trying to talk with a different accent. like, sure, you CAN train yourself to talk a different way… but i like how i talk fine, i’m too lazy to change :P

i dunno if i’ve heard many ppl comparing my writing to Actual Authors! and i lack the objectivity to figure it out myself haha

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i do the Truman Capote thing where i mostly write lying down (but on a couch instead of in bed b/c partner is an extremely light sleeper and i do most my writing between midnight and 4am lol)

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

god i wish i knew!!! then maybe i’d be able to muster it up on demand!!!

(in fanficland i seem to tend to glom onto a specific character and then just write ten fics Examining That Character From Every Angle. in origficland it’s that but usually with some sort of archetype or folktale or something that i’ve become briefly obsessed with)

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

…I did have a moment earlier this month where I typed a line of dialogue, thought to myself “that sounds faintly familiar hm,” did a ctrl+f on my computer, and discovered I’d used a very similar line of dialogue in an abandoned WIP from seven years ago, in a scenario VERY THEMATICALLY/SITUATIONALLY familiar to the WIP i was working on, and i was like. oh my god. i so have a Type why am i like this

(in this particular situation the Theme & Variation was along the lines of “doing a Horrible Thing under duress but also none of these other fucks are willing or able to do it so i guess i gotta, jfc.” skimming over my past few pieces, inasmuch as there’s any commonality between them, i think i can point at, like… “feeling trapped by a mostly-internal sense of obligation that is nonetheless *experienced* as though it were external,” “people talking past each other for very good yet nonetheless tragic reasons,” “clueless rich guys,” “angry women contemplating murder”)

((wait, also: awful dinner parties and awful sex. fuck, why didn’t i lead with that one. i want to write awful dinner parties and bad sex for the entire rest of my life))

What is your reason for writing?

passes time between now and the grave

(less glibly: i get pretty unhappy if i go a long time without Making something, and of all my creative-ish abilities, writing is the one i find most satisfying)

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Once I finished playing a game, thought to myself “that was good but I really want backstory for [character] and actually I’m pretty sure I have the only correct take on said backstory,” and then proceeded to write that fic. A commenter came in saying “hey I came here because I was really craving backstory for [character] and now I can stop reading because yours is clearly The One that I was looking for, thanks." That felt really good! how often have i had to write a fic, not because I wanted to, but because NO ONE ELSE had written the one I wanted to read??? Glad to spare you some trouble, random internet person.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

for origfic: the author is dead babey. do not perceive me. i am not here

for fanfic: i still don’t mind if the reader simply Does Not Perceive Me; the work itself is the thing i care most about. but, y’know. if someone reads my fic & is like “i’m insane about this character in the exact same way Lua is, i’m-a slide into her DMs,” i’m very down for that, lol. it’s like whale songs. i’m out here singing my goofy tune and maybe i never hear anything back but if i do that’d be a sweet bonus

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

hmmmm. i’m never quite sure how to think about this sort of question… people often answer with something like “dialogue” or “descriptive imagery” or whatever, but that started to feel kind of weird to me at some point? like pointing at a symphony piece and being like “the low winds were especially good at staying in tune,” like it may be a correct observation, but also the whole orchestra has to be in tune to *some* extent for the piece as a whole to work, and when it *is* working the thing you point out as a strength isn’t gonna be something ticky-tack like that

…but i’m not sure what i’d specifically point to as a higher-order thing haha. i guess, last time i reread some of my own stuff, i was pretty pleased with how much interpersonal *tension* there was in various “ppl talking in rooms” scenes (see: awful dinner parties), so maybe something along those lines

How do you feel about your own writing?

arguably the main reason to write fanfic is so I can go back and reread it 2+ years later and be like “damn this shit rules, bitch was really onto something there”

(i like it! it’s pretty fun good stuff! a pleasing mix of action/plottiness/gratuitousness and, like, actual character and narrative work)

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toonylooons · 4 months ago

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saviour carl stuff :33

INFO DUMP WARNINNNG

i have more than this buttt im too lazy to get my sketchbook to get morr photos.

Anyways im about to infodump about this So fair warning something something

Okay so HERES a fanfiction i started and didnt finish cuz i cant write dialogue LOL AND HERE IS A WORK IN PROGRESS PLAYLIST....

anyways, the rest of this is gonna be so unorganised because i cant think like a normal person

I SEE NEGAN AND CARLS RELATIONSHIP IN THIS UNIVERSE TO BE SUPER FATHER-SON-Y of course its not gonna be perfect and its probably unhealthy to a ton of degrees but it is negan so u cant rlly expect all that much...

I think carl ends up clinging to negan after negan finds him because he is a scared 14 year old boy who basically just got out of a terrible situation emm :P yeah

also basically if u dont wanna read the fanfiction i linked umm the alternate universe starts at the destruction of the prison and carl gets split up from his family and stuff, and everyone and everything LOL and then he ends up with the claimers which obviously sucks ass he is with them for a few months (and it progressively gets worse as opposed to it immediately being awful and abusive or whatever) and then negan finds him blah blaj blah

ALSO HE LOST HIS EYES WHILE WITH THE CLAIMERS

I see carl in this universe being more like edgy and teenage angsty, he is almost """"sheltered"""" by the sanctuary and its very obvious negans personality has effected his own

ummm another thing is that carl is at all the pickups with the saviours aswell as the lineups because negan uses him as like a "wow even our weak members(children) are screwed the flip up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (because of his eye LOL)

Thanks random person on fanfciton.net for giving me this idea btw

IGNORE HOW IN SOME OF THE DRAWINGS HE STILL HAS HIS EYE i was being lazy about the eyepathc LOL

CARL also gets really desensitized to death and stuff, and he ends up doing some awful shit aswell

Carl is gay in this universe but he doesnt know this he thinks he likes girls LOL

when carl is at the alexandria pickup, he recognises his dad and daryl but neither of them recognise him because of how different he looks since having been 13 (the eyepatch and longer hair, also just doesnt have the same sort of aura about him if that makes sense)

he doesnt wear ricks hat at the lineups or the pickups, usually its in his backpack. HE ACTUALLY THINKS RICK AND EVERYONE IS DEAD and negan would def put it into carls head if he found out (about rick being carls dad) that rick abandoned him or soemthing

Yeah okay thanks for listening there is definitely more i am gonna add onto this later emmm thanks thaks thanks

#information dump

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prism-empurress · 7 months ago

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Siffrin goes to Day Treatment chapter 2. there's a lot of projection in this to be honest LOL

Why wasn't Mirabelle here? On the bus with him? The bus was noisy, old, and the roads were riddled with potholes. Every so often there was a hideous screech and bump that nearly took Siffrin out of his seat. Josephine grimaced.

"Sorry, the roads are bad. Just…hang in there."

Siffrin covered his ears tightly, gritting his teeth, closing his eye as shut as possible.

Please be over. Please be over. Please be over.

Next time, he'd be riding with five other people. Were they going to be loud and talkative? Siffrin's stomach screamed imagining it. Hastily, they ran their fingers over and over the inside of their plaid coat. Siffrin took some slow breaths in and out, trying not to yelp when yet another bump was hit.

Siffrin watched the buildings pass by in the bus. A shop, a laundromat, a gas station…

Another bump. They anchored themself to their seat, fingers gripping the ripped leather tightly.

"We're almost there, Seth."

"Uhm. S--Siffrin." Siffrin grimaced.

"Siffrin. Sorry. Beautiful name."

Siffrin breathed a little easier, releasing his clutch on the seat.

"Thank you."

"Your accent is so pretty, too. Where are you from?"

"…a place."

"Bet you get all sorts of ladies, don't you?"

Siffrin laughed.

"Actually, uhm, I am dating someone. He's…he's a big, buff sweetie."

"Aw, that's sweet!" Josephine giggled. "How long have you two been together?"

"Almost a year." Siffrin smiled. "I want to plan something special."

Josephine nodded.

"Tell you what. I can tell you're really nervous about seeing a bunch of new faces."

Shit. Was he THAT obvious? just now, Siffrin noticed beads of sweat trailing off his forehead.

"When you get to the center, you're just gonna sit in any spot you want. There's couches, a table with four chairs, a rocking chair, there's plenty of room. And when you get seated, the lady in charge will ask you to introduce yourself."

Introduce himself. He fidgeted more with his coat. What if his voice cracked? What if everybody asks him questions?

"And you'll just say your name, and what you like to do."

"…I like woodcarving…but…I can't really…do that there."

"You can still mention it. And a few other things. What're some other things you like?"

"P-puns." He spat out. "Theatre. Acting. I know some stuff about space, too. Uhm."

Siffrin rubbed his arm, praying that nobody would question why he's wearing a turtleneck plus a coat in the warm weather. He was a little warm, but he wasn't about to take his coat off.

"See? That's perfect. You can say that, and you'll feel better after." Josephine nodded.

"What if people ask questions?"

"I'd say answer one or two. Three questions if you're up for it."

Why did this have to be so hard? Couldn't he just put on a facade and act it out? He just wanted to be back in his bed, away from the world.

His bed.

It was so soft, and plush, with so many blankets. It was much better than sleeping up in the trees like he was used to. But he still kept his window wide open at night to feel the breeze and smell the trees. He wasn't used to having an actual home yet.

Siffrin sighed. They wanted to be back in bed SO badly. They were NOT a morning person.

rrrrrrt….screeeeeech…. the bus came to a stop in front of a large, blue building. There was a sign hanging from the door, saying "where hope begins".

The bus door opened slowly and noisily, making Siffrin clutch his head again. Just breathe, just breathe. Now get up from your seat.

They weren't moving.

"It's okay, Siffrin." Josephine said.

"I'm sorry." He spat out. "I just…I'm-- I'm scared. I don't know what to expect."

"I'll go in with you."

"….uhm…do you…know a Mirabelle, by any chance? Super pretty, fluffy cloud hair, always wears a big ribbon?"

"Oh yes, I know her! She isn't here today, she's attending a lecture at one of the Houses."

Siffrin gnawed at his lip. What he would give to just have Mirabelle by his side.

Just get up.

He stiffly got up from his seat, put one leg in front of the other, and exited the bus with great effort. Josephine reached to take his hand, but he shook his head at her.

"Please don't touch me."

"Okay. I won't."

Entering the building with Josephine right behind them, Siffrin took in one last gasp of fresh air.

Six pairs of eyes were on him. One set belonging to the lady in charge, the other five belonging to the clients.

"There's our new guy!" The lady smiled. "Everybody, this is our newest client, Siffrin."

"HiI'mSiffrin." He choked out, waving.

Siffrin was met with a chorus of "Hi Siffrin!" in return.

"Tell us about yourself."

Siffrin was silent for a minute, scanning the room. There were all kinds of activities to do, various mental health awareness posters on the walls, and there was coffee and water to drink.

"Uhm. I like theatre."

"That's pretty cool," The lady said, "Can you act out something for us?"

Siffrin laughed nervously, adjusting his hat.

"Not right now, maybe later."

"Alright, well, everybody, I hope you'll help Siffrin adjust to how we do things here!"

He wanted to vanish. To be anywhere but here. But he promised Mirabelle he'd give this program a try.

For now, he sat at the table with various coloring pages on it. He expected to see simple cartoons, but was surprised to see intricate mandalas instead. A few other pages consisted of flowery fields, a couple were of furnished rooms…

Okay. He could color for a few hours until lunch. But he was expected to socialize as well. But with who?

#i wasn't sure how to end this chapter LOL #siffrin #in stars and time #isat fanfic #isat spoilers #just in case

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fairycosmos · 1 year ago

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really urgent

do you have any advice for dealing with violent, aggressive younger siblings? I try to avoid them both as much as I can but I you know tell him to do the dishes or no, I won’t share my food with him and he’ll kick me, scream or yell and he always taunts me oh are you scared I’ll hit you? and I’m physically disabled, weak, have no balance and it’s so humiliating. and I just have to take it and pretend I don’t care. I also always tell myself to just ignore him like never interact with him again unless my dad tells me to or sth and only then but idk I can never keep my promise. UGH now I’m crying because I don’t know what to do. Like they both threaten violence, one is 15 the other 19, but they’re both really strong and muscular. None of my friends understands because most of them are only children or simply don’t live in an insane family. I hate them both so much and I hate that I’m scared of them and that they know it. They’re also both big misogynists and this is like stuff that they’ll brag about to their friends. I’ve tried telling my parents but they don’t really listen, they either don’t believe or tell me it’s my fault if they retaliate. I also can’t tell my grandparents bc it’s humiliating and also I think they would think that I’m exaggerating. But idk what to do and it’s getting annoying. and also dangerous. help (like there’ve been times my brother and his friends have chased me through my town I mean literally, like I had to run away and hide. Or times when the older one has p*ssed on my bed. The older one also at times has threatened to use a knife on my mom and cut her, so she’s also scared off him, which is why she won’t intervene) 😐

hey, thank you for reaching out to me. this is so so messed up and i'm so sorry you have to deal with it - i literally can not fathom the gravity of what you're going through and the fear you have to live with every day. it's completely unacceptable and no matter what, there is no justifying the shit you've been forced to put up with - while i absolutely understand that your parents are scared of your brothers too, they have a duty of care and responsibility to protect you and they are not seeing it through by allowing this to continue. i know it's very nuanced and i'm not blaming anyone other than your brothers for how they're acting, but none of this is fair to you at all. i also understand that telling your grandparents seems like a scary, daunting prospect but if it is something that is on the cards i really urge you to consider it. write down what you need to say if that helps you get your thoughts organised. if you're worried about having to prove their behaviour, would you parents not at least consider backing you up on this? are you able to record a snippet of these meltdowns to show them? though you truly should not have to go to those lengths, it's awful. you just deserve all the support you can possibly get, and i don't want fear of not being believed to stop you from seeking that.

this is a very serious situation and i'm worried about giving you the wrong advice that could possibly exacerbate things. staying in your room and completely disengaging from them as much as possible is definitely recommended as a first step, but there has to be other resources you can possibly look into. i'm going to leave various links below that can offer you that support and those coping mechanisms and i hope you at least check some of them out - i wish i could offer more insight myself but your brothers sound extremely dangerous and i think it's urgent that you reach out to family, friends, communal support, your GP, or the authorities that are actually tangibly around you. i know that's infinitely easier said than done, and i'm not expecting you to gain some superhuman amount of courage that will allow you to sort everything out overnight. that's not your job. it is absolutely 100% understandable that you are scared and traumatised by their actions. what i am saying is that you are clearly at a place where you know this isn't right and that it can not continue, and that the resources below can help guide you towards reaching out and also coping with the situation at hand. i hope you're able to check them out, even just one or two, and implement them into your life moving forward. again, i'm so so sorry you're dealing with this and i hope you know that there are people who can help, that you are not doomed to live in this exact situation forever. sending so so much love your way, please reach out if and when possible. you do not deserve this and i am rooting for you with all of my heart. if you need a friend, someone to talk to a more specific form of support please reach out to me and i will try my best to help as much as i am able. x

if you're under 18 - please please consider reaching out to a teacher, a friend's parent or CPS/childline (resources for that here, here, here and here.) if you are in ever in immediate danger, call the authorities immediately. it is ok to put yourself first.

info on sibling abuse

international abuse helplines

disability and abuse helpline

getting help for domestic violence

domestic violence safety plan pdf

info on toxic siblings and estrangement

living with abuse: coping mechanisms pdf

abuse: self help guide pdf

the survivors handbook: support for disabled women

disability & abuse resource

simple trauma coping mechanisms pdf

coping with trauma worksheets/exercises pdf list

how to report domestic abuse 1

how to report domestic abuse 2

how to report domestic abuse 3

women with disabilities: how to identify abuse and get help

anxiety: coping mechanisms pdf

healing from domestic abuse pdf

surviving domestic abuse pdf

domestic abuse: survivors handbook pdf

identifying and coping with emotional abuse

#anon #tw abuse #tw domestic abuse #tw violence #tw domestic violence

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str1v1ng4z3r0 · 7 months ago

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Tw: b/p rant

B1nged so bad today I hate myself and this stupid brain of mine 😭😭😭 I finally had a day where my bf had an evening shift and I had nothing to stop me from a whole day of f4sting. And then I got to work and someone had put out a ginormous bowl of candy… and Fridays at primary schools… well let me just say it sometimes feels as if I’m a veterinarian at a zoo where the animals have gotten some sort of crazy virus. And after my first class it was like my brain checked out when I sat down in the staff room and suddenly was stuffing my face in that bowl of hell. After that I felt like a total loser and that all day was ruined and all of that…

Also, due to the situation with my coworker yesterday I got no lesson planning done yesterday as I had planned for, so I had to work over today to plan next week. What does this stupid girl decide to do? Eat like 6(??!!) crisp bread with BUTTER!!!

And apparently that wasn’t enough, she also stopped to get a salad for dinner (no the point of this day was not having to eat any meal at all you stupid ašš)… but yeah no apparently I couldn’t even do that right. Not only did I buy the salad (which might had been at least a little bit okay) but I also got a whole box of raspberries (which is absolutely low c4l and better than most stuff on a low c4l day but as I said before - this was supposed to be a f4sting day which means everything over 5 c4ls is forbidden in my book), and also I was craving salty black licorice and it was a hot day so I wanted ice cream, I looked for a low c4l licorice ice cream but they were all high c4l so I decided to go with a low c4l mango passion. Oh yeah I now remember, I had also already picked up some lentil cakes (like rice cakes but lentil version) to ease my salt craving so I really didn’t even need anything more with salt??? When I finally got to the register they had licorice pastilles right in front of me and I just see my hand reaching for it and putting it on the line. I finished all of these except for the lentil cake where I had like 4(?)

Wait wait wait… it doesn’t end here. I then get home to see I have a lot of cans to recycle and in Sweden you get 1SEK store value card for each can. And since I was on such a loser-roll I was almost obligated to go recycle and get something from the store. Wow when I write it down I actually get nauseated. But yes, this happened and no I didn’t buy just one thing. I got chips AND a chocolate bar AND sweet&salty nuts. I only had like a handful of chips and then threw it away.

So yeah this day was a disaster. I’m now on a long walk and know that I’m in no way going to be able to undo any of this bullshit or even get close to my regular net limit. About half an hour ago I had to stop in the bushes behind a playground and p*rge because I felt like my whole body was about to burst. It was awful and I felt so dirty doing it next to a place where children go to play… thank god it was in the evening so no kids were outside to play. Also I haven’t p*rged on purpose in such a long time and it brought back bad memories from 10ish years ago. Also… when you don’t to it on a regular basis you’re not prepared for it so all I had was 2 Kleenex, half a bottle of water and thankfully some gum. But I seriously had to blow my nose in pads in the end because the Kleenex weren’t enough.

I wish today didn’t exist. I’m such a failure 😭🤯

#jaztexts

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invisiblegarters · 2 years ago

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Never Let Me Go Ep 5

Chanon is the worst dad. And he’s not a very good bodyguard either, so he’s sort of failing on all counts except driving, I guess. Maybe he should stick to that and be quiet about everything else. I would like to say that I can’t believe that his son is standing in front of him beat all to hell and all he can do is yell at him about not protecting Nueng, but unfortunately I can believe it. He’s awful.

Also, Nueng is almost a grown ass man on the verge of taking over his father’s company - he is surely old enough to handle his own drinking, especially if he’s allergic. He made the dumb decision, not Palm. And good on Palm for biting back. I don’t actually think he resents Nueng for all of this - I think he heavily resent the situation and maybe is coming to resent his dad for putting him in it - but it could very easily go that way.

I am so happy that Nueng heard all that, though, because my favorite thing about these types of narratives is the angst inherent to wondering if the dude who has sworn to protect you (and in this case, very specifically protect your heart) is actually feeling something real of if he’s just taking one for the team. Look, we the audience know that Palm is already pretty far gone, but Nueng doesn’t. He can’t be in Palm’s head, and as much as he says that Palm’s easy for him to read, the truth is that when it comes to the way Palm feels about him Nueng can’t read for shit. He can tell when Palm is being off but not the reason why, and because he also has feelings for Palm he can’t trust that if he does read interest from him that it isn’t his own desires being reflected back, whether it’s because he’s imagining it or Palm is just...doing the job. Giving the young master what he wants. It’s delicious and I love it and i hope it gets played with.

Palm seeing what a concerned, loving parent looks like hurt my heart, though. And I’m happy we didn’t get a scene of Tanya ripping him a new one for not helping her son enough.

Okay, I know what this says about me, but I find Nueng’s attempts at apologizing without actually apologizing hilarious, as well as his pissy reaction to Palm putting more distance between them. I said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s such a spoiled brat. Leaving the pair of shoes with the cook to give to Palm is just...my dude. I am entirely sure that he did that because he figured that Palm wouldn’t be able to give them back if he had someone else pass them on. Thank goodness Palm disabused him of that notion right quick.

I’m quite happy that Palm didn’t just give in, and I’m glad that Nueng has to feel the effects of his stupid, angry, jealous rant. Not just in the way that Palm won’t forgive him, but the deliberate distance he keeps between them afterwards, even as Nueng keeps trying to prod him back towards what they were like before.

Ha, Ben with his “maybe the horse wants a partner”. Smooth.

Literally everyone in his life thinks that Nueng is a burden that Palm has to deal with as a job, including Nueng. But I think Palm would be fine with it if not for the fact that so much of his job now consists of watching him with Ben, ha. Hurt as he was by everything Nueng said, I still think this.

I love Maggie. I think it, she says it. Preach, girl. And she’s not wrong about Palm needing to love himself more. But what’s with the Silent Night sounding refrain? Every time that one plays I’m just very wtf.

Okay, so this scene. The outing and Ben’s awful father. See, I think you can see that Nueng just has no clue what it is like to be truly powerless - he is in some ways, but in a lot of ways that matter he has more power than his peers. More power than Palm who has to swallow down all his bitterness when his father basically tells him that his life is not his own, and that he better be prepared to spend it following Nueng around. Ben who can’t even be himself lest his father lose his cool.

I get the desire to be mad at Ben for his betrayal, I really do. He’s the one who pursued Nueng, he’s the one who wanted the kiss and who keeps hinting not-so-subtly that he wants more than that, and yet the second there’s a little heat under his feet he’s pointing fingers at Nueng and playing the innocent.

Except Chimon is actually pretty good at his job, and I could read every single thing going on in Ben’s head, and i just...it’s all well and good to think or say that we’d be different, and I know that our sympathy is supposed to lie with Nueng here. Mine does, but it is also with Ben. He’s visibly miserable the whole time, he tries to squirm out of it by not answering, and when his dad won’t let him, he shoots a look full of apology and pleading at Nueng, and his entire face screws up against what he’s saying even as he tells his dad what he wants to hear. Cowardly? Sure. But he’s gotta go home with that man, and I don’t get the sense that he’s one of the loving kind of parents in this drama. I have a feeling that that’s not done, and that things are going to come to a head there. Look, I just feel for him, okay?

*sigh* It’s gonna turn out to be Chopper who outed them, isn’t it? Of course it is. Why am I even doubting it? He was too calm. Full disclosure this really freaking annoys me and I’m probably still gonna want good things for him. It’s the Perth Effect.

I do like that both Palm and Chopper went for the person who most mattered to them in the situation, though.

Pfft at Palm just ripping off the cast. Pretty sure that’s not how they work.

Okay, I love the rooftop kiss for many reasons. The first is that it’s just a good kiss. Palm saw his chance and did not hesitate. And he really went for it, too. I also really really liked that they shot it from the same or close enough to the same angles as the Ben kiss so that you can really see the difference, especially if you watched the eps back to back like I just did. Nueng is still a little stiff, but he’s fully participating in this kiss, tilting up and leaning in for it whereas with Ben he was more being kissed than kissing. Plus he full on licks his lips before the kiss happens, don’t think I didn’t clock that because I did, I see everything. Then there’s the way he looks after - halfway to wrecked, just from one kiss. I even love that the only thing that really touches is their mouths - both of them are holding back here.

And I think it has a lot to do with the pretext of the kiss. The agreement is that Palm is going to kiss Nueng to wipe out the memory of Ben’s lips on his, so that means that he’s allowed to go so far and no further. He can kiss Nueng like he wants to devour him, but holding him is still forbidden because Nueng is only doing this to rid himself of a bad memory. And Nueng can give into it, can respond like all he wants is to be devoured, but he can’t reach for Palm either, because Palm is only kissing him to help him out. And this is the main reason why I love it. Please bring on the “he said he’d be anything, and the anything I needed was a kiss/to be comforted, it’s not real” angst. Please bring on the “he’s only turning to me because he can’t have who he wants” angst. I am an utter sucker for that stuff and I will eat it up and ask for more. This is the kind of relationship drama I can get behind.

Music choice was really good in this scene too.

I always love supportive moms, and Tanya rocked it. Only I don’t really believe her when she says that Nueng’s happiness comes before the business, sorry. Although I do love her “I will find those bullies and get them for you” mindset. Good for Nueng for deciding to handle it though. Shame that he won’t get to.

I don’t think Tanya’s dead but she was shot in a gnarly place, looks like. That said, I don’t really trust Chanon either so you know, he might just let her bleed a while. Also it’s super sus that he was only shot in the shoulder even though the bike dudes had a lot of time to try for a different spot (like the head).

Also they’re frolicking on a beach next ep and Nueng is asking the important questions, like why Palm kissed him (yesss please be vague in your answer Palm or even say something like “you needed me” please please I know it’s only been half a month but I’ve been really good this year I deserve this), and I can’t see him doing that if he thought his mom might be dead.

I guess we’ll see. And hey, maybe we’ll find out Chopper was also the one who shot them. Why not (yes, I’m already bitter. Leave me alone).

#never let me go #episode 5 #kinda forming the chopper defense squad already #sorry but not really #thai bl

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deafeninggardenerpanda · 1 year ago

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yamikage x arthur? :> (or if you want to rant, m/etak/irby?)

AYO shoutout to the like two people who ship this I SEE YOU QUANBLOVK respect

i know i just said id probably write something cute and fluffy but this ship is deeply hilarious to me as a concept. its divorce the ship. theyd be so ♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️ if that makes sense to certain people. i want them to constantly fume about each other in the same way where it can be interpreted as theyre the only thing the other person ever thinks about and yet if they were to ever finally get rid of the other they would feel sort of empty in their life. detective x master thief vibes. b. batman x joker even???????? anyways they should try to kill each other and then kiss

putting the me//takir//by one under the cut HAHAH THANKS FOR THE BITEY EXCUSE EVEN THOUGH YOUVE ALREADY HEARD MY TANGENTS LOGAN ILY /P /AFF

you know i know i Also just said that i would give people a very long very angry tangent but i think this one from a fandom perspective is very fascinating. in terms of the jp fandom in which we all know its the most popular ship by Miles i personally just try to turn my head and give them more benefit of the doubt due to cultural differences regarding views on fictional content and like. while its gross if they ship something weird i think theres something to be said about westerners trying to enforce their own views regarding purity onto other cultures does that make sense. thats just their own problem they need to work out and so im not gonna Inherently think someones an awful person for shipping me//takirby (unless its anime me//takirby or some shit obviously. take this whole paragraph as me operating under the assumption that theyre using game me//takirby. if anyone ships anime me//takirby im just killing you)

in terms of the western fandom shipping me//takirby..... oh Boy

ive just been ignoring the fact that people Could see kirby as an adult but likeeee. like maybe he was an adult in the past but nowadays kumazaki has Definitely been leaning towards making him much much younger. kumazakis taken his usual very vague open to interpretation stance with insisting that kirbys "wakamono" (which for people who didnt catch that interview, just very vaguely means "young person" which opens up the interpretation that kirby could even be as old as 25ish in canon) but cmon you cant keep making his face bigger in proportion to his body making him look younger and cuter and making him super super tiny in comparison to other characters and having him explicitly not being able to read and write even though other characters can and also having him draw like shit with not even coloring inside the lines and having his best friend be bandana waddle dee and then confirming the waddle dees are all children in forgotten land and then being like "Yeah he could be an adult". like i dont mean to make the assumption that adults cant have child-like qualities but all of those in conjunction with each other are kindaaaaaaaaa hm. the fact that he cant read or write is really the most egregious to the argument that he could be an adult. but anyways

me//takirby instantly gets an L in the western fandom because of how frequently its shipped by prosh//ippers to get a rise out of people full stop. i did know some people who shipped me//takirby purely because they had spent so much time in the jp fandom spaces and thus assumed he was an adult from the get-go or could not see him as anything other than an adult so uh sorry to those people but 9/10 times im just kicking you if you ship it

#dgp askgame #asks #bugstarcake #ask to tag

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icarus-does-fall · 11 months ago

Text

Part two of the gay people chapter >:)

Which is

Chapter five

Hearts aflame

It's been a few days since Kain ahad last seen Michael, and he'd been practising on his writing as well- Outside the prying eyes of everyone else on the ship of course. And well everyone else was busy with their morning routines so Kain had decided to meander his way down to the cathedral to bother Michael.

Michael was sitting outside in the morning light, a decent ways away from everyone else around who all seemed to be in some sort of prayer. Michael on the other hand was more so studying the people and taking notes, not paying much attention to his surroundings or wanting to be a part of the prayer circle.

Kain, being kain, decides to approach as silently as possible and sit beside him waiting to see how long it takes Michael to notice him.

It took several minutes before Michael finally noticed that Kain was sitting next to him, and when he finally did notice Kain he yelped quietly and almost dropped his notebook “You're... You're back…?”

"Ayup hot stuff," he nods at him before looking out at the street, "you eaten breakfast yet?"

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, Michael still wasn't quite used to how casual Kain could be but after a moment he shook his head. “There's not really a... breakfast here... There's daily fasts and such, we have snacks and dinner though... eventually.”

Kain nodded slowly, he knew what it was like to go without food for long periods of time. "Do you want breakfast?"

Michael looked towards the people a part of the prayer group for a moment before his attention focused back onto Kain and he smiled softly. “Yes, actually breakfast sounds delicious.”

"Sweet! cause I know this fucken wicked good place yeah? You'll like it, trust me." Kain grins and grabs Michaels wrist.

Michael jumps slightly at the sudden contact that wasn't in a violent way yet nodded his head after a second and slid his notebook away into his pocket before standing to follow Kain. “Very well, I will follow wherever you shall lead.”

Kain almost immediately dragged him away from the cathedral and then into shaddier parts of the city. Without even meaning to he stuck out like a sore thumb, even with Kain by his side who seemed to be well known in these areas. At one point on their journey to places unknown to Michael Kain stopped to check in on the kids who were living on the streets. His heart was melting at seeing this softer side of Kain despite the confusion it brought.

A few moments later after checking in on the kids the two arrived at a run down, hole in the wall looking tavern and Kain being Kain ever so gently kicked the door open. "Helloooo~" he called out in a sing-song voice.

Michael, watching all these interactions with a barely hidden awe, the very same person who was just trying to basically kill him a few days before now was helping orphans and those on the street. And taking him to breakfast. No he wasn't starting to like Kain, no. Absolutely not, he is a priest after all. Yet still followed into the... highly suspicious in his mind tavern while giving Kain a side eye for walking in like that. “Do you do everything so... extravagantly?”

"Yep" he smiled as he popped the p, "I do indeed," he turned towards the woman at the bar counter. "Elvira!!! The only woman ever! How are you?"

The attractive tiefling woman was cleaning out the glasses and looked up at Kain and gave him a smile, “Hello there dear, I’m doing well thank you for asking. It’s been a good day so far because nobody has died… yet. Now what kinds of mischief have you been up to lately dearest?” She rests her elbow on the counter.”

Kain saunters up to the centre and copies her pose. "Stars above Elvira you wouldn't believe the shit I've been up to, for starters I found out im directly related to royalty, helped them fix some 100 or something year old curse, figured out a new firework pattern and Wilbur lost one of his baby teeth.....Oh and I met this guy," he nodded towards Michael.

Michael waved politely towards Elvira and gave her a short bow afterwards. It's obvious he was raised in a polite place and one of too many manners yet there was something hiding beneath that as well. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is Michael... This is uh... an interesting establishment you have.”

Her eyes widened a little in surprise, but also amazement. “By the Abyss, that’s some interesting news! Very impressive…” She looked over at Michael, “Pleasure to meet you as well darling~” She gave him a wink and a sly smirk. “You’re new here, hm?” She looks at him up and down and notices he is wearing religious Twilightvania clothing. “I’ll warn you though, people like you tend to meet their demise down here. But Kain will watch your back.”

Michael smiled softly in Elviras direction, it was a side of him that he didn't show every often that he was showing now. “Indeed yet I can hold my own, I'm not simply as I appear, but thank you for the warning and heads up, it's much appreciated.”

"Anyways, I brought him here for the best food in all of twilightvania, that being yours of course!"

She felt flattered “Awww really? You’re such a sweetheart! What would you like then?”

"Well for me I'll get what I normally get," which consisted of a mix plate of bacon, sausage, peameal bacon and eggs.

Michael however struggled for an answer. “Well um... I don't necessarily know what breakfast food consists of, so... I leave my fate up in your hands for meal choices... I don't particularly eat that often.”

Elvira writes down the order on a notepad “Good choice, and hun don't you worry we’ll get you something you'll like. Anything else or is that all?”

"Hmmmm, two strawberry milkshakes?”

“Mhm!” She writes that down too, “I’ll be back in a moment with your food and drinks” She goes into the kitchen.

"Thanks Vi!!"

“...Strawberry milkshakes...? For breakfast?” Michael however even with the chaos around him had gotten slightly stuck in his childhood memories and was vaguely awestruck that he was being allowed to have things again, even if it was just for this short moment in time.

"No better breakfast exists"

Elvira came back with the food and drinks, placing it down in front of them. "There you go, let me know if you need anything else!"

"Thank you Vi you're the best!"

"Oh, I know!" She said confidently as she went back behind the bar counter to serve the other people.

Michael stared at the food placed in front of him and then at Kain, compared to the small plates filled with barely recognizable food at the cathedral (he was in trouble a lot so he got the bare minimum) this seemed like a feast. “This is... So far I like it here.”

Kain flashed him a big smile, "I know right??? Vi's cooking is the best hands down."

“I've had better, but not for a very long time... This.. It's good... Thank you…” Michael laughed quietly and grinned as he shook his head. “My sister would all but kill me if she knew I wasn't at the cathedral right now.”

Kain quirked an eyebrow, "why?"

“She's a... Well she likes the rules... She adapted to this life better than I probably ever will... And I tend to get into trouble a lot whenever I'm out on my own, if you haven't noticed.”

"Yeah but like you'r your own person?"

“You indeed have a point, and I have a few moments here and there where I get to... be me so to speak but even still she's all I have left and I don't care to lose her as well, so I make an effort with the whole church life and rules thing.”

"Ah I get that," Kain nodded solemnly, "the sacrifices we make for our loved ones innit?" He pulled out a flask and took a swig from it.

Michael grinned and nodded his head in agreement. “Indeed, the sacrifices we make... But this has been a nice step away from the rules for even a moment.”

"Don't get ahead of yourself yet, breakfast is just starting," Kain smiled widely.

“This is true but, even still it's been nice to get away from the Cathedral, I appreciate being dragged out for breakfast, it's been an experience.”

"Every moment with me is an experience," he winked cheekily and grinned.

Michael laughed softly and nodded. “So I've noticed.”

"Oh! Wanna see something cool???"

Michael, even after knowing Kain for just a few weeks he still knew that whenever he said something was cool it could have several different actual meanings so he was a bit suspicious but also interested, “Go for it.”

Kain rests his hand palm up in the middle of the table between himself and Michael so he can clearly see it. it starts out small with teeny tiny sparks sparking from kains hand slowly they grow never getting bigger than his palm can contain though. As they continue they become more firework shaped and coloured till kain just straight up has a mini fireworks display in the palm of his hand.

From seeing Kains display Michael was in awe. “Woah... That's... That's impressive... I can do a... slightly similar thing, it's not as pretty however.”

Kain looks at him, "I bet it's still pretty cool" as he looks away from his hand Michael can see the sparks start to lightly burn his palm though he doesn't seem to notice at all.

Upon seeing that Kains hand was still sparking and starting to burn carefully he placed his own hand on top of the sparks until they died out. His hand was overly rough and calloused, it seemed scarred, he didn't have much of a reaction besides seeming pleased that he stopped another burn from appearing. “I can do a couple things with shadows too, it's really not much.”

Kain turns BRIGHT fucken red but doesnt pull away yet his eyes are now fixed onto where Michael has laid his hand on top of his.

Michael however is completely unaware of how much Kain is blushing and is simply content with himself and the small touches the two are sharing. “Do you often catch fire, and then stay on fire?”

"I.....W-what?"

Michael chuckled softly and he gestured towards where he had placed his hand on top of Kain and there was a curious look in his eyes. “You kept sparking...? Fire continued to burn on your hand after the fireworks... Yet you didn't seem bothered, does that happen often?”

"OH uh kinda? I'm not immune to my own abilities hence all the scars," he gestured to the one full body one on his right side and the other patches of ones on the rest of his body, and his other palms. "I don't really got much feeling in the scars so I tend not to feel when it starts to burn me till there real bad burns."

Softly Michael ran his hand along the scars on Kains palm, only for a moment before eventually retracting his hand, nodding as Kain explained everything. “I can understand to an extent... Yet do others not put the fires out on you? Even if you may not feel them, stopping it before there's a chance to cause more harm to you seems beneficial.”

"I'm not exactly a social butterfly.....or likeable… and I mean....a lot of people know me buuuuut they don't like me.”

Michael was doing the confused puppy head tilt thing. “Why don't they like you? You seem nice enough... Granted you did bite me however I did bite you first so I feel like that was well given and deserved.”

" Well I'm aggressive, confrontational, brash, hard headed, the ghost of my dead best friend is bound to my soul, I smoke and drink, I have done awful things and I have no volume control to name a few reasons"

“I understand having ghosts, however none of those seem like terrible reasons to not like a person, it's just a few personality quirks.”

"No I mean literally when I say ghost… ya know what n-never mind."

“You... you have a ghost attached to you?- Im... I'm concerned and my sister would require me to ask further questions, however personally I feel that's a fairly unique reason to choose to like you... or at least not a reason not to dislike you.”

"Oh.....you're.....youre not how I thought you would be."

Kain nodded to himself before looking over Michael’s shoulder and seemingly rolling his eyes at someone or something behind Michael.

Michael tilted his head off to the side, much similar to how a confused puppy would. “I had expectations?”

He shrugged, " I dono just I guess you're not like....as uhhhh what's the woooord ...Ah as intimidating as I thought you would be ya know? I've met some....really shitty people even dated a few" he jokes " I kinda thought you were like them at first. And your not so .... yeah, do with that information as you will"

Michael crossed his arms in a mock offended manner, but there was a slight smile within his eyes, he was enjoying himself. “I can be intimidating! I can be quite scary- I'm just also very polite and know how to be respectful.”

Kain laughed, it's a loud barking full chest sort of laugh "You were still polite even when we were fighting."

“Yes, well... I was raised to be polite even to the people I disliked at the moment, my mother made sure of that, elsewise we'd get chased around with a rolling pin... But that doesn't mean I can't be scary!!”

"I'm certain you could be," he grunted.

"You mentioned your mom, do you still talk to her?"

Michael looks down at the table a bit awkwardly before straightening his sleeves as some sort of nervous tic. “Ah... Well... I would, however, my mother, and by similar manner my father, they met an untimely demise when Mary and I were still quite young. It's how we ended up in the possession of the church, we were found and taken in.”

"Oh fuck I'm sorry I didn't realize! It's kinda stupid but I was only asking cause both my birth parents are also dead.. so if it's any consolation I get it.”

“It's quite alright, I was only 9 and it's been nearly 16 years since it has happened, I've had some time to grow and get over being found in a storm.”

Kain nodded, "yeah me and my little brother were speterted during the.....incident, he got sent to the pits to be trained for the ring but this really lovely woman picked him up, she's an adventure, part of a whole group and everything and they've also taken me in now to I guess."

“The... folks I've run into you with on an occasion or two, they all seem like an eclectic bunch.. My sister has always been better with the people side of things, apparently I'm too "brash" to people fairly often.”

"Hay! Same!" he held out his hand for a high five.

Michael laughed and with a playful shake of his head returned the high five.

"I think they'd like you, my uh people I mean"

Salvador then walked into the tavern casually like it was shady in the slightest. He looked around for a moment before he then spotted Kain, it seemed like a usual occurrence to find Kain there if he wasn't on the boat. Yet this time there was something different, Salvador noticed Kain sitting with a borzoi and he smiled as he walked over, overhearing a little bit of their conversation. "Weeell guess what my boy, people is here!"

"Dad? Whaaaat are you doing here?"

"Sadly to interrupt your little date. We need you for something if you wouldn't mind, it's kind of important."

Kain blushed brightly, trying to ignore the fact that his adoptive father just said he was on a date with a guy that he totally wasn't developing feelings for- Particularly since those feelings he doubted would ever be returned. "Uh what's happening?"

"Important things, I'll explain on the way."

Kain looked at Michael, he looked like he was having some sort of inner struggle before he sighed, pulling some money out of his pocket, putting it on the table and then grabbed Michaels hand, blushing as he did and pulled him up with him, "ok we're ready." He looked back at Michael before looking flustered, "I mean if you want to tag along that is, no pressure though!"

Michael was also blushing slightly and with the hand Kain wasn't holding he scratched the back of his neck. “You are currently in possession of my hand, and while I would love to travel with you, unfortunately I must get back to the cathedral. I can't escape my fate forever.”

Salvador smiled warmly at the two of them. "Go ahead Kain, Kris is waiting outside the tavern. Me and this fellow will be with you in a moment."

"Uh....ok?" He looked back at Michael and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before wipering to him, "if he says anything mean let me know and I'll switch the sugar for his coffee with salt… and also cocaine."

After Kain went outside to Kris Salvador turned to Michael, tipping his hat and extending his hand. "I'm Salvador Dick, don't call me Mr. Dick. And you are my son's new acquaintance? What's your name?"

Michael nodded slightly in response to what Kain said as he watched him leave before shaking Salvador's hand and then half bowed respectfully. “Right, um hello, my name is Michael Sanctius, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance... Your son is really nice-”

"Nah, you don't gotta bow, as great as I am. It's nice to meet you Michael." Salvador then continued to hold onto Michaels hand and looked over him, his gaze analytical and cold just for a moment before he nodded and took a step back as he released Michaels hand. “Hmmmmmm… I like you, you have passed my vibe check... but still you must face the rest of the council but don't worry kid they'll love you."

Salvador laughed and clapped Michael on the back as the two walked out of the tavern and he continued to speak.

"You seem like a good match, keep in mind the rest of the family will have to vibe check you too. Just be prepared, and I don't think you need the whole 'You better not hurt ‘em or else' talk. You already know that part. Just be nice and understanding to Kain." He looked back towards the direction of Kain. "He's had it rough for a long time and he's finally got the love he deserves, but I think you already knew that." He turned his head back to Michael. He smiled and tipped his hat again. "Now c'mon, I think I interrupted your hand holding." He chuckled warmly and Desdemona chimed softly as well.

Michael was blushing brightly at this point and wasn't expecting any of that, meeting the family this soon wasn't on his list. Gods above he wasn't even technically supposed to be having relationships and with that he wasn't quite sure where this is going for him. “Um... Wha- okay?”

As Salvador and Michael walked outside Kain rushed the two, taking hold of Michaels hand again. “He wasnt mean to you was he? Dad or not I'll beat his ass if he was-”

Michael laughed softly and shook his head, lacing his fingers with Kains. “Not at all, it was a very polite interaction.”

With a soft sigh and a smile Michael then bowed slightly and kissed Kains hand, “I must take my leave now back to the cathedral. Stay safe on your journeys and never hesitate to send a letter or stop by for a chat.”

Kain blushed redder than he'd ever been and could only nod as he watched Michael begin to walk away. Salvador could be heard laughing loudly in the background, it drew some stares but Kain was too flustered to even care, or notice.

#angst #dnd #oc story #ocs #short story #fluff #gay #a sinners salvation

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