#trying to get back into writing and my brain just tells me to delete everything lol

[nancys-braids]

wip wednesday

thanks for the tag - @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @tellmegoodbye @paperstorm @heartstringsduet

@honeybee-taskforce @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo

@bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses @whatsintheboxmh @freneticfloetry @thisbuildinghasfeelings you’re all queued :)

It's been a month since the fire. It's been awkward. She didn’t want Marjan to ever leave, but she also didn’t want to overstep. Marjan was grieving the loss of her home, her identity, and her sense of safety. She pulls people out of burning buildings every day on the job but Nancy could tell it was different this time for Marjan. 

They shared a wall and she could hear everything. She woke up with every nightmare Marjan had. Nancy would sit up and contemplate going over to comfort her, but it wasn’t her place. They’re just roommates. Marjan agreed to live here because she needed somewhere to stay, not for any other reason, despite what Nancy may be feeling. She knew Marjan would never see her the same way, so she needed to get over her crush.

no pressure tagging: @captain-gillian @your-catfish-friend @literateowl @carlos-tk @fifthrideroftheapocalypse

@oldfangirl81 @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @pelorsdyke @americansrequiems

@sugdenlovesdingle @kiwichaeng + open tag!

lmk if anyone wants added or removed from my taglist for nancymarjan wips

[kalloway]

Are you ever gonna go back to writing jjba on ao3? Honestly I keep rereading all of them to this day and your writing is the best thing I’ve ever come across to.

Hey, Anon! I really appreciate that ur reading my fics even now (and re-reading, too??), honestly... way more than I can say <3 I wish I had a better answer for you though. I'd honestly love to go back to writing for JoJo, but my heart's really with OC stuff these days (oc x canon) and I, frankly... can't convince myself my ideas are worth writing even just for me. U know, perpetual battle against non-existent self esteem? hahaha I won't promise anything but DO know I think about it quite often, and I really miss being invested in JoJo like I used to be tbh! So again: the interest is extremely appreciated, I'm just sorry I can't give a more positive answer ^^;

[likeumeanit9497]

yale pt. 2 | c.s |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

read part one here!

summary: to commit or not to commit; what will chris and y/n decide? and how will they prove to one another that their mutual decision was the right one?

warnings: smut, oral (m/f receiving), hand stuff (m/f), p in v, unprotected sex (BAD), more fluff than i usually write, 18+

notes: again i'm sorry ab the wait but part two is finally finished! it's a bit longer than my past one shots (almost 6000 words eek) because there's a lottttt of fluff before the smut. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Two out of my three final exams were finished, and I was about ready to throw in the towel on my last one of the week. It was Thursday, and tomorrow was my Biology II final, which had been the one that had been stressing me out the most. As soon as I had got back to my small one-bedroom apartment that day, I had buried my nose in my textbooks in an attempt at cramming some last-minute miracle study session into my day.

That was around 3:00, and as I walked into my kitchen to make myself my fourth cup of coffee for the day, the clock on my stove read 9:26. I wanted to cry from exhaustion. Yale finals were no joke, and I had to do well on all of my exams in order to keep my scholarship for next year. On top of the stress caused by all of that, I was having an even more difficult time because my brain had been consumed by something else. Every moment of every day — whether I was trying to get some rest at night or trying to focus on answering the questions correctly on an exam — I was thinking about the last time I had seen Chris.

It had been less than a week, but my mind had replayed every moment of our time together so many times that it had begun feeling like a dream. That, in addition to the lack of proper rest I had been getting, had made me genuinely begin to question whether or not I had imagined everything that he had said before I ran out on him.

I hadn’t heard anything from Chris since then, which really wasn’t that uncommon. We typically only texted when I was back in Boston and we could meet up, and he knew that I would be busy with my finals this week and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But regardless of how usual the lack of communication was, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a mutual tension between us even from miles away; and the shortage of interactions between us just felt like confirmation of that.

Since the last time we spoke, I had felt nearly every emotion possible regarding the situation. Guilty, happy, sad, angry, hurt, disappointed, excited, and confused. Very, very confused. There had been so many times where, as I was studying, or showering, or walking to class, I became completely consumed by the urge to text him; sometimes with the intention of telling him that I feel the same way about him as he does about me, other times my intentions were to cuss him out for making the one thing that was easy in my life so complicated. But every time I opened my phone and began typing out a message to him, I got ahold of myself and would hurriedly delete the paragraph.

Frustrated and lost in my own mind once again, I leaned onto the kitchen counter and rested my forehead against my crossed arms. The last thing that I wanted to do was go back to my desk and continue studying, but I knew that I needed to spend at least a few more hours on it if I wanted to secure at least a 90%. But my eyes were beginning to grow heavy, and the cool sensation that came from leaning on my counter was helping me calm down. Maybe I could stay here and collect my thoughts for just a few more minutes…

Four loud knocks at my front door caused my eyes to shoot open. I felt disoriented as I took a moment to take in my surroundings, glancing quickly at the clock I realized that I must have somehow dozed off in my position at the counter. Three more knocks rumbled through my small apartment, these ones more urgent than the last. As my brain finally woke up completely, I was hit with a mini wave of rage. Brad was in the same Biology II class as I was. He must be trying to study for the exam super last minute, and when he realized that he hadn’t even started taking study notes, he decided to show up unannounced at my place to get his hands on mine. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

I stormed toward my front door, beside myself in fury and stress. As I unlocked the door and began turning the handle, I opened my mouth to begin my crazed rant.

“Brad I swear to God I’m not-” My mouth clamped shut and I froze once the door was completely open and the identity of the person on the other side was shown.

“Hi.” Was all he said, his voice tentative and wavering slightly. His bright blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, his slouched shoulders were covered in a light dusting of snow, and held by his hands in the space between us was a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Chris.” His name fell breathlessly from my lips, and I immediately walked toward him and embraced him in a relieving hug. I felt both of our bodies relax as soon as they connected, and we stood in my doorway for what could have been hours; both of us taking a moment to relish in the comfort that came from us finally seeing one another. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, pulling back from him and taking a good look at his beautiful face. He shifted on his feet before responding, “I just needed to see you.”

His body language showed that he was feeling incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to do everything I could to reassure him, but not yet; it was too soon. So instead, I guided him into my apartment and closed the door behind us.

“So,” I began as he stood awkwardly in my kitchen, “Have you just decided to start carrying those around as some sort of fashion statement or what?” I gestured towards the flowers still gripped firmly in his hand. He blinked quickly before looking down at them as if he had forgotten they were there, and nervously giggled. “No. Uh, I brought these for you?” His voice rose at the end of his sentence, making it sound like a question and I let out a small laugh before gently removing them from his grasp. “I was joking, thank you for these. Sunflowers are my favourite.” I replied before turning my back to him to search through my kitchen cabinets for a vase. “I know they are.” He said in a quiet voice, and I turned back to look at him quickly.

“How’d you know that?” I kept my tone light, partially because I felt like it might make him more comfortable and partially to keep my nerves at bay. “Your lock screen on your phone. It’s of you and your friends in a sunflower field. I asked you about the picture that first time we met when you went to put my number in your phone and you told me that they were your all-time favourite flower, even though you thought they were a bit cliche.” He explained all of this to me while looking down at his feet, and I felt a ripple of shock travel down my spine. How did he remember that seemingly mundane part of our very first interaction, eight months ago?

I cleared my throat as I felt my emotions begin to get the best of me, and finally found a vase hidden deep in one of my cabinets. “Well I do love them,” I finally responded once I regained control over myself, “And look at how beautiful they are! The brighten up my entire kitchen.” I showed him the bouquet, now tucked into their vase, and felt my heart flutter at their vibrancy. “Thank you so much, Chris. I mean it.” I walked over to where he was standing beside my kitchen island, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I playfully brushed my nose against his a few times, before planting a light kiss on his lips. “You have a very good memory.” I added, before moving my lips to his jaw, down to his neck; leaving wet thank-you kisses along the way. His breath hitched once I reached his collarbone, where I spent extra time suckling his delicate skin.

I brought a hand down to his jeans, where I palmed at his semi-hard member. His hands stayed still at his sides, but I could feel his increasing pulse against my lips as I moved them painfully slow back up to his. When my lips made it back to his, I pressed my body against him in an attempt at deepening our movements. His hands finally moved to grab onto my waist, giving me a moment of satisfaction, before he used his new grip to pull me away slightly. “Y/n, wait,” He started, his gaze fixed on me, “I’ve really been needing to talk about last weekend.” My stomach sunk as I began to feel the too-familiar pit of anxiety that had been haunting me for days grow once more. Not wanting him to pick up on how terrified I was to have this conversation, I planted a faux smile on my face and gave him a quick nod. “Me too. Let’s sit.” I replied before walking over to my couch.

“So…” I began once we were both seated on the couch facing each other. Even though I had spent days mulling over every detail of what I might possibly say to Chris once this inevitable conversation happened, I really had no idea how to go about this. And by the unusual silence and bouncing leg coming from Chris’s side of the couch, it was pretty evident that he didn’t know how to either.

“I thought we had agreed that this conversation wouldn’t happen until after I had written all of my finals.” I finally got the courage to speak first, before immediately noticing that my tone came across pretty passive aggressive. “I just mean — sorry, Chris. I’ve just been really stressed out.” I attempted to correct my first sentence once I noticed that his face was riddled with anxiety. Placing a soft hand on his forearm, I continued, “I just mean I’ve been really needing to talk to you, too.” A nervous smile flashed across his face at my words, and I watched as he took a deep breath. “You have?” His tone sounded unsure, and I nodded firmly. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” I added, slightly embarrassed by my own admission. “Neither have I.” He added, turning his body slightly so he can face me better.

“I know I told you that I would wait until after you were finished your exams, and I really tried. But I’ve been going crazy these past few days and I really couldn’t wait anymore. I’m sorry.” He confessed, and I scooted closer to his place on the couch. “Don’t be. Trust me, I’ve felt so crazy these past few days too. I’ve gone through every possible emotion whenever I thought about the whole situation, it’s like I can’t get control over my mind. It’s been hell.” I reassured him with the truth.

“Well, how are you feeling about the whole thing?” He asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of my answer. I allowed myself to contemplate for a few moments before answering, so that I could say the right thing. “Well, at first I was scared. It was just so out of the blue Chris, and my brain couldn’t process it all.” I watched him watch me as I spoke, “Then, I felt really angry. I was so mad that after all of this time you decided to drop that bomb of a confession right before I had to start my most stressful week of the year. That, along with the simple fact that I am in a relationship, no matter how toxic, and you went and made things even more complicated.” His gaze dropped to the dead space between us, clearly having a difficult time hearing how upset I had been.

“But,” His eyes met mine again as I continued, “I almost felt relieved? Like, it kind of felt like this was how it was always supposed to end up, if that makes sense. It was like some part of me knew that the universe was planning something like this to happen in a way, and that all of our sneaking around was just the build up.” I felt my heart in my throat as I spoke of feelings that I hadn’t even known I was feeling before; shocked by my own confession. By the expression on his face, I could tell that he was just as confused.

“Wait, what?” Said Chris, his eyes widening slightly. I stared back at him in silence, terrified that I might have said too much and gotten this whole thing wrong. Oh God, what if he came here to back out of what he had said last week? What if his jealousy had just overpowered him in the moment, and he was here to backtrack. Even more, what if he was here to end things between us completely? I began to feel myself panic at all of the thoughts flying through my head at rapid speed, before he finally spoke.

“Are you — are you saying that you might want this too?” Chris asked, his voice one of hesitant optimism. Immediately, I felt my initial wave of dread vanish and a new, almost excited anxiety take its place. I bent forward, resting my arms on my knees, and groaned into my hands at the feeling. “I…do.” I finally said, my voice muffled by the concealment of my face behind my fingers.

The room stayed silent for what felt like forever, my last words sat heavy in the air between us. I was so anxious I couldn’t bear to look anywhere, so I scrunched my eyes tightly shut and made every attempt at calming my nerves.

“Come here.”

Chris’s voice was so soft and calm — a refreshing contrast to the racing thoughts in my own mind — that it caused my eyes to snap open and fall on him. He still looked a bit nervous, but the genuine smile that shone across his face allowed me to release the deep breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. I scooted even closer to him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me. With my head tucked into his neck, I breathed him in; allowing my nervous system a moment to relax.

“We’re really doing this then?” I finally asked as he rubbed gentle circles on my back. He let out a soft chuckle. “Looks like it.” I pulled away from his embrace and brushed his hair out of his beautiful face. “I’m gonna have to end things with Brad tomorrow after our Biology final.” I sighed, dreading the inevitable conversation that was I was sure would be made more difficult by Brad and his disrespect. However, Chris’s pleased expression brought me some joy, because at the end of the day he was who I really wanted.

Feeling like I was on cloud nine, I wrapped my arms around Chris’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Right as my lips barely grazed his, however, he mumbled something and pulled back. “No,” he began, shaking his head firmly. “We gotta do this right. Things are different now and we’re not just sneaking around, so it feels wrong to just kiss you behind everyone’s back like we had to before. Take your exam, have a conversation with Brad, and then we can start from the beginning.”

My jaw physically dropped, shocked at the maturity of Chris’s words. I wish he wasn’t but I knew that he was right. Now that we were headed in the direction of something more serious, it would be so much more meaningful to wait until all of the wrinkles of our situation had been ironed out. I gave him a smile and nodded softly, letting him know that he was right.

“So, how did you get here?” I asked, stretching my arms behind my head to work the kinks out of my sore back. “Matt dropped me off. I had to offer to do the laundry for a full month for it though.” I laughed at his response, but was also touched by the idea as I knew that Chris despised laundry more than anything. “Jesus, no kidding, that’s a long drive just to turn right back around and go back to Boston.”

“Well, no. He should still be downstairs. I told him to wait outside for a while just in case things didn’t go so well up here.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly at this fact, but I understood what he meant. “Well, if you want you can tell him to head back and you can spend the night here. I was already planning on heading back home tomorrow night so I can just take you with me.” I offered, glancing quickly at him through my eyelashes as I did to gauge his reaction. Immediately, a smile flashed across his face and he shot up from the couch as if he had been hoping I would say that. “I’m down. Let me just run to his car and grab by duffel bag.” I laughed at his reaction, and the fact that he had clearly intended on staying the night if he played his cards right.

Before walking to the door, he leaned over my figure and planted a quick kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be right back. Maybe once I grab my stuff I can quiz you for your exam or some shit. Don’t want you to not be prepared tomorrow just because I’m here.” My heard fluttered from the sensation of his lips on my skin in combination with his thoughtful words, and I had to fight the urge to pull his face to mine. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Once I finally made it back to my apartment, I slammed the front door shut and slid against it down to the floor. I ran my hands through my snow-covered hair as I tried to catch my breath and wrap my head around what I had just done.

I finally broke up with Brad.

As suspected, he didn’t take it well. To be honest, it had been a bad choice of mine to do it as we were walking towards the exit of the exam building, but I hadn’t expected him to break down into tears and get down on his knees in front of countless other students and professors, begging me to reconsider. I could still hear the echos of his wails as I literally ran away through the double exit doors of the building, and I continued to run as fast as I could until I reached the lobby of my apartment complex.

And now here I was, feeling everything all at once and trying to make sense of all that has happened over the past twenty four hours. As I mulled through everything, the sound of my shower turning on caught my attention. In all of my stress from writing my exam to breaking up with Brad, I had nearly forgotten what all of it was for.

Chris.

I stood up and slowly walked towards the bathroom. Putting my ear against the door, I smiled as I listened to him quietly sing along to a Ken Carson song playing from his phone as he showered. Checking the door knob, I realized that he had left it unlocked and I decided to enter the humid washroom. The room had already begun to fill up with steam, but I could still see Chris’s back through the glass shower door. He was facing away from me, and the music was loud so he clearly had no clue that I was there.

Quickly and quietly, I began to take off my clothes from the day; keeping my eyes on him the entire time to make sure he still hadn’t noticed my presence. Once fully unclothed, I took my hair out of my messy bun and began walking towards the shower. Standing at the glass now, I brought my knuckles against the cool surface and gently knocked.

At my knocking, Chris’s body jolted and he quickly turned his body to face me. When he saw that it was just me standing there, his body visibly relaxed and a smile crossed his lips. “Hey.” He said as his eyes travelled across my naked body. “Hey.” I returned as I opened the shower door and began climbing in. I stood in front of his naked figure, the stream of water from the shower head beginning to mist my hair.

“Did you talk to him?” Asked Chris, his eyes searching my face; clearly trying to gauge my expression. I tilted my head to the side and smirked slightly. “I did.” He continued to just stare, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. “I ended it.” I added, causing a smile to immediately cross his face. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Chris asked as he brought his hands to my hips, pulling my body towards him directly under the shower head. Now getting completely rained on, I squeezed my eyes shut and chuckled. “What, you getting cold feet already kid?” I asked jokingly, opening my eyes to look at him and standing on my tip toes so that I could bring my face closer to his.

“No, obviously not, it’s just,” He paused when I brushed my wet lips against his softly, before whispering, “It’s just a bit scary.” I brought my hands to the back of his head, where I mindlessly twirled my fingers through his curls. “What’s scary?” My hushed tone now matched his as I spoke. “I’ve just never been in a relationship before, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I’m really really out of my realm here Y/n.” He confessed, his tone somber and his eyes fearful.

I grabbed my bottom lip with my teeth, completely understanding what he was saying but not wanting to unintentionally confirm his fears by agreeing. So instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him against me. After a moment of relishing in the feeling of his skin pressed firmly against mine, feeling our hearts beat as one, I spoke.

“Let me show you that you don’t need to be scared of anything.” I gazed up at him as he looked down at me, and after a short while he nodded his head. Rubbing his back delicately, I spoke. “Things aren’t going to be much different, you know,” I began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, “Sure we won’t be sneaking around,” More kisses along his shoulder, “And there will be a certain level of accountability and loyalty that wasn’t there before,” My mouth moved to his jaw, “But those are all good things because,” Finally, my lips were hovering in front of his, so close to touching that I could feel his anxious breath against them.

“They mean that I’m all yours.”

At that, Chris crashed his lips against mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue swirled against mine. I gasped as Chris suddenly pressed my back against the cool tiled wall where he continued to dominate my mouth. I felt his quickly growing member press against my hip, and reached forward to begin stroking it slowly. A soft moan fell from his mouth, and I began to move my hand up and down quicker along his hard shaft. He bucked his hips slightly at the sensation, and moved his lips to leave deep kisses along my neck, down to my nipples. He gave my left nipple one long drag with his tongue before engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. He sucked hard and bit tenderly on the tip of my nipple the way he knew I liked, and I couldn’t help but release a small whine at the building need in between my legs.

“Let me make you feel good.” Chris mumbled against my tit, grabbing my ass firmly with both hands. “Me first.” I replied, a smirk on my face with his cock still tight in my grasp. Slowly, I dropped to my knees on the shower floor and was face to face with his swollen cock. Gazing at me as water dripped down his entire body, Chris watched as I placed my lips around his red tip; swirling my tongue to lap up the salty pre cum that had begun to drip from his slit. I watched his erotic expressions as his body shuddered from the sensation, and slowly began bobbing my head up and down the length of his cock. I began pumping my hand along his last few inches that I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and had to stifle my own anticipatory moan from how turned on I had made myself just by knowing that it was my mouth that was allowing him to feel this pleasure.

Not being able to take the painfully aroused state I was in, I brought my free hand between my own legs; gently massaging my own clit to relieve just a bit of the tension. The immediate satisfaction caused me to moan on Chris’s cock, which in turn caused him to press his hand against the shower wall to support his weakened frame. As he watched me pleasure both of us, his jaw slacked and his eyes glazed over with pure lust. I continued to vigorously bob my head, though I was beginning to get distracted by my own heightened arousal as my fingers maintained their pressure on my swollen clit. As tears welled in my eyes I swallowed the entire length of his shaft and began deep throating him, watching his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his free hand moved to grab my hair.

“Fuck baby, I might cum.” His words came out gravelly through his bright pink lips, and I hummed in response as I continued to swirl my tongue around the base of his dick. Suddenly, Chris released a throaty moan before pulling his hips back and detaching my lips from his member with a pop. Instinctually, I tilted my head up and opened my mouth; sticking my tongue out with a slight smirk. I watched as Chris pumped his cock with his own hand a few times before his warm fluid coated my expectant face. I quickly swallowed the few drops that had landed in my mouth, and smiled softly up at Chris as he watched. He brought his thumb to my lower lip and swiped delicately; collecting a drop of his cum that had landed there before placing it on my tongue. Tauntingly, I closed my lips around his thumb and sucked it gently as his breath hitched.

He took his thumb out of my mouth and helped me to my feet. Wrapping an arm around the small of my back, he guided me directly under the stream of water before tilting my head back so that his seed could wash off of my face. After a moment, he pulled me back out of the water and pressed me into his chest. His hands travelled across my back and down to my ass, where he began massaging softly. As he massaged, the tips of his fingers grazed my slit from the back and I began to feel the urgent need to be touched. I nibbled at his skin and subconsciously arched my back in an attempt to give his hands better access to where I needed them most.

He ran a finger through my slick folds and my heart rate quickened against his chest. “You think you can manage to go again?” I breathed as he continued to tease me. I felt his body shift slightly as he chuckled. “Yup. Just give me a minute.” The words barely left his mouth before he dropped to his knees and backed my body up against the wall in one swift motion. Before I had a moment to process anything, his mouth connected to my bundle of nerves. To grant himself easier access, he grabbed my right leg and put it over his shoulder as I moaned out at the sensation that the new angle provided. His mouth moved rhythmically as his tongue swirled around my clit in the way that he knows drives me crazy, and I already began to feel the early whispers of an orgasm in my lower stomach.

After a few moments of bliss, my body was suddenly jolted into reality when he removed his lips from me and stood up. Keeping me pinned to the wall, he attacked my mouth with his own. Deep and carelessly, our lips moved in sync with one another as Chris simultaneously hooked my leg around his hip to press his body even closer to mine. Suddenly, our kiss was cut off by my open-mouthed gasp as Chris slammed his cock deep into my core. Without giving me a moment to adjust to his size, he began driving into me with quick strokes. I struggled to continue to stand — both because of the slippery shower and the velocity of his movements — so I dug my nails into his back for grip; sure to leave deep scratches by the time we were finished.

“Fuck Chris, you’re so big.” I moaned out, feeling my core stretch out with each of his thrusts. “Oh come on baby, you can take it.” His tone was mocking, but it came out breathless as he relentlessly pummelled into me.

His face was pressed against mine, and my view of his feverish gaze and tightened jaw was interrupted periodically only by his sloppy kisses along my jaw. As his pace began to grow more careless, my vision began to grow blurry from my approaching orgasm. “Chris, please keep going I’m so close.” I begged, fearful that his second orgasm would come quicker than my first.

He brought his hand to my throat and squeezed it delicately, his eyes on mine. “I’ll wait for you, princess. Want to cum with you.” His hand moved from my throat down to my clit, where he began rubbing it fiercely. The additional contact from him instantly sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was going to reach my climax. “C-chris, I’m — oh God I’m cumming.” I practically screamed as the wave of overwhelming pleasure hit me. As my walls pulsed erratically around his cock, Chris released a raspy moan — a clear indicator that he had also reached his own orgasm. His movements slowed tremendously as we both rode out our highs; both of our fluids and slurred profanities in harmony with one another.

Chris’s hips stopped moving completely as we both leaned our heads against the shower wall, catching our breath. His hand that had previously been on my clit was now resting on my inner thigh where it was thoughtlessly rubbing up and down my soft skin. The thick steam in the shower was making it even harder for me to catch my breath, so I turned the temperature down before stepping under the stream of water to begin cooling myself down. Chris followed suit, and squeezed some shampoo into his hand before lathering my hair with it. Humming at the relaxing feeling of his hands massaging my scalp, I leaned back against his firm chest.

“See, at least you know that part of our relationship didn’t change.” I said jokingly as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. “No, it definitely did.” He responded, and I froze. Once again I was worried that he had changed his mind; that maybe he thought the sex might start to be boring, or that sex with emotion was too sappy. Just as those insecurities began to rear their head, Chris’s eyes softened with a big smile as he pulled me towards him. “It got even better.” I felt my body relax in his arms at those words, and I beamed up at him. “I agree.” I pressed a soft kiss to his collar bone.

“Now let’s hurry up, I want to get back to Boston before it gets dark out.” I said as I hurriedly lathered by body with shower gel. Chris moved from his place under the shower head to give me space to wash off before exiting the shower. “Stay at mine tonight? We can watch Christmas movies!” He exclaimed as he grabbed a towel to dry off. I rolled my eyes with a smile. “You’re such a cornball. But unfortunately I think I might be too because that sounds great.” He giggled at this before poking his head back into the shower to plant a kiss on my nose. “I’m really happy we’re doing this.”

“Doing what? Getting excited over watching Christmas movies?” I asked with a chuckle. “No — well, yes. But no. I meant I’m — I’m really happy you’re all mine now.” His words made me melt a little inside, and I brought an affectionate hand to his jaw and brushed my thumb against it. I took a moment to really admire his perfect features — in awe of my current reality where a man as beautiful as him could feel the way he does about me— before responding, “Me too, Chris. I’m happy I’m all yours too.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

taglist:

@chrattstromboli @sncstur

[tofupixel]

adding on, i really do apologize. reading back i can tell i didn't reiterate enough that the actual work still matters more than anything.

im trying to take this from a place of good faith. it just irks me because i have seen so, so many people who believe they are incapable of art, their brain works too scientifically, some kind of disability that prevents them, and they managed to figure it out in their own way. i also can't see items in my head in 3d (i can see a little but not much) and it never stopped me, but i know some of my friends who also cant at all, and it bothers them greatly.

i don't know you or what you're going through but in my experience some people put pressures on themselves to do things a certain way, but when we are different, we have to find our own way forward.

in the end, who are you racing against? you need to go at your own pace, it doesnt matter if someone gets there faster than you. i know it can be hard to see others succeeding where you struggle, but the only way to actually fail is to give up. it doesnt matter how slow you go as long as you are making something and expressing yourself. try not to focus on the result so much.

whether or not that time investment is worth it to you is another discussion for sure.

sorry for snapping at you. after i just spent 6 hours writing that guide, seeing the first response be something negative actually just pissed me the fuck off. it was like why even bother, i just wanted to delete it tbh

edit: and FWIW the reason i had such fast progress is because i had nothing else to do. i lost my job in 2020 and i would just go homeless and die if i didnt make it work. ive done A LOT of pixel art, more than anybody should reasonably be expected to do, and im speaking from experience.

there is such a thing as quality of practise for sure, but i do believe that time beats everything. i'm not saying it to virtue signal like i think you were implying. someone being slightly more naturally gifted than me has no bearing on my life whatsoever.

[alicerosejensen]

I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.

If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️

I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.

I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.

There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.

Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.

the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.

If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.

Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.

Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…

Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.

In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.

Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.

This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.

no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.

You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.

But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"

He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.

For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.

You really didn't give him a chance.

The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.

He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.

You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.

“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”

Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.

You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.

On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.

Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.

“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.

Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.

You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (6)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: threats, angst, mention a toxic relationship ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood!

Story Music Playlist

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Never before in her life had she missed a class for any reason other than illness, bad form or some important trip. As it turned out, so had he. They went into a shop to buy something to drink and sat on a bench in a nearby park, watching people walking around.

She felt that he wanted to tell her something, felt that all this was not without reason.

He grunted after a long moment, opening his can of Coke with a loud pssst, he didn't look at her.

"She doesn't want to give me a break. She keeps texting me and calling me even though I don't answer. She's totally fucking out of her mind." He grinned, taking a deep sip of his drink, she heard the hiss of bubbles inside the can. He wasn't looking at her, just ahead.

She wondered what he wanted to hear.

Friendly advice?

"Why did you two break up?" She asked straight out, deciding there was no point in wrapping her mind around it.

He was silent for a long moment.

"Because she was praising me to the skies one time and humiliating me the next. She made fucking shit out of my brain. If it wasn't for Helaena I'd probably still be in it." He muttered, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the passers-by.

She blinked, pressing her lips together, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was trying to open up to her, trying to let her understand.

To be honest with her.

"Do you want to see?" He asked suddenly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his black sweatshirt, taking another loud sip from his can in the meantime. She looked at him surprised, unable to believe that he really wanted to show her their private messages.

"I've got some interesting screenshots from a few months back." He muttered, leaning back and moving towards her so that their shoulders touched, showing her his display, scrolling slowly through the next messages with his finger so that she had time to read them.

"She had a habit of deleting messages like that afterwards, so I started saving them to remind myself when I missed her what she really thought of me." He chuckled, locking his phone again, tucking it into his pocket.

She felt her heart pounding hard, felt some kind of discomfort and pain.

"How long did it last?" She asked uncertainly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He pressed his lips together, taking another deep sip from his can.

She remembered she had her juice and opened the wrapper to take out her straw, then stuck it in the carton and began to drink with a loud slurping sound.

He shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn't believe it himself.

"Two years. I've broken up with her a couple of times, but in all seriousness it was only a month ago. A fresh case." He muttered lowly, sipping the rest of the Coke he had in the can and crumpled it up, tossing it into the dumpster standing next to his bench.

A month ago.

When Aegon organised a house party.

She lowered her gaze, tightening her lips, hesitating to ask him the question that was pressing on her lips.

She decided she had to know.

"Why did you want me to stay in the room with you then?" She asked in a trembling voice and felt him cast her a quick, surprised glance. He grunted loudly, clearly embarrassed by this memory and scratched his cheek, licking his lips.

"I don't know. I…it just felt good with you, you know. So…tenderly." She muttered, tracing his fingers across his forehead, his head tilted, he was unable to look at her.

Tenderly.

"Do you regret it?" She asked in a tired voice, and he gave her a quick glance.

"What? I… fuck. No. It was one of the more pleasant things that's happened to me in recent times. So… innocent. The kind that when I think back on it, it makes my heart warmer." He confessed with shame, and she lowered her gaze, looking down at her blue orange juice carton, fiddling with it in her hands.

"I don't regret it either."

They said nothing more.

They went back to school for the last few hours and pretended nothing had happened. Driving home from school they listened to music together again on her earphones, sitting with their eyes closed. She saw his display light up from time to time, that his ex-girlfriend kept sending him new messages, desperate. He didn't even read them.

She asked him why he didn't just block her number, but he said he had done that before and then she simply buys a new card. According to her, he was just upset with her and was teasing her, pretending to be interested in someone else to make her jealous because she couldn't imagine that it was possible to stop loving her.

She thought with regret that she had found herself an easy target, a high school student, quiet and closed off, with complexes, who would never share with anyone else what harm she was doing to him and how she was slowly destroying his self-esteem, manipulating him and making him dependent on her.

They said their goodbyes and parted ways to their homes, however, she felt that something had snapped between them and even though she continued to feel uncomfortable and sad, she thought that this time he really took it seriously, that he really wanted to try.

Whatever that meant.

She recognised that they both needed a lot of space and that what they had now suited her.

She didn't hide her surprise when he called her in the evening when she was already lying in bed, preparing for a maths test. She answered with her heart beating hard, wondering what it could have been about, whether he wanted to wish her goodnight.

"She was recording us." He said as soon as she picked up, not even giving her a chance to say hello, despair in his voice, she felt like he was almost crying. She swallowed loudly, feeling a tightness in her throat.

"What do you mean?" She asked, lifting herself up on the bed to sit down, concerned.

"How do we…how do we…I…you know. God." He mumbled in a breaking voice and drew in the air loudly, breathing unevenly. "She's threatening to send this to the school principal if I don't come back to her. To our friends. She sent me one video to show me she's not bluffing. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

She pressed her lips together feeling the cold sweat on the back of her neck, her heart pounding like crazy, the seriousness and awfulness of this situation hitting her so hard that she didn't know what to say, what to do.

Of course he couldn't tell his parents or siblings about it.

"I… God, do you want to meet? M-maybe, maybe we can work something out." She mumbled with difficulty, not knowing what else to suggest, how to help him.

"Yes… yes, if you can, please, I can't stand being at home now."

She quickly dressed a warm sweatshirt over her pyjamas and told her parents that she would go out to talk to Helaena for a while.

She left her house and ran across the street with her trainers on her feet, he was standing far from his house, she saw to her shock that he was smoking a cigarette, his one leg moving in a nervous tic.

He was terrified.

She approached him and he threw her a quick, heartbroken look. He chuckled under his breath, rubbing the tip of his nose with the back of his hand.

"I know what you're thinking. I got what I deserved." He muttered in a trembling, low voice, and she shook her head in disbelief.

"What are you babbling about? Don't you have something on her? I don't know, can't you send her the screenshots you have, the ones where she humiliates you and say you'll send them to her friends too? Don't you have any naked pictures of her that you can scare her with?" She asked, speaking quickly, thinking intensely about what solutions he had. He shook his head.

"I deleted everything a month ago, I didn't want to go back to it, and she herself deleted everything from our chats that might be saved somewhere on the internet. Like she fucking planned it." He grinned under his breath in despair and took a drag on his cigarette looking sideways, his eyebrows arched in anguish, despair and regret, a single tear running down his cheek.

"A cyclops and a pervert. Fuck, that's what I needed. Why did I get involved in this." He uttered in a breaking voice, running his free hand over his face, all red.

She walked over to him and stroked his shoulder, looking at him with distress mixed with understanding.

"Come here." She said softly, and he sank into her arms as if without strength, snuggling his face into her neck, embracing her loosely, and cried aloud, her hands stroking his hair and back with tenderness.

"It's not your fault. You trusted her and she took advantage of you. What she's doing now is monstrous and she has no right to do it. You are not to blame." She said and kissed the side of his head softly, his free hand clamped down on her blouse, she felt that her neck was all wet from his tears.

"I'm so fucking scared. I'm frightened that my parents will see this." He whimpered like a small child with a shuddering breath, and she hugged him tighter, trying to embrace his large figure, to give him the shelter in her arms he so desperately needed.

Her heart was breaking.

"I know, I'm with you. We'll figure something out in a moment." She whispered, stroking his head and back reassuringly and felt his lips place a gentle kiss on the skin of her neck. She felt a warmth in her lower abdomen and a pleasant tickle between her thighs.

They stood like that for a moment until he calmed down, and then they sat on the pavement, their knees and shoulders touching. She slapped her hand on his thigh, getting a sudden idea.

"I know! Write her that if she sends this out, you will report with the same video to the rector of her university that she forced you to have sex before you were of the age of consent. You can go to jail for that!"

He looked at her shocked, tightening his lips, thinking strenuously, hesitant, terrified and uncertain.

"But…it's not true."

"How does it matter? She threatens you, so you threaten her! Clearly there is a big age difference between you, what she was doing was just plain grooming. Knowing that you were in high school when she videotaped it and on top of that you were younger than you are now, the police would certainly have taken an interest. Maybe you would have lost your dignity, but she has a lot more to lose. This will make her loathe sending anything anywhere!" She said with conviction, saw him lick his dry lips with his tongue, that he was increasingly convinced of her idea.

"Okay. Then what should I write her?"

She sat next to him looking at the screen of his phone telling him aloud what she thought he should write to sound as confident as possible, when they finished he swallowed loudly and clicked 'send'. They saw that she had read the message immediately and saw surprised as a wave of messages started to come in from her.

They looked at it in silence breathing loudly. She heard him swallow with difficulty, tense.

"Do you think she'll send it?" He asked in a trembling voice.

"No. She is shitting herself with fear."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[furiousgoldfish]

(tw mention of suicidal thoughts)

Alright so I am writing this because I can't find anyone to talk to, and my brain is letting me know that I need to talk about it somewhere.

I am falling depressed, and I'm unsure if it's genuine depression, or some sort of deep grief that is just feeling very similar. And I've already looked up what you're supposed to do if you're trying to break out of depression; I am sleeping full 8 hours on a regular sleep schedule, I shower regularly, I do my best to eat regular meals (sometimes it doesn't happen due to lack of energy), if I have any energy left in me, I take a little walk, I pay attention to my surroundings. I do my best to answer messages and to socialize, even superficially, with the people I see.

However, despite me doing all that, the deep feeling of sadness is persevering, in fact it gets worse after my walks, I end up going home in worse feeling of dread than before.

I was going to keep trying to break out of it, and then today something bad and triggering happened, and my mind just went very dark. Like what is even the point anymore? I started considering if anyone around me would be impacted by my suicide. And then just tried to dissociate from the bad thing that happened, tried to create reality in which it didn't. Like I could ignore it out of existence. Like maybe if I just curl up over there and never look at anything ever again, maybe then bad things would go away.

I tried to comfort myself thinking I could, at least, tell people around me and see if anyone would say anything kind or helpful, but people around me did not care at all, would go on about their troubles instead and looked at me like I was weirdo for complaining. Which again, made me feel like talking to people was the worst idea ever and like I was dumb for even engaging, I should have known I'm alone in this.

So now I'm back to sinking down in my grief, occasionally getting numb from it and sinking again. I had periods, years of grief in the past, and it just feels like you're slowly dying, right, and it doesn't stop and it feels suffocating and like you'd do anything for it to stop. But also in the past, I knew what I was grieving; it was the loss of my delusion of family, loss of hope that I will have family members who are in any way safe for me, loss of security and safety that comes with family, acknowledgment that I was abandoned and left with predators for the most of my life. I thought I was done grieving about all that, because for a while I just didn't think about it, and it didn't bother me. I don't think that's what I'm grieving now.

It's actually hard to pinpoint it, because my memories are mostly gone, but I think it's the loss of friendships in my life. I've tried hard to build connections with other people, even as scared and reluctant I was feeling about it, but it always fell trough, and left me feeling with less hope. The ends of friendships were so traumatic for me, that my memories of the entire friendships got deleted. And I can tell right now that hearing anything about people having friends, spending time together and helping each other, that usually sets my grief off, and causes me to start crying regardless of where I am. I tried to recall my past memories of friendships, but all I get back are things I never want to feel or live trough again. Every memory feels like enough reason never to interact with a person again, all of them cut so deep I have to dissociate from them right away.

And basically I don't know what to do. I am losing every bit of my willpower or energy to do anything. Even with my best efforts to stay upright, to interact with my environment and go to walks, I'm only out of bed while I'm working. And I'm randomly bursting into tears and collapsing while I'm doing my job. I am messing up basic tasks. There isn't any activity that isn't exhausting. And everything I cared about feels like nothing to me. I can't even imagine a future, which is usually what I did to pull myself out of bad moods, I would imagine a future where I had a home of my own, and security that I would be able to survive there without having to fight for my life. Now it feels like even if I had that, I would just still want to die.

I've been slowly falling into this place for months, but it is more real today than at any time before. I've put so much effort not to end up feeling like this but... it only makes me more sad to know I'm in this mess anyway. I don't know what to do. I've tried interacting with people, I've tried befriending people, every new interaction feels like it's going to drown me further.

[l0vergirlv0mit]

Before Today

Inspired by: Before Today by Everything But The Girl

Pairing: college!Hazel Callahan X reader

Summary: You just can’t get over your ex and frequently confide in your best friend Isabel. This leads her to pulls some strings to try and make her best friend happy again…

Warnings: 18+ mdni, kinda toxic!reader (if you squint), breaking up, fingering, oral r!reciving,

Authors notes: first time writing so it prob sucks. It was super fun to write though. Thanks for reading <3

3 months. That’s how long it’s been since the start of you and Hazels no contact agreement. You decided you couldn’t be her friend after your break up. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being her friend and watching her give her attention to another girl. You wanted the feelings to go away but they never did.

But now you stare at your phone feeling your whole body go numb with fear. Your finger lingers over the unblock button.

You still haven’t been able to get over the way her hands felt when she’d hold your face and call you pretty. The way her laugh rang in your ears when you made a joke sending a wave of pride to your chest .The way her lips felt on your neck, whispering how much she wanted you.

You had to set your phone down to slow your breathing, your eyes filled with tears. Thinking back to when it all fell apart. It was completely your fault.

You couldn’t stop the self destructive chain of events that night. You had a fight that completely blew up in your face. You were looking for a fight wanting to give reason to the emotions you were feeling. You had been upset over reason outside of your relationship and just couldn’t let yourself be happy.

—

“Are you seriously bringing this up again.” Hazel looked at you with no expression she was tired, very tired, leaned over the counter with her face in her hands. “Well yeah I mean you flirted with her in front of my fucking face HAZEL. Like am I just supposed to get over that.” Your tone full of venom. “I told you a million fucking times I wasn’t flirting with her I was ACTUALLY politely telling her I have a girlfriend. So yeah get the fuck over it.” She replies your eyebrows furrow. “Ohhh yeah that’s why you we’re laughing at everything she said, should’ve twirled your hair and kicked your feet while you were at it.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up walking over to you. She got within a couple inches of your face looking down at you slightly. “What’s your goal here huh?” She spoke in a soft deep voice. “Is this your fucked up way of pushing me away? You don’t wanna be with me?” She bumps your chest with her finger and it makes you unbelievably angry.

“Maybe I don’t.” You didn’t even mean it but it was too late to take it back. Without another word she picked up her jacket she left on your settee and ran out of the door. Slamming it so hard the wall shook.

—

You had met up to talk about the fight the day after it had happened deciding it was best to put the relationship on “pause”. Trying to keep it as civil as possible given your mutual friends and inability to hate her.

You had heard about her going out with girl after girl from Isabel. You knew it was her way to fill the void you tried doing the same at the start but got to frustrated deciding on studying 24/7 instead.

Josie and Isabel were you and Hazels informants for each other without either of you knowing. Giving you unsolicited updates when either of you had called in tears over how much you missed one another.

The thought of her going out with so many different girls got to you even when Isabel would call the girls ugly to make you feel better. It especially hurt when you found yourself scrolling through the folder of photos you kept of dates and pictures of her. You couldn’t bring yourself to delete it. Pictures of her trying to stop smiling long enough to kiss you. Those destroyed you.

You pick your phone up again and unblock her turning your brain off for as long as you can. You noticed she didn’t have you blocked and you followed her again. Trying to do these actions as fast as possible to not let the anxiety strangle you. Letting out the biggest exhale you could you turn your phone off and go to bed.

————————————————————————

Hazel had followed you back by the next morning but nothing else came of it. Of course this had you ecstatic but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully make contact. A week later Isabel had invited you out to a party with full knowledge that Hazel was going to be there.

“Y/n what are you gonna wear to the party tomorrow?” She texted you. You sent her a photo of a tiny black skirt, a band tee shirt you had cut into a tank top, and your black boots. “Yeah that’ll work.” Is all she said back. You sent “???” But she never replied.

You got ready for the party putting your 90’s smokey eye on and styling your hair to perfection. You put on your most expensive perfume. Staring at yourself in your full length mirror admiring yourself in the new set you bought from Victoria secret it was lacy and red. You were determined to get laid tonight. Finishing getting dressed in clothes that didn’t give you much more coverage than the set did you hear a “ding” from your phone,

Isabel: here

Josie and Isabel pulled up to your place. You came down the stairs of your apartment complex. And basically hop over to the car. “Hey hot stuff.” Josie said wiggling her eyebrow talking to you through the open window. “Yeah just so you know we’re looking for a third.” Isabel joked looking you up and down. You giggle and slide into the back seat. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” You give both girls a kiss on there cheeks. “You guys are gonna be the hottest couple at this party.” Josie and Isabel give each other a look you couldn’t quite understand. “Doubt it.” Is all Josie said before driving. Isabel smiled at this remark confusing you.

The 3 of you had gotten out of the car walking up to the frat house the party was at. “I’m so happy you agreed to go out with us tonight.” Isabel beams at you. “Yeah all you do is study y/n you better go crazy tonight.” Josie says looking at you slyly. You laugh as you reach the front door.

You all walk inside and see PJ and Britney talking in a corner. Josie walks up to them first “Heyyyy PJ you wanna get a drink with me?” Josie takes the poor girl over to the bar. You and Isabel then go to join Britney. “Her dedication is impressive honestly.” You say to Britney and she nods her head. “Oh very impressive.” She replied taking a big sip out of her red solo cup. You look over to the bar area and do a double take.

PJ and Josie are deep in conversation with Hazel. You feel all the confidence you had drain from your body. Hazel feels your eyes on her and makes eye contact with you. You look away quickly feeling very naked in your tank top and too tiny skirt. Hazel can’t help but stare at you. The way your outfit was hugging you in the just the right places and your hair framing your face so perfectly. It made her unbelievably needy.

You wait till they leave the bar and go outside by the pool to go get yourself a drink. You feel hazels glances until they’re completely outside. You down 2 shots back to back immediately and smile coyly at a worried looking Isabel, she’s starting to regret her decision to play parent trap.

—

“Go talk to them.” Josie spoke softly to Hazel “I can’t I mean what would I even say.” Hazel huffs as she swirled her vodka strawberry lemonade around staring at it like it would turn into a portal and take her anywhere but here. “Oh I don’t know Hazel! Maybe “I miss you so much y/n that I cried during not 1 but 3 hook ups.”” Hazel just stared at Josie with her mouth open hoping no one was over hearing their conversation. “Ok I’m sorry-“ Josie started but Hazel threw her cup down and started walking furiously into the house to find you. Josie laughed in surprise that that actually worked.

You were still at the bar making yourself the strongest cocktail known to man. When you feel someone’s presence to the side of you looking up casually with a smile already feeling tipsy. Your eyes grow wide and smile falls realizing who was in front of you. “Oh.” You felt like a fucking bumbling idiot. She looked amazing her hair slightly pushed out of her face. She had on baggy jeans, a cropped green plaid button up, and adidas. The way her small chains rest at the base of her neck makes your heart skip.

“Hey h-how have you been.” Hazel asks rubbing the back of her neck looking you up and down mindlessly. “I’ve been good h-how have you been.” You try to keep it together even though you feel your heart sinking even deeper into your chest. “I miss you… like a lot.” She couldn’t keep it in anymore. She gives you a desperate look. It nearly takes your breath away you stare at her in disbelief. She looked like a sick puppy. “Can we go somewhere more private please?” She pleaded and you nod, she takes your hand hesitantly and leads you upstairs to an empty room.

Josie and Isabel watched you disappear to the second floor “let’s fucking go.” Josie says and they high five each other.

Hazel closed the door behind you and locked it. You turn to face her, looking each other in the eyes deeply. She rubs her sweaty hands on her pants and goes past you to sit on the bed. You go to sit next to her. “You look beautiful.” She spoke softly trying to be as un intimidating as possible. “So do you.” You both stare at each other not knowing what else to say.

“I miss you so much Hazel, it hurts.” You finally huffed and pouted starting to feel embarrassed at the familiar burn you were getting in your throat. Your eyes becoming glazed and heavy. Trying your best not to let out 3 months of self hatred and sadness. You looked down at nothing feeling defeated.

Hazel broke, grabbing your face with both hands to meet your eyes again then pulled you into a heated urgent kiss. It turned into a frenzied make out. Both pair of hands grasping and pulling and caressing. She pulled away just enough to whisper. “Fuck I missed you so much.” Then her lips were on you again. You grab at her shoulders grounding yourself. She pulls back once more. “I missed your lips-” You grab her by the collar not able to contain how needy you are for her. “nn-h!” you swing your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands strongly grip your hips just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

You grip onto her hair tugging her back, eyes flicking over her blushed face. You start kissing her neck feverishly. Her breathing picks up and her exhales are heavy. “You feel so good y/n.” You go to unbutton her shirt but Hazel flips you onto your back. She grabs your wrist pinning you and bring her knee against your heat. You let out a high pitched whimper.

Your skirt rides up revealing your red lace thong. Hazel takes notice her face becoming more dark and focused. “These are new.” She presses her thumb to your clothed clit. This elicits a breathless moan not expecting her actions.

Your face turns a deep shade of red when she starts kneeling between your legs. She leaves a trail of kisses starting at the top of your knee. Your fingers running through her hair making her hum into your softly skin. Hazel makes her way to your inner thigh kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin.

She sucks hard released the plush skin with a pop, leaving behind a burgundy bruise. She peeks at you through her lashes, the sight forever burned in her mind. Your mouth slightly open, eyes half lided and chest heaving it’s the prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

She focuses again nudging your clothed clit with her nose. You grip her hair harder to encourage her, and that was all she needed. She pushed your panties to the side and licked a long stripe up your cunt. You got shivers all over your body. She devours you like she’s never taste anything so good in her life. You contract around nothing as her finger ghost up and down your slit teasing you to no end.

“M-more please Hazel?” You practically beg her “Of course baby.” She comes up to smile at you and ads 2 fingers into your hole hitting just the right spot to make your eyes roll back, just like she used to do.

“Oh baby likes that huh.” She smiles to herself then goes back to abusing your clit with her mouth. Hazel used her other hand to pull your shirt up for her own pleasure and palmed your tits. Your lacy red bra excited her even more than she already was.

You felt your orgasm creeping, getting frustrated it was so soon you wanted this to last forever. “Hazel I’m gonna- ‘m s-so close Hazel.” Shes kept her brutal pace till your back arched and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “That’s it pretty girl just like that. So pretty so fucking pretty.” Hazel mumbles softly to you bringing you through your orgasm. Body shaking until you rode your high to completion.

“I missed this.” You say with a giggle steadying your breath. Hazel pulls your panties back into place and lays next to you. She grabs your face and pulls you into a slow deep kiss. “Not as much as me.” Her wide smile tells you all you need to know. Resting her hand on your face she takes in your features. She uses her thumb to wipe some of your smudged lipstick. “You wanna go back to mine?” You ask her shyly. Then laughing when you notice her equally smudged lips. “I would want nothing more.” Hazel gets up and offers you her hand helping you up.

You both walk down stairs hand and hand. Josie, Isabel, PJ and Britney have been absolutely losing it for the 15 minutes you were away. “Oh my god.” Is all Britney said see the both of you holding hands all of them turned to gawk at you.

Hazel makes a detour to the bar grabbing 2 beers with one hand for when you get back to your apartment. She had you lipstick smudged on her face and neck wearing it like a trophy. Hazel nods at the group then opens the door for you. You give Isabel and Josie a wave, grinning ear to ear, you walk out of the house with your hair a complete mess in the back. They can’t help but to laugh at the display of shamelessness.

It was going to be a very long night.

[gucciwins]

Can you write one where Harry accidentally posts a photo of y/n on his story. But she hasn’t noticed yet and when he comes home he just keeps apologizing but she doesn’t really mind.

Okay…you didn’t say harry and bel but that’s where my brain went through. So here’s a little something. roughly 1kish 💜

+

Harry thought social media was a nice way to connect with fans, but he mostly used it to post on his stories to show his friends new documentaries he was watching, his favorite wine, and new songs his girlfriend was always showing him. It was his own private world that only his close friends could see. 

His girlfriend was busy at work today working on a photo shoot with a friend’s new lipstick line and needed Bel to be a test subject, and she was more than happy to help. Harry was sitting in the studio listening to everyone’s thoughts on their new song when he heard his phone ring. Harry can’t help the smile that takes over his face when he sees Bel’s contact name. 

Bel: what do you think? 

He stares at the attached photo of you posed in front of the mirror, a seductive look on your face, and he knows that look well. Fuck. He wants to be there with you giving you everything you could ever dream of. 

Harry: You’re the most beautiful person in the world. I’ve convinced you’re an angel. 😭😘 xx

Harry: How’d I get so lucky xx

Bel: stopppp 🙈 xx

Bel: love you, mi vida. will see you when you get home xx

Home. 

You loved his house. 

You saw it as home. He’s been wanting you to move in for ages, but you always were hesitant. Now slowly, he’s noticed you bring more items over, you’ve made less effort to spend equal time in both your homes and, instead, happily stay in his large house that has begun to feel even more of a home with you around. 

Harry was so lost in his head, staring at the photo you sent, that he decided to share it with his friends. He did it often, sharing pictures of you both or you alone happily showing you off. He was always careful to add it to his private story. Harry captioned it: pretty girl. He added a yellow sticker of the sun that read, “you are my sunshine” as Harry was adding it to his story Tom called for him. He locked his phone and focused on Tom and Mitch, who had been trying to get his attention for the last few minutes. 

“Sorry, I’m all yours now.” He promises. 

Mitch laughs, “oh wait until I tell Bel that,” he teased. 

Harry playfully shoved him, telling Mitch to play the track again. 

They got to work for ten minutes when all their phones started ringing simultaneously. Harry reached for his and was flooded with messages and calls. Mainly from Jeff and Viola. 

Shit.

This could not be good. 

“H, you posted on your story,” Mitch tells him. 

Harry is too focused on calling back Jeff to focus on what Mitch is saying. “Yeah, earlier.” 

“Jeff, what’s going on?” 

Jeff laughs, “H you posted Bel on your Instagram.” 

Harry rolls his eyes, “what else is new?”

“No, Harry. You’re not hearing me,” Jeff explains. “You posted her on your story for your 48 million followers on Instagram.” 

Harry gasps, “fuck.” 

He quickly hangs up on Jeff and opens Instagram, and around his name is a pink circle and not the usual green. Oh, he’s the worst. The world knew they were dating, but you sent him the photo privately, and he shared it for the world to see. He deleted the story but knew there was no point because there must be thousands of screenshots. 

“I-I need to go home. Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, not knowing what your reaction will be. “I need to apologize. Bel was on her way home.” 

Mitch gives him a pat on the back, “it’s Bel chances are she brushes it off like nothing.” 

Harry doesn’t want to risk any chances and rushes out of the studio. He tries calling you, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Come on, Bel.” He gets home in twenty minutes and is relieved when he spots your car in front. He hurries inside, throwing the door open, not bothering to slip off his shoes. Something you will chastise him for later. You’re caught by surprise by the door opening and Harry rushing in that you drop your book, and you know you’ll have trouble finding the page later. 

“Harry?” He hurries over to your side, worry etched all over his face. “Amor ¿qué pasa?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kneels in front of you and holds your hand tight. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll do anything for you to forgive me.” 

You sit there, getting more confused by the minute. “H, what are you apologizing for?” 

Harry is so lost in his own head and repeating his apology that he doesn’t seem to hear a word you’re saying.

“Harry!” You raise your voice, and it’s enough to snap him out of the panic he’s put himself in. You soften, “baby, tell me what happened?”

Harry takes a deep breath, rubbing, bringing them close to his chest, needing it for comfort. You would do anything to see his dimpled smile. 

“I posted you on Instagram,” he shares, dejected. “On my public. Not the private one.” His voice sounds defeated, and you hate that something as a photo of you sent him into a panic. 

It breaks your heart, seeming him upset. You know it was an accident. Of course, you do. 

“H, want you to listen to me, okay?” Harry nods, keeping his emerald eyes focused on you. “I’m not mad or upset,” you assure him.

“You’re not?” 

You shake your head, “H, I saw it the minute you posted. I get your notifications. Sent you a text to check, but you didn't reply, so I assume you knew, and I let it be.”

Harry tilts his head, looking like a confused puppy. “You knew?” 

You let out a small laugh, “I did.”

“Why didn’t you answer my call?” You know he must have been referring to a few minutes ago on his way home. 

“Left it charging upstairs,” you apologize.

Harry sighs, letting his head drop into your lap. You run your hand through his hair and let him take however long he needs to let this all go. Although, you have the perfect idea to help him forget the incident. 

“I love you, Bel.” 

You repeat the sentiment, happy to have him home. 

“Do you want to make it up to me?” 

“Thought you weren’t upset,” he mutters.

You giggle, “no, I mean for scaring me for the way you barged inside.” 

Harry raises his head, an eyebrow raised, and waits for you to go on. “See, I happen to like this position we’re in. Except, it’d work better if I had less clothing on.” A smile spreads on Harry’s face, and you know this moment will be one you laugh about on a later date, but for now, this is the perfect distraction.

“I am so lucky to have you in my life, Bel.” He whispers as he helps remove your joggers. 

You feel the same way. 

[rafeverse]

your daddy's got a gun

CW: mentions of a gun, overprotective dad!rafe

AN: this was the first rafe fic i wrote after not writing anything for 2 years and i fucking hate it LMAO but since it was the birth of the dad!rafe au, I'm not going to delete it

the day rafe had been dreading for months now had finally come. mia, your 17 year old daughter, was going to her junior prom. her first high school dance.

when mia was an underclassmen, she’d had countless junior and senior boys try to take her to the prom, but her dad shut all of that down, much to his daughter’s dismay. he had insisted she was too young and could go once she was old enough. he turned a deaf ear to all of her begging and pleading.

now, however, she was old enough to attend and quickly let him know that she was going whether he liked it or not. when he tried to shut her down, y/n would come to her defense and remind him that he “said she could go when she reached 11th grade!”

so there he sat, scrolling on his phone, on the soft, expensive, white sectional he and his wife had picked out when they first moved into their extravagant home (nothing could be simple with rafe). he decided to let you take mia around town to her hair and makeup appointments, while he sat at home and made a few phone calls and finished some paperwork.

he smiled when the door opened and he heard the most beautiful sound in the world- the sound of his girls laughing and talking.

y/n quickly ‘shushed’ mia and told her to wait as she ran ahead of her into the living room where she knew rafe would be.

“hey baby.” he greeted his wife.

“hello, my love.” y/n smiled.

“where’s my other girl?” rafe tried looking around his wife for his precious daughter, but couldn’t see her.

“hmm, are you sure you’re ready to see her, rafe? you might need to sit down.” y/n said loudly, causing their daughter to giggle.

“positive.”

“okay, sit down and close your eyes!!” once rafe was seated, y/n signaled for their daughter to come into the room.

“okay dad, you can open your eyes.” rafe quickly opened his eyes and gasped when he saw her. she wore a beautiful, long, pink dress and her hair had been curled. he couldn’t believe his eyes. his baby girl. his daughter was old enough to go to the prom.

“sweetheart, you look so beautiful.” rafe engulfed the girl into a bear hug, only pulling away when she pushed him off of her in fear that he would ruin her makeup or wrinkle her dress.

“thank you, dad.” she smiled back at him. y/n couldn’t help but notice how much the young girl favored her father. they had the same smile, eyes, and nose.

the sweet moment was interrupted by an alarm going off, telling y/n that they had to get mia to the spot where she’d be taking her pictures.

“oh! guys! come on, we need to get downtown so we can get your pictures done, mia! will you text jack and let him know we’re leaving the house now?” y/n scrambled to get everything she needed from the house before they took off again.

while she was scrambling, rafe was still. jack? who the fuck is jack? he stood, racking his brain for any recollection of this jack.

y/n noticed his stillness and his stare, and immediately knew what was on his mind.

“rafe, they’ve gone to school together forever. you know him. he’s alyssa and thomas’ son, remember? from the country club? i think he’s actually a waiter there. anyways, come on or we’ll be late.” y/n quickly explained as she walked towards the door.

however, this still didn’t really make rafe feel any better. for a moment, he felt himself seep back into his old ways, getting a bit angry that his wife would just let mia go to the dance with someone he barely even knew.

“yeah, babe, i’m coming. just let me grab my jacket.” rafe walked quickly to their shared bedroom and, when he was sure his wife was out of the house, he opened up his safe and pulled out his trusty 9MM. he put the gun in his waistband and threw his jacket on. he didn’t know this jack, and he wanted to be prepared in case the boy tried anything. plus, he could easily flash it if he felt jack getting too cocky.

mia: DAD!!!

mia: COME ON!!!

mia: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGG

he was pulled out of his thoughts by his dinging phone. he rolled his eyes at the texts and put his phone back in his pocket before heading out the door.

-

when they arrived at the spot for pictures, jack and his family were already there waiting. jack walked up to the truck as rafe was putting it in park. he opened the door for mia and helped her out of the tall vehicle.

“wow, you look…you look beautiful, mia.” jack stammered and mia blushed. rafe rolled his eyes at the interaction and y/n noticed, slapping him on the arm and warning him to “be nice.”

when jack was sure mia was good to go, he went to open the door for y/n, only to be met by a larger, stronger rafe cameron.

“nope, i’ve got it, bud.” now it was time for y/n and mia to roll their eyes.

“dad,” mia groaned as she crossed her arms over her chest.

rafe opened the door and helped his wife out of the truck. as they walked to the photographer and jack’s family, rafe pulled jack back so the two could walk a bit behind the girls and talk.

“listen, jack. i don’t know what your intentions are for my daughter and honestly, i really don’t give a fuck. what i do know, is that if you even so much as think about laying a finger on her, it will be the last thing you ever do.” rafe paused and lifted up his shirt a bit, revealing the handle of the gun that was tucked away in his waistband. “are we clear?”

jack swallowed thickly and let out a shaky “y-yes sir.” rafe patted him on the back, smirking as he went to catch up with his wife.

-

“come on, you two! get closer together.” the photographer called out to the couple.

“yeah jack, you’re acting like you barely even know mia! scooch closer to her, son! put your arm around her waist.” jack’s mom directed her son.

jack froze as he made eye contact with mia’s father. rafe stood beside his wife and stared at the boy, coldly, tapping his finger on the grip of the pistol that only he and jack knew was there.

“i-i-um. yeah, okay.” jack shook his head and carefully moved maybe a millimeter closer to mia. when they wrapped up pictures, mia pulled jack aside as their parents were conversing with the photographer.

“dude, what the hell is going on with you? you’re acting so weird.” mia questioned jack as she had picked up on his odd behavior.

when he looked up, he immediately made eye contact with rafe. “it’s-uh-it’s nothing. i guess i’m just a bit nervous because you look so pretty.” jack gulped and mia rolled her eyes.

“jack, seriously, what’s really wrong?” mia huffed.

“um,” he knew he couldn’t win against her, she’d just keep pressing the issue until she got the answer she wanted. (her mother would tell her she was just like her father when she did this.) “mia, your, um, your daddy’s gotagun.” he said the last few words so quickly and quietly that she barely even heard him.

“my dad what?”

“your daddy’s got a gun.”

mia’s eyes widened before an annoyed look covered her face as she let out a groan. she turned to look at her father, who was already looking at her, smirking proudly.

[kaylinlmfao]

i NEED a smut from ethan where: sub! Reader x dom! Ethan and you and ethan are "enemies" who have a horny whore for the other (but would never admit it) and you say in a conversation with your friends (where he is obviously) that you have no chance of ethan being a dom, however, he proves you to the contrary

the promise

type(s) of piece: imagine, drabble, oneshot, series

type(s) of writing: smut, fluff, angst, dark, suggestive

warning(s): rough smut, hate fucking, sub space, orgasm control, overstimulation, edging, ownership kink, dom ethan being a cocky tease, choking, slapping, just really dirty and nasty in general, degradation, tummy bulge, ethan is super experienced like a fuckboy, oral (ethan and reader receiving) use of a vibrator, and lastly, HUGE PRAISE KINK

pairing(s): dom!ethan landry x sub!reader

A/N: I love this so much, eep! I am slowly working on requests for ethan so that's been fun., I have lots of things in the works. and just something I kinda wanna do, I watched the prequel star wars movies with my sister so if anyone wants some yandere anakin skywalker (😵) request and let me know!

on a more serious note, something I need to tell y'all. I have been getting a lot of hate recently about writing smut for the sturniolo triplets. I deeply apologize because I only just joined their fandom. I didn't know they specifically asked not to have smut written about them until a super sweet anon, thank you anon, told me. the one nsfw post I did post of them, the anon just said they said they felt weird about it. I didn't know and I apologize for that. so, I will no longer be accepting smut requests and the posts of smut for the sturniolo's will be deleted. thank you to the few kind people who commented on a couple posts and the anons that told me, NICELY. but honestly the amount of mean things that were submitted, telling me to kill myself, etc, is terrible. thanks again to the people who kindly let me know and to the ones who were rude about it, I blocked all of them. thanks and enjoy! (this was not proofread obviously)

2k+ words (I went overboard again)

you let out a loud laugh at ethan's words. "am I gonna die a virgin?" he asks, looking concerned. "you're a virgin? predictable actually. you seem like a virgin." you say, smirking as you stand up to go talk to a couple other friends. "hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" "context clues ethan. use your little brain and try to figure it out. let me know when you do, hm?" you purposely sway your hips a bit more than usual, knowing he was looking at you. ethan hated you. the day he met you, he was super sweet and kind. when you saw him again later, he started giving you the cold shoulder. and if he wanted to be an asshole, you could do it too.

"get this. kitten over there is a virgin." you say to your roommates, hailee and aubrey. "ethan landry? a virgin? no way." hailee said, looking at you unbelievably. "yeah, he isn't a virgin. bet he's a dom." you look at aubrey is disbelief and then glance at ethan, who you see standing up. you turn back before you see where he's going but you say loudly. "ethan landry. a dom? no fucking way. he's such a sub. would probably cry if you even started degrading him. he'd cum as soon as you touch him. poor baby."

"who you talking about, princess?" "oh just some immature child that I know." you could see he overheard almost everything you said about him being a sub, but what was he gonna do? and, provoking him is your favorite game. "hm." he nods, staring directly into your eyes. you weren't breaking the eye contact and it looked like he wasn't gonna either. finally, you start blushing from the intense stare he was giving you and the sexual tension that was sparking between the two of you so you look down at your hands in your lap. "that's what I thought" "what's that supposed to mean?!" "context clues, gorgeous. use your little brain and try to figure it out. let me know when you do, hm?" he says, mocking you and your words earlier.

now, you were really flushed. he was still looking at you like a piece of meat he wanted to devour, the nicknames he was calling you was causing you to clench your thighs just to relieve some of the wetness from in between them, and his mocking you made you drift more into subspace then you'd ever admit. but, you don't back down from a challenge. "hm? maybe it means that you think you win. but guess what?" you challenge him, standing up. which was a bad idea because he's 6'1 and makes him even more intimidating. "what's that, sweetheart?" he humors you with a smirk. "I always win. and take that stupid smirk off your face or I'll smack it off."

he chuckles as he leans towards your ear. goosebumps break out over your skin at his touch as he whispers. "and I'll be smirking just like this when you're so fucking cockdrunk on my dick the only thing you'll be able to scream is my name" he laughs at the look on your face as he walks away. oh that little shit.

asshole

hi there princess. you ready for me to keep good on my promise?

when you see that notification on your phone, you almost pass out. you thought he was kidding! you guys make jokes like that all the time. well maybe not that bold but still! but the sexual tension between the two of you, according to everyone that you both know, is insane. luckily, he's in a class right now. thank goodness, you aren't. you're laying on your bed and the best idea you've had all day came threw your window and straight into your head. you quickly stripped your clothes off and walked to your closet and found your sexiest lingerie set you own and you slip it on. you quickly walk over to your drawer and pull out the vibrator you have in there, just for fun.

you check the time and see he still has 20 more minutes in his class until he's done. perfect. you set your phone up on the headboard and lay on your back on the bed. hailee and aubrey are out at a party luckily. you rush to press the record button feeling the slick between your thighs start to run down between them. you slowly slip your fingers inside of your wet pussy, moaning and whimpering. then you switch the vibrator on and press it gently on your clit, crying out softly. all the thoughts in your head are of ethan. ethan teasing you, ethan mocking you, ethan and his stupid nicknames, ethan shirtless, oh god. you near closer and closer to the edge and right as your about to coat your fingers in your slick, you add the finishing touch. "oh chad. fuck so good. please!" you moan out, cumming and ending the video after you finish riding out your high.

you send it to him quickly and laugh because he still has about 15 minutes of class to sit through. he wants to embarrass you in front of your friends then he can suffer through a boner for the next 15 minutes. maybe then that'll show him he doesn't have the control. he doesn't win. 10 minutes after you clean up and layed on the bed, still in the lingerie just in case but now with clothes over it so if your roommates come home early they won't see anything.

asshole

holy fuck. I fucking hate you, y/n

you

does it hurt, kitten? does your rock hard cock hurt?

asshole

I'm in the bathroom in the c hall. meet me there. now

you

I don't think I will. you hate me so much, you wouldn't wanna be anywhere near me while pleasing your pretty little dick would you?

you send another photo, laughing at your choice in clothes. you're wearing the thigh high stockings and school girl skirt he loves but claims he hates so much.

asshole

when I get my hands on you....

you

what? you gonna come in your pants as soon as I touch you? you gonna cry? submissive little baby

read 3:37 pm

uh oh. you didn't realize but time flies when you're having fun. his class is over. oh shit. you get up and run to lock the front door but before you can, it's slammed open. you flinch as it makes a hole in the wall. you squeal with a laugh as he comes towards you. you run over to your room and lock the door quickly, sliding down and laughing to yourself. you think its hilarious how hard his dick is just from a 5 minute video of you. you think its funny how long he had to sit in class with a boner.

you stand and run over to your bed but then you stop to really listen. its quiet. dead silent. then you hear the sound of your cracked window sliding open and ethan climbing in, leaving it cracked again. "oh hey, kitten! ooo that boner looks painful! you should really get someone to fix that!" "I plan on it, slut. knees" he nods at you, looking at you with dark angry eyes. "wow kitty! I think that this is the angriest I've ever seen you! I thought you'd like the video. now you have something to watch while you're jerking off to the thought of me hm? so how about you get on your knees." uh oh. its the stare down part. the part you suck at. you can stare any old person down but you've never been able to hold eye contact with ethan before.

10 seconds in, you're doing ok. 20 seconds in, he starts advancing and you quickly back up, holding eye contact the whole time. but oh shit. you just realized, he's backed against the wall of your dorm. damn that fucking height difference. now your blushing and clenching your thighs together. fuck. the way he's looking at you. so angry, his eyes full of lust. he slowly leans down to your height. "oh come on princess. this be so much more fun if you just stop denying what you've known this whole time. I'm not a sub, never have been and never will be. and you, oh you, are just a little brat who wants to be held down and pounded until you're crying. is that right, pretty girl? you just need someone to put you in your place." he chuckles at the deep red blush on your face as he takes his hand and wraps it around your throat. "so I'll say it one more time. knees now." he commands and you, slowly, sink down to your knees.

he lets out a low groan as you immediately unbutton his pants and suck on the tip of him. "ready?' you hear him ask. you nod as you start taking as much of him into your mouth as possible, pumping what can't fit. he looks down on you gently before fisting your hair and begins thrusting his cock into your mouth, fast and hard. tears are streaking down your face, your arousal dripping onto the carpet below you. dumb of you not to put panties on under your skirt. you feel ethan twitching in your mouth so you suck a little harder. the finishing touch. you look at him from under your lashes with big eyes. as he pulls out of your pretty mouth, he laughs at your state. "bed." he utters lowly. you are quick to follow his command, laying on your bed.

he flips up your skirt as he climbs onto the mattress. "oh you slut. no panties? its like you knew that I was gonna get angry and fuck you. right?" "no! I thought I was-" you cut yourself off by letting out a cry as ethan sucked your clit into his mouth. you were so sensitive from your orgasm earlier and so wet from sucking his dick, you immediately came all over his tongue and he was quick to clean it up. "who was gonna come as soon as they were touched? cause it wasn't me." you turn an even deeper shade of red, remembering your words prior. he climbs up and looks you in your eyes.

"and since you obviously need help holding eye contact, I'll be nice and help you out. if you break eye contact, you don't cum. do you understand?" you nod, so ready and needy for his cock. "words, gorgeous." "yes please yes!" you cry out as he pushed himself inside of your tight fluttering hole, gripping his back hard. he stays still for a few seconds, as if he's trying to let you adjust. then he starts fullfilling his promise. your breath gets caught in your throat as he starts pounding into you. fast. he snakes his hand down and rubs slow circles on your already sensitive clit. all while holding eye contact. you didn't dare look away and it was so hot.

"oh look at your pretty little pussy. she's so fucking tight. fuck. milking me so good. good girl." tears start pouring down your cheeks again as he rips your shirt right down the middle, the buttons flying everywhere. "I liked that shirt!" you sob. "i'll buy you a new one." he mutters in between grunts. you moan loudly as he shifts you so you're now sitting on his lap, the position allowing to sink even deeper back in your dripping cunt. he finally breaks the eye contact and dips his head down to start sucking and biting your hard peaked nipples. peaked from your arousal and the fact that the cold air from your cracked window is still seeping in. you're bawling your eyes out from the intense pleasure ethan is giving you. he's so deep you can feel him in your stomach.

"ethan, please!" "please what sweetheart? what do you need?" his hand snakes down and presses firmly on the bulge of him in your tummy. "I don't know!" you're blinded by the pleasure, your tears falling onto ethan's cheeks. "oh poor princess. there isn't a thought in that pretty little head is there. so drunk on my cock can't even think. who does this pretty pussy belong to?" you don't respond and he chuckles as he looks at you. drool seeping out the corners of your mouth, mascara running down your cheeks, your hands tangled in his hair trying to find something, anything to ground you so you can think but you can't. you're head is so airy and empty and you love it.

"who does this pretty pussy belong to?" ethan repeats. "you!" you cry out. "who's place is this?" he asks, pushing down on the bulge in your tummy. "yours!" you're so close, so close. all you can think about now is cumming. ethan thinks about taking it away but that seems too cruel for him. "oh but I thought it was chad? I thought you wanted chad to fuck you?" "no! not chad! only you!" you moan. "who do you belong to?" "you!" you scream/sob as he pinches your clit and you come, hard. you must've blacked out for a minute because when you come to, ethan's and your arousal are mixed together, dripping down his cock, and ethan is wiping your tears, still inside you. "you did so good for me, princess. my gorgeous good girl." he moves to pull out of your fluttering cunt and you whimper as you hold on.

"just a few more minutes" you slur, still on clouds of pleasure. "few more minutes?" he asks, moving to lean against the headboard, chuckling as you moan when he moves. "yeah." "ok, princess. a few more minutes." ethan smiles at your state in subspace, so airy. you tangle your hands in ethan's hair as you lean your head against his shoulder, falling asleep quickly while still impaled on his cock. ethan chuckles as he remembers. he kept his promise and he kept it well.

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty six - you bring me home

frank castle x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content minors dni! (car sex lmaooo, mxf nothing you haven’t seen before, its pretty sweet <3) swearing, canon typical violence, mention of scars, injuries, blood, literally packed everything into this chapter its a big one

a/n: wow. this was so rough oh my god. the entire first draft deleted itself and i had to re write the whole thing from memory, so i lost my planned chapter. i really hope i got everything in here, and im sorry for the wait AND how long it is lmao but i just. can’t believe i really finished it. ill rant at the end, but if you only read this part, i love you. thank you for letting me share the absolute vomit that is my brain. you are the best.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How was the drive?” Franks voice sends a shiver down your spine, even hundreds of miles away through a crappy phone line.

“Boring.” You sigh, pacing around the tiny motel room.

“You were meant to call an hour ago. Got me waitin’ up for you.” He sounds tired, and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s stupid, but the image makes you a little giddy. Waiting up for you. 

“There was… traffic.”

“You get lost?”

“Fuck you.” You bite automatically and he groans.

“So yeah?” 

“Yes, Frank. I got lost.” He laughs, the sound managing to take your mind off the dark room you’d managed to secure for the night, the bedside light doing nothing to brighten the small space.

“I gave you a map. It’s a straight shot from where you started.” Rolling your eyes, you look at the map you’d now bundled into a ball and thrown into the trash.

“Who uses a printed map? Seriously, how fucking old are you?” It’s playful and familiar, and all the frustration of driving for 10 hours melts into the bed.

Being a key witness in a now ongoing case apparently didn’t come with any frequent flyer miles, because both Matt and Frank had said you couldn’t risk going through airport security and being flagged in a system, so it meant you had to drive nearly 18 hours to Florida. You thought you didn’t mind road trips, but after today you think it’s only road trips with Frank you don’t mind.

“Maps don’t change, baby. Besides, you’d drive yourself into a god damn tree the second that voice in the car told you you’d missed a turn.” You hate that he’s right— even the thought of that monotone voice droning in your ear for ten hours makes you cringe.

“Whatever. Tell me about something. You said you were going to speak to Madani today?” He’s the one sighing now, and clearly the talk was about as fun as your drive.

“She’s all over the place. Some mishandled evidence fucked their entire case, and Bobby’s lawyers were too well paid to let it go. Murdock said they’ll be able to find more— the appeal’s already been approved cause of how high profile it is, but he’s got no new evidence. He said he doesn’t know if they can get him.”

“That’s… what I expected, I guess.” Frank agrees, and your sudden silence only serves to bring the real issue to hand. “You know where he is?”

“Yeah. I got it covered.” The line goes quiet, and you don’t really know what to say.

On one hand, you want Bobby dead. You know can’t do it- it wasn’t smart, and the last thing you were going to do is drag everything Matt and Madani had worked for through the mud for someone like him, let alone put Sam in danger. Some fucked up part of you is a little mad that it won’t be you, but Frank has every reason to hate him as much as you. You know Frank wants this, and that telling him to stop is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Your hesitation would only spur him to do it faster, be more impulsive. You don’t want to say anything to put him off.

On the other, you just want him with you. You worry like some love sick child, scared he’s walked out the door and isn’t coming back. You worry he’ll get caught, and end up in the exact spot he was trying to get you out of. You’re scared he’ll get hurt, or worse. Every time you close your eyes you can see him bleeding out, dark red staining your hands until you can scream yourself awake. There’s so many things that could go wrong, and ten hours staring over the hood of your car gives you way too much time to think about hypotheticals.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Frank says softly, and you flop yourself back on the single bed.

“Are you?” He huffs like the question is irrelevant.

“Madani asked about your dad today.” He ignores the question, and you’re too interested to poke him on it.

“Oh?”

“Asked what he knew about your time there. If he ever worked with the Gnucci’s.” A lump forms in your throat.

“You think she knows about the weird... blood stuff?”

“Don’t see why she would. Either way, it’s not gonna matter once he’s dead.” The bluntness of it almost makes you laugh. “He’ll be gone, and no one will come for it. Or you.”

“You don’t have to do this for me, Frank.”

“I’m not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Alright, I am, but not just that. The shit he said to me in there— the things he said about you. The way he looked at you in there… I watched that shit, and there’s no way in hell that asshole does what he did and lives.”

“What if he was found guilty? Would you of left it alone?” Maybe if you’d been more helpful to Matt and Madani, it would of gone better, and Frank would be here.

“You want me to answer that?” A part of you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. That wasn’t who he was. It shouldn’t make you feel the way it does to know that Frank would kill for you— just to make you safe. It does anyway, and heat flushes over your face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He agrees, a low sound rumbling from his end of the phone. “I spent most of the day wishing you were with me, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Turns out I fucking hate driving.” He laughs again, and if you could listen to the sound all night you think you’d sleep peacefully.

“You remember how mad you were that first time I didn’t let you drive?” Shaking your head, you flick off the lights slide under the covers.

“I was mad because you had a concussion and tried to fucking kill us.”

“Least I was gonna go the right way.”

“You tried switching drivers on the freeway, Castle.”

“Alright, I was a a bit out of it.” He says plainly and you smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “Wished you were here, too.”

“I bet you did.” He groans, and you hear him shift on the bed. Your bed.

“Too much space in here. Didn’t even know we had this much blanket.” He makes a real noisy show of it, tossing around the blankets you usually roll yourself up in. It’s meant to be a light hearted thing, but for some reason the idea of Frank spread out on your shared bed, one that you’ve both used extensively— it makes your heart race.

“Dickhead.” He groans again, shuffling around some more. “This one’s too small. Probably have to sleep on top of each other if you were here.”

“M’alright with that.”

“Not a lot of room to move, though.” You look around at the room, hardly enough space to stand in the corner.

“We’d figure something out.” You let your eyes flutter closed, humming high pitched at the idea. “What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“You.” You admit, and he seems to like it.

“Me too. Haven’t gone a night in this apartment without fuckin’ you in this bed. Drivin’ me crazy.” You hum again, pressing your thighs together to try and dissipate the heat that’s suddenly overtaken your whole body. “You thinkin’ about it now too, aren’t you baby?”

“Yeah, Frank.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He growls, and you bite your lip to hide your laugh.

“Why not, Frank?” You practically purr the word, drawing it out and saying it all breathy like you do when he’s teasing you.

“Cause you’re gonna make me drive ten hours just to fuck you in whatever dirty motel you pulled off into.” You’re still smiling, but you think if you keep messing with him, he’d do it. He’d drive ten hours, a hundred of them if it meant teaching you a lesson. Or just being with you. “I’ll see you soon. Real soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, knowing if you keep talking to him your entire plan will crumble in front of you, because you’re half considering driving home just to sleep next to him. “Soon. Be safe, okay?”

The words tumble out, and you try to hide the guilt you feel when you say them. He was only not safe because of you— because you couldn’t finish the job yourself. You’re glad he can’t see your face, because you hear him mumble on the other end and your eyes close listening to him.

“Always. Tell the kid I said hi.” With that, Frank hangs up the phone, and you slide it onto the table right next to the pistol you keep loaded and ready to fire.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank pulls the saturated beanie over his head, and it’s probably doing more harm than good at this point, but he doesn’t have a second to really give a shit. His eye-line is perfect— directed straight into the penthouse apartment Bobby Gnucci was driven to three hours ago. He’s been tucked away in the corner of the rooftop for just as long, watching the man pace and yell on the phone.

It had taken him a few goes to get the right frequency to listen in on the calls he was making, but once he had he took as much information done as he could. He’d had enough of watching, and now he was satisfied with the phones calls he’d listened to that the man was alone for the night; not counting his extensive security team layered through the apartment block. Frank felt the familiar hum in his veins, shoving his loaded pistol in his jeans and swinging the strap of a rifle over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs, across the street and slipped into the back of the building.

There’d be witnesses if he didn’t take the right route, and to make this work he needed every chance at an alibi he could get. He was so used to not caring— every time he’d gone into something like this, he didn’t have something to get back to. He had no preservation, no concern for what came after. Hell, if he was honest, he didn’t care if he went out doing something like this. He would of preferred it, maybe even hoped he’d die somewhere in the cross fire.

Even just talking to you on the phone had him itching to get back to you now. He wanted to be careful— something he never really thought of before. A heavy ache in his stomach that twisted something violent when he thought about not getting home, not making good on his promise from a few hours ago, it made him sick. He planned as much as he could, as much as he was capable of, and hoped to God it was enough.

Frank hid his body behind the corner of the wall. He hid his face, too, even though he’d already had Micro’s help shutting out the cameras. He knew it would set off alarms for the security team, but he planned for that. They’d spread out, follow orders that he’d listened to over the radio, three men on all the entries and exits, and then ten through the penthouse. If he timed it right, he could clear the first few levels before the guards arrived.

He didn’t care about making noise now— slamming his way up the fire access while Gnucci’s men no doubt got into position. He’d just past a number 6, and Bobby was on the top floor. 23. He kept going, not hearing any doors open. When he passed 9, the door on the level below him cracked open and he jammed through the next exit he reached, getting into position.

He could hear voices coming from his right, and steadied himself as he turned the safety off his gun. He had a small army of men to get through, but he knew if he could make it, landing the hit on Bobby would be easy.

He wasn’t nervous. Pure adrenaline flooded him, like it always did, and he didn’t think twice before standing out of cover and pulling the trigger.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How have you grown so much?!” You nearly shout, hugging Sam tighter as he all but latches onto your leg. “God, you’re gonna be my height soon.”

“I missed you!” He says, words muffled in your jacket. You don’t even have to bend really, he’s that tall. It is even possible for him to grow that much in just a month? “Come! I want to show you my stuff. Me and Niko share a room, and it’s the coolest thing…”

You let him drag you around the house, showing you the bunk beds that are set up for him and Nikolai. He shows you books he’s brought home from school, and it makes you smile how chaotic his room is. There’s piles of books and papers everywhere, stuffed under the bed and nearly toppling on the tables. It looks like it’s lived in… like a home, and your heart warms and breaks all at once.

When he finally finishes his impromptu tour, he pulls you outside where the rest of the family has set themselves up, and runs out into the giant back yard to chase after Nikolai. You hardly had a chance to say hello to them, but if you were honest you hadn’t thought of anything but Sam since you saw him.

“Did he show you the bunk beds?” The doctor— Zaed, you remind yourself, comes up behind you on the deck. “He hasn’t stopped talking about showing you.”

“I thought he was gonna explode.” Zaed laughs, and you turn to look at him. He’s still sporting a scar across his forehead, and it somehow makes his older features look slightly hardened. His face was still soft, something about him gesturing kindness, an observation you never made in the months you were locked away. “He told me you made them.”

“It took me weeks. I am not very… handy.” Smiling, you turn back to watch Sam and Nikolai screaming and laughing as they chase each other with Nerf guns. “I am sorry for what happened with the case.”

“So am I. If he’d gone away, you wouldn’t have to stay in Witness Protection.” He nods, turning away for a second only to return and offer you a can of something. “What is it?”

“It’s Russian. You’ll like it— it’s strong.” You crack it open and take a long drink, hoping to drown the rising anxiety that kneads the back of your mind at the thought of what Frank was doing right now. “We don’t mind it so much here.”

“Florida?” He nods.

“We want to stay. Corinne thinks the children— with what they’ve been through, shouldn’t move too much. They seem happy here.” You hum in agreement, listening  to the light squeals of the youngest girl, who’s name you haven’t learnt yet, who’s got the biggest Nerf gun of all and is shooting the shit out of both boys. “It was my idea. To offer to take him in. If you are upset, please lay the blame with me—“

“Upset? God, why would I ever be upset?” He blinks in surprise, looking to you.

“You are here with him, and yet you still seem far away. I figured the suggestion was weighing on you. We only offer because… well, we have all grown quite fond of him, and for you— to you we owe our lives. I thought if we could make any of this easier…” You shake your head, finishing the bitter liquid in the can.

“You looking after Sam is about one of two good things I have going right now.” Zaed seems to relax, leaning forward onto the railing as you both stare out to watch the kids. “I think he’s happy here.”

“He is. He misses you, but he is happy.”

“And safe.”

“Of course. I pity anyone who would try to get past Corinne now.” You laugh at the tinge of genuine anxiety in his voice, as if he imagines it, but his eyes are full of admiration.

“I want to talk to him about it… make sure he’s okay, but if he wants to, I think him staying here would be the best thing for him.” Zaed doesn’t answer right away, just lets the echoed laughter of the kids fill both of your ears before he nods simply.

“He will be safe. And I am sure you will learn to love Florida, too, with how much you will visit?”

“What?” Again, a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Sam did not show you the spare room? We have cleared a space for you— whenever you need it. You… it is the least I could do. You saved my life—“

“Hardly.”

“I owe you it. My families life. My own. Whatever you should need here, the door would be open to you.” You have to look away, because it’s too much, and you don’t know when you became so soft that shit like this made you tear up.

“You don’t owe me anything. You keeping Sam safe is everything I ever wanted. I think we’re even now.” You laugh, your throat suddenly feeling a little tight.

“I couldn’t help but notice you arrived alone.” He questions, and you hide your face, unsure if the way you chew on your bottom lip gives too much away.

“Yeah.” No amount of alcohol could drown out the thought of Frank. You hadn’t heard from him in a day. Zaed looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he assess you.

“I thought he was going to drown with you that night. When he saw you go into the water… I recognise that look in a man’s eyes.” It seems so long ago now, and your hand instinctively goes to your stomach, where Frank sewed you up the first time. “He is coming soon, I assume? I doubt he would let you get too far from him right now.”

“Yeah, he’s…” You trust Zaed— but there’s only one person who takes precedent over the people taking care of your brother. “He’s just finishing up some stuff with the case in New York. He should be on his way now.”

“Ah.” He says, his eyes lingering on you in question. You say nothing, just sink a little more of the can. “Well, when he kills the ублюдок, I hope he makes it last.”

Before you can recover and wipe the shock off your face long enough to ask him how the hell he guessed what Frank is doing, Sam and Nikolai are in front of you, and Zaed disappears back into the house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank grunts, a loud nearly animalistic sound vibrating off the walls as he clears the 23rd floor. Every time he breathes out, blood sprays out of his mouth. He can’t tell if it’s his own or he’s just covered in so much that it’s dripping off him. Either way he can’t help it, chest burning for oxygen after he laid the lower floors to absolute waste.

He’d ditched the assault rifle somewhere between the 18th and 19th floors, not even bothering to pull out his pistol. No— he’d fought every single one of them with his bare hands, and anything he could find scattered between dead bodies.

His right hand was fucked, and he’s pretty sure he got shot. Somewhere on the right side of his body, there’s a shooting pain between his thigh and his ribs, but it’s not enough to slow him down. He shoves his body weight into the penthouse door, throwing himself into guards he knows are ready and waiting for him. He reaches for his pistol, shooting three guys in the head before his eyes adjust to the dimmer lights in the room.

He hears them shouting orders, and he kills three more as he crosses the living room. One of them he puts through the TV screen, glass shattering under his hand as he crushes the man’s skull between the hard surface. The other two he shoots, and then moves towards the last four. All of them shield the door to the bedroom— putting their lives on the line for a man who doesn’t deserve the air he’s wasting.

Frank doesn’t have a moral compass when it comes to revenge. Not when it has to do with the people he loves. It’s why he clears the round of bullets in his gun on all four of them in less than thirty seconds, watching the lifeless bodies pile up in the doorway, there isn’t a single moment that he hesitates.

“Bobby!” Frank shouts, his voice horse and so loud he’s got no doubt the dead hear it.

He hears shuffling, and drops the pistol before stomping his way through into the bedroom. He sees Bobby, crawling across the floor in an attempt to reach for a gun dropped by one of the guards, but just as he goes to reach for it, Frank slams a bloody boot down on top of his hand, feeling the crush of bone under his weight.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and Frank smiles sickly, blood dripping from his teeth. “Get the fuck off me, you animal!”

Frank kicks him in the face, two of his teeth flying out and scattering across the carpet. As he rolls over, Frank grabs him by the collar and sits him up, watching his head lull to the side.

“Wake up.” Frank slams his fist into his skull. There was no way he was passing out this fast. Not after what he’s done. “Wake the fuck up.”

His hands shake with how hard he’s holding Bobby upright. So hard he feels the bone of his collar begin to give, and Frank chases the idea. Bobby thrashes, screaming as his eyes shoot open, the sound kicking Frank back into gear. He lets go of his shoulder long enough to pull back, only to drive his fist and crack the rest of his shoulder.

“Help m—“ Bobby tries to shout, but Frank shuts him off with another well placed shove of his weight into Bobby’s stomach, winding him. He wheezes, the pathetic sound something like music to Franks ears.

He punches him again— over and over. Not enough to kill him, though. No, Frank wasn’t done, he was just feeding the thrill. He’d been waiting too fucking long for this, and there was something satisfying about seeing this man— this weak excuse for a man being blinded by his own blood as he cries for someone to help him.

“Ain’t no one comin’ for you.” He growls, and grabs Bobby’s face so it hangs straight. His jaw is slack, but his eyes go wide when he feels the blade at his ribs. “You know that? That there ain’t a single person out there comin’ for you. No one gives a shit about you. You’re alone in here— your life in my hands.”

“Haaa—“ Bobby tries but whatever it is fades out into a scream when Frank slides the blade between his third and fourth rib. Slowly— real fucking slow. “They… they’ll come. Th-They’ll come f-for me.”

“No one’s comin’. Dead. All of ‘em. You’re alone.” He slides it a little deeper, watching the realisation wash over his face.

In truth, Frank wasn’t doing this for him. Sure, it felt fucking good, and Frank was enjoying the sight of the life draining out of his eyes, but he wants him to know why. Why he’s here, why he took out every last man in this building so he knew there was no hope. No one for him to go to.

He knew that’s what it was like for you. Frank couldn’t give you back those years, and he couldn’t take that much time with this— he’d thought about it, but he wanted this to end here and now. He could do this here, for you. Could make him know just how it feels to have all that power beat out of you, and know that there’s no one out there coming to save you.

“Stop…stop!” He wails, and Frank hits him harder. Every crack of his fist sends Bobby further into unconsciousness, and when he manages to stop himself, he shakes him awake again.

He gurgles on his own blood, dark red pools choking out of his mouth. His face is unrecognisable, already starting to blow up as he strangles in a few short breaths.

“I can… I have money. I can p—“ The effort of the words sprays another load of blood out of his mouth, and even though he’s exhausted, Frank laughs.

“You think I want money?” He leans down, yanking the knife out of his ribs and shoving it in again.

“Fuck! What do you—what do you want?!” Bobby wails again. Frank smiles.

“I want you to know that she’s the reason you’re dead. The last thing you’ll know is me— my face, and you’ll know it’s because you ended up just like you made her. Except she got out, and you never will.” Frank loses sense of time, his injuries starting to catch up with him as he yanks the knife out one more time, before slamming it home into Bobby’s skull.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m watching!” You shout as Sam lines up again, taking a few steps back before rushing forward and kicking the ball towards their make shift goal in the yard. You have to admit, for only been playing a few weeks, he’s got a hell of a kick on him.

“See! I’m getting better— my coach says next year I can try out for the first grade team if I keep training!” He’s smiling so big, and then he’s gone again, picking up the ball to take another shot at Nikolai who’s got goalkeeper gloves on, ready to catch it.

You’d be happy to watch this all day, but then Corinne calls out to you, telling you your phone is ringing, and you all but leap over the railing of the deck. When you race inside, you expect to see Franks name, and your heart sinks when you don’t. You knew he wouldn’t be able to call until it was over, but it’s been nearly two days since you’d heard anything. Then, you see it’s an unknown number calling, and your hands are shaking when you disappear into what is meant to be ‘your’ room to answer.

“Hello?” You recognise the voice instantly when she says your name. “Fucking hell, Karen. You scared me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but are you?!” She nearly shouts, and you are still coming back to your mind with relief it wasn’t someone telling you Frank was dead. “I don’t even know how you did it, but I don’t want to. The way they found him… Jesus.”

“Wait. What? Karen, I’m in Florida.”

“What?”

“I’m with my brother in Florida. I came up here two days ago after the trial.” She goes quiet, and you can hear the commotion in the background. Remembering it’s a Tuesday, and that she must be at work, it only furthers your suspicions. “Who’s dead?”

“Bobby is. They found him. They found his body— but…”

“Karen, tell me.” All you need to hear is Frank wasn’t found. That he got out of there before anyone saw him. It would be your fault— all of it would be your fault if he was found. You needed to get back, you needed—

“Sorry. Sorry, I just thought… with everything that happened before, I thought it might of been you. Bobby’s dead, but… there’s nearly 50 men in the building with him. They’re all dead. And Bobby; he was hardly recognisable. It took them nearly 24 hours to identify him.”

“24 hours?” Frank needed to get out of New York as soon as he killed Bobby. If the police had been crawling around there for nearly a day… “Karen, I gotta go. Thank you for calling.”

You cut it off before she responds, and call the only number saved in your phone. It only rings twice before he answers, and you could nearly cry when you hear his voice.

“Stop fuckin’ ringin’ me, Murdock. I don’t know shit and I’m busy.” He grumbles through the phone, and you choke out something between a laugh and a sob. “Oh, fuck. Sorry— hey, sweetheart. Was just about to call you.”

“It’s… did the— job go okay?” You try to calm your voice as best you can, knowing that if anyone traces the call he’s done for.

“It took me longer than I thought. Had to get stitched up, then Curtis drove me halfway— passed out for most of it.” Before you can ask, he answers. “I’m fine, don’t do that.”

“You’re okay?” Relief floods your body, phone nearly slipping out of your hand with how hard you were gripping it. “Everything’s… everything’s okay?”

“Come see for yourself. I’m pulling up.” Like a kid on Christmas, you toss the phone and basically sprint to the front door, hearing an unfamiliar truck rumble down the isolated street.

He’s driving, clearly having ditched Curtis, but when he gets out he’s got a limp, and his hand is bandaged. You don’t run, instead you stand in the driveway and soak up the image— Frank; leaning against the door of the truck, sunglasses covering up what you have no doubt are black eyes. Alive. Favouring his left side and still with dried blood on his head, but fucking here.  

“You’re hurt.” You say it when you finally reach him, but it sounds pathetic, closer to the tone you’d whimper his name in.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says huskily and reaches out, yanking you forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

The soft touch of his bandaged hand is opposite to the greedy grasp of his free one, the one wrapping around your back and fisting the material of your shirt, pressing so you were flush against him. Both of your hands cup his face, feeling the rough surface of his skin. You lose yourself in the taste of him as your fingers trace the patterns of scars peppering around his head— a constellation you’ve memorised a million times over, and yet it still feels as illuminating as the first.

He groans your name, sliding his hand up to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip. You lean back slightly, staying at close to him as possible. His eyes look you up and down, and there’s a glint in his eye; a hunger that never seems to be satiated when he looks at you. He’s still feverish for it, and it makes your toes curl in your shoes.

“Fuckin’ missed you.” He mumbles against your lips, and it makes you smile against his.

“I can tell.” His other hand forgets it’s injury as he searches your body, gripping your hips and pressing you closer.

“Get Sam. Let’s go home.” He tucks his head lower, mouth kissing under your jaw, and as much as you do want to get the fuck out of here with him, you pull away.

“He’s… he’s staying here.” Frank pushes the sunglasses off his face, looking at you through what is actually only one bruised eye.

“Staying?” You nod. “You sure?”

“I talked to him about it. He fucking loves it here, Frank. He didn’t want me to go again, but you should of seen him with them. They treat him like their own, and he adores them. It’s so much better than anything I could of thought.” Frank wraps his arms around your back and hugs you right, and your eyes flutter closed. “And you can’t just leave. They’re expecting you to come in and say hi.”

“Why?” The way he says it makes you laugh, as if you’d just asked him to drink gasoline.

“Come on.” You tug him by the wrists, and even though he groans and leans on you up the driveway, you both stagger inside and follow the sounds of Sam’s laughter, leaving everything else behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“They were being nice.” You haven’t wiped the smile off your face since you slid into the passenger seat this morning. “Well, I slept great. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“Mhmm.” Frank grumbles, clearing having a much worse sleep than you did.

It was sweet, and truely, you wanted to take them up on it. When Frank dragged himself through the front door of  where Sam had been staying, everyone had nearly jumped on him. Sam couldn’t contain himself, clearly trying to play it cool but simultaneously thinking Frank was the coolest person he’d ever met. It was sweet, the way Frank was with the kids, the sight making you both smile and want to cry.

Either way, when Corinne and Zaed had offered for you both to stay the night, Frank agreed and all but dragged you down the hallway after dinner. The spare room was nice— set up clearly for two people, and you were only human.

It would have been perfect— had the room not been sharing a wall with your brother and his new best friend. A very fucking thin wall. One that was nearly vibrating with how loud they screamed every five minutes playing some game on the TV. The louder they were, the more it became apparent that neither of you would be getting a lot of sleep, and not in the good way.

Having Frank that close all night but not being able to do anything about it reminded you of the start of this whole thing. How you shared a bed with him but had to force yourself to keep your hands to yourself. It was borderline painful, but eventually you managed to drift off to sleep, not missing how hard Franks hands were gripping your hips like he had to physically cement himself to stop from fucking you through the bed.

When you woke up, Frank had all your shit shoved in the car, and was outside cooking pancakes with Sam. You took your time saying goodbye— making sure to thank both Corinne and Zaed properly, and then promising you’ll be back. Soon. ‘So soon you won’t even have time to miss me’ you’d promised Sam, and he grinned and hugged you before disappearing to get ready for school.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Frank looked to you before shifting in his seat, one of his hands resting on your thigh and squeezing.

“Got a stop to make before getting back to New York.”  You’d been driving for a while now— about half way between New York and where you’d left Sam. You turned in your seat, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be cryptic.” You try to sound assertive, but you can’t seem to hold any resentment when you could feel the warmth of him palm on your thigh.

“It’s close, alright? Promise.” The words eased something in your chest, the same way his smile did when he looked at you.

A small silence drifted between you as a Billy Joel song hummed softly on the radio, and your head dropped, eyes tracing over the bruises left on his knuckles. Your fingers dance around them, careful to keep your touches light. You follow the lines of black and blue up over his wrist, watching them disappear under the arm of his jumper. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and when you push up the sleeve just slightly, you swear loudly.

“Fucking hell! Is this broken?” You pull the sleeve up higher, and you tighten your grip on his wrist when he goes to pull away. If you hadn’t watched him so closely, you would of missed the way he winced, and you let go immediately. “Sorry. Sorry— fuck, Frank. Is this all from—“

“I’m fine. Just a couple scratches.” He says, keeping his blackened eyes trained on the road. It would of been easy to miss— not seeing him without clothes since he’d come back. Bile rises in your throat at the thought he was hurt because of you— because he was doing this for you. Suffering for you. Like he has the entire time.

“Are you lying?” He shakes his head, and you lightly poke him in the side. He hissed loudly, flinching away from you and swerving the car. “Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.” Frank groans.

“You’ve been driving for hours, just—“

“It’s fine. We only got a few more miles till—“

“Please.” There must have been something in your voice, some kind of soft vulnerability that even he isn’t used to hearing, and then the car is pulling off the side of an empty highway, dusk rolling over the hood of the truck.

You reach out, pulling the sunglasses off his face to reveal him slowly. This part you’ve seen, but it still knocks the wind out of you. The cut along his cheekbone, not deep enough to need stitches but you know it will scar over. His right eye is a deep purple, the left nearly green. You go to draw your fingers over his face, but hesitate, worried you’ll hurt him. He sees you pulling back and catches your wrist, placing your palm between his cheek and his own hand.

“Don’t do that.” You choke out a laugh, smoothing your hand over and back into his slightly longer hair, pulling him closer over the console of the car.

“I’m not doing anything.” You say softly, something guilty in your voice. When he hears it, he shakes his head at you.

“Can read you like a book. You got nothin’ to do with this, alright?”

“I have nothing to do with it?” You want to laugh. “I’m the reason you were there. The reason all this happened.”

“I would of been in the same place with or without you. This part?” He gestures to himself, his torso that you know all too well is littered with scars. “This isn’t a part you blame yourself for.”

“But it is. My fault.” He opens his mouth but you talk first. “All of this… watching those kids today, watching Sam— all I ever did was put him in danger. And you. It’s better for him to be there, away from all this. Away from me. Maybe now all this is over, it would be better…safer, if you—“

“Stop. I don’t wanna hear that shit. You know how selfish you sound?” You blink a few times, eyes meeting his. At some point he’s leaned even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body thawing you out. “You’re right— I wouldn’t of gone back to New York the past two days if it wasn’t for you. You know why?”

“Listen—“

“No. I wouldn’t of gone back because I would of killed that asshole six months ago and been home in time for dinner. I’ve been doin’ this a long time, and there’s nothin’ you could of done that would of changed how this ended.” He holds your face up to his, rough hands holding you as gently as they could, and his thumb traces the scar just above your eyebrow. “Sam is safe with them, but don’t think for one fuckin’ second he’s better off without you. God knows I’m not. You’ve done nothin’ but good for that kid, and I’d… fucking hell. I’d be dead without you, you know that?”

“No you wouldn’t.” Your voice was so soft it hardly broke the silence, but he leaned in, his forehead pressing to yours. “You could probably jump out of a building and walk it off.”

“Maybe. But now I gotta be careful nd’ come home to you, don’t I?” He smiles, and then kisses you and you forget where you are. Words die on your tongue and are replaced by the taste of him, mind freezing over when he touches you. He does it every time. Every time he manages to take your breath away with one whisper of your name, one swipe of his thumb over your mouth. It’s intoxicating and dependant, something you never thought you’d want, but it feels so good with him. His hands drop to your waist, their pull demanding and needy as he yanks you up and over the centre console and onto his lap.

“I’d do it again. All of it. Kill every single—“ You kiss him again, squeezing your eyes shut, and he groans as you shift on his lap. “Fuck, baby we should wait till…”

“Till when?” You say breathlessly, and despite his words his hands are already sneaking underneath your shirt, his cool hands meeting your feverish skin. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and your hips roll forward again, seeking him out. “I want you now, Frank.”

“Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” He says and then crashes into you, your back nearly pressing against the dash with how quick he moves. Your gasp of surprise is lost in his mouth, and you can feel the sparks he makes in your chest crackling their way through you, toes curling in your shoes.

Your half bent backwards, legs in either side of his as he keeps your chest pressed to him, both arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. You tug at his shirt helplessly, getting it stuck around his arm and he smiles against your mouth, leaning back to look at you before whipping it over his head.

In the dark of the room last night you wouldn’t of seen it, but now the lights streaming in from the car window, and Franks torso is nearly a rainbow in it— blue, purple and green bruises all up his side, with a short but deep cut on the low right side of his abdomen. He’s taken the bandage off it too early, the stitches still healing, but you can tell it’s expert work. Much better than the botched job you did a month or so back, something he still bares the reminders for.

“Just… just a couple scratches, huh?” He grunts something illegible and hauls you back to him.

“Shut up.” He keeps you pressed close, not giving you a chance to say something back, but then his hands dip lower and you’re a goner.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah. Fuck waiting.

He’s got you here— now, on top of him, and he can’t even fucking think of anything else. Your hands are being so gentle and cautious when he really couldn’t care less about the pain, but you do. You always do.

He wasn’t gonna waste another second, and seeing your eyes close the second he got your pants off and dipped his hands between your legs… it’s pretty much as close to heaven as he was going to get.

You fall forward, Frank catching you with one arm and pulling you close while the other continues slow, teasing circles just how he knows gets you all worked up. Your head tucks away into his neck, and he lets you hide for now, but when he’s got you home— real home, then he’ll be able to look at you as much as he god damn wants.

Your hips move against him, chasing his slow rhythm, and he feels your teeth scrape agains this neck, wordlessly rushing him along. 

“You need me that bad?” He says lowly, and watches in awe the way his words wash over you and yank you closer to the edge. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t of left you so needy—“

“Fuckkk… right there—please.” Your voice was so high it cracks a little, and it fucking sets him on fire.

“Get my belt for me, baby.” He whispers, feigning a bit of self control as he watches you quickly fumble with the buckle. The slight brush of your hands could finish him then and there, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to try and remember why he wanted to wait. He had just one more card to play— one that you’d seen him play a few times before, but he doesn’t think you expect it this time, and he needed some semblance of composure to remember it.

A real house, white picket fence and all, smack bang on halfway between New York and Florida. He couldn’t leave New York, not ever, but he had a new anchor now, one that deserved to have it all.

Frank planned to take you straight home. Make a ten hour drive and keep his hands to himself, but how the fuck could he when you were like this? Looking like you do, touching him so fucking sweet and soft and saying how much you missed every part of him— it was a dream come to life, and one of the few moments he’d let himself go in.

You shuffle as close as the seat allows, your now naked chest pressing against his. He dips his head, kissing your jaw, and he’s suddenly surrounded by you. Arms around his neck, warm and soft as your fingers thread in his hair, both of you moan at the feeling of him sliding into you. It’s white hot and nearly painful, how even with the way you’re dripping down your thighs, it still takes you a second to take him all the way. You wriggle your hips, trying to settle yourself and Frank nips at your neck, slowing your pace just slightly. He can hear you sigh, but you listen. You always fucking do.

“Shit— so fucking good. You can take it.” He hums and runs his hands over your skin. You lean into the touch, and when you sigh again he sinks your hips lower, a short punch of your name bursting from his chest when you slam yourself down. “Fuck. There you go.”

He’s a wreck underneath you, and your hands slither away from his hair to his face when you pull him up to kiss you. As much as he loves the feeling of your hips grinding down ever so slightly right now, it’s this part he loves the most. The slow intimacy of it— how he knows he can stay right here for the rest of the day and nothing will change. He can feel how much you love it, how much care you handle him with, and it cracks something old and hard in his gut.

You shudder as he lifts his hips, keeping your mouths together and kissing hungrily. He’d think you’d both been starved for a year the way you two act, but he’d admit it to anyone that asked that he was gone for you. He knows it well and true, in his chest and in the way you bounce in his lap, moaning into his mouth like he’s breathing air into your burning lungs.

“Fuck— fuck, I love you. I fucking… Jesus Christ, you’re so good. I love you.” He can’t shut himself up, and your breath gets faster. He knows you love it when he talks. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you— wanna feel you. I know you want to.”

“Slow… Frank, you’re gonna hurt yourself—“ You suck in a breath and squeeze your eyes shut. His hands stay tight on your hips, and he feels the pleasure buzz under his palms, your skin nearly alight with it on top of him. “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He wraps his forearm around you and fucks you harder, any pain and injury burnt out by how tight you are around him, and how perfect you fit him. He’s close, so close that he’s hardly able to kiss you now. You both collide in a mess of tongues and sighs, and when he hears you croak out his name into his mouth, he knows you’re cumming for him.

He can’t hold himself back, chasing you into that high with blinding abandon. It hits him like a freight train, bowing him over you like he’s taken a hit, but it feels so good he can’t register that he isn’t breathing like this. He keeps kissing you until he’s sure he’s going to pass out, and only stops when you pull away, eyes darting to the highway where headlights slowly flicker on the horizon.

“Shit.” You say breathless, and you laugh. He can feel it, the sound shuddering through him from where he was still deep inside you, and your giggles soon turned to something less innocent when you heard Frank groan into your chest. “C’mon. Someone’ll see us.”

“Don’t move yet.” He puts his hands on your waist, fanning them out to reach as much of you as possible.

“Mhmm.” It’s like your body gives out at his request, slumping forward and moulding into him like you were made to fit this way. This was what he was talking about. The way you fit together— something that should be out of the question for him fits so right. “I love you, too.”

“Mhmm.” He copies and feels you smile against his skin. His hands trail up your spine, tracing the line of bones lightly to leave goosebumps in his wake. “What time is it?”

“Who gives a fuck?” You mumble, the words half muffled into his neck.

“I want you to see the house in the light, but you wanna go at it blind, be my guest.” It takes you a second, a scoff coming out of you before you sit up abruptly, making him groan again.

“House? What house? Another safe house.” Frank couldn’t keep a secret to save his life when it came to you.

“It’s a house. Twenty minute drive from here.”

“But New Yorks not—“

“I know. Good thing we got cars, yeah?” Your eyebrows are crossed together, and Franks thumb slips over the small scar he left on your face. The movement shifts your gaze to something softer, and he feels the brush of your eyelashes on his finger as you blink up at him.

“You did it on purpose. It’s right in the middle.” You say softly. “Jesus, Frank. You didn’t have to… I mean you—“

“Take a breath. I didn’t buy it. Was a gift from the US Goverment. One thing those guys are good for is their money. I just picked the spot.” He could nearly hear the rave of your heart, and you crushed yourself into him, words hushed and mumbled into his ear, but they melt him to the core all the same.

He’ll never get over hearing you say things like this to him. That you’re grateful for him, that he’s doing a good thing. It’s like nothing he did before you was ever good enough. There was always the next job, always the next group to track, but nothing would be enough. There wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for him. But here you were, telling him that he was the reason you were gonna be alright, and if he squints he can see it. The flicker of something hopeful, and if he holds onto you as tight as he can, he might just live to see it light him on fire.

“Did you say… you said twenty minutes from here. Why didn’t we just wait until—“

“Would’ve ruined the surprise.” You laugh again, and the feeling has him gripping you tighter. He leans closer to whisper in your ear, his voice low. “And I wanted to fuck you here and now. Don’t want there to be a single fuckin’ surface where I ain’t had you.”

“Better get driving then, Castle. Sounds like you got a job to do.” The glint in your eye nearly makes him drag you outside and bend you over the hood, but the kiss you give him after is sickeningly sweet, so much so that he lets you slide off him and back into the passenger seat without so much as a nip of his teeth. “Tha–”

“Wait. Wait til you see it.” Frank said, and something about the way he looked at you had you nodding simply, and watching the trees race by as he sped you home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were asleep on the balcony again, and Frank moved as slow as he could to let you stay that way.

In the two weeks you’d been here, he could count on one hand how many times you’d actually slept in the bed. There were no neighbours for miles, nothing interrupting the stretch of sky all the way to the hills. Even Frank had to admit it was a killer view.

He came inside, pouring himself a drink, and a strange pit in his stomach settled after the burning liquid soothed his throat. He can’t seem to kick that feeling when you’re asleep. When you were awake, next to him, there wasn’t anything else he could think about. But alone, walking around a house he owned, a life he might try and live staring him in the face, he felt guilty. There were parts of him he wouldn’t ever get back, but this wasn’t something he thought he’d ever have. Peace and quiet, time to himself. A woman he loved within eyesight, buried under blankets cause she was too stubborn to come inside when it got freezing. He couldn’t figure out why now, of all times, was the time to be thinking of Maria. The weight of the ring around his neck was like an anchor. He knew it was stuck on the bottom of the ocean, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go. He would sit there, hand cut up and bleeding, holding on for dear fucking life if no one moved him, waiting until he drowned.

Your footsteps were soft, in a way that he knows you can’t help. You tread through the open double doors, and Frank would roll his eyes at the way he could hear your teeth chattering if he wasn’t so distracted.

“You should of woke me.” You say, voice muffled from the mess your head was buried under. He took a step toward you, pushing it back so he could see your eyes.

“It’s late.”

“Couldn’t tell.” He can hear the smirk in your voice.

“You finally frozen to death, smart-ass?” You grumble something in reply, and he catches a few curse words before you look at him again. It’s nearly scary, the way you can read him with one sweep of your eyes. You clock his tone, the way he isn’t leaning into you with his full weight, and squint your eyes.

“What is it?” Frank sucks in a long breath, and kisses you.

He’s a complete idiot. That’s what it is. He can feel the buzzing pulse you wake in him, every movement of your lips on his rooting you deeper in his soul, chipping off ice until theres only warmth. How’s he supposed to tell you, after you’ve just kissed him like that, that he was thinking about his–

“You can talk to me about her, Frank.” You say with your head against his. Not it, her. Before he can ask, you smile a little. Even just a hint of that smile and he’s forgetting how to breathe. “You play with the ring when you’re nervous. It’s actually a bit of a tell.”

“Yeah?” He manages, hands trying to search their way through the blankets for you.

“Yeah. You have a lot of tells. For someone in your line of work, it’s actually a bit worrying.”

“You got me all figured out.” He says and means it, but you just roll your eyes.

“And you lean to the left when you think you can’t make a shot. You think it helps your angle.”

“Who woulda thought you were so observant.”

“You know, I actually did watch you when you were teaching me how to shoot.” Frank smiles, your skin finally under his palms. His hands splay on your back, and you lean closer.

“You were trying to fuck me the whole time. Don’t blame me for being surprised.” You try to whack him but your arms are pinned under the layers. Your laughter carries through him, skittering into his chest until he can’t help but laugh too.

“You came onto me.” He laughs harder. “It was very unprofessional. I was there to learn.”

“Damn fucking right I did.” His voice is low, and you shuffle around under his hold until your hands snake up behind his neck. His hair is too long, but he hasn’t cut it just yet. He tells himself that he hasn’t had time, but truthfully he likes the way it feels when you sift your fingers through the ends of it. Like now.

“You can tell me.” You say again, softer. He’s softer too– more malleable now you were here.

“I can’t help it.” He looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to where the sun is now just starting to rise. “She woulda… woulda liked it here. The kids, too.”

“You think so?” He nods, still staring into the orange sky.

“Probably would of had a lot to say about the inside, though.” You wrap around him tighter, head on his chest. “She was so good with those things. She loved when we painted our house. She had all these colors painted next to each other on the wall. All these different kinds of green. Everyone kept sayin’ it all looked the same but she... she could tell the difference. I could see what she meant when she put the couch next to it and shit, you know? She was real good with that stuff.”

“We could use her help around here. This place is sort of… ugly, on the inside.” He laughed again, his throat feeling tighter as he looked around. There was those same colour swatches, but none of them were coordinated like he was remembering. Pinks, blues, oranges and grays were all mixed together in big, sweeping strikes along the wall, stopping right above where your arm would be able to reach. “What would she have gone with?”

He looks down at you, your face washed in the light of the sunrise.

“The light orange. It looks good with the brown.” He nods over to the couch, an old leather one you’d made him pick up off the side of the road.

“We’ll do that one, then.” You tuck yourself under his chin, sighing.

“I think about ‘em everyday. What the kids would have looked like now. What they’d be doing. How Maria and I would of… raised ‘em. I was away all the time, but I just-”

“I think you would have been just fine.” You say into his chest, and Frank takes a shuddering breath.

“Why’s that?“

“Cause she was in love with you.” His chest tightens, and the grip he’s got on your waist gets a little tighter. “I’m… I’ll never be able to fix…that. It’ll always be with you, and nothing will change what happened, but I want you to know that they will always have a place here. You don’t have to apologize for talking about them– the kids, or Maria. I will never, ever not listen, and it will never be something I don’t want to hear. If they’re always with you, they’ll be with me, too.”

Frank takes two steps forward, and your feet pick up just in time to catch yourself before he throws you back on the couch. He’s never been good with words for things like this. He doesn’t think he should try to shove it all in a sentence, either. Not when theres so much he wants to say, but even more he wants to do.

You lay back, and he moves slowly. He wants you to know every move, every brush of his hand and his mouth is by design. He wants to know every square inch of you inside and out like you know him. He wants his hands to pull the strings, letting you hear all the things his mouth could never possibly form.

“Perfect.” Frank sighs against your mouth, over and over again. It was. You were. Are. The pit in his stomach disappears, pushed out and engulfed by the flames in his chest. There was no room for anything, not a single other feeling or word could possibly fit the way you two fit together. Your fingers tug at his shirt, and he takes it over his head. Your hands run and smooth gentle lines over his chest, over the healing wound on his side. It's jagged and wonky, and it nearly spelt your name. Frank thinks it’s the first time he’s looked down at himself and not hated to see the scars.

He unravels you like a gift to himself, savouring every moment even when you try to shrug off the blanket. You hadn’t dressed since last night, and Frank liked it even more this way. You sighed his name, and Frank shuddered, sealing his mouth over yours again. When his eyes opened for a split second, he could see your face, washed in orange light, and your hair swept to the side. He shut his eyes and kissed you again, the image seared into his mind forever.

Frank had faced a lot of bad things in his life. He had been shot, stabbed, pulled apart and put back together more times than he could remember. He thought he’d seen it all, felt it all before, but there was nothing like this. Nothing made him as weak as your fingers in his hair, and nothing made him as strong as the way you moaned his name. Nothing felt as good as sliding inside you, and nothing felt as empty as when you were gone. It made him lightheaded and brought him to the brink of consciousness, but he knew that this was right.

It could of been minutes or hours that had passed when he let himself go, but no amount of time with you under him would stop him from wanting more. The sun was up now, and Frank had you tucked to his side on the small space of the couch, legs tangled together in the blankets and each other. He felt you shiver against him, and the blankets wrapped around you had come loose. He bent to fix them, and when he moved you did it again.

He looked down, seeing the cold line of metal pressed against your bare back. The ring at the end was hanging over your ribs, and when Frank touched it, it was freezing. Holding it in his palm, it didn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and when he read the engraving on the back, he still felt cold.

Looking down at you, how you rolled over and sought him out even with your eyes closed, he leaned down to kiss the scar on your forehead. Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, he slipped the necklace off over his head, and placed it in a neat circle on the coffee table next to his head.

They would always have a place here. But it wasn’t them who gave him warmth anymore.

When he tucked himself back under the covers, he knew it was you. It was always you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tag list

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okay theres going to be an epilogue at some point, but it will probably be small and have very little plot, so this is the end of the main story. so, heres a little rant for you. if you read it, thank you, and if you dont, thank you anyways. knowing anyone is reading my words is a gift enough.

i think i have been writing this series for like 5/6 months ish?? thats fucking wild. i dont have an exact word count, but all i know is its fucking long. i cannot believe i wrote this much about a fictional character, but damn. that is a lot.

basically all i want to say here is thank you. to anyone who has read, interacted, or will read in the future, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it might be a lil dramatic but having people read stuff i write, let alone actually enjoy it makes me so incredibly happy. starting to write on here, and for frank especially, is probably one of the best decisions ive ever made. this series was a struggle to finish for so many reasons, mainly my incredible lack of planning and overall dumb writing schedule, but i have met so many incredible people along the way, and i am just so grateful to have a lil space to share my work.

frank castle will probably always own a giant spot in my heart, so thank you for letting me share my version of him. and letting me add as much smut as i want to this with no complaints bc i fuckin needed it okay!!!!!! i love you all. rant over. series over. damn!

p.s. i am never not going to write frank. dont worry. i already have an idea for my next series lmao!!!!!!!! luv ya!

[rubykgrant]

OK, I still want to re-write and re-arrange most of this (some stuff I want to change, some stuff I just want to make a little less word-y), but I kinda had something decent cooking with this interaction between unconscious Simmons and Sigma... like, hey little dude, you might be PROJECTING something besides the holographic flames for avatar, hmm? Sigma met somebody with- "A streak of pride, a sense of smug indignation. Ripples of jealousy that turn into waves of resentment. An ego, burning with frustration and ambition", and said to himself- "I could fix you, but I actually LOVE what's going on here" (in a good way, Sigma genuinely isn't being an a-hole). Vague backstory is Simmons has recently reunited with his parents and finally realized they suck (he got some character development and did NOT have a good time), and now some bad guys want to scan the brains of everybody came in contact with the Alpha/AI Fragments to try and make more (but with boot-leg equipment, this will kill them). Tex has returned with the actual Fragments, looking for Church, and trying to rescue the others as well

(text from the images below)

Simmons; Alright… you want me to think about getting back to everybody who’s important to me. Sure, that makes sense. I can roll with that

Sigma; No, that isn’t enough. You need to think BIGGER. The people who tricked you all into coming here, they’re going to destroy you. They will delete what they think doesn’t matter, and focus on the parts they think they can use as tools. This will kill who you are now. It will also kill everybody else. It will kill the people who have become your dear friends. It will kill the people who have become more of a family to you than your pathetic parents. It will kill Grif

Simmons; What, are you trying to scare me now?!

Sigma; I’m trying to MOTIVATE YOU. Everything you want is out there, waiting for you, and you can’t let anybody stand in your way. What is happening to you is an insult, an injustice. How DARE these people try to take away your life, when you’ve FINALLY gotten what you deserve? You have respect, you have purpose, you have genuine happiness. What will happen if you can’t get out of this room? Nothing. You’ll have nothing, and you’ll BE nothing. Does that sound good, Simmons?

Simmons; No. It doesn’t (partial illustration of a face, meant to be Simmons, his eyes closed and expression relaxed to mimic sleep)

Sigma; I didn’t think so. Well, look at us, bonding and everything. I’ll be able to help you now. I can tell you exactly what to do, when to dodge and when to strike. I won’t be “taking over your body”, so don’t worry about that… we’ll just be in unison. I can function at a migher capacity than humans, and normally you couldn’t keep up. However, the better connected we are, the easier it will be for me to give you advice. You’ll react much quicker, and they won’t know what hit them. Once you’re in the clear, and I point you in the right direction, I’ll go help somebody else. Perhaps I’ll even find Grif for you

Simmons; Alright, I guess I’m motivated… actually, I’m pretty pissed-off

Sigma; Yes, I can tell. Let’s be sure to aim that energy at the people who put you here

Simmons; I don’t want to kill anybody…

Sigma; We won’t

Simmons; but I want to make them pay

Sigma; We will

Simmons; I can feel my fingers, and my legs… when should I move?

Sigma; Not yet. I’ll tell you when the time comes. Just hold still, relax, keep your breathing even… they think you’re still sleeping. Don’t let yourself fall into a rage, that’s not what we need. Calm and confident, that’s what we need. You are better that these people think you are, you are capable of more than they expect. Think about what you want, and hold on to that feeling… almost ready… almost…

Sic ‘em

(another partial illustration of Simmons’ face, this time his eye opening, with flames as the iris)

Also, later Sigma basically needs to give Simmons a powerpoint presentation about his feelings regarding Grif; somebody had to SPELL. IT. OUT.

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home to Me - Chapter 9

John Egan x OC!Female

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

AN: really sorry for not posting this update sooner. I list my writing mojo and it felt that everything I wrote was terrible and so I would delete it and start again.

AN2: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

The previous chapter can be found here

Sarah had never seen anything quite so beautiful. The clouds whipped around them as they passed by. She felt free, as though there was nothing she couldn’t do, that nothing else mattered.

Hours passed by as the two friends talked things through. Lizzy explained what she could and couldn’t remember. Her revelations completely spun Sarah’s initial belief that Lizzy was originally from the present and had travelled to the past, but in fact that she was originally from the past and had travelled to the future. ‘Everything just makes more sense now!’ Sarah thought, not really knowing how or even if this would help them in any way.

Their conversations were punctuated with moments of awe and questions from Sarah. Was it heavy to fly a full bomber? Did you ever think you were never going to get off the ground? Who had the funniest superstitions? Sarah’s endless questioning ceased as the skyline of Berlin and the cloud came into view. Its huge imposing self blocking most of their field of view. Sarah couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, all of the endless late nights, the phone calls and hours of research, sifting through decades of flight logs, weather reports and declassified missions had led them to this singular point - this ‘thing’ (hopefully) held answers for both of them.

Sarah could feel her heart begin to beat that little bit faster, that little bit harder. Neither of them had any idea what was going to happen when they faced whatever this cloud was. Were they going to be launched too far back in time? Would they be split up and have to find one another? Would it work at all and everything that happened in the last two weeks was all for nothing and they were just flying into a cloud?

Sarah looked over at Lizzy who had started to grow increasingly panicked, despite how calm she was flying. She turned to Sarah, her blue eyes wide asking if her friend saw flak. “Liz, there’s nothing there. It’s all clear.” The tone of her voice betrayed the uncertainty that was starting to set in.

As the bomber became enveloped in the thick dense whips of the cloud, the plane began to violently shake and jolt around. She began to shout about the engines and a fire and how it wasn’t any good and before she could say anything else, Lizzy was back in the present. She was freaked out, telling Sarah that she was seeing people from the past and that she didn’t know how long she would have, giving her best friend the names of people that she knew would look after her if they were split up.

Sarah attempted to reassure Lizzy that everything would be fine, but she had to brace herself against her seat as the bomber continued to jolt and shake despite Lizzy's efforts to keep them steady. The turbulence tossed Sarah around the cockpit like a rag doll, her body slamming around the cockpit.

Clutching her seat and holding on as tightly as she could, Sarah tried to pull the seat up as well as push herself down but it was futile. A violent jolt to the right forced her to let go, smashing her head into the window beside her. Her head now thick and foggy as if the cloud had invaded her brain, making it harder to focus as her vision blurred.

Through the chaos, Sarah watched as her friend started to argue with thin air. Lizzy was gesturing wildly, trying to fight someone off her shoulder. Her eyes wide with pain and terror as she looked up to the invisible person that she was talking to. Her voice, normally so steady, was frantic and desperate.

“I can’t go, Rosie, I can’t move!” Lizzy shouted. “I’ll keep the plane steady and you go!”

Sarah’s vision blurred, her eyelids so heavy. She tried to call out to Lizzy, but her voice was swallowed by the roar of the engines and the turbulence that rattled every bone in her body. She tried so hard to stay conscious, but she could feel it slipping away.

Just before she lost the fight, she saw Lizzy get up, going through the motions of strapping something on and heading for the back of the plane. The sight filled Sarah with a surge of panic. “Lizzy!” she tried to scream, but the words never made it past her lips as darkness closed in, swallowing her whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashes of light streaked across her closed eyes, accompanied by loud, disorienting noises. The sounds were overwhelming, blending into a cacophony that made it impossible to think. Amid the noise, she could hear her name being called repeatedly, a voice trying to reach her through the haze.

“Sarah! Sarah, wake up!”

It took every ounce of strength she had to pry her eyes open. The world around her was a blur, but gradually, a face came into focus. The caring brown eyes of Tattie Spaatz peered down at her with concern.

“Sarah, can you hear me?” Her voice was urgent, her hands gently holding her shoulders.

The groan that came from her was all she could muster in response. The world around her was hazy, sights and sounds melting into a confusing blur. Sarah blinked, trying to focus on the face above her. She struggled to sit up, but the pain in her head made her wince and lie back down.

Sarah looked around from where she lay, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The English countryside stretched out around them, green and serene. They were on a country lane, with its wide dense green hedgerows and tall trees, a military jeep with a very dented bumper stood directly in front of a large imposing oak tree nearby.

Sarah stared at the woman in front of her. “What happened? Where am I?” Sarah asked, her voice weak and uncertain.

“We’re just outside the base. Helen and I were out to fetch some supplies for the club mobile and investigation hut when I saw you and your jeep in the ditch. I sent Helen back in the other jeep to get some help,” Tattie explained, wrapping a blanket around Sarah’s shoulders.

“What on earth were you doing out here anyway? I thought I had told Jean to tell you I was getting the supplies, cos I know you’d wanted to be around for when they all land.”

“Land?” Sarah attempted to sit up again, the pressure in her head making her feel sick. She rubbed the spot she had hit in the bomber. “I don’t remember. Landing? Who’s landing? Where’s Lizzy?”

Tattie frowned. “They’re on a mission. They’re due back any time now. Chick and Red are anxiously pacing around the tower like two mother hens. When Helen comes back with the medics, we’ll get you back to the base and have Smokey check you out.” Before Tattie could ask more questions, another jeep arrived.

“Hey! Oh god, are you doing alright?” Helen asked as she jumped from the jeep, followed by two medics. Checking her vitals and ensuring nothing was broken, they helped Sarah sit up. Nodding weakly at Helen, Sarah moved to wipe her neck as she felt something trickle down behind her ears. Pulling her hands away only to see her fingers cover in blood.

“Oh Sarah, you’re bleeding!” The medics started inspecting around the back of her head, pressing bandages firm to stop the blood.

“Let’s get you back to the base and have Smokey check you out, hey?” The young medic to Sarah’s right scooped her up off the floor in a bridal carry, walking steadily towards the jeep. Tattie climbed in first with Sarah carefully manoeuvring herself into the back, and resting her head on Tattie’s shoulder.

The ride back to Thorpe Abbotts was surreal. The landscape, the buildings, everything seemed like a scene from a movie. Yet it felt strangely familiar, as if she belonged here and then didn’t at the same time.

Dr “Smokey” Gordon, the 100th Group military doctor was a tall, dark haired man with kind eyes and a tobacco pipe somewhere on his person, examined Sarah carefully. Asking all sorts of questions, who was the President, what was the name of the King, what was her name, did she know where she was etc. “You’ve a little bit of memory loss, given the fact you can’t remember why you were in the jeep or what happened to you and you’ve got some nasty bumps. I’m going to admit you so I can keep an eye on you. Let’s get you to a bed and have you rest for a while.”

Sarah sat quietly as the station nurses completed the paperwork, informing Tattie and Helen that she would need to stay overnight. Tattie gently squeezed Sarah’s hand before departing with Helen. Sarah watched them leave, her eyes wide with confusion, as one of the nurses guided her to a bed in the far corner of the ward, away from the recovering soldiers. The area was sectioned off with privacy screens, offering a semblance of solitude.

As they walked by, a young man with bright green eyes and a head of dark brown hair raised his bandaged hand to wave at her. "Hey, Sarah!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with happiness. It was clear he was delighted to see her, though Sarah had no idea who he was.

"Oh, hi. How are you?" she responded hesitantly, her uncertainty evident. The nurse leading the way slowed down to accommodate the young man's enthusiasm.

"Lt. Kraft. I see you’re feeling much better today," the nurse commented with a smile. The lieutenant beamed at Sarah, his grin wide and infectious. "Sure am, especially when my favourite English girl swings by to say hello!"

Sarah could feel the awkwardness rising within her. She had no recollection of this man and was afraid of saying something wrong. Before she could respond, the nurse stepped. “Well, unfortunately for you, Miss Taylor isn’t here to see you. I suggest you get your rest Peter, it’ll help heal your hands.” With that Sarah and the nurse left Peter gnawing at the itch that was the centre of his palm.

“Dr Gordon wants you in the hospital overnight for observation given the fact you've hit your head. I asked Miss Spaatz to bring you some clothes and some of your things.” Sarah nodded absentmindedly, not really knowing what was going on.

With the nurse leaving her alone, Sarah stood in front of the neatly made bed, not really knowing what to do. She remembered who she was and where she had come from but the bump on her head had made things that little bit more difficult to think about.

She ran her fingers over a well read version of The Hobbit that was sitting on the bedside table. She had loved the films when they had come out and then she had read the book and fallen further in love with the story, it seems that her past self had the same feeling.

There was a three window silver photo frame sitting at the back of the table. Taking it delicately in her hands, Sarah studied the photos staring back at her. The idea of her living here in this time was confounding. Was 1940s Sarah happier than she was in the future? Did she like the same foods? Did Cadburys chocolate taste the same?

Tracing her fingers over the intricate detail of the frame, the photos presenting a snapshot of the life that she was now living. The first photograph showed her dressed in British Red Cross uniform standing in front of her parents. Her dad dressed in an officer's army uniform with his cap under one arm and the other tucked around her mum’s waist, who looked amazing in a nurse’s uniform. “Sorry mum, they didn’t have female paediatric surgeons in the 40s,” Sarah thought.

The next photo showed her with three tall, presumably older, boys who were also dressed in neatly pressed army uniforms, each of them looking very smart. “We’re the real-life Brady Bunch!”.

Carefully taking the photo out of the frame, Sarah hoped for names on the back. Thankfully, each of their names, ranks and regiments were noted on the back. Thomas who was standing to Sarah’s left, was a Sergeant in the 1st Royal Tank Regiment, Heavy Armoured Brigade; Stanley, standing to Sarah’s right, was a Sergeant in the 4th Battalion Coldstream Guards; and Sydney, the tallest but youngest of the three boys, was a Corporal in the 4th Royal Tank Regiment.

Studying the photo, she could see how similar and yet different they all were. Although the three men were just faces in a frame, she felt a deep rooted need to keep them safe.

The final photo showed her and Lizzy in front of the control tower. They were laughing and smiling whilst holding onto each other, something having been said that set them both off into laughing hysterics. Lizzy, like the photograph Abigail had given her at the tower, was wearing her Royal Air Force blue uniform. Her smile was infectious. She was truly the definition of a best friend.

Pulling the contents out of her pockets, Sarah looked over the collection of money, her note book, a pen and the envelope that had contained the flight plans and a letter.

Taking a seat on the bed, Sarah unfolded the letter.

Dear Sarah

I hope you’re safe and well.

I want to apologise. I know you’re not going to be pleased with our, my, involvement again. But please allow me to explain, as much as I can, so that you know I'm only here to help.

You are such an important person in my life (I know you want to know how and why, and as much as I want to, I can’t tell you) and because of that, I agreed to travel to England to give you the photograph, nudge you in the right direction when it came to Lizzy and to also help secure the flight plan so that you were able to fly to Berlin.

The fact that your last minute flight plan wasn’t challenged was also my doing as the plane that Lizzy was flying was owned by my family (and yes, I knew when we met at the pub that getting Lizzy in a plane was the way forward) and I knew what you were planning too - I think it’s called stealing or as I was told by my grandfather strategically transferring equipment to alternate locations!!

I have been asked to remind you to look after Lizzy when it happens (I’m told that you will know what this means) and to not let her do any “stupid shit” and I’m also to mention that only certain people can write letters to loved ones who are in trouble (I have no idea what this means, so I hope you do).

Please be safe and hopefully I will be able to explain one day.

All my love

Abigail

Exasperated, Sarah tucked the letter back into its envelope and placed it on the bedside table. She felt angry that Abigail knew all about this, enough to be in England (and own a working B-17) but couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her. The cryptic messages offered no real answers. Of course I’m going to look after Lizzy!

But instead only provided her with more questions. A sudden and overwhelming sense of being in over her head washed over her. Here she was in the past, on her own and injured which was something she hadn’t counted for. Her mind raced as the enormity of the situation hit her full force. She had no idea where Lizzy was, what day or even what year it was. She hadn’t found Jack or Crosby as Lizzy had told her to, and now she was expected to protect Lizzy from some vague, looming danger she didn’t understand. The feeling of being lost, misplaced, and wildly out of her depth crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the panic rising, threatening to engulf her. Everything felt surreal and out of control. She was a stranger in this time, grappling with a mission she barely understood. The fresh, crisp hospital pillows looked calm and inviting, a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind. Despite the head injury, and realising that it probably wasn’t the best idea to sleep, but needing respite from the overwhelming confusion and fear, Sarah allowed herself to curl up onto the bed and before her head could fully rest on the pillow, she was sound asleep, her body giving in to the exhaustion and stress of the day.

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @thedeviltohisangel @instructionsnotincluded @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @luminouslywriting

[arxxq]

«𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒? 𝐍𝐀𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐒/𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒»

╰┈➤ ❝ [no way in hell will I ever fall for him/her!!] ❞

This is Itoshi Sae version

this was originally the collaboration with @asukasjinji​. srry for tagging you btw. 

also to those who sent request to me in my ask box (for the other collaboration...), i am so so sorry because i accidentally deleted everything in my inbox. i do remember some of the characters that were requested so with that i’ll try to make up for it by picking a prompt that is suitable with the character chosen. 

but if you still want what you originally request...i won’t forbid you from requesting once again.

i am very very sorry...i wanted to post this because i just felt like it. and if you have took noticed, i write based on what comes in my head and all of a sudden i have the motivation and ideas to continues this. 

Warnings: tons of swearing,

female reader 

lowercase intended 

mistakes will be fixed once i reread. 

•

Itoshi Sae, people absolutely love him, adore him but you? No you did not like him. Not a part of you even did. No matter how lucky, talented or intelligent he was, you never liked him. You hated him, you despised him, you disliked him. Anything to do with the word hate you used it on him.

You won't lie, he is attractive yes but he's not a 10 in your book. Your type was mostly for guys who had, the brains, the looks and the personality. Sae had all that except for the personality.

Same goes for sae. He does not like you at all. To tell the truth you had the looks, the intellect, and the talent as well but your personality just wasn't it. Not for him no.

So each and every day, the school will get to hear the daily dose of you and sae bickering, throwing insults. Sometimes even breaking eachother's properties or even anything that can be humiliating to the other.

The only time you had to work out was when you had to work with him along with others in a group or just you and him being partnered only for the sake of both of your grades. I mean you can't fail and neither can he. but some people would say the two of you make a good team since you two are practically unbeatable to them. 

It was finally the day of the trip. You weren't really looking forward for it, no you didn't really want to go but your mother along with you're "friends" wanted you to go and knowing how stubborn your mother and your "friends" are you just agreed.

Now here you are in a room finally getting to relax until you realized that you were paired up with him. "This has to be some sort of mistake..." You mumbled.

"It has to be, roommates are supposed to be with the same gender," you sighed. "I'll call the teacher, and while I'm on the phone I expect silence,"

When he turned his back you mocked him. Did he think you were dumb? Of course you were going to say silent, like what is there to say? You scoffed.

When the call ended, sae groaned out of frustration which by that you can tell it wasn't going to be anything good. "It seems like there was an odd number of guys and girls and we just got paired up by a random chance,"

"You've gotta be kidding me...," You muttered in disbelief. "For once trust me cause I'm not fucking around this time l/n,"

Now this was way worst, not only did you want to be here in Yokohama, but now you were also going to be roommates with the one you absolutely abhore so much.

"by the way you do know there's only one bed right, I'm taking it." He says. "Fuck no! Have you ever heard of first come first serve itoshi?" You asked. Sae looked at you in what morphed like disgust.

"that's ridiculous, what are you? A 5 year old?" Sae mocked you. He then continued to sigh. "Why not this...heads or tails?" He suggested then continued to pull out a coin from his pocket.  

you gasped in disbelief. “how do I know you’re going to even play fair? for all i know you could probably have a trick to land on heads or tails?!” Sae groaned. “you know what? yeah maybe i do have a trick to land on heads or tail, god just call it already,” “fine then heads,”

Sae then proceeded to flip the coin, and it seems like luck chose his side you obviously lost. now here you are sleeping on the goddamn floor. yes you tried sleeping on the sofa but unfortunately it wasn’t comfortable and the floor, wasn’t comfy as well but at least you have more space then the sofa did. but why were you still awake. well maybe because you could not sleep. not many people knew you had insomnia...well more of no one knew about it.

so here you are now in the kitchen eating something. “what the fuck are you up this late?” asked a hoarse voice that startled you. you look to the direction of where the voice came from and it was none other than sae. he looked like he just woke up since his hair was well not neat as you always see it as, and his voice like mentioned was hoarse.

“why do you care,” you answered with a obvious tired voice. sae sighed in return and sat down across from you. “I’m not that big of an asshole, and I don’t really see anything wrong in being concerned of my roommate,” you groaned. Sae sat down on the seat across from you. He proceeds to raise a brow at you awaiting for a response to his previous question.

“i have sleeping problems...” you mumbled. but unfortunate to you, sae heard it as muffled noises. “come again?” “i have sleeping problems...” this time he heard you. it was silent for a while so you felt hesitant to say something else. “look if you plan to make fun of me go ahea-,” “do you perhaps want to rant about it..?” he cut you off with the most rarest yet shocking question. you look at him wide eyed while he looked at you with a questioning look. 

“everytime i sleep...i just somehow get nightmares all the time, so sometimes i usually end up pulling an all nighter,” you held in you’re breathe quite hesitant to tell him. it seems like sae noticed your discomfort. “look l/n if you feel uncomfortable to open up its fine...just tell me what makes you fall asleep without having nightmares and i’ll think of something.” 

hearing him said that for some reason reassured you. “well usually my little sister would manage to make me fall asleep..cause her cuddling me while she’s asleep just reassures me and i end up falling asleep,” you muttered knowing sae was going to tease you or laughed at you. 

but little did you know, you didn’t notice sae standing up and went behind you. you were brought back out of space when you realized sae had carried you over his shoulders. “the hell you doing?! put me down this instant itoshi,” you hissed at him “can you please stop squirming? i’m trying to help you here,” he grumbled. knowing you can’t escape you instead just gave up and let him do his thing. 

you closed your eyes only due to exhaustion but you weren’t going to asleep. suddenly you felt yourself being tucked in. you opened your eyes to see that sae had tucked you in the bed he had won over. another thing you didn’t expect was to feel a pair of arms draped over your figure to embrace you. as much as you don’t want to admit...it did feel comforting. it did feel embarrassing but the warmth comfort he was giving you was slowly making you fall asleep.

“what are you doing?” you whispered. “you said the comfort of an embrace makes you fall asleep..i’m just doing what you said..” his voiced was quite muffled but you could hear it clearly. “also you better keep you’re mouth shut about this..” you laughed softly. “my lips are sealed prodigy,” “believe me when i say this will be the only time i’ll be nice you you...and you also owe me,” you look behind to take a glimpse of sae. you sighed. “i guess i do owe you..”  you slowly closed you’re eyes...and before you fully fall asleep you heard something you will never forget for sure. 

“sleep well l/n..” 

•

It was officially day one. Today our teachers just told us that we'll go sight seeing in groups...but let's not forget that there's and odd numbers of guys and girls. Because of that lets just keep it short and say that you and sae got paired up while others had groups. Why? Honestly you don't know, it was the teachers after all and because of that...all eyes are on you two.

So now here you and sae are walking in the streets while holding a brochure of places to visit in yokohama. It was quite awkward since after all you don't really know what to say.

"if you keep spacing off, you might actually hit your head on a pole," sae spoke. You scoffed at him. "I'd actually rather get hit by a pole then walk with you right now.."

"so where'd you like to go?" He asked. "I thought you told me that my opinion does not matter, remember itoshi?" Sae rolled his eyes. "Don't use my words against me l/n...just where'd you rather go?" He then gave you the brochure so you can take a look at it.

"well there's a lot of interesting places..." You mumbled. "Just pick the one that catches your eye," he says. “well we’re not technically around the teachers soo...” sae looked at you and he could see the clear mischievous smile you had. “what is it that you’re planning L/n..?”  

“well i thought maybe we could just sit down and get to know each other in a nearby caffe,” sae looked at you and rose a brow. “that is weird of you to suggest but i’m not really against it,” 

“great lets get going then!” 

-

now here you and sae were, in an ordinary caffe. it wasn’t too crowded which was just perfect. the atmosphere itself was calming. the two of you had already sat down with the drinks and desserts. but it was quite awkward since you two seemed like you didn’t know where to start. 

“did you drag me here to get to know me or was it to drain your own money on food?” you glared at him. “oh please itoshi of course i didn’t--” “sae,” 

‘huh?’ you thought. sae saw that you were clearly confused so he spoke up. “you want to get to know me right? then start off by addresing me by my first name,” your cheeks were starting to look pink. why the hell was it turning pink? is what you complained in your head. “oh yeah alright ito-i mean sae,” 

you swore your ears were deceiving you as well. you did not just hear the itoshi sae chuckle. “so where would you like to start hmm miss y/n?” you knew he was trying to tease you and he successfully did. 

‘oh i am so getting you back for this..”  

i just wanted to post this. and the again to those who had sent the prompt request in my ask box i am so so sorry. i know i say sorry too much. 

reblogs are highly appreciated 

do not steal or copy my works....

[hetalia-club]

I’m going to vent some more about my ex because it’s good therapy lol

Feel free to keep scrolling.

Lol so remember my terrible abusive ex I broke up with last month that I vented on here about? Two years ago I made a reddit post on AITH because we got into this argument about eating thanksgiving at each others families houses and how he would get mad at me when I wouldn't eat a huge meal at his family's house but then he didn't eat at my families house (Which is honestly such a shame because my family's food is gas) and I also make some of the food at our thanksgiving so by the time I would get there to eat I wouldn't be hungry because I had just been guilted into eating a full plate an hour before.

I deleted the post because it blew up like crazy and everyone was calling him controlling and abusive and I was thinking "that seems a little much for a thanksgiving argument" I was getting a bunch of DMs of people telling me I needed to dump him and that if I needed help I could go to a clinic and I was just like "Tf are these people talking about!? This was just an argument about thanksgiving food…" I just think it's funny the answers were right there in front of me of thousands of strangers telling me I was in an abusive relationship and I ignored it. You truly don't know what it's like to be in a relationship like that until you're in one. You will convince yourself everything is fine and that everyone else is crazy for thinking that he's crazy. Just look at some of these comments lol

this is just a few of them. I remembered this post and decided to go back and re-read the comments after recognizing that he was abusive. I remember defending him so hard in my DMs being like “no you don’t understand you got him all wrong” turns out they had him all right lol and I was the delusional one. I’ve been doing along of self reflection and what not lately I’ve been trying to ever who I was before we got together because I feel like I was a different person. Less of a people pleaser, less emotional, less worried about what others think of me. I’m having to re-write my brain chemistry I feel. I still have to stop myself because I will ask myself “does ‘ex’ like when I do this?” And I have to remind myself it doesn’t matter what he likes anymore.

When we lived together he would insist i did all the cooking which is fine because I’m good at cooking. But the thing is I can actually only cook Italian American food, the reason for that is because it’s my favorite food and it’s all I ever want to eat. So it’s the only thing I make that’s any good. Because you know… it’s what i like so it’s what I make. Well about 2 years into our relationship he decides he’s going on a no carb diet. Which was an issue because I am on an all carb diet lol… I made food as normal for awhile and then one day he just went absolutely ballistic because he said I was abusing him because I wasn’t respecting his diet because I kept making pasta, which I wasn’t making pasta every day obviously… I didn’t make Italian every day but at least 2 times a week. but on this particular day I had made some kind of pasta but I had made him zucchini noodles, I even went out and bought a little thing to shred them with that day. It was probaly chicken parm because I eat that at least once a week. I once went three weeks with eating chicken parm every day and it was heaven . But apparently he didn’t like them and instead of being rational and just saying he didn’t like them he decided to have a toddler level fit because he didn’t what what I made. I was just like “okay then don’t eat it l…” he proceeded to not speak to me for three days and he even shoulder checked me in the hall way when he walked past me and it had me seeing red. So ever since then when I would make pasta I would make him a separate dinner which was so annoying. Because like he’s a grown fucking man… I shouldn’t have to make him a separate dinner it’s not my fault he decided to go on a no carb diet for no reason probably just to try and get me to stop making pasta which he never really liked (this was huge red flag and I should have known it would never work) he should have to deal with that himself I’m not his mom or his wife so i shouldn’t have just been like “okay learn how to cook then man child” but I’m too nice of a person and the guilt would have made me lose sleep. Because he would have just eaten cheese and lunch meat like a dumb ass because if I didn’t cook for him that’s what he would eat because he was an ACTUAL man child and couldn’t cook anything but scrambled eggs even then he wouldn’t use grease or butter so they would just fuse with the pan and I had to scrub it off because he would just put it in the dishwasher as if that was going to do anything.

One time I had made like a vegan butternut squash soup because he likes butternut squash, I don’t I think it’s gnarly. I even whipped out an emulsion blender for it, real fancy like. Well he decided he wanted chicken with it for some unknown reason even though HE requested it for dinner so he knew no meat was involved. so he decided to throw a frozen chicken tender into a pan and he cooked it until it was trawled and that shit was like not even close to cooked and he was going to eat it so I had to stop eating, get up and recook his chicken because he would have given himself food poisoning. I didn’t even get so much of a thank you for possible saving his stupid life and he just ate it and left the pan with burnt bits for me to scrub because he again didn’t oil the pan so the chicken stuck to it and burnt onto the pan.

You may read this and think “omg how do you not realize this is abuse” well that’s because that was just how I lived for 5 years. It had gotten normal I understood how he was and he always told me “this is just how I am” so I figured “who would I be to change him if that’s his personality?” Now I do truly believe that is his real personality and he’ll never change. Mostly because when we broke up he straight told me “this is how I am I’m not changing for you or anyone” like it was something to be proud of. He truly believes the break up is something that can be reversed. I’m not sure if he even thinks we’re still broken up if that makes sense. He texted me as asked me if I wanted to go out to diner and I was like “lol no?” And he was like “I miss you though don’t you miss me?” And I was like “lol…no?” Like what is there to miss my guy? Like of course you miss me I did everything for you. I knew the second he realized “oh shit now I have to clean and cook?” he would want me back. I called it. I knew it was coming. It was a lot sooner than I expected tbh though…