#I just!! love m/f friendships fight me

[stardoomed-if]

Stardoomed is an 18+ drama/romance interactive fiction novel set in Los Angeles. Focus on relationships and avoid falling into bad habits; the road to fame is more filled with pitfalls than you ever imagined.

When destiny leads you, a newcomer to the world of K-pop, to become the last member selected for the most anticipated new group, Next Gen, the journey to fame seems like a dream come true. But behind the bright lights and smiles on stage, dark secrets and overwhelming challenges lurk.

Each member of Next Gen faces their own demons as they struggle to stay afloat in a world that loves and hates them in equal measure, a world to which you now belong. You'll be drawn into a whirlwind of drama, romance, and friendship as you navigate the complexities of life as a new idol.

With the fate of the group and your own career at stake, you'll have to make tough decisions, face your deepest fears, and discover what it truly means to achieve greatness in a world where success can be as fleeting as a star.

Are you ready to live the dream?

CW: explicit language, sexual themes, discrimination (homophobia, transphobia, racism), substance abuse, non explicit violence.

✦ Play as a male, female, straight or queer, question your gender, and challenge the world for something you didn't choose.

✦ Full customization: personality, appearance, style, nationality, and just like in real life, be judged by how you look.

✦ Choose your role in the group, are you a dancer or a rapper? perhaps a talented singer? or maybe... nothing.

✦ Become part of one of the most promising K-pop groups of the decade.

✦ Face the true face of the industry.

✦ Succeed as an idol or pursue your true dream, be a painter, an actor, a CEO—the choice is yours.

✦ Fight against your projective mother to regain control of your life or give in to her whims for a bit of her affection.

✦ Embark on a forbidden romance with one of your three group mates or the company staff, either way, they'll fire you when they find out.

✦ Meaningful decisions. Here, everything matters, even your weight, unfortunately.

✦ Choose between your mental health or stardom.

✦ THE MAIN CHARACTER

The fourth and final member of Next Gen seems to be more about luck than talent. Insecure, repressed, and with questionable mental health, they will need to learn to put themselves first and take control of their own life, even if it means destroying the almost nonexistent relationship with their mother.

✦ NIKO / NIKA ROMANOV [ro; m/f] see more

One of the choreographers at HYPE. Contrasting with their rough appearance and tattoos, they are a kind and warm person who, although their smile never fades, carries the weight of their past with them.

"Leave it all behind."

✦ HANNY / HANNAH SONG [ro; m/f] see more

Talented beauty blogger and one of the main makeup artists at HYPE. Cheerful, shy, introverted, and full of colors, they are as beautiful on the inside as they are on the outside. It's a pity they don't think the same.

"There's always a reason to be grateful."

✦ DEVON DILLARD [ro; non-binary] see more

A music producer at HYPE, with a distinctive style and incomparable talent, they have broken barriers and more than a dozen hearts. A free soul is what they are, and all they want is to have fun. Although you are increasingly convinced that everything is a facade.

"I'm too sober for this shit."

✦ JIHOON / JIWOO CHO [ro; mcs gender] see more

The charming vocalist and center of Next Gen. Charismatic and with an incredible sense of fashion, they have risen and made a mark in the industry. However, fame has its price, and forgetting who they are was what they had to pay.

"I dress to impress me."

✦ NIRA [ro; mcs gender] see more

Perfectionist is an understatement. Leader of Next Gen and main dancer, Nira is as demanding as they are talented. Some call them a prodigy, and yet it has never been enough. Perfection doesn't exist; that's something they soon have to face.

"My only competition is my potential."

✦ DANIEL / DANIELLE HAN [ro; mcs gender] see more

As outgoing and affectionate as a Husky, Dani is the main rapper of Next Gen. A streamer and gamer turned idol, not a bad combination… right? Well, it seems that things aren't so fun with a contract involved.

"My life is full of exciting possibilities."

DEMO [TBD August-September] | COG FORUM TBA |

[luxurychristmaspudding]

On Call | On Call

part ii

summary: sometimes, frankie wonders what he'd do without you. without your help, your laughter, your friendship, the lunches you pack him. and sometimes, when he's alone, he wonders what he'd do with you.

pairing: neighbour!frankie x f!babysitter!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. idiots in love, reader is good with kids. reader and frankie are both bi and have same sex exes. if that’s a problem for you, keep scrolling. fluff, plenty smutty thoughts, f&m masturbation. mentions of grief/dead parent, heartbreak, and biphobia/homophobia. brief competency kink, makin' a man some lunch (in a neighbourly way). drinking.

reader is a teacher, has hair, and there are some descriptions of outfits, but she is otherwise a blank slate :)

wc: 13.1k (normal length fic, my ass)

an: eternal love to @schnarfer for being a constant guiding light and the most wonderful friend. and further eternal love to @din-jarring and @toomanytookas who each make every day a little sunnier.

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

She said call me now baby and I'd come a running If you'd call me now baby I'd come running

- on call, kings of leon

series masterlist | main masterlist

When Frankie gets home Thursday night, weeks later, you’re working at his dining table.

He checks his watch as he closes the front door gently behind him, looking back at the glimpse of you in the kitchen, brows furrowed. It’s late. Surely you should be in front of the TV, fighting sleep.

His footsteps are quiet down the hall, and he pauses in the doorway. You glance up at his soft hey, and he can feel how tired you are.

‘Hey, buddy.’

Your smile is quiet, kind. You watch as he moves to the sink, collecting two glasses, filling them with water.

‘How’d it go?’

You say it at the same time, and it breaks some of the stillness, both pairs of lips lifting in mirrored grins. 

‘Good,’ he says, ‘Glad to be home.’

He moves closer and takes a sip from his water, placing yours next to you, gesturing for you to go next.

‘Fine. Totally fine. She was out like a light after the second read. Best kid ever.’

You take a gulp of your water as he raises his eyebrows.

‘Second?’

Mhm.

‘I usually have to do at least four.’

You giggle, fluttering your fingers at him.

‘Magic touch,’ you whisper, ‘Plenty of practice reading kids to sleep.’

He shakes his head at you.

‘That’s not true.’

‘Mm. I’m sure my ninth graders would disagree.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, sitting down heavily next to you. He rubs his face, huffs a deep yawn as he slouches further down into the seat. You try not to stare, but he just looks so soft. You want to wrap him up in a blanket and lead him up to bed. Lay him down and press kisses to his cheeks.

‘She drew this,’ you say, pulling out a sheet of paper from beneath your piles of books. ‘Personally, I think it’s a good likeness.’

He laughs, properly, as he takes in the flourish of crayon across the page. It’s obvious where you’ve helped her - sketching the outlines of people, houses - and obvious where she took over - a mess of scribbles, rainbows of colour. The two houses, the fence, him and Lucia - Papi and me - and then the colourful tangle of you next door - Bug.

He traces the lines with his finger, gaze softening, heart swelling in his chest.

‘She hold you up, doing this?’

You smile at him, shaking your head. You fumble below the books again, pulling out a second sheet.

‘No. Looked so cute I drew one myself.’

You watch Frankie’s eyes light as he takes in your drawing. His and Lucia’s curls, the books under your arm, the oversized caterpillar in the grass. A tidier version of Lucia’s, one where you’re stood closer together. Like a family. 

He bites his lip, a sparkling swell of joy flooding his chest.

‘Masterpiece.’ He says. You shake your head at him, bashful. ‘Wanna put it on my fridge.’

You scoff at him.

‘Put Luc’s on the fridge.’

He holds your drawing away from you, pushing Luc’s over your papers.

‘Put Luc’s on your fridge,’ he says, ‘And I’ll keep this one. Deal?’

You suck your teeth, grinning.

‘Deal.’

He stands from the table, moving further into the kitchen. When he reaches the fridge, he takes an alligator magnet and pins your drawing to the metal. He steps back, folding his arms. You watch him.

‘Perfect.’ He says. You giggle.

‘You’re a soft bastard, Frankie Morales.’

He laughs, turning back to face you. 

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

You hold out your pinky, and he links it with his.

‘Promise.’

The heat from his hand, so close to yours, is almost irresistible. Your chest heats, and you want to pull him closer, see if he’s that warm everywhere. 

You drop his hand, standing on heavy legs. Your I should get going is muffled through a yawn, and he nods, helping you to gather your things. When you’re ready, he follows you to the door. 

This time, he pulls you into his chest. And he is warm, warm all over, and you could sleep here, suddenly, wrapped in his arms.

‘Goodnight, baby.’ he says, as you step out of his house.

He’s warm, and he’s so sweet. Baby, baby, baby running through your head as you make your way across the grass, smiling to yourself, still smiling when you turn on your porch, facing him stood on his own. Half of his body dimly lit by the glow within his house, shadows across his face as he makes sure you unlock the door and turn the light on safely. You raise an arm to him, and he does the same. You turn it into a flash of your middle finger, and he does the same - grinning to himself at the sound of your giggle across the lawn, cut off only as you close your door behind you. Goodnight, baby.

It still echoes in your mind as you’re pulled from the silken depths of sleep on Saturday morning by the whirring of a lawn mower. You huff, grumble, roll onto your back and press your forearm against your eyes. You have no idea what time it is, but you know for sure that it is too early for whatever this shit is.

Through the dim light behind your arm, you grimace. Your toes are a little cold, body achy like it needs to be stretched out. All fixed with more time spent asleep, except the buzz from outside comes louder now, more incessant. You roll yourself sideways, squinting in the sharper light coming from the window, mumbling to yourself as you sit and push up off the mattress. When you shuffle to the window and pull the curtain aside, you’re surprised. Frankie is up and out already - his front lawn cut into neat stripes - and now he’s gliding up and down yours doing the same. T-shirt clinging to his body, arms and neck shining with sweat. Cap on to keep the sun from his eyes, the curls at the base of his neck damp and dripping. He’s a sight.

 And there’s something about the way he does it, how easy he makes it look. The stripes, the handling of the machine. How he changes the oil of your car, how he can change the tire on his. The way he drives, hand at your headrest when reversing. How he lifts Lucia, how he chops and slices while cooking. So goddamn easy, brow barely even knotted, just his thick fingers working through any problem they come across.

Heat stirs in your cunt.

It’s not that you haven’t thought about it. Him. It’s just that doing so feels… weird. You try not to have detailed fantasies about your best friend next door, feeling disingenuous when you call your good mornings, but certain flashes of thoughts just aren’t so easy to ignore. Stupid ones, like licking his skin when he’s covered in grease, him eating you out over the bed of your truck. Stupid ones like him knocking on your door when he’s done with the grass, coming in to find you reaching for something at the perfect angle in a little summer dress. Thoughts like him bending you over the counter and fucking you stupid, sweat mixing on your skin, the smell of grass flooding your head, tits bouncing in his hands.

Idle thoughts. 

Ones that have you flopped back onto your bed, legs spread, one hand between your slick folds as you work yourself. Moaning and gasping into the heat of the morning, brief flashes of Frankie bursting behind your eyelids. The glimpse of skin and coarse hair you’ve seen when he reaches up to lift something, the shy look he gives you from below his lashes. How soft his mouth looks - what it would feel like on yours, what it would feel like to have him whisper against your thighs right now, telling you how pretty you look, watching your hands before he catches them in his and replaces them with his tongue.

It doesn’t take long before you’re cresting in an easy, all-consuming orgasm. Your back arches against the mattress, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt flutters and pulses, fresh slick gushing from between your fingers. Your thighs twitch as your circles ease, heart beat slowing in its thrumming as you swallow and pant. The mower is still whirring outside. He must be nearly done.

Frankie cuts the machine as he trims the very last patch of your grass to a lighter shade of green.

He peels his shirt away from his skin, flapping it in an effort to cool down. The cap comes off next, one hand swiped across his forehead, the other running air through his damp curls.

It’s warm. Unseasonably warm, and if he had any sense he wouldn’t have cut any grass today. But this Saturday suited him, and once he’s done his lawn, he may as well do yours. You don’t accept nearly as much as you should for looking after Lucia, so he’s taken to sneaking in more favours when he can. An oil change, lightbulbs you can’t reach, an Ikea chair you couldn’t find the time to set up. He knows you’ve noticed. Scowling slightly at how you can’t say no, quick to find a way to repay him. It’s become a welcome game of tag over the last six weeks. You won’t be outdone. In fact, if Frankie was a betting man -

‘Gotcha something.’

When he turns his gaze from the street, squinting slightly, he finds you bounding towards him. Barefoot, glowing with the remnants of sleep, and fucking poured into the most sinful sundress he’s ever seen. Like a teenager, he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, and he scolds himself for it.

‘It’s hot out.’ You grin, holding out a tall glass of something clinking with ice. His own answering smile speaks something of his relief, his gratitude.

‘Sure is.’

He takes the glass from you, giving it a sniff. You roll your eyes.

‘It’s lemonade. I’m not trying to poison you.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Yet, anyway.’

He nods, as though you’ve confirmed what he’s long suspected.

‘’S the thought that counts. I don’t get a straw?’

You smack his bicep with the back of your hand as he takes a sip.

‘Dick,’ you grin, ‘I’ll piss in it next time.’

Frankie’s eyebrows shoot up, but he manages to swallow without spluttering it all over you. He considers for a moment, clearing his throat.

‘Nice piss.’

Your mouth pops open, feigning disgust.

‘I said next time, freak.’

He laughs, flashing you a cheesy wink.

‘You love it really.’

You giggle, spinning on your toes like a schoolgirl. He laughs with you, sipping the lemonade, eyes crinkly and affectionate, tracing your lips, the hem of your skirt.

You look up and down the lawn, impressed with his craft. Quiet satisfaction blooms in Frankie’s gut.

‘Looks great,’ you say, pressing his arm. ‘Thank you. You know, you don’t have to do this.’ 

He shrugs.

‘Was out here anyway. Just helping my favourite neighbour.’

You chuckle.

‘Whatever. But you still don’t have to.’

‘Fine,’ he says, pulling a face. ‘I’ll never, ever do it again. I’ll leave you to mow your own lawn, build your own furniture, set your car on fire…’

‘I’m not that bad,’ you laugh, giddy as you step around him. 

‘Bug,’ he says, fixing you in place with a firm hand on each of your shoulders. ‘Baby. I’m not convinced you even know what a wrench is.’

You gasp, genuinely offended this time, and he laughs.

‘Of course I know what a fucking wrench is, asshole. I’ll give you a fucking wrench.’

He laughs harder, and you reach up to swipe his sweaty cap from his head. Before he can grab at it, you’re off, flying in circles across the lawn. He sets his glass down and chases after you, hands slipping through the fabric of your dress. He’s not looking at the plush flesh of your thighs revealed at each stride. Not noticing the way your chest moves, definitely doesn’t see a peek of your ass as you whirl in front of him. He doesn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t. Certainly not on purpose. 

He blames the heat, his earlier exertion for why he can’t catch you. Can’t even try to grab you when you zoom by and scoop up his empty glass, when you round the curve of his fence and wait for him to follow you. He’s barely jogging now, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He’s almost at you, cap almost within reach, and then you plant the hand with it in on one of the pickets of the fence, jump, and swing your legs over.

‘That is playing so fucking dirty!’ He pouts, and you cackle at him. 

If there’s one thing you’ve mastered over the last year, it’s hopping the dividing fence. If there's one thing Frankie swears he will not do, it’s swing himself over. Something about his joints, something about his back. Yada, yada as far as you’re concerned.

‘What’d they teach you in Delta Force?’ You tease, ‘Surely it can’t have been any harder than that.’

He flips you off, hands on his knees.

‘You learn to do that in college? How many fences were you jumping?’

You throw his cap to him, waggling your eyebrows.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.’

‘Weather boy?’ He wheezes, shaking his head. ‘Not even gonna ask. Christ, you make me feel old.’

You snicker at him again, hopping from foot to foot. He holds out his empty hand.

‘Good game.’

You step forwards, full of faux-graciousness. You take his hand, opening your mouth to snipe something back, but he’s pulling you in too fast for you to process.

And god, he’s wet. Slimy and gross and warm -

‘Get off me, Frankie!’ You howl, and he chuckles, nuzzling his soaked cheek against your forehead.

‘Come over for dinner tonight,’ he says as you squirm in his arms, ‘We’re making pizza.’

You jerk yourself free, and he lets you go, so fucking pleased with himself. You shake your limbs out, trying to erase the sweaty feeling of him.

‘Only if you have a shower first. You fucking stink, dude.’

He begins to back towards his house, and you do the same.

‘I’ll have a shower,’ he says, ‘If you bring a wrench.’

You snort at the bottom of your porch steps.

‘Fuck you, Fish. I ain’t bringing a wrench. And get your goddamn mower off my grass.’

He giggles, a boyish sound so unlike the burly man it comes from. It makes you giggle, too. 

‘See you later, Bug.’

‘If you’re lucky, Morales!’

You never do produce a wrench, but Frankie is always thrilled by the other magic tricks you have up your sleeve. He looks forward to the surprise when he comes home from flying - whole Lego cities in his living room, wonky origami in the kitchen, hama beads you’ve dug up from God knows where. The hama beads, he decides, he could live without. He found one in his sock the other day. 

He’s home from work earlier than he thought he'd be tonight. Lucia tucked up in bed, he’d tiptoed upstairs to crack her bedroom door open, watching the rise and fall of her back before stepping in and pressing a kiss to her plump, toasty cheek.

He’s just finishing making coffee when he glances across the kitchen to a mixing bowl that hadn’t been out this morning. Curious as the coffee brews, he moves closer to the pale blob inside, and pulls back the clingwrap. He sniffs the dough-like mass, but comes up empty for clues. 

He pokes a finger into it, grimacing at the damp sponginess before covering it again and wiping the digit on his jeans. He pours the coffee, adding creamer and sugar, before shouting over his shoulder.

‘Bug,’ he calls, ‘Were you making bread today?’

‘What?’ he hears you answer from the living room, and he smiles as he carries the coffee through to you.

‘I said, were you making bread?’

You’re still where he left you, tucked up on the sofa. You reach for the mug he offers with greedy hands, and he laughs.

‘Bread?’ you ask, taking it, brow furrowing before the confusion clears and you beam up at him. ‘Oh! No. I made playdough.’

‘Made playdough?’ He says, plopping down beside you.

‘Hell yeah, baby. Easy as fuck. Do you know it’s edible?’

‘Edible? You feeding my daughter playdough?’

You roll your eyes.

‘Obviously not. You’re a regular comedian, you know that?’

He chuckles into his coffee, blowing at the steam.

‘Did she eat it anyway?’

‘Not while I was looking.’

He hums at your answer, swinging your legs onto his lap and squeezing your calf.

‘What you watching?’ he asks. You shrug.

‘Some movie. This guy’s a detective tryna take down a drug ring. She,’ you say, flapping a pointed finger at the screen, ‘Is like, a burlesque dancer who’s actually an undercover agent, and he just found out. He’s feeling some type of way about it because he thought he was saving her from some kind of terrible fate, but it turns out she’s totally fine and is actually saving his ass.’

Frankie grins at you, and when you turn your head and catch his eye, you grin back.

‘What?’

‘Nothin’.’

You snort at him. He turns his attention back to the TV.

‘What’s the deal with the monkey?’

You jiggle your legs in his lap in excitement.

‘Oh! You’ll love this. He’s the gang leader. Everyone understands what he’s saying apart from the detective and this one guy who thinks he’s having the worst trip of his life.’

He belly laughs this time, tipping his head against the back of the couch, and you watch, eyes sparkling, as the hoots of laughter leave his mouth. You lean forward and smack his arm, giggling too.

‘Shh, you’ll wake Luc up.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he splutters, still snickering, ‘I’m sorry. Oh my god. If there was ever a movie written for you, it’d be this one.’

You gasp.

‘I know. It’s insane. And the soundtrack is amazing. So many cool songs. And -’ you pause, waiting for the actress to pop back up on screen, ‘She wrote some for it. Can’t remember what her name is right now, but she’s in a band in real life.’

Frankie watches as the woman welcomes the detective into her dark apartment - pin boards full of pictures and maps, a wall that falls away to reveal all kinds of hidden weapons. She turns to face the other actor, and Frankie cocks his head.

‘She kinda looks like you,’ he says, and you make a noncommittal noise. ‘Sure you don’t have a long-lost sister?’

You chuckle, and the camera pans back to the man.

‘I don’t think so. But he looks like you. Just - maybe… a few years older.’

He drops his jaw, staring at you.

‘Just a few?’

You snort.

‘Yeah, Fish. Don’t worry. Old age comes for us all.’

He makes a hurt noise, fingers scrabbling for the bottom of your feet, and you shriek, holding your coffee far away from you as he tickles.

‘Stop!’ you cry, ‘Stop! Okay, I’m sorry! You’re so much younger than him. You barely even look thirty.’

‘Barely - even - thirty -’ he laughs, wrestling with you as he tries to stop from spilling his own drink. ‘Not only did you call me old, you’re a liar, too.’ he stops only briefly to put his coffee down, and you manage to do the same before he launches at you with renewed vigour. His hands are all over you now, finding any sensitive spot he can. You grab and dig your nails into his arms, kicking your legs against his lap, planting a foot against his belly to hold him away.

You speak only in squeaks, hacking coughs and muffled laughter. There’s a pressure building in your bladder, and it only makes your movements more desperate, more uncoordinated. You’re begging, pleading, almost in tears through your yelping, and then your heel digs lower than it should. Frankie’s movements cease as he doubles over your legs, grunting out a pained noise as you whip your feet away from him.

‘My - fuckin’ - balls.’ He gasps.

You try to suck your laughter back through your teeth, but it’s futile. You lean forwards towards him, your palm firm on his back.

‘I’m sorry,’ you wheeze, ‘God, I really - I swear I didn’t mean to do that.’

‘Oh, fuck off,’ he groans, cradling his crotch, ‘There was feeling behind it.’

You snort, pulling his shoulder back so he relaxes into the couch.

‘Come on. It was barely a tap. Lucia could still have a brother or sister.’

He groans anew.

‘I’m in no fit shape for any of that now.’

You giggle and pout at him.

‘Aw. Want me to kiss it better?’

The flush that reddens Frankie’s face is almost immediate, the same heat flashing through your cheeks. Your mouth works to find some kind of joke, something to take it back with, but you flounder. 

‘Keep dreamin’, bug.’

A ha! escapes your lips, and Frankie manages a bashful smile, a shake of his head. But your heart is lumbering in your chest, stomach gooey, and the tips of his ears are glowing. 

He’s not thinking about it. He’s not.

And neither are you.

So he says something stupid about the monkey, and you say something stupid back. Layers on layers of silliness until the giggles return and the nerves are tucked away.

You love this kid. You really do. But it’s been a shitty fucking day.

You’ve not cried in the staff toilets since your training, but today every vibe was off, as the kids say. You’d been about ready to head home, forget about any work you needed to do, pull on your pyjamas and crawl into bed. Instead, you’re trying to blink back stupid tears on your way to the elementary school across town.

You’re not mad at Frankie, not even upset. When he’d called to say there’d been a fire at work and he needed to stay to provide first aid, your stomach had dropped through the floor. Your are you okay? felt clumsy, rushed, pushed against his panicked panting through the line. But he was just as quick to reassure you - he wasn’t even close, but one guy had burns and they might need him to cover the last flight out.

And it wasn’t a problem - isn’t a problem. You love spending time with Lucia, want to be as much help as possible, but man. You just wish it wasn’t today.

When you pull up to the school gates, Lucia is waiting for you. Her tiny backpack clutched in her fists, bright smile as she chatters away to her teacher stood beside her. Miss Lopez, Frankie had texted you, just in case.

The car door is barely open before the curly-haired whirlwind is launching herself in your direction with an excited squeal, crashing into your legs. You laugh, squeezing her shoulders before dropping down to her level. 

‘Hey, baby bean!’

‘Papi said you’d come!’ She beams as you stroke her hair back from her face.

‘He sure did. You gonna come and hang out with me ‘til he gets home?’

She nods like her head’s on springs, and over her shoulder you look to Miss Lopez. She has the sweetest face, a lovely smile. You straighten out and offer her your hand. She takes it, palm soft and dry.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ You offer, and she shakes her head.

‘Not at all. You must be Mrs Morales.’ She says.

You choke on a laugh.

‘Oh - I - I’m not, actually. Family friend.’

Miss Lopez claps a hand to her forehead, grimacing.

‘Of course,’ she says, ‘The office did tell me. I’m so sorry. It’s just been one of those days.’

You chuckle, feeling Luc link her fingers with yours.

‘I know the feeling.’ You smile, and she smiles back. Miss Lopez crouches to Luc's level and gives her a gentle boop on the nose.

‘Be good, be safe.’ She says, and Lucia giggles, starting to pull you back to your car. Her teacher waves to you. ‘See you soon!’

You make sure to return it, ushering Luc to the car.

When she’s buckled in, she gently tugs the chain of your necklace.

‘I missed you.’ She says, eyes wide and earnest. Heat pricks behind your eyes again.

‘Missed you too, bean.’

It’s been a shitty fucking day, so you make cookies. 

It’s easy to do, and mostly for you, but Luc is fucking delighted. You make sure to dig out her little chef’s hat, and she whizzes around the lower cupboards grabbing a mixing bowl for you. She loves it, more than anything. She’s a star with shaping, mixing, tasting. On the same page as you about eating the dough, and very content to sit by the oven door to watch them melt and bake in front of her. Easy entertainment, and she’s in your sights as you grade your essays at Frankie's kitchen table. 

You know you’re not being fun. Not mustering the same kind of sunshine you usually do so effortlessly for her, not that she seems to notice. You try to keep a smile going when the cookies are done, packing a small box of them into your bag and eating two each before dinner. She might not finish the whole meal, but she looks at you like you hung the moon.

When you settle down to watch Frozen again later, her head starts to bob half an hour in. You let her fall asleep cuddled up next to you, and when another half hour passes, you extract yourself, gather her tiny body in your arms, and carry her to bed. 

You set her down gently, pull the covers up to her chin, and watch her snuggle down in the blankets, nuzzling into their softness. You feel so weak, so goddamn tired, so disappointed in yourself for not playing like you usually do, for not encouraging her to sing and dance with you, for not reading her her usual bedtime story. It’s important for development at her age, a nasty little voice reminds you, and it just feels like something else you’ve failed at. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, turn on her nightlight, and lean down to kiss her cheek. Her skin is so warm, so soft. You gently swipe the curls from her face.

‘Night night, little love.’

You’re still marking your essays when Frankie comes home. 

You know you shouldn’t be. You know you should have curled up on the sofa or in the guest room like he’s told you to before. Know you should be asleep, barely managing to keep your eyes open, but you feel so fucking miserable, and you’ll be damned if Frankie comes home to you crying wrapped in his duvet.

Your coffee is cold, and a sip of its chill only serves to spark irritation in your stomach. You begin gulping it down, wishing it gone, before spilling some on the sheet of paper in front of you. You curse quietly just as you hear his keys in the door, dabbing at the blotch on the page as he toes off his boots in the hall. Your pressing only seems to be making it worse, little flakes of paper coming off on your sleeve as he enters the kitchen. 

‘Hey,’ he says quietly, ‘I thought you’d be asleep.’

You give up, leaning back in your chair to look at him. 

‘How’d it go?’ You ask, throat tight.

He shrugs. 

‘Okay. Dylan has some burns and Eddie is pretty shaken up, but they’ll both be okay. Ended up taking Dylan’s last flight.’ 

You take a deep breath. 

‘I’m sorry, Fish.’

‘Why? You didn’t set fire to it.’

You know it’s one of his usual quips. You know he’s not trying to be smart, not trying to rile you up. But you can feel it happening, all the same. 

‘Are you okay?’

He looks at you, assessing. It’s not like you to not snipe something back, not like you to not take the joke further. 

‘I’m fine. Just took me by surprise, that’s all. I’ve seen worse.’

You nod. He frowns. He doesn’t like it when you’re quiet. 

‘Sorry I was gone so long.’

It hangs in the air for a moment. You clench your teeth, frustrated at yourself for the undeserved irritation. 

‘You were at work. ‘S not a problem.’

He’s staring at you. You can feel it as you lean forwards again, pen in your hand. The words in front of you blur. 

‘Whatcha reading?’

You should go. You should really pack up before this ridiculous anger bubbles over. It’s not Frankie who deserves it, not the kids who deserve it. You should sleep on it, get some perspective. Fuck, do some mindfulness or something. 

Frankie drums his fingers on the wood when you make no reply, and you glower at him as he moves around the table, eyes fixed on your pile of marked essays. He thumbs the corners, and you bristle.

‘Oof,’ he says, picking up the last paper you graded. ‘F for Fail?’

‘No,’ you bite, ‘F for fuck off, Frankie.’

His eyes flick to yours, surprised, and he’s greeted with a wall of fury which he’s never seen before. It shocks him enough to put him on the back foot. Show his belly. He whistles lowly, dropping the paper back onto the pile, and is rewarded with something akin to the gnashing of teeth. The pieces slot together in his head. The bags under your eyes. How short you’re being. 

‘Okay,’ he says, ‘I think that’s enough for tonight.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’ You hiss, and it’s like you’re an open book for him to read. The flame in your stomach roars to life at the look he gives you. You need to take a nap.

He pulls the rest of the papers away from you, and you try to claw them back, outraged. He grabs your hands, holding them away from your work, and your wrists twist in his grip.

‘Frankie,’ you seethe, ‘Let me go. I’m not fucking around.’ 

But he doesn’t. He’s seen you worked up before, knows you better than you think. Knows this isn’t just the result of a few bad essays, knows this is because of something more. Knows how to make you feel better. ‘Francisco Morales,’ you start, ‘Get your fucking hands off me -’ 

He tightens his fingers again and tugs you up off the chair. It squeaks across the floor as you stand. Something about your attitude sparks a flame south of Frankie’s stomach, and he swallows sharply. Nothing a good hard fuck couldn’t fix, and he blinks at himself, surprised. He drops your hands. Where the fuck did that come from?

‘Get off -’ you growl, and he points at you.

‘Sit your ass on the couch. I’ll be there in a minute.’

You set your jaw and glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. He watches as your mouth twists into a scowl before you turn on your heel and stomp through to the living room.

He takes his cap off, scrubbing a hand through his hair and exhaling through his nose before adjusting himself in his jeans. He tidies your papers, puts pens and markers back into your pencil case, closes your laptop, packs your bag. Moves to the cupboard for two mugs, busying himself with tea and coffee as he tries to push thoughts of your furious eyes from his mind. How he could kiss the frown from your forehead, the scowl from your lips, how he could take you apart with his mouth, his cock, make you forget, make you feel better -

When he steps into the living room, you’re sat with your back to him, crowded into a corner of the couch. He places your tea on the table behind you, and his coffee on the other at his end. He lowers himself onto the cushions, relaxing against the leather, watching you. Your shoulders are almost up to your ears, fingers picking at the skin around your nails, eyes on your lap. He waits, chewing his cheek, hands twitching at the way your nails dig into skin.

‘I’m sorry for snapping at you.’

Your voice is small, quiet. He rubs his eyes and sighs.

‘It’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t mean it,’ he pauses. ‘I’m sorry for - manhandling you.’

You huff a breath through your nose, scratch at your knuckle. Frankie feels the worried pit in his stomach start to yawn.

‘Bug,’ he says, softly, ‘Talk to me.’

You wipe your hands over your thighs, and Frankie wonders whether it’s him. Something he’s said or done. He knows he’s not been looking hard enough for another sitter - maybe you’ve just had enough. His gut twists.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing - just. A bad day, is all.’

Too fast. He can feel his eyebrows lift.

‘Because of the tests?’

You shake your head.

‘All of it. The whole day was wrong.’

Frankie waits again, resisting the urge to move closer to you. You need a moment, though everything in his body wants you near right now. The scratching at your knuckle is incessant, and Frankie observes the movement with his own growing anxiety. You clear your throat.

‘All my lessons were shit. Everything was shit. I forgot reports and data drops, and the kids wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and I yelled at my favourite class, and almost everyone in my tenth grade group failed their assignment, and I just - couldn’t smile enough, wasn’t good enough for Lucia, and I’m so tired,’ you rush out, pressure building behind your eyes and at the back of your throat. ‘I’m tired, Frankie.’ You whisper.

He’s nodding, hands clasping and unclasping over his lap. 

‘Bug, baby,’ he says, so gentle, ‘Please don’t worry about Luc. Don’t ever worry about not being good enough. You know she thinks the sun shines out your ass,’ he pauses, but there’s no giggle. ‘And I bet your lessons weren’t shit. You had a bad day - that’s all. That does not make them shit.’ He can see your head quirk minutely, hear the thought as though you’d spoken it aloud. Wrong. He keeps going. ‘And things get forgotten, but they’ll get done. Did anyone say anything?’

You shake your head.

‘No. Helen just said they need to be done as soon as possible.’

‘So no one was upset? No one yelled?’

You shake your head again.

‘So it’s fine. You won’t be the only one, bug. And kids never shut the fuck up. It’s annoying as fuck. You know how long I’d last in that classroom?’

‘Five minutes?’ You say, a tiny curl of amusement in your words.

‘Twenty fucking seconds. You’re a saint.’

He hears it, though faint. A small huh of a laugh. He continues, smiling a little.

‘And fuck the tenth graders. If they shut the fuck up, they’d have done it properly. They wouldn’t have fucked it up. They wouldn’t be making my best pal upset, here on my couch.’

You breathe out, shoulders sagging.

‘Maybe they found it hard, though. Maybe I didn’t do a good enough job of explaining it all -’

‘Ah,’ Frankie interrupts, ‘Maybe. But were they concentrating when you explained it? Or were they talking football teams and weekend plans?’

The scratching stops. Frankie counts the seconds by the tick of his heart beat as you pop your knuckles and sigh again. You still haven’t looked at him. 

You suck air through your teeth.

‘Football teams and weekend plans. But they still - the results are awful, Frankie. They’re gonna think I can’t do my job.’

‘They’re not gonna think that. They’re not. This is one bad day, one bad result. You’re doing all you can. But you can only do so much, bug. Today was just not your day.’

Your body is vibrating with tension. You link your fingers together, watching the way the skin shifts between the joints.

‘It just - it wouldn’t be so hard if they fucking listened to me,’ you say, still quiet, but angry again now. Upset in a way that makes Frankie’s chest swell. ‘And then I get to thinking - maybe it is me. Maybe I’m just shit at my job and nobody’s bothered to tell me yet -’

‘Enough. You’re not doing this. Of course someone would have told you. Bug, they’re kids. They don’t even listen to their parents when they’re told to defrost the chicken when they get home from school. You’re not doing anything wrong.’

In the low light, Frankie can see you bite your lip, chin wobbling.

‘Hey,’ he says, softly. ‘Hey. Don’t cry. If anyone should be crying, it’s them. You’re doing your best. The least they could do is meet you halfway.’

‘But it’s my job, Frankie. And I care.’

‘I know you do, baby,’ he says, finally leaning forward, squeezing your thigh, ‘I know you do. So - what can we do? You’re tired. Lots of sleep. Long lie in on the weekend. But there’ll be lots of things you can do to turn things around. What can you do for tenth grade?’

You look up, finally. He gets a glimpse of your eyes, panicked, worried, before you turn them away again. You swallow, nod.

‘I guess I could… break it down for them. When I give their marks back. We could write an answer together. And Lucy showed me a really good feedback grid I can print for them all so they know what to work on.’ 

‘Good. That’s good. Make ‘em write it again?’

You twist your fingers.

‘Yeah. I guess so. There’s time. And they could do with the practice.’

Frankie squeezes your thigh again, stroking his thumb against your pants. You huff.

‘There. See? Already fixin’ it. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy.’

You quirk your head.

‘You’d think. More like - fuckin’ - difficult, difficult, lemon difficult.’

A slow smile spreads across his lips, despite himself. And when you look up, catch it, you fight to keep your mouth from doing the same.

‘You can laugh, bug,’ he says, ‘That was funny.’

A small giggle floats from between your lips, but it’s still watery. He can taste the salt in the air.

‘What else?’ he says.

You shake your head, retreating back into yourself again.

‘Bug?’

Your eyes are back down on your hands, fingers twisting, twisting, twisting.

Frankie holds his breath, heart aching in his chest. He can feel it radiating off of you, something deeper, painful.

‘I just - it made me think maybe I’m not cut out for it. Maybe I’m not as good as I hoped I’d be, and -’ you cut yourself off, throat tight. You swallow, and Frankie leans towards you. One of his huge hands reaches out to yours, and he gently pries his fingers between your palms, thumb stroking over your knuckles. The tears come without you realising, hot and quick, so many of them you’re startled. ‘And maybe - not as good as dad said I would be.’ You shrug again, wounded, vulnerable. Frankie shifts, the arm closest to you wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. Your voice catches, fear and guilt straining against sound. ‘That was the worst part. I felt like I was letting him down.’

‘Letting him down?’ He says into your hair. You feel his lips against your scalp as he speaks. ‘My god, bug. How could you ever think that?’ He squeezes you tighter, and you fight the sobs clawing up your throat. ‘Every day, you go in there and you kill it. No one in that school has ever said a bad thing against you. And you come home with notes, drawings, emails from kids and staff and parents who tell you that you’re making a difference. That you’re helping them learn, you’re making them feel safe, feel like they’re worth the time you give them. Do you know how special that is? Do you know how many of those kids come to you for that?’

A broken noise escapes your mouth, and Frankie begins to rock you gently. 

‘I’m proud of you,’ he says, ‘And I know if I’m proud of you, your dad is watching you with his heart about to burst. You could never let him down. Look at you. You are so special.’

You hiccup against him, and Frankie nuzzles his face into your hair. Your tears are hot, damp through his t-shirt, but you can’t stop. You hold to his arms, breathing him in as holds you close. Your legs are going numb, head aching, and you don’t know how long you sit there like that with him holding you. He soothes you with quiet whispers, waves rushing in and out, and once your breathing is back to normal you pull away from him with a great sniff. You laugh at yourself, wiping at your face. He smiles gently back, little crow's feet ceasing the corners of his eyes. 

‘You okay?’ He asks. 

You nod. 

‘Yeah. Just gross. Need to blow my nose.’

He shakes his head at you. 

‘You’re never gross.’

You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles. 

‘There she is.’ 

You shift on the sofa, stretching and popping your joints before hauling yourself up to go to the bathroom. 

‘Do you want anything?’ You ask shyly. He shakes his head. 

‘Nope. Take your time.’

You shut the door quietly behind you in the bathroom, stepping to press your head against the cool tile. You try to empty your mind, but your chest is heavy. Everything that Frankie said, everything that was so easy to share with him. You’d thanked your lucky stars many a time over the last year that he’d bounded out his front door the evening you’d moved in, but now there was something more to it. You roll your head against the cool ceramic and press your fists to your chest. Your dad was a man who believed in fate, in things happening for a reason. Here, in the quiet calm of Frankie’s house, you have a feeling that he pulled some strings. That he knew who you’d need. 

Lips almost pressed to the tile, you whisper to him. 

‘Thanks, dad.’

The words hang in the air, slung out the universe, met with warm silence. Your throat tightens again, and if you close your eyes tight, you’d swear he was at your shoulder. Like you could turn around and he’d be there. 

When the tightness passes, you inhale deeply and turn to the sink. You splash your face with cold water, blow your nose, and make your way back to Frankie. 

He’s right where you left him, the TV on quietly. You flop down into your usual position, and he makes motions for you. You swing your legs onto his lap, and he runs his hands up your shins. Gentle, tender care again. You tip your head back and speak to the ceiling. 

‘Thank you.’

He’s quiet for a moment. 

‘You don’t need to thank me, bug.’

You make a noise of dissent. 

‘You should know. You should know how much I appreciate you. How much I love you.’

You blink at the lights and shadows above you. How easily that slipped off your tongue. It’s never been difficult for you to tell your friends you love them. Hell, you even said it to the lady who served you at the store the other day. But something about saying it to Frankie feels… different. 

Your breath gets caught in your chest, and then Frankie’s thumbs dig into the flesh of your calves. 

‘Love you too, bug.’

You inflate your lungs at the same time as he kneads a particularly tense spot on your leg, and you loose a quiet groan. You’re not sure if you imagine the minute pause of Frankie’s hands before he thumbs the same spot again. 

‘Fuck.’ You hiss. 

This time, he does pause. He pauses and prays you don’t feel the way his cock twitched. 

‘Does that hurt?’

You pull your head back up and find him watching you with dark eyes. 

‘No,’ you say quietly, ‘Not really.’

He nods, studying your face at the next pass of his fingers. Your wince at the tension, but the relief that follows makes your eyes close. This time, he runs his knuckles over your muscles, and you bite your lip, eyes flickering open to meet his. You sigh. 

‘That good?’ He asks. 

You can’t say anything, nothing that wouldn’t betray the flood of warmth sparking in your cunt. 

Mhm. 

He nods, kneading further down your leg. Your head flops backwards again, lip clamped between your teeth, brow furrowed as you will your body not to betray you. You almost have it, almost, fingers flexing against the couch cushions, until he presses his thumbs into the arch of your foot and you moan. You fucking moan. 

You freeze, teeth releasing your lip as you gasp, but he keeps going. Running his thumbs over and over the sore muscles as you let out quiet little gasps, squirming against the couch, soaking your panties. 

‘Jesus Christ, Frankie.’

‘Relax,’ he says, ‘You’re fine.’

You are not fine. Every synapse in your body is firing, every nerve ending alight. You begin to panic, begin to wonder whether you could come from a foot massage alone. Your eyes find his face again, and he turns his head slowly to look back at you, digging firmly into a particularly sore spot. You whine, more pain than pleasure this time, and he presses harder. Hot hurt shoots up your spine, and you whip your foot away from him, breathing heavily. Like dawn breaking, Frankie’s face clears.

‘Fuck,’ he rasps, ‘Sorry, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’

You wince, flexing your foot against the carpet. 

‘’S okay,’ you murmur, trying not to pant, ‘Just a little too deep.’

You can’t look at him. You’re so sure that this man does everything from the good of his heart, with the express intention of making you feel better, but you can’t ignore how your body is buzzing. He can’t possibly know how turned on you are right now. Just a friend comforting a friend. Just a friend. Jesus Christ.

You glance at your watch and curse, all but leaping off the sofa. Frankie stares after you, panicked.

‘Bug -’

You whirl around to smile at him, realising just how wet you are with your thighs pressed together.

‘It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. I should just - I should really get going.’

He hasn’t moved from the couch, hands crossed in his lap like he’s afraid to move.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whispers. 

‘Don’t be,’ you say - too brightly, too quickly. ‘Don’t be. I - thank you. For everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

And you’re gone. Bag grabbed, barefoot, shoes in hand, flying out the front door, across your lawns, into your own house. Dumping the shoes and peeling off your clothes in the safety of your bedroom. You flick the bedside lamp on and yank open your bedside draw, rummaging around for your vibrator, pressing it to your throbbing clit before you’re even on your bed. 

Your body jerks at the sensation, knees giving out as you moan, long and loud, free hand fisting the sheets as you rock back and forth on your hands and knees. Something clatters through your mind, something confusing and guilty, some mix of emotions that stirs in your chest and in your gut, something that tells you you shouldn’t be doing this - again. Shouldn’t be this close to coming already, shouldn’t be so wet, shouldn’t be shaking this hard. Shouldn’t be moaning so loud, so desperately, shouldn’t be thinking of the way Frankie’s dark eyes bored into yours, the way he worked his fingers over your sore muscles, how he’d held you there so you couldn’t escape. What he’d think of you dripping all over his couch from just touching you through clothes. 

You tilt your ass up further, resting your forehead on your arm, feeling sweat gather on your hairline. In your mind, Frankie’s hands are climbing up further than they were before, kneading up your thighs, squeezing and rubbing, all the way until his thumb grazes the edge of your panties. You can imagine how his eyes would get darker as he felt the slick there, so wet it made the closest press of your thighs damp through the fabric. How you’d hold your breath and his gaze as he slipped two fingers beneath the gusset, how he’d sweep them through the wetness there, just spreading it, teasing, enjoying how wet and ready for him you were before slipping both digits inside, easy, so easy -

You clench your teeth against the cry that seeks to force its way past your lips, breath stuttering in your lungs as your body seizes and pulls, cunt clenching and pulsing with your orgasm. Your head slips off your forearm onto the sheets and you curse quietly, betrayed by how easy it had been to come. 

You stand on shaky legs, turning the vibrator off with a click before leaving it on the duvet. You kneel and survey your room, the unread books, the pile of laundry, the freshly ironed shirt ready to wear tomorrow. The window across from you, bare of curtains, looking straight through to - fuck. For fuck’s sake.

Frankie’s bathroom light is on across the dark expanse of midnight grass. You freeze, naked, terrified for a moment that you will see him step into frame and catch you red handed. As if he’d know. As if he’d be able to tell, just from the look on your face, that you’d come so quickly, so easily, to the thought of him slipping his hand beneath your panties. 

But he doesn’t. With an arm over your chest, you whip the curtains over the gaping glass, and get ready for bed. 

Frankie can taste blood.

He barely even registers it, lip clamped between his teeth as he fists his dripping cock in the bathroom mirror. 

He’d sat for a few minutes on the couch after you’d left, trying to will his arousal away, terrified you might have forgotten something and come flying back through the door. Terrified Lucia might be rattled awake and find him to ask what the noise was about. 

When neither had happened, he’d unzipped his fly to relieve some of the aching pressure. He’d turned off the TV and all the lights, something swelling in his chest at the sight of the plate of cookies on the counter, piled high, and hauled his ass upstairs. The movement had made it worse. 

The friction against his cock at every step of his tired feet made him ache fiercely, and he’d forgone his bed, heading straight to the en-suite, where he’d  whipped his t-shirt off and pulled himself out. 

He’s trying to be quiet. Trying so hard as he draws his fist over his tip, spreading the precum down his length, as he twists and tightens his hand. His heart is racing, body thrumming with desire. He’s trying not to think of them, but those sweet, desperate little sounds you made are flooding his mind. He’s fucked. So fucked. 

And he’s weak. 

Weak at the knees at the thought of you laid out on his couch. At the thought of his hands drifting higher, at maybe finding your panties soaked. With his eyes closed, he can imagine your face - shocked, desperate, aching for him the way he is for you. He’d swipe his fingers along your slick slit, and he’d taste them - fuck, he’d give anything to know what you taste like. And when you begged, he’d strip you down and spread you out. He’d lower himself between your legs and kiss every inch of skin he could find. He’d breathe in the scent of you, nose the crease between your thigh and cunt, and he’d eat you. He wants to know what other sounds you make as he takes you apart, wants to lick you from your hole to your clit. Wants to hold you down as you squirm, wants his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. And he wants to make you come. Wants to drink you down as he feels you twitch and pulse beneath him, and then he wants to fill you with his cock. 

He tightens his fist again, barely muffling his groan. He wants to feel you stretched out, gasping as he pushes in. Wants to lean his forehead against yours as he whispers how beautiful you are, how good you’re being, letting him take care of you like this. Wants to see you cry for a different reason, wants to taste the salt on your skin and know it’s him who’s making you feel this good, that it’s only him who can fuck you like this.  

Wants to make you his, wants to feel you come around him, watch your eyes roll into the back of your head - 

He moans as he spills into his fist, cock kicking and jerking with every spurt of milky release that escapes him. Blood roars in his ears and he strokes himself until he whimpers at the sensitivity, panting hotly. 

His mouth is bloody and raw in the glass, eyes wide and guilty. He turns from his reflection in shame, ripping toilet paper and cleaning himself gently, trying not to think of your hands, your mouth, how you might look with his spend leaking from between your legs. 

He throws the paper in the toilet, tucking himself in and pushing the lever. 

He turns after flushing the evidence of his fantasies away, and is fixed with the disapproving eyes of the Star Wars duck on the edge of the bathtub. He pulls a face at it and flips it off.

‘Don’t look at me like that. I bet you do it when she’s not watching, too.’ He says, pointing to the sparkly gold one beside it. 

The duck glares back at him, accusatory, and he sticks his tongue out at it as he swings the door open, flicking off the light before stepping out. He closes the door firmly behind him, and leaves the ducks to their domestic.

Frankie snoozes his alarm the next morning, eyelids fluttering against his pillow as he wraps his arms around his tangle of duvet. He’s warm, limbs languid, still in the haze of a sweet dream, a familiar scent hiding behind the edges of sleep. 

He’s almost passed out again when he jerks awake, adrenaline flashing through his veins as he stumbles out of bed and into Lucia’s room. She’s asleep still, groggy as he gently stirs her, mumbling into her teddy about not wanting to go to school. And despite his best efforts, they’re both sluggish, slow, running late as he dresses her and then himself, as he makes breakfast, as he packs her bag, as he reaches into the refrigerator to grab her lunch - 

Shit. Her lunch. 

He throws a frantic glance at the clock, muttering a fuck too quiet for his daughter to hear as she waits behind him with her shoes, ready for him to put them on. He turns and kneels in front of her, placing one foot on his thigh so he can finish getting her ready. He makes a calculation that includes stopping to get her something from the store on the way to school, but there’s just not enough time -

He whips the door open so quickly it startles you, your hand flying from where it was about to knock. Your stomach is churning, heat crawling up your spine with how fucking weird you must have been last night. 

Frankie looks just as surprised to see you as you are him. 

‘Bug?’ He says, paused in the doorway with Lucia hitched on his hip. 

‘Bug!’ She crows, delighted with the early morning visit, oblivious to her father’s rush. You beam back at her, greeting her with a mornin’, mini Morales, before looking back at Frankie. Something in his chest goes gooey. 

‘I made lunch for you both,’ you say shyly, quickly. Frankie’s eyes drop to the two bags you have held out. ‘I didn’t think you’d have time last night. And I wanted to apologise. I didn’t mean to give you shi- a hard time when you got home. And I’m sorry I ran out so fast.’

Frankie sucks a breath through his teeth, heart rate settling. 

‘You’re a goddamn angel,’ he says, ‘You know that?’

You chuckle a little, looking down at your feet. His heart swoops, and he knows he shouldn’t, knows he won’t, but he wants to ask. 

He wants to ask you why you flew out the way you did. Wants to know why your bedroom light was on so late. Wants to know if there’s some wild possibility you were caught up the same way he was. But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he pulls you in for a one armed hug, and with all the gratefulness he can muster, says -

‘Thank you, baby. Luc, what do you say?’

Lucia grins at you with all her teeth. 

‘Thank you, bug.’

You giggle. 

‘I packed you extra cookies.’ You whisper conspiratorially, and Luc claps her tiny hands. 

You smile up at her, and she reaches out for the bags. You make sure she’s got them handled before turning your smile to Frankie, and he’s sure his heart stops. There’s worry in your eyes still, and it takes everything in him to not swipe a thumb along your cheek, to not press the fullness of his mouth against yours. 

‘We’re going to the beach on Sunday,’ he says, ‘Do you wanna come?’

Your smile brightens, widens. Relief washes over your features. 

‘Please!’ Lucia joins, ‘Pleasecometothebeach - we're gonna build sand castles and bury Papi and swim and eat ice cream -’

Frankie clasps his hand over her mouth, and she cackles against it, legs swinging against his hip.

‘I’d love to.’ You say. 

The beach is a raging success. 

From the moment you’d felt the silky sand brushing between your toes, it was like the stress of the week had melted away. 

Lucia had grabbed your hand as soon as Frankie had dropped the cooler in the best spot he could find, squealing and running all the way to the ocean with you beside her. Frankie had laughed as he ran to catch up, hitting the waves just after you, sweeping Lucia up in his arms as she shrieked with laughter, swooping her low so her toes swept through the water. You swam and paddled together for a while, Frankie only leaving to grab a ball so you could play piggy in the middle in the shallowest shallows.

Now, laid out on the blanket you’d brought, with the sun warming your skin, you close your eyes. 

Everything feels slow - the tick of your heart, the carousel of your thoughts, the way you drag your fingers through the sand at your side. You’re drifting into the arms of sleep when there’s the soft snick-crack-fizz of a can beside you, and then you’re suddenly thirsty.

You peek through one eye at Frankie beside you, and like he feels it, his eyes flick to yours. He offers you the open soda before reaching into the cooler for another. You sit up, groaning a little, twisting to look for Lucia.

She’s still slumped on the sand throne you and Frankie had built her, now fast asleep. Legs planted, arms settled on the armrests like a stately little Lord. Her head tilted back, tiny sunglasses and flowery sun hat on. You can’t look at her for too long before you get the giggles, it’s so fucking cute.

Frankie follows your eyes, mouth lifting in amusement, raising his eyebrows at you.

‘We should take a picture. One for her 18th.’ 

You giggle, and he takes a sip of his drink before flopping down beside you. You take a long pull from your own can before doing the same, turning on your side to face him. Frankies fights to keep his gaze steady, something he’s been trying to do all day. Trying to avoid the skin that had been revealed to him today, trying to avoid how soft you look, how comfortable, how gorgeous. How your skin would taste, how it would feel against his. He closes his eyes.

You watch him. The strong sweep of his nose, the fullness of his mouth. The scruff of his beard, the bare heart-shaped patch before the line of his jaw. Your eyes sweep lower - the wide expanse of his chest, golden skin that seems to go on for miles and miles. It makes your mouth run dry. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before in the hot Florida summer, but up this close, it’s different. The soft band of his belly, the smattering of hair above the waistband of his trunks. The silvery bud of a scar above his hip. 

When you glance back to his face, he’s watching you. Your eyes dart down again.

‘Mexico,’ he says, ‘2016.’

You nod, and reach out your hand. Slowly, softly. Frankie holds his breath, stomach tensing.

You run the tip of your finger along the puckered edge of the scar, and he shudders. You pause, untacking your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘No,’ he reassures, ‘Just - tickles.’

It’s a half truth. 

It doesn’t hurt. It does tickle. And there’s a burst of heat beneath his skin where your fingers graze him.

‘Was it bad?’

He smiles slightly.

‘Just a scratch.’

You hum quietly, swiping your thumb against it tenderly. He watches you, mouth parted, heart burning. It doesn’t look like a scratch, but you’re not one to pry.

The moment is broken by a soft coo behind you, and Frankie’s eyes lift to it. You roll onto your back.

A woman flashes you and Frankie an apologetic smile.

‘Sorry,’ she says quietly, gesturing to Lucia, ‘She just looks so cute.’

You smile breathlessly, a little flustered. She’s gorgeous. So tan and smiley and stunning.

‘Gets all her looks from me.’ Frankie jokes, and you roll your eyes. The woman smiles.

‘I think you mean her mama.’ She says, nodding to you before continuing on her stroll. You’re still too taken aback to correct her, trying to loosen your tongue before Frankie takes any offence. He laughs beside you, and you roll back to him to apologise -

‘You are literally no better than a man.’

It’s not what you were expecting, and the shock of it makes you laugh, too. You land a soft punch to his arm, a grumbled shut up shot from where you bury your face in the sandy blanket.. But it feels good, the ease at which the jokes come. 

To think, there’d been a night on your porch not long after you’d moved in when you’d mentioned the name Annie and clammed up, panicking about what questions would follow next. The name of your ex-girlfriend - ex-fiancee - had been something which only really existed in your mind at the time. Known, of course, to the friends you’d left back home; friends who had loved her, loved the two of you together. But soured by the reaction of your extended family, the people who had voiced their disgust at who you'd loved, who had been so quick to turn their backs in the face of your happiness, the first you’d found since your dad’s passing. It had made your stomach twist. 

You’d been worried about Frankie’s reaction, couldn’t bear to think of the first friend you’d made - your neighbour - having the same look of distaste - or worse - intense curiosity. 

But he’d done neither of those things. Had marked it with a quiet oh before asking what she was like, where she was, what had happened. You’d told him how you met in college but weren’t brave enough to ask her out until after graduation. How she was an engineer on the east coast - kind and funny and eager to watch you succeed. 

You’d been sparing with the details about how it ended. The breakup had still been a raw nerve, something you had no real desire to discuss. Something which you only found to be the case more and more the longer you spent around Frankie. And then he gave you further reason to be less afraid of what he’d think, whether he had the want to judge.

‘Sounds like my ex,’ he’d said, ‘We were friends first, too. Benny.’

You’re snapped back to the present by Frankie rustling around in the cooler.

‘Have something to eat,’ he says, ‘You’re looking a little shaky.’

You’ve been asleep for most of the way home. 

Hair blowing in the wind of the journey, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You look so peaceful, so beautiful, and something about this - the three of you in Frankie’s truck, Lucia babbling to herself in the back - feels so right.

He’s loathe to wake you. Wishes he could bottle this moment; the sand still clinging to your skin, Luc’s bright smile in the rearview mirror, but you stir all the same when he slows and pulls into his driveway. 

You stretch your arms and yawn, smiling sleepily at him before twisting to look back at Lucia.

‘How you doing, bean?’ You ask.

‘You were asleep!’ She chirps back, and Frankie chuckles.

‘Sure was,’ you grin, ‘Can’t keep up with you.’

You insist on carrying the cooler into his house while Frankie unbuckles her. He holds her hand around the side of the car before she pulls free of him, clattering into the house after you in her sparkling sandals. She passes him in the hall, arms full of toys as she speeds back out to the grass out front, and you smirk at him around the doorway of the kitchen. He shakes his head at you.

‘I don’t know how she does it.’ He says. You grin.

‘She’s four. Give her a few more years.’

He chuckles as he swoops in behind you, pinning your body between his and the counter. He digs in the cooler as you close your eyes against his body heat.

‘Want a beer?’ He says against your neck before pulling away.

‘Thought you’d never ask.’

When you’re settled on his porch, Lucia mimicking the sounds of the dinosaurs she has splayed across the lawn, Frankie bumps your shoulder.

‘You should have asked for her number.’ He grins. You turn to him, still a little sleepy.

‘Whose?’

‘The woman. On the beach.’

You roll your eyes at him despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

‘They’ll get stuck like that, you know.’ He says.

You nudge him back, a little harder.

‘You should’ve asked,’ you chuckle. ‘Gets all her looks from me.’

He snorts.

‘Nah. I wasn’t even on the field. Think you mean her mama.’

‘Should have given her the old I’m the babysitter line.’

He laughs. 

‘God. Imagine. Maybe that’s what I’ll have to tell the guys the next time they ask if I’m seeing someone.’

Your blood heats, a soft pounding in your ears. Imagine. Imagine.

You roll your head on your shoulders.

‘Are you?’ you ask tentatively, ‘Seeing anyone, I mean.’

Frankie shrugs beside you like it’s no big deal.

‘No,’ he says, ‘I kind of… swore that all off after Benny. Didn’t wanna go through it all again. Wasn’t good for me, wasn’t good for her,’ he says, gesturing towards where Lucia is playing on the grass. He’s quiet for a moment. ‘Just don’t think I’m cut out for it. Getting my heart broken again.’

You know how it ended - before it had really begun. A tentative feeling between friends; Frankie falling hard, Benny unsure about the new step. Caught up with the nerves you remember so well in the new turn of discovering himself, scared by the ripples caused within the tight knot of their group of friends. It had been hard on Frankie. Not made difficult by his brothers in arms, who, to all intents and purposes, had seen it coming - but because he was so clearly a man who loved hard. With all the goodness in his heart. It’s obvious in how he talks about him now, in how he talks about Lucia's mother. Love that lingers, that still sees the light.

You watch him as he speaks. The soft sunlight illuminating his curls, turning them golden, chocolate brown, little streaks of grey peaking through. His eyes are bright and flecked with hazel, his lips soft and full. When he talks, they are shaped with sound, with emotion. Expressive and beautiful, moving with the crinkles at his eyes, the frown lines on his forehead. Something pulls in your chest, and you reach out to hold his wrist just above his beer bottle. He squeezes your hand with his free one, and turns to look at you. So soft, so warm, eyes so kind and yet so sad sometimes it takes your breath away.

You can’t ever imagine breaking Frankie’s heart.

He licks his lips, eyes flitting to your parted mouth before resting back on yours.

‘Are you?’ He asks.

You breathe a laugh, something breathless in the sound. You retract your hand and look away from him, back to Lucia, watching her toddle around with her dinosaurs. He studies you, and it makes something spike at the back of your throat. You hate when he gets you like this; like he can see you better than anyone else ever has. 

‘No,’ you say. When you look back at him, his brows curve in a furrow at the sight of your sparkling eyes. You offer him a small smile, take a deep breath. ‘Think I’m the same as you,’ you shrug, ‘Not built to get my heart broken again.’

Frankie dares an arm across your back, squeezing the shoulder furthest away from him. He pulls you into his chest, palm pressing your bicep in comforting sweeps.

‘I’m sorry.’ He says into your hair.

‘Don’t be,’ you reassure him, ‘I’m not - cut up about it like I was.’ You sniff and pull away from him a little to look in his eyes. ‘It just stays with you, like you said before. The hurt and the shock. Everything you had planned. I think it’s just… hard to remember you won’t have that. Hard to not have that future, hard to feel like you’re enough again.’ You smile softly, and he answers with his own. He knows, he understands. ‘Just… really thought I was gonna marry her,’ you whisper, looking down at your hands. ‘Day I asked her, every time I saw that ring on her finger, thought we were gonna spend the rest of our lives together. And it made me so… happy.’ Frankie swallows thickly beside you. The feeling of it, of what you’re telling him, so painful, so raw for both of you. ‘And when it happened, when it fell apart… it wasn’t big. She just told me - real kind, real patient about it - that she didn’t love me anymore.’ Frankie breathes deeply when he hears the catch in your voice, the sting of it. 

Your eyes are on Lucia, but you’re so far away that it worries him. He wants you here, safe, having beers with him on his porch, giggling on the steps.

He can’t ever imagine breaking your heart.

You quirk your head, sighing. ‘Spent a long time tryna figure out what I did wrong, but there was never an answer,’ you shrug. ‘I’m glad she ended it, though. Despite it all. I’d have never forgiven her if she’d stayed.’

A strained hum pulls itself from Frankie’s throat as he watches you lean forward to pick at the grass by your feet. He clears his throat, studies your profile carefully.

‘Do you still love her?’ He asks, voice low and hoarse. He finds, to his surprise, that he’s terrified of the answer.

You frown, slowing your pulling.

‘No,’ you say. ‘I have love for her, but we don’t speak. I don’t want her in my life, but I wish her the best. I just found it… hard to rebuild.’

He thinks back to the day you moved in next door, the bright smile that he hadn’t realised didn’t quite reach your eyes, how you’d been a little thinner, looked so tired. How you’ve changed over the year since, so warm, so full of love and light and energy. How you tear around the lawn with Lucia, how you laugh at his kitchen table, how you fit into his side when you’re watching movies. 

Something swoops in his gut, something so huge and unbalancing that his breath comes shallow, that his ears buzz and his vision blurs. A feeling that makes so much - too much - sense.

Fuck.

He swallows, closes his eyes.

When he turns to look at you again, it’s with a heart that knows - really knows. He sees everything you are, everything you’ve been, everything you will be. Knows you for all your good days and bad days, has seen you at all hours, could hold every piece of your fractured heart in his hands and meld it back together again if you let him.

Your eyes find his. He watches your brows raise a fraction at his expression, watches them push together in a question. 

His mouth is dry, but he speaks.

‘You are,’ he says, ‘You are enough.’

Your eyes don’t leave his.There’s a pressure behind them, a pull in your gut, a skip of your heart. Something on the tip of your tongue. 

Frankie’s eyes slip to your mouth. Your breath catches in your throat, and the world stills. The sounds of the evening, Lucia playing, fade to almost nothing.

If you tip your head, you think he might kiss you. 

A small, wild ball of energy crashes into Frankie’s chest, and the moment slips through your fingers. Frankie lets out a quiet oof, wrapping his arms around his daughter. A giggle bubbles out of your mouth, and he grins at you, but his eyes linger. Lucia turns her tiny face up to him, and Frankie rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.

‘Whaddya want, mija?’

‘Strawberry laces.’ She whispers, and you both laugh.

‘Strawberry laces, what?’

‘Strawberry laces, please, Papi.’

‘Alright,’ he says, shifting her out of the clutch of his arms and onto the step beside you, ‘Sit tight, mi amor. I’ll be back in a minute.’

The front door isn’t even closed behind him before Lucia is crawling her way into your lap, wrapping her arms around you. You tuck your hands against her back, pulling away to look at her.

‘How’s it going, mini Morales?’

She beams up at you.

‘Good. The bugs are winning.’

‘Winning? Against who?’

‘The dinosaurs.’ She says, gravely. You nod, just as serious, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘That’s good. Bugs have a lot going for them.’

She leans back to consider you for a moment, her face scrunching up in the low lying sun.

‘Miss Lopez called you Mrs Morales the other day,’ she says, ‘Does that mean you and Papi are married now?’

Your heart lurches in your chest, head spinning a little. You laugh, disbelieving. From the mouths of babes.

‘No, baby,’ you say softly, and her face falls. 

‘Why not?’

You can feel your heartbeat in your toes. You pray Frankie is struggling to find those strawberry laces.

‘We’re - we’re just friends, Luc. People who get married are usually a bit more than friends.’

Lucia frowns.

‘But you are more than friends,’ she insists, ‘You’re best friends. And you love each other.’

Jesus Christ. You squeak out a hm, trying to remain noncommittal. Lucia begins to fiddle with the charm on your necklace.

‘How do you get married?’

‘Well,’ you swallow, ‘Usually you have a big party. With lots of friends and family there. And you have to ask each other first.’

‘Have you been married?’

You wince. How is she doing it?

‘No, bean. I haven’t.’

She nods, thoughtful.

‘Neither has Papi. He could ask you.’ 

You choke out a laugh. Frankie’s eyes on yours, on your mouth. The moment caught in time.

Idle thoughts.

‘He could. But I don’t think he wants to.’

Her wide, brown eyes shoot to yours, hands stilling on the chain of your necklace. A feeling creeps up the back of your neck.

‘He does,’ she says quietly. ‘You’re his favourite person, apart from me. He told me s- Papi!’

She cuts herself off in an excitable screech, and you scrunch your face at it. Luc is wriggling in your lap, lips open wide in a toothy grin. Her hands reach out in fists as Frankie rounds your shoulder, the plastic packet of strawberry laces crinkling in his hand. 

‘Open your hand,’ he says, and Lucia obeys, her fists flattening to palms face up. Frankie drops a small handful of the sweets onto them, and she dances on top of your thighs, shoving two in her mouth at once so she can chew them up like snakes disappearing between her teeth.

She flashes you another grin, red blended with white, and wriggles backwards, running off back to her dinosaurs. 

Frankie settles next to you again, offering you the packet. You take it, fingers scrabbling for sugar as the two of you watch her. For a second, it’s like you’re a family. Like you can feel the weight of a ring on your finger, a ring that was supposed to be there some time in the last six months. You shake your head. A silly thought.

Frankie licks his fingers beside you, and you turn to watch him. The sound of the pop as he releases them from his mouth, the smile that dances across his lips as he watches Lucia, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes. An involuntary smile crawls across your own lips.

‘Got another favour you can do for me,’ you say, still chewing. 

‘Hm?’

‘Sink’s a little leaky. Think you can take a look?’

You hold the packet of strawberry laces out to him, and he takes one, lowering it into his mouth. You giggle at the way his tongue curls around it. He grins back at you.

‘Sure can, baby. Luc is at a sleepover Friday night. That work for you?’

‘I think it might, Morales. I think it might.’

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch13

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, Oral (m-receiving), grinding

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Month, Twenty Days Until D-Day

"Miguel, I said I'm fine now. No need to keep me on a lease," You said with a low whine.

"Every time I let you out of my sight, you seem to get injured. I can't have my little Spider escape again." Miguel grunted.

Hiding your flustered cheeks, you pouted towards Miguel. He could be so stubborn sometimes. Then again, he wasn't wrong either. You didn't want to admit it, but you were still aching in pain from your fight with Goblin.

"Alright," You huffed, resting your head against his shoulder.

Miguel had you sitting on his lap, his arm firmly around your waist. He was absorbed in his work, grunting to your small comments here and there. It brought a smile to your face. Miguel seemed so cruel but cared so much.

"Miguel, how come you don't want to at least take my blood sample anymore? You were so adamant before." You asked out of curiosity.

"Because once I knew it was you, I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Awe~"

--------

What a fucking lie.

"I know how much you dislike my experiments," Miguel continued, sweetening his words, "I wouldn't want my little Spider afraid of me anymore than she is now."

"Awe~ Miguel~" You cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I was never afraid of you! Concerned, yes, but not afraid!"

Too easy.

"Hn, but I do hope you tell me how this happened. I am a scientist, after all, I have a curiosity to feed."

"You have to promise you won't get mad,"

Lord, you looked adorable with your little pout. Miguel couldn't help but give you a lazy stare, holding back the urge to bend you against his desk and fuck you. Miguel was craving you, but he had to wait. He needed to make sure it was safe for him to take his injection.

"I promise," Miguel sighed, already knowing everything.

He just wanted to distract himself from work and entertain you. Grunt lowly as you fixed yourself against his lap, Miguel gripped your waist. These frustrating human urges had to wait. Miguel was giving himself a harsh slow burn at this rate.

"Well, remember that day when your Spiders got loose...One bit me and I accidently killed it. It was the same day I fainted," You whispered nervously.

"Ah, so that's how it happened,"

"I'm sorry," You gave a small frown. Miguel leaned forward to peck your lips,

"I promised I wouldn't be mad, remember? Instead, you can make it up to me by showing me what you could do. A little show,"

Perhaps he should go into acting? Miguel leaned back in his seat, impressed by his own skills. It was either that or you being too gullible. Your love for him blinded you in many ways that Miguel thoroughly enjoyed.

Watching you give him your own little runway show, Miguel couldn't help but chuckle. Your blood was being used right now to make several of his new injections. He was going to use it on more prisoners or willing test subjects. Which ever was the successful injection...

Miguel will kill them.

Only the two of you were allowed to bear humanity's future. Miguel was not going to risk another person poisoning his plan. Only Miguel could rule, with you as his trophy.

"Okay, this part really freaked me out at first, buuuuuut, I got used to it." You chirped, showing your organic webs.

"Let me see," Miguel motioned you closer.

You as his pet. His trophy. His obedient wife. Honestly, Miguel was lucky that it was you and not some random woman. Just the thought of you crying annoyed Miguel. He would have probably made you super powered in that case as well.

"Fascinating." Miguel hummed, holding your wrist.

"W-Wait...I didn't think it...would be this sensitive," You whimpered, trembling as Miguel stroked your wrist.

"Perhaps you just are," Miguel chuckled, watching you fall apart, "I believe I recall you mentioning better stamina? That isn't what it seemed like when my fingers were inside you."

"H-Hah, M-Miguel...Don't say things like that...out loud," You whimpered. Miguel pulled you closer,

"Hm? Are you getting wet just by me saying it? What a naughty girl,"

"Mhm, Miguel~"

"Show me how sorry you are."

Miguel resisted a chuckle as you whined and got down on your knees. He motioned you under his desk and watched you crawl over before undoing his belt. Ah, how perfect you looked. Your lustful gaze just begging for him.

Miguel inhaled deeply the moment you started to stroke his cock. How nice this felt. Returning to his work, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the time. Any second now his next meeting should arrive. Oh, how cruel Miguel was.

---------

Was today finally going to be the day? You eagerly got on your knees under his desk and started to please Miguel. He was driving you insane with all this teasing. As you undid his belt, you kept glancing up at Miguel.

Ugh, the eye contact made you melt.

Taking his cock out, you pouted as you started to stroke his shaft. Oh, what you would do to have this inside you. To have Miguel ravish you and make you his. Gosh, you had a dirty and unhealthy mind. This man was straying you from good!

Dazed as you glanced up at Miguel, you swirled your tongue against his cock, hoping for praise. Miguel rested his hand against your head, stroking it as you treated him. Your thumb pressing his tip slightly as you felt him twitch from your tongue.

"Good girl,"

Oh, those words made your panties soaked. Bringing your lips to his tip, you hummed as you twirled your tongue against it. Miguel only grunted in response before he started to type away. This made you frown since you wanted his attention.

Taking his cock in your mouth, you closed your eyes to the bitter taste as you started to suck. As you were getting into the groove, you flinched as you heard the doors open.

"Good morning, sir. I've brought the files you requested."

"Hm, you're late. I should have had these before I walked in." Miguel spat.

You were shaking as you slowly moved your mouth away from Miguel's dick. Why didn't he tell you he had a meeting? Gasping quietly, you felt Miguel's hand press your head back to his cock. Oh, he was mean. Biting your lower lip, you returned to sucking Miguel off.

"Did you get the other thing I requested?" Miguel asked.

"Yes...Sir, not to sound rude, but why couldn't you have gotten (Y/N) to do it?" The man questioned.

You flinched at the mention of your name.

"Are you telling me how to handle my own assistant?" Miguel chuckled darkly, his cock twitching more as you fasten your pace, "(Y/N) is doing something far more important than the task I've given you. Now, I suggest you leave before I get anymore angry."

"...Yes, sir..."

Feeling your eyes water as Miguel's cock hit the back of your throat, you tried to breathe through you nose. You were waiting for the other associate to leave. Hearing the door shut, you whined as Miguel's hand returned your head.

"Now, now. Kept going while I had someone in here, how bold." Miguel teased, moving your head at a faster pace, "I might have to reward you after all."

Ah, those words made you quiver. Wincing as you felt Miguel hold your head down, you moaned as he grunted and cummed in your mouth. You swallowed hard and coughed as you moved your head away from his cock.

"You're....so....mean," You whined.

Miguel just chuckled lowly as he wiped your face. He pulled you onto his lap, adoring how easily you caved for him. How easy it was to turn the city's hero into his little sex doll.

"But, you did hide your secret from me for a while,"

"Miguel~" You cried softly.

Why was he tormenting you like this so much? Grinding yourself against his still exposed cock, you whimpered and begged into his ear. Miguel held your waist, just grunting and groaning to your attempts.

"Now, now. You were just being a good little Spider," Miguel said with a sigh, fixing your skirt, "I'll give you a taste."

You gasped as Miguel placed you on his desk. He lifted your skirt and started to rub his cock against your panties. You knew that Miguel wanted you to wear more skirts, was this the reason? To torment and tease you?

"M-Mig-" You whimpered a moan as he rubbed against your clit.

"Hm? Want my fingers instead?"

"Hah~ N-No~"

---------

Miguel could see the tears in your eyes with every stroke. You were desperate, ready to cum. Miguel was tormenting himself as well. Moving you panties aside, Miguel groaned lowly as he rubbed his cock directly against your dripping cunt.

"H-Hah~ Ah~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.

Miguel held your legs as he easily moved his hips. The thoughts of getting you pregnant were oh so delicious. Your moans were music to his ears. Just the thought of anyone else being in your shoes angered Miguel.

You were the only one for him.

"M-Miguel~" You moaned, arching your back as his dick hit your clit, causing you to cum.

"Heh, some stamina." Miguel teased once more.

"P-Please, Miguel...P-Please put it inside," You begged.

Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek. Your pussy was making a wet mess on his desk as it clenched to nothing but air. If Miguel had a condom, he might just give into your advances. Shit, who would have thought that he was now going crazy over you?

"I can't, just behave." Miguel hissed.

Putting you on your stomach, Miguel pressed your legs together and squeezed his dick between them. You gasped and cried out as Miguel slapped his hips against your ass, giving you rough thrusts against your drenched cunt.

He wasn't fucking you, but he was giving you an experience. Miguel held your arms behind your back as he enjoyed the feeling of his dick between your legs.

Soon.

Your moans were filling his office as Miguel kept attacking your clit. Grunting lowly as you cam again, Miguel released your arms to hold your waist.

Soon.

Groaning your name lowly, Miguel took a moment as he cam between your legs. You body still twitching as he moved away, admiring the view.

Soon.

Grabbing some napkins, Miguel proceeded to clean himself up. He then moved onto you, watching you sweat and pant for air. If this was the state you were in now, Miguel couldn't wait to see what would happen when he actually fucked you.

Miguel stroked your cheek, kissing you for a job well done. You were making a mess of him. Once you were clean, you promptly returned to his lap, quietly sitting in place until Miguel requested for your help once more.

--------

Aaron sat in the lunchroom, watching some of the workers acting out. Everyone knew it was the effects of Rapture. It was almost that time of month for those affected associates to get their dosage of Rapture.

"Psst, I've told some of the others. They're willing to give you some of their supply for this month."

"Thanks, that's more than enough to do the job." Aaron whispered back. The other worked scoffed, sitting beside him,

"You're insane for trying this."

"The only way to stop a villain is to give him his just desserts."

"And how will you do it?"

"I'll just have to ask (Y/N) a favor,"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd

[gatorbites-imagines]

HOBiE BROWN NSFW AND SFW HEADCANONS PLS 🙏🙏🙏

LAWD i am soo down bad for that man, good lord. 😩

If hobie tells me to jump from a building, I WOULD AND I'D THANK HIM⁉️⁉️🙏

-🥚 anon (its been so long since we've interacted, but im always lurking on your account and checking them out, but not like your post it because you deserve better :)

Hobie Brown sfw alphabet

Have an alphabet

I am love Hobie Brown :).

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hobie isn’t the most physically affectionate I believe, at least in public. He just doesn’t come across as someone who’s all lovey dovey more the most part. When youre alone though? He flops in your lap, good luck getting out.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This man would both die and kill for you as your bestie. He definitely corrupts you, or enlightens you, in the ways of being punk and why capitalism sucks ass. DIY makes you clothes, sews spikes into your jackets, and puts patches on your pants for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man is all hard and sharp edges, it probably takes a while to get used to cuddling with him without being jabbed by his elbows or shoulders. He likes to cuddle after you guys have been together for a while, and he knows he wants to stay with you. Big spoon and little spoon, doesn’t matter.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think he would want to settle down, at least for a very long time. Settling down would be too boring for him, he likes excitement in his life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hobie isn’t one to beat around the bush, so hed just tell you. Get it done and over with.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Honestly? I don’t think Hobie believes in marriage. Its just a way to spend a lot of money for a piece of paper, a part of the machine of society, or something like that.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I think he secretly can be quite gentle, he’s great at being there for you emotionally if you are struggling. He does tend to be quite tough, but if you are struggling hes there for you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes to hug, though it tends to be one armed hug or him throwing his arm over someone’s shoulder. After a long patrol he comes home to you though, and just wants to hold you for a while. Like with cuddling hes all sharp edges, but its comfortable in its own weird way.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He wouldn’t say it very fast, probably a few months since he has to make sure you are the one. He also doesn’t find it that important to say, since he expresses his love through actions.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Hobie doesn’t come across as the jealous type for the most part, he doesn’t go through your things or want you to not have friends who are certain genders. He does make his move though if anyone else is flirting with you. He wouldn’t start fights unless the other person started it first, but he will finish it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses would be intense, especially after you two have grown to truly love one another. He always kisses you like its gonna be your last. He loves kissing you on the lips and your hands, he likes when you kiss his hands too or his forehead when you cuddle.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Hobie is great with kids, he treats them like their own people and respect them, which means the kids love him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He sleeps late most days because he’s out at night being spiderman, so most mornings are spent cuddling as he doesn’t wanna get up just yet.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’s out most nights as spiderman, and when he isn’t you two always go out to do things, like go to concerts, protests, go hang out with other people or just to have fun. Though you also have nights where it’s just the two of you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hobie would wait a while before opening up about himself, since he’s spiderman and the life he’s lived, he can’t just trust anyone. There most likely still things about him you don’t know, but you know he will tell you if it’s important.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hobie is pretty patient, for the most part. Though it depends on who you are, if you are a fascist, a racist, or anything like that, he has absolutely no patience.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Hobie remembers most things you tell him because you are important to him, so he makes sure to keep it in mind. He probably remembers the small things you assume he will forget.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Definitely if you guys have had a spiderman kiss. It’s the smaller things, like when you two are sitting together in his apartment and he’s just playing on his guitar when you mess with his wicks, or cuddling, or if you paint his nails for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Depends on the situation, for the most part he knows you can protect yourself. But if he knows you need it, he steps in swinging. He won’t let you get hurt if he has any say. Part of him would also like if you protected him too, even though you both know he can protect himself.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

It truly depends on the situation, for the most part he doesn’t put too much effort into dates. It would just be things like you two going out to get some food to go and sitting on a bench and talking, or even bringing it home. Or going to a concert or something like that. Of course, he has his moments, for anniversaries or if he just feels like it, where he makes a bigger deal out of it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His apartment is a mess, like wow. But its like an organized mess. But if you don’t like messes its probably difficult. He most likely has a pair of crust punk pants too, so do with that as you will.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn’t concerned at all, he doesn’t believe in vanity and the level of power society puts on appearances. As long as he’s comfortable, he doesn’t care.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

After a while, yeah. After your lives have become very intertwined, he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Can do so many different types of art. Sewing, knitting, painting, sculpting, woodwork, the list goes on and on. He’s also so incredibly smart, and has memorized like, all the laws in the area he lives, so he can throw them back in the faces of people who would try to arrest him or someone else.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Vanity, if you care way too much about appearances or what others think about you. If you are super rich, he doesn’t like capitalism, so he probably wouldn’t like a partner who’s involved with it more than normal.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

His sleep habits are as messy as any other spider-person. Goes to sleep late, sleeps late in the morning. Goes longer periods of time without sleeping when working on things, you have to drag him to bed at times.

[impactedfates]

I was wondering if I could request an IL dan heng x Wolf Reader based of 1.2 quest reader has wolf ears and tail kinda like foxian charcters maybe reader was worried about Dan heng after battle and sees his new form when first sees him she low key gets flustered kinda mesmerizing by him literally just wags her tail out instinct just pure fluff cuteness 💗🤭

A/N: Hello! And yes you can request this >:D I wrote this in the scenario story thingy way. Idek what to call it, but bullet pointed scenarios that make a story. Like I did with the Yanqing and Blade fic. Hope you don't mind aha. (Also I rlly hope this is fluffy)

Warnings: None (I think)

Extra: Fem! Reader but no pronouns used other then 'you' 'your' ect // Reader has wolf ears and tail // Proof read by myself but if I missed anything please tell me

You were a researcher on Hertas space station, which is where you met Dan Heng :)

At first he was rather quiet, but you tried to still talk to him when you could, you found him interesting and rather cute.

Eventually your two became friends, that friendship blossomed into a loving relationship.

You joined the Nameless so you could stay close with Dan Heng, he always knew how you felt due to how your ears and tail would move. You were usually always okay with showing your emotions in full, never being flustered if he saw how happy you were by just seeing him.

You weren't even ashamed when he caught your tail and ears being droopy when he came back from his mission on Belobog, all because you missed him, they quickly rose when you saw him though.

You were fine with showing him how you felt all the time...expect this one time when the express went to the Loufu.

You stayed on the express with Himeko and Dan Heng, at least until Dan Heng decided to leave and find his friends.

Himeko could tell that you were feeling down about not seeing your boyfriend for so long, and soon insisted for you to go and find him.

So you do that, bidding her and Pom Pom farewell. As you quickly left to find your quiet boyfriend.

You looked everywhere, I mean everywhere but you couldn’t find him. So you eventually asked around, the locals, shop owners and eventually a cloud knight (a certain sword lover)

Yanqing was confused why you were looking for him, he was a criminal of the Loufu. But at the same time, you seemed really worried. He reluctantly told you and said he’s go with you to find him. (He wouldn’t be able to arrest Dan Heng anyways, he knows his dad Jing Yuan is there)

So you get there, but there were Cloud Knights guarding the place, and even with Yanqing there they couldn’t allow you to enter.

You paces around back and forth, worried. You wanted to see your boyfriend again, but now you’re hearing he’s fighting one of the 7 Lord Ravangers???

After what seems like forever, you could spot March, Welt and the Trailblazer walking towards you.

Upon seeing you, Welt was quick to lecture you about coming on the Loufu as it could’ve been dangerous.

You were listening…until a familiar voice reached your ears. They twitched a bit as you look over seeing someone handing an unconscious man to the cloud knights.

You know that voice. It’s Dan Heng!

“Dan Heng?”

You softly called out, as you walked away from Welt, earning a sigh from the grandpa him.

Dan Hengs head looks over to you and his gaze softens.

“[Name]…what are you doing here?”

He asked, but you couldn’t respond. How could you? I mean look at him. His outfit, his longer hair, horns. He looked nearly completely different…but it was still him.

Oh how pretty...

W a i t a m i n u t e

“[Name]~ Your tails wagging, do you like Dan Hengs other form that much?”

You snapped your head behind you and stared, your tail was indeed wagging...a lot...

Dan Heng peered over and stares at the tail that you were currently trying to calm down with an embarrassed face.

Dan Heng let out a rare chuckle, coming over and wrapping his arms around you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Don't be shy dear, if you like this form then...I guess I'm not opposed to showing it more often for you"

March teases you about it all the time when you return on the express, even calls the two of you 'tail buddies'

Dan Heng doesn't tease...exactly anyways, at certain times he'd show his form just to pull you in with his tail and cuddle you, knowing that you haven't really gotten over how majestic he looks.

He honestly loves how much your tail wags when he shows his form, especially since you cannot control it no matter how much you try.

You obviously love both his forms, he just finds it amusing how much you seem to love his more dragonic form.

He especially finds it amusing that out of all the things you could've felt embarrassed from due to your ears and tail revealing things. It was him seeing your reaction to his dragon form that got you flustered the most.

Sorry if this is short!! :(

Dragon Dan Heng has my heart I love him sm, my cute lil dragon boy. So happy I won my 50/50 and got his LC (In fact, I have my next LC guaranteed cuz I got the Bailu LC on 4 pity, limited LC banner Ü)

Also, 2 posts in one day (my time) is somehow an achievement to me.

[kittenofdoomage]

In case you missed it...

I'm currently posting a fic a day over on Ao3 for my Tropetober A-Z event on Patreon last year. It's a different character every day from different fandoms, mostly smutty (you know me). All red underlined links lead to AO3, please read the warnings on individual stories 😘

The fics:

A: Alpha/Beta/Omega - Winter Nights

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You’re an Omega who lives at Kaer Morhen, unmated but belonging, almost like a pack Omega to the Alpha Witchers; Geralt, Coen, Lambert and Vesemir, though the elder Witcher is long past any need for you. Geralt is close to rut when he returns, and seeks you out.

B: Bodyswap - Worth The Wait

(John Winchester x fem!reader) Some supernatural beings don’t want to hurt anyone, they just want to prove a point.

C: Character Death - The One Good Thing

(Negan x fem!reader) You waited so long to have him back, and he’s waited so long to get back to you, now you can be happy again… right?

D: Dark fic - On Our Terms

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) A sorcerer out for revenge leaves you in a dangerous position, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it out of this one.

E: Enemies To Lovers - Trapped

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) An incident on a mission leaves you and Bucky trapped in a vault. Being sealed in a relatively small space is a problem on its own, but you’re faced with another dilemma; you absolutely hate Bucky Barnes.

F: Fake Dating - Keeping Up Appearances

(John Winchester x fem!reader) You haven’t heard from John in three months, after he abandoned you, but now he needs your help on a case. Are you willing to ignore your feelings to help him?

G: Glad To Be Alive - All Is Not Lost

(Negan x fem!reader) A sequel to "The One Good Thing" which was letter C of Tropetober.

H: High School Sweethearts - Bittersweet

(Steve Rogers x fem!reader) In any time or place, she'd love him.

I: I Don't Want To Ruin Our Friendship - Mistakes

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) She took a chance and it broke her heart - can Bucky fix the mistake he made?

J: Just Friends - Nightcap

(John Winchester x fem!reader) She’s sick of correcting everyone, and alcohol loosens the tongue.

K: Kiss Of Life - Near Miss

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Geralt saves your life, then reminds you to never nearly die again.

L: Love Potion - A Wee Favor

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader x Sam Winchester) Dreams can come true.

M: Mates - Crossed Paths

(Alpha!Geralt Of Rivia x Omega!fem!reader) Destiny put them in each other's way for a reason.

N: New Old Flame - Always Yes

(John Winchester x fem!reader) They came so close to something special, only to have it torn away; is there any hope left for them now?

O: One True Love - Backseat Lover

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) He's been keeping a secret from her, and when they're stranded alone for hours, he finally has to come clean.

P: Please Don't Leave Me - Vigil

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) He's halfway through a mission when something he can't fight happens.

Q: Queen Size Bed - Never Have I Ever

(John Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester) Drinking can lead to all sorts of decisions, luckily, these are good ones.

R: Roommates - Sleepless

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) Turns out, the solution to the problem was there all along.

S: Soulmates - Runaway

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You run away from the life your parents want for you, and finally find your soulmate in the most unlikely of places.

T: Time Travel - Time Breaks All Things

(John Winchester x fem!reader) - A misstep on a case puts them somewhere they didn't expect to be, and they're not sure if there's a way home again.

U: Unresolved Sexual Tension - Seize The Sam

(Sam Winchester x fem!reader) Dean "Matchmaker" Winchester strikes again.

V: Virgin - Life Lessons

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) The night that Geralt learned his most valuable life lessons…

W: Werewolf - The Wolf Moon

(Henry Cavill x fem!reader) A night of camping leads her right into the arms of fate.

X: Xenafication - Rough

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Something changes you, and Geralt isn't sure it's a good thing.

Y: You Can't Fight Fate - Ships In The Night

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) She keeps running to avoid heartbreak but she's breaking all the same.

Z: Zombies - Full

(Negan Smith x fem!reader) She knows she shouldn't, but the problem is, she wants to, real bad.

If you do check any of the fics out, please let me know what you think 😊

[pxrxcxa]

What are friends for

✶ One shot

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+.

Post summary | Eddie & y/n have been friends for as long as they can remember, platonic soulmates as his Uncle Wayne called them. But when one of their usual late night sesh talks takes a heated turn, they show each other the real meaning of friendship.

What to expect | 18 + so minors DNI

Post Warnings | Smut, p & v unprotected sex, f & m oral, Eddie Dom, but still being a sweetheart.

Word count | 3.7 K Word Count.

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | I'm posting this at 12 am on my birthday as a little gift from me to you, thank you for being patient while I've worked on my series. I've been planning on getting some more OneShots out, so hopefully you've enjoyed this one.

___________________________________

I snatched the joint hanging between Eddie’s lips, grinning at him playfully as he glanced up at me in frustration.

“Don’t you ever go home?” He remarked condescendingly, taking the blunt back as I blew smoke towards him. I was lounged across his soft carpeted floor on my stomach, flipping through Eddies nudie mags, laughing and giving him shit over the pages he’d dog eared. He was resting against his headboard, stringing his guitar string seductively, watching me kick my legs back in forth in the air. I watched his long fingers stroke the cords softly, as heat flooded my cheeks and my legs throbbed. I averted my eyes, cursing the weed for hiking up my libido ten times its normal strength. 

“Your place is better - case in point.” I smiled widely as his Uncle Wayne hovered at the bedroom door, looking down on us fondly. 

“It wouldn’t kill you two to open a window now and again.” He teased, as Eddie and I passed the blunt back and forth. 

“You heading off to work Wayne?” I rested my feet back on the ground and angled my body so I could look up at him better. I watched Eddie out of the corner of my eye pull a blanket over him to cover his lower half. 

“Yeah, make sure you guys sleep early for school tomorrow. If I catch you guys ditching again, you’re both going to be in trouble.” His denim jacket flapped behind him as he sauntered down the hallway. 

“Oh, we’re gonna sleep alright.’ I wiggled my brows at Eddie suggestively, earning a deep laugh as he chucked a pillow down at me. 

“You’re an idiot.” I joined in on his laughter as my eyes fell back to the magazine in my hands. I smiled as the soft music picked up again, rebounding off the walls of his small room. Most people misjudged Eddie, those that didn’t know him – hated him. But as someone that was lucky enough to be in his inner circle, having been friends since middle school when I punched a kid out for making fun of his buzz cut, I was privy to his secret soft side he kept hidden away from the critical world. 

I was glad that we had made up from our fight earlier, foreign jealousy had flooded through me when I caught him sneaking back from the woods with Chrissy Cunningham in tow, after first period. I had barely given him a second to breathe as he slid into his usual seat beside me at lunch, before unleashing a mass of profanities. Confusion clouding his face at my reaction, he grabbed my chin to force me to look at him, explaining that he was just dealing to her. My eyes had dropped from his in embarrassment, the rest of the table silent as my outburst hung in the air heavily. 

“Jealous much y/n?” He teased, breaking into a mischievous grin. I punched his arm lightly, the tension disappearing between us completely as the topic of conversation turned to Hellfire. 

I refused to acknowledge whatever feelings seeing him with some other girl that wasn’t me, had stirred up inside of me. Eddie was my best friend, nothing else was worth to risking losing that.

I glanced up at him now, watching his dark curls twist at the base of his neck over his collar bones, a fresh cigarette between his teeth since we’d polished off the weed. He must have sensed my gaze as his eyes flew up to meet mine, something flashing in his eyes as I dropped mine in embarrassment at being caught staring. 

I turned my attention back to the pages I flicked through quickly, stopping abruptly as a familiar pair of eyes stared back at me. I slowly lowered my hand and smoothed the page out, I saw that it wasn’t my face that stared back at me as I’d thought, just a very similar looking underwear model. She was lounging on a couch, the image spreading across both pages. Apart from the fact that her body was perfectly airbrushed, I swore she was a dead ringer for me. Same sized tits, similar body shape and identical eyes. 

“Hey look at this.” I said, sitting up abruptly, only to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on me. “She looks like me, don’t you think?” I laughed, to distract myself from the intensity of his glare. I tossed it onto the end of the bed between us, landing with a light smacking sound as the pages crinkled together. He eyes flashed away from it instantly, recognition flaring in his face. 

“Uh yeah, maybe, I don’t know, I can’t really see the resemblance.” Eddies’ face went bright red, looking everywhere except for me as he sat up off the side of the bed, readjusting his jeans. I glanced back down to the magazine, realising only too slow that the open page of the model was also dog eared, crumpled viciously around the edges like someone had opened the mag to that exact page one too many times. 

“Oh.” I whispered, drawing Eddie’s attention back to me as he gauged my reaction. I fixed my stare onto his face, never leaving it as I reached to my hips, pulling my shirt that was tucked into my jeans up over my head and tossing it into a corner of his room. Eddie gulped nervously as my breasts swelled over my bra, a sight that he had never seen before. His eyes trailed down my stomach as I undid my belt, refusing to meet my eyes as I spoke. 

“It’s late, we should head to bed Eddie.” I swiped an old hellfire t-shirt off his dresser and skipped to the bathroom, my heart pounding as heat blossomed in my lower abdomen. It wasn’t unusual for me to sleep in his bed with him when I stayed over, both of us were too stubborn to take the couch. I had said it would be the gentlemen thing for him to do, but Eddie argued back that it was ‘his bed so his rules.” We compromised by usually building a pillow wall between us. 

When I headed back to his room, wearing only his shirt, Eddie had already turned the lights down and snapped open his bedroom window, knowing that I liked to sleep with a breeze pouring through the room. He was gently resting above the covers, playing with the draw strings of his pyjama pants and not wearing a shirt, naturally. He had taken advantage over my absence to get changed quickly as well, leaving his jeans pooled in a mess next to the bed. I picked them up for him and folded them over his desk chair, sliding in next to him under the covers. He didn’t look up or say anything as I snuggled down next to him, but I heard his breathing increase. 

“Hey Eds.” I murmured, listening to him squirm next to me as he adjusted himself into a comfortable position.

“Yes y/n?” He answered cautiously, smiling to myself at his uneasiness, letting him dangle for a little bit. He nudged my back with his knee when I didn’t respond instantly. 

“I’m glad we’re okay after this morning.”  He huffed out a relieved breath and huddle down under the blankets with me, he’d neglected to build a pillow wall between us this time so I could feel the intense heat radiating off his body, I pushed my freezing toes against his legs, electing an annoyed groan from Eddie. 

“S’all good sweetheart, what are friends for.” He whispered, letting my frozen limbs assault him without further complaint. His hot breath fanned across the back of my neck, sending shivers up my spine as he quickly fell into a deep slumber. 

I envied how fast Eddie managed to fall asleep as I tossed and turned hours later, my earlier frustrations bubbling up to the surface. The throbbing had returned between my legs as I became acutely aware of Eddies hulking form towering over me. 

Fuck it, our friendship was strong enough to withstand anything. 

I pushed myself backwards, pressing my ass into his crotch and grinding softly, his soft snores haltered as a strong hand shot out to grip my hip, holding me in place. 

“What are you doing?” His gruff voice broke through the darkness. 

“What does it look like?” I shot back sarcastically, rubbing my ass up and down, grinning as I felt him harden under the sheets between us. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” I scoffed slightly at him, both of us were anything but innocent, I had gotten around almost as much as Eddie had. We even shared sex tips, as cute besties did.

“That’s not what your dick thinks.” I nodded beneath the covers, turning my head slightly to get a look at his expression. His hand tightened at my hip, almost ripping the fabric away that sat there. My breath hitched in my throat and my confidence faltered as his eyes darkened, hunger taking over his face. 

“That’s not what I mean, if you keep going y/n… I’m not going to be able to stop.” He allowed some room between us as I turned over to lay on my back, he was half hovering over me now, his hand still at my side. His shirt that I was wearing had ridden up to expose my abdomen and my silky underwear, his eyes travelled down my chest to devour the sight. 

“If you don’t roll over and go back to sleep right now y/n” He warned, his hand moving up to caress my waist. “We can’t go back.” 

His eyes sent an unforeseen knife of need through me, twisting in the pit of my abdomen as a recognizable craving grew there. 

I bit my lip and cupped his cheek, tracing the outline of his lips with my nails. 

“I don’t want to go back.” I moaned. It was enough to push us both over the edge, he flattened himself against my body as I wrapped my legs around his waist, ripping the sheets out of the way that tangled around us. He crushed his lips to mine as a desperate moan escaped him, the sound drove me crazy as I knotted my hands in his hair. He pulled me forward from the pillows, pausing for a moment to run his eyes over my shielded body. 

“You look so fucking sexy in my shirt y/n.” He groaned, running his hands down the sides of my stomach. As he reached the hem of the shirt, he ripped it over my head.

“But even better with it off.” He nodded to himself, his hands immediately reaching to cup my breasts through my lacy bra. He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin under my jaw. I gasped loudly and smacked his shoulders. 

“No hickeys.” He bit my neck once more before wrapping a large hand around it and squeezing lightly. My eyes widened as he pulled back to look at me, his face aflame with need. 

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to. You understand?” I nodded meekly as pleasure wracked my brain from the lack of oxygen. He smirked at my reaction, knowing I had a thing for dominant men, I had told him more than enough times during our late-night talks. I had started off in control, but Eddie had ripped it from my grasp. I reached up behind me to unclasp my bra, but his soft hands quickly stopped me. 

“Actually y/n, I’ve been fantasising about this for as long as I can remember. I want to savour every moment.”

He laid me back gently against his bed, tracing kisses from my jaw line down my sternum, he caressed the side of my neck where his fingertips had pushed into. As he made his way to the top of my panties his eyes flicked up through his lashes to gaze at my face, I stared down at him nervously, not having to imagine how good he was going to be at eating pussy. We had spent hours going back and forth, teaching each other how to be good hook-ups for other people. Now I was about to find out if he’d paid any attention. 

I spread my legs wider to make more room for him as he settled between my thighs, nibbling at the soft inner skin there, leaving wet kisses behind as he travelled the length of my legs, teasing me beyond what should been allowed. He skimmed his palm across my clothed pussy, he barely touched me, but it still sent a bolt of pleasure through me. 

“Jesus, y/n, you’re so wet already.” he laughed, sending vibrations through my body as he brought his mouth close to my clit, looking up at me teasingly as I squirmed. 

“Shut it Munson.” I groaned, trying to wiggle down and close the distance but his strong arm pressed down on my abdomen, keeping me in place. 

“Patience baby.” He traced a long finger up and down my slit, pressing against my entrance through my panties. 

I gasped and moaned as his thumb made slight circles around my clit.

“Eddie, please I’m begging you. Oh fuck.” I nearly screamed as he pulled my panties to the side and his mouth replaced his thumb. His deep laugh at the way I writhed, between my thighs did unspeakable things to my body. He gently suckled at my sweet spot, pulling on it between his teeth softly. I dug my nails into his arm still stretched across my stomach for support. He reached up with his free hand to pull my bra down, freeing both of my tits. His fingers twisted and pinched my nipples painfully until they both became erect, as his tongue continued to lap at my pussy, increasing the wetness that saturated the sheets beneath me already. He moved his hand down back between my thighs as I moaned his name, the burning heat growing closer to the edge with each lick.  

“Fuck you taste so good y/n” He moaned between my legs “Even better than I thought.” He brought a finger to my entrance and slipped it into the base of his knuckle, not giving me any time to adapt to the feeling of it. He lifted his head up to watch me shudder beneath his touch, his eyes twinkling with excitement and his chin dripping wet. I laughed and gasped as his finger curled inside of me, as I reached down to wipe myself off his face, bringing my own fingers back to my mouth to suck the taste of me off of them. His pace increased as he hovered over me, adding an extra finger in to stretch me as far as I would go. 

“Say my name. I wanna hear you say who’s making you feel this good.” He brought his face close to mine, biting my lip as he pumped away between my legs. I couldn’t speak, I could barely breath as my orgasm threatened to spill over. Sensing I was close he sat back on his heels, pulling his fingers out from me and licking my essence off them, I grabbed his hand as it fell to his side and shoved his fingers as far as they’d go down my throat, moaning at the taste of me as I watched his eyes roll back into his head. 

With a jolt he reached back down between my shaking legs, entrapping my clit between two of his knuckles and rolling it back and forth, his rings gently clinking together. 

“Eddie I wanna cum.” I complained impatiently, my abdomen clenching. 

“Not yet baby, not yet.” I sat forward out of his grasp and quickly snapped the  draw strings of his pants loose, running my hands along his v-line. Two could play at this game, I thought. He threw his head back as I pulled his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. When he had boasted to me about whatever hook-up he found at his usual bar, I thought he had been exaggerating about his size, as most guys did. But Eddie was huge to the point it sent a stab of fear shooting through me. Glancing up at him through my lashes approvingly, he grinned down at me, being able to read my mind as always. 

“Impressed are you y/n?” I smirked at him and began twisting my hand up and down his shaft, pooling salvia in my mouth. 

“You should know by now, I’m no liar-“ His droning was effectively cut off as I took the tip of him into my warm mouth, his salty pre cum washing over my tongue. I removed him with a little pop and licked from the base of his cock to the tip, dribbling a little to make my hand slide up and down easier. He groaned and put his hands behind his head, arching his hips forward to try and push himself further into my mouth. 

“Patience baby.” I mocked him, smiling up at him as I leant forward on my knees, arching my own back so he could see my ass a little better from his position. 

“Fuckkkk y/n, you look so pretty like that.” I moaned as I slid his entire cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue, Eddie shuddered and wrapped his hands in my hair, gently guiding my head back and forth. I sucked in my cheeks to tighten the warm feeling around his cock, he twitched with pleasure and rammed forward into my face. I choked and gagged, he pulled back instantly, his tip resting against my swollen lips. 

“Shit y/n, are you okay? Sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” He wiped a tear falling down my check, worry clouding his face. I kissed his palm to tell him it was okay and brought his dick back into my mouth gently, picking up a constant pace, tickling his balls like I know he loved. His hand moved from my face to cup the back of my neck, but more carefully this time. He started thrusting faster as I felt him getting close, as he moaned deliciously, I pulled away from him. He looked down at me incredulously.

“Wait what, come back y/n.” He tried to grab me, but I shuffled back up the bed, spreading my legs seductively as an invitation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Eddie, did you wanna cum?” I smiled deviously as he watched me play with myself, teasing him. “Tell me about the model in the mag by the way, did you pretend she was me when you were jerking off to it?”

‘You’re in trouble now.” He growled, reaching up to my ankles and dragging me back down the bed. I squealed as he pulled me against him, crushing his lips to mine as I smiled. With my legs still in his grip, he crossed them over so quickly that I flipped and landed face down in the mattress. I gasped as his intention hit me. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his hands around my hips and wrenched my pelvis backwards against his waist, his hard cock pressing against my clothed slit. 

“Let me show you what I imagined when I was jerking off over you y/n.” I could hear in his voice that he was smirking, and I reached between my legs to clasp his balls. He gasped and dug his hands into my skin. 

“Are you gonna talk or fuck me Munson?” He didn’t hesitate as he pulled my panties to the side and plunged into me, struggling a bit as he was more than I had ever been used to. We moaned as the sensation of my walls opening up to him hit us both. He paused as he bottomed out in me, letting me get used to the size of him, both of us gasping to catch our breaths. He grabbed my free hand to pin behind my back, his rings digging into my skin as he pressed down on me slightly, beginning to thrust into me. Each moan of pleasure he fucked from my body brought us both closer to the edge, our noises turning animalistic as we both raced towards our release. As my body began to convulse, he stopped and flipped me back over so I faced him, pushing back into me before I could miss the feeling of him.

“I want to watch that pretty face of yours while you cum y/n.” I gasped and pressed my mouth against his, running my tongue along his bottom lip to taste his delectable scent. At the feel of my mouth, he fucked me harder, keeping up the steady pace as my legs locked around him. I hid my face away in the crook of his neck while waves of pleasure crashed over me, he cried out in pain as I bit down on the soft patch of skin near his shoulder, my nails leaving matching scratches in his back. He fucked me through my orgasm until he pulled out and released his own across my stomach, shivering as he held himself above my frame, the prettiest noises I’d ever heard tumbling from his mouth. 

Eddie rolled to the side and held me tight for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of my hair before jumping off the bed and grabbing a random shirt from the floor. I moved my hand from swirling pretty patterns in his mixture as he gently wiped it off of me, he poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth while he made sure to clean all of it off of me. 

“I think that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had Eddie.” I breathed as a cloud of ecstatic bliss surrounded me. He grinned up at me through his beautiful lashes. 

“That’s what friends are for.” He joked, sitting up on the bed next to me to clean himself up. As he tossed the shirt away and pulled a cigarette to his mouth, I swung my leg over to straddle him, pushing his hands above his head against the bed frame, the gentle click of the handcuffs echoing around us as I wrapped them around his wrists, locking him into place. 

“My turn Munson.” I grinned, stealing the cigarette from his lips. 

___________________________________

Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series.

___________________________________

Copyright © 2022 by P.McCann

All rights reserved.

[mintymarabell]

Sfw alphabet with elder yautja

Warning: there is implied suicide at W.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s a clingy puppy, he always wants to be touching you. If it’s not holding your hand then he’s pressed up on you. He loves any and all affection you give him. Kiss his face and he’s gone..

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Honestly, he’d probably find you on earth and maybe you invite him in, from there he comes to your house and you spill all the drama about your ooman life. He listens intently and even adds in what he would’ve done.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling with you, he isn’t used to being touched in this kind of way, when you first introduced cuddling he was a little stiff but as time passed he became more comfortable with hugging up on you..

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’s old, he’s retired most likely, he’s settled down.. He's not really good at cooking but will learn if you want him too, he’s the type to wake you up in the morning with breakfast in bed that’s halfway burnt.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Unless you're unfaithful, he’ll never leave nor break up with you. He loves you and is loyal to you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

You’d most likely have to tell him what marriage and all that is but as soon as he finds out he’s getting down on one knee right then and there. He’ll have everything planned to get married in the next month, the wedding would be perfect and you might even see him sniffle as you walk down the aisle.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

So very gentle with you.. You’ve most likely seen him in battle or in a fight, this man can be a lean mean killing machine. But with you, he’s careful. He once scratched your side with his claw and never forgave himself, he now keeps his nails dulled. He treats you as if you are a glass figurine.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are warm and welcoming. He hugs you as a greeting, on occasion he’ll pick you up but most of the time he just gets down on his knees so he can be eye level or lower than you. (Depends how low he’s slouching)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Probably isn’t a word in yautja, you’d have to explain it to him. Butttt as soon as he knows the meaning he’ll say it all the time, “goodbye ooman, love you” or “I love you ooman, stay safe for me.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s only jealous when your around male humans, he doesn’t like the thought of them having a better chance with you only because they are more ‘handsome’

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He can’t kiss… but he does rub his cheek on your face or body very often.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s a little awkward, he’s never raised his own as the mothers always kicked him out. Though he’s open to having a kid or two with you..

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

They are mostly depending if he has something going on. If he does you almost never gonna wake up with him still in bed. Though if he doesn’t have anything going on then it will be a lazy morning, he’ll have you on his chest while he rubs your back and legs, waiting for his sweet little ooman to wake up to give him kisses. (He enjoys morning kisses)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He usually massages your body before bed. When you both are in bed he is big spoon, subtly rubbing your sides.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s an open book. You're his mate, he will tell you anything you want to know.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It’s impossible to make him angry, he has tons of patience. If however he does get mad it’s almost never at you, if you're in the room when it happens he almost immediately walks out. He never wants you to see him like that..

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything about you, every detail, every word said. He would get a 100 on all quizzes about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When it was early in the morning, he walked out to the kitchen only to see his ooman in one of his coats making him breakfast.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is so very protective of you, he would die if it meant you were safe. Anytime you both are in public he always has a arm around you or is holding you hand.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He almost goes too all out, know what I mean? Like he once took you to an exotic planet all because you had wanted some fish. He had speared a fish and cooked it for you. On your one year anniversary he went out and bought that whole market you both went shopping at. He bought every single thing, even the things he didn’t need

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He’s possessive, anywhere you go without him he’ll ask a million questions, where’d you go? Who’d you go with? And so on. Another trait of his is that he sometimes expects you to lift heavier things that shouldn’t be lifted by an ooman. He’ll just say “oh you can do it just put your back into it.”

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Only when you both are visiting earth. He doesn’t have a handsome man face and sometimes he feels like you want a human face that can actually kiss you back.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Depression. That’s all. He’d pull his quills and rip at his tendrils. He would stop eating and doing any basic care. He would lay in bed clutching your pillow and just smelling it. Anything around the house that subtly reminds him of you will just break him down, falling onto the floor clutching the item and just curling in on himself. He’ll eventually just end it, just so he can be with you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He likes making you those cute little beaded necklaces and other jewelry pieces. When he can’t go out hunting it’s his only hope..

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t want a soulmate that’s rude or rough. He’s had to deal with female yautja his whole life, he doesn’t want to deal with another one.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He sometimes puts you in a choke hold, he doesn’t squeeze but at the same time he doesn’t let you go. So if you have to go use the restroom in the middle of the night you’ll have to find a way to wake him up. (Blow on his face)

[nextinline-if]

Next in Line (IF) - Updated Aug 2023

Demo (August 3, 2023) | Discord | Ask Me Anything | Tag List | Kofi | Patreon | TAGS TO BLOCK - TW

Demo Updated: August 3, 2023 (Chapter 2, Part 1)

You're next in line for the throne of Castelon, a fictional country loosely based on different periods of history, such as Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, and periods of England.

A 10-year war with your country's main adversary, Arandale, recently ended. Then your father, King Percival was assassinated. After his assassination, your twin, Prince James abdicated. Return home after 5 years and decide what kind of Harbinger you will be.

Prepare to step into a story of betrayal, love, and trust. Can you navigate your royal duties, solve your father's murder, and find love (or friendship) at the same time? Or, will the Gods withdraw their blessings from you?

Demo features:

Play as male, female, non-binary;

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Part 1;

Shape your MC's future and some of their past.

Pursue romance and/or friendship with 4 different characters.

Choose 1 of 3 Family Mottos.

Get a taste of "Attributes", which will unlock choices throughout the game. More Attributes will be available in the coming chapters.

Choose a patron god or goddess (optional).

Choose a pet (who you'll meet in chapter 2).

The final game will be rated Mature. The current version is rated 16+. Please note all of the below content is not in the demo but planned for the finished game. NSFW asks are tagged #nsfw so please block if applicable!

CW: suggestive language, references to war and the effects of war, death, references to death, exploration of grief, curse / swear words, possible violence, optional sexual content.

Next in Line features four romance options. View more characters + RO's ArtBreeder images by clicking here.

Sir Constantine Dimas | M, 26 years old, Taurus, #constantine dimas

Constantine is the best friend of your twin brother, James, and a Knight in Castelon's Elite Guard. He is fiercely loyal to your family and fought alongside James in the Arandale War. Like you, he finds amusement in teasing your brother.

"You're not too different from your twin, both reckless royals, so you probably need someone to care for you."

F. Faramund | M or F, 22 years old, Aquarius, #f faramund

Whether F was your first love or your ex-best friend, they broke your trust and disappeared. Now, they're back and seemingly apologetic. Bury the hatchet, rekindle your former relationship, or walk a different path altogether.

"The stars guided me back to you and I will stay as long as you allow."

Felix Faramund | M, 24 years old, Aries, #felix faramund

Felix is F.'s older brother and was someone you once considered a friend. Like, F., he's returned to Castelon. Unlike F., he can be quick to anger and he's not afraid to speak his mind. He can read the room, he just doesn't care. You can romance Felix, even if you loved F.

"Just know, I'll fight for what I want."

Lady Margaret | F, 22 years old, Gemini, #lady margaret

The mysterious Lady Margaret is a noble businesswoman who enjoys observing from the shadows. She's close to your mother, Queen Vivian. Although she is slow to trust others, those who earn her trust will find themselves in the company of a powerful and loyal ally.

"I can think of many ways to consume your time."

[lvrhughes]

All of the Girls You Loved Before | M. Marner

pairing: Mitch Marner x f!reader

Word count: 1k

summary: You and Mitch had been together through your teen years, but it didn’t last. As they say if they live something let it go, if it’s meant to be it’ll come back, giving you a new found appreciation for all the girls he loved before.

Warnings: none! so much fluff

Requested: yes

“We’ve gone over this before, I am with you, I’m not going out with other girls while you're away! If I wanted someone else I wouldn’t be dating you!” 

Mitch was mad this time, letting the average teenage insecurities take over and assume the worst, creating another late night fight. Another lame fight over the phone. 

“Mitch, I’m sorry-”

“No I don’t want to hear it right now, I think we should take a break.”

“Oh.” was all you said at the time, thinking back on it maybe you should’ve said no, maybe then you’d have had a longer relationship, but as they say if you love something let it go, if it’s meant to be they’ll come back. 

Your laugh echoed the empty streets, Mitch pulling you towards the town. The two of you had snuck out, planning on sneaking into town, It wasn’t a far walk anyways. Yet somehow the walk took longer than normal, maybe from how many times you stopped because you were laughing too much or when you stopped to take pictures, either way you didn’t know. But it was fun, he was holding your hand the entire time, killin’ time with each other. Until you had to sneak back in.

“Y/n Y/l/n, where were you!” your mothers voice was loud and Mitch, who was outside making sure you didn’t fall while climbing back into your window, could hear the anger in her voice. You got grounded for two weeks. 

Throughout your teenage years you knew Mitch had other girlfriends, but you were his first, but that stupid phone call ruined that. It’s safe to say none of his other girlfriends lasted, because, even though you broke up, you two tried to stay friends and he always came back with a new reason as to why she left. 

“She said that this was just a dead-end street, we had no future together.”

“That’s a new one, I like the originality!” 

“Ha ha, very funny.” Mitch deadpanned, making you burst out with laughter, the sound making his blank expression soften into a smile. 

Your 21st birthday, the first time you had gotten into a bar, legally, and you were going to have a good time, that’s what you said. 

You’d found a cute guy, the same age, he had a little resemblance to Mitch, maybe that’s why you found him. It was going well, you were having a good time with him, dancing and drinking. Until you saw Mitch, the one person you’d be trying to get over. 

“Um- Excuse me.” you stuttered before running to the bathroom, breaking down in tears. Crying' in the bathroom for some dude whose name I cannot remember now. 

You cleaned the messed makeup off as best you could before heading back out, trying to find what's-his-name again. He definitely left. You never found him after returning from the bathroom. No, instead you ran directly into Mitch, too busy looking around to look where you were going, you basically fell on him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” you scrambled to get up before he could say anything. 

“Y/n?” fuck, the way he said your name made you melt, he always was your weakness. 

“Hi Mitch.” was all you could mutter, even then the words barely came out, they were only a whisper, yet he heard them. Basking in the way you said his name, he always loved the way you said it. 

So your 21st wasn’t as bad as that sounded because it ended in Mitch bringing you home, asking for your new number since you must’ve changed it from when you were 17 and still talking to him, and a promise to rebuild the friendship that had ended. And you did rebuild the friendship, surprisingly quick, too. 

Going through boxes of old things in Mitch’s house, asking for help when he planned to move out from his parents, you found an old letter. One of the only letters he kept, you’d need to ask him if he still wanted this in his house seeing how it was signed. His name in a heart on the front of the letter, not your writing. But it was okay, whoever this was from led him back to you. You had his love now. 

“I’m so glad for all the girls you loved before.”

You looked up at him, laying on his chest, his hand on your back while he also laid on the couch.

“What?” he looked down at you, confusion was evident on his features. 

“The way you call me baby, the way you treat me like a lady.” you paused for a minute.

“All the girls you loved before, they made you the one I fell for. All the dead-end streets lead you straight to me, now you're all I need. So I’m thankful for the girls you loved before.” 

Mitch could feel himself melting at the words, pulling you closer and tighter. 

“God, I love you.” he mumbled before leaning down to kiss you. 

When you did try to pull away for air, he kept you close, peppering you with kisses. 

“Mitch- st-stop” your words being broken by giggles. He did not stop however, he flipped the two of you so you were no under him, his chain dangling in front of you. 

“Your mother raised you so loyal and kind.” You whispered, seeing his face change with the compliments.

“Teenage love taught you there’s good in goodbye.” He was so caught off guard by your random words he just stayed still, listening for what you’d say next.

“Every woman you’ve ever known brought you here.”

He stayed patient waiting for your next words. 

“I want to teach you how forever feels.”

He wasted no time kissing you again, practically laying on you now, trying to be as close as possible to you. 

“I guess I’m a little thankful for those girls too.” he mumbled against your lips, quickly pressing his back to yours after mumbling that. You smiled into the kiss, waiting a minute before pulling away. 

“I’m so thankful for all the girls you loved before, but i love you more.”

[conniesanchor]

peter parker sfw alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

peter will never not have his hands on you. if you're within arms distance, he has his hand on your thigh or waist. when you're on walks, he's holding your hand tight. lying down? you're laying on him.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

you've known each other forever. peter keeps to himself a lot of the time but never with you. it would be one of those friendships where you're not exactly certain when you became friends, you just became friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

peter hates the thought of you not near him. so, when you're just lying down? you're cuddling together. ofc he won't force you to be near him if you're having a day where you don't want to be touched, but he's always down to cuddle. he's normally the bug spoon but if he comes home from a hard night on patrol, he isn't opposed to letting you be it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

peter knows that he wants to marry you the second he sees you. he never used to believe in love at first sight, but then he met you, and his world changed. he will marry you, and he will make a great father if you are willing to let him. as for cooking, horrible cook. you eat takeout and unhealthy amount. he's always willing to help you clean up, though. constantly asking if you need any help.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if he had to, peter would only break up with you to keep you safe, and he would let you know that. he would do everything to avoid it though, you're his world.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

peter is 1000% sure about you, but he wouldn't rush anything. he would totally want to marry you, don't get me wrong, but he is the type of person who believes that marriage is just a piece of paper. i’d say he would propose after five or six years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

i can't see this man being anything but gentle. his tone is soft and kind. he's never harsh when he holds you, and his choice of words are never mean. he's only ever snapped at you a few times, and he was so apologetic afterward.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

peter LOVES hugs. when he gets home from patrol, he will find you and literally melt into you. if you're having a bad day, he walks up to you and wraps his arms around your neck and lays his chin on your head. if he's having a bad day, he wraps his arms around your waist and let's his head rest on your shoulder.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

not fast. like i said before, he is completely sure about you. he just doesn't want to rush you. he thinks that if he says it, you'll feel pressured to say it, too. he doesn't want that. he would be pretty upset when you say it first, though. he wanted to say it first, but when he knew you were sure, about him.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he would get jealous pretty easily. peter is a really insecure person and isn't really sure why you're with him. i think he def shuts down when he's jealous, but doesn't blame you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

he has never ever only kissed you once. even if you're fighting, he litters your face in kisses. he especially likes to rest his lips just behind your ear. but when you kiss him? he loves old fashion. he wants a kiss right on the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

he's great around kids, but he's confused as to why they like him. i think peter is very awkward but would do anything to make them happy.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

peter parker is a morning person. peter parker is willing to be less of a morning person when you beg him to stay in bed with you. enough said.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

peter is usually out patrolling at night. he gets home pretty late only to find you on the couch after a miserable attempt to stay up for him. he kisses your forehead and takes you to the bedroom, showers, and then goes to bed beside you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he's really closed off. it takes him a while to trust you fully, so he starts with baby steps. once he warms up a little bit, he tells you everything. he knows you, and you know him. he loves that you were happy to take small steps with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

in general, he has little to no patience. with you, he's probably the most patient man in the world. he knows everything about you and is more than willing to take things slow. he rarely ever blows up on you, and normally, it's after a long night out on patrol. he never means to, and he apologies profusely afterward.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

like i already mentioned, he knows you completely. he is always so attentive when it comes to you. whether it's something as little as your favorite color or bigger things that you're reluctant to tell others.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

call him cliché, but the moment you met. he will literally tell that story over and over to everyone you guys come into contact with.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

incredibly protective. i mean, come on. the man is spiderman. anyone goes near HIS person, he will riot.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

so so much effort. candlelit dinners for dates. big bouquet and expensive gifts for anniversaries. he is always willing to help you with anything, and he doesn't ever not try when it comes to you. this man is so afraid to lose you that he puts so much time and care into everything he does for you and with you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

peter lacks communication. he knows he does, and it makes him so sad when he sees you try to figure out what his problem is, and he can't tell you. he starts to work really hard at it when you come into the picture though.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

couldn't care less. i think he knows he's attractive but also kind of thinks that you like him for much more than his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

completely empty without you. he doesn't remember what life was like before you and can't picture it without you, after you. the thought alone makes him miserable.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

peter loves to pick you up. he literally finds an excuse to do it no matter what.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he would hate smoking. of course, he wouldn't not get with you. if he likes you, he likes you. he would strongly encourage you to quit, though.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

peter is a blanket hog. sorry, not sorry.

[theteapotofdoom]

Don't you think it's funny cause actual canon gay characters in BL manga will say "I love you" but only the shounen bromance can spew out some of the most romantic shit akin to a 19th century poet writing a letter expressing his surpressed love for his lover 😭.....

I honestly never read or watched BL but I still feel this so hard.

You said it best yourself, it's about the "suppressed" aspect of it all. I think one of the reasons that fans go so crazy for the shonen bromance is that it has to maintain a certain level of hype and intensity about all the aspects of its plot (including character relationships) BUT can't ever be anything more than a friendship (I mean objectively and realistically because we can fly close to the sun but I would be REALLY surprised if shonen jump ever allows an explicitly gay romance in one of its series).

So you find yourself in a situation where the author has to write a character dynamic that is just as hype and epic and intense and powerful as the fights they draw, without ever dropping the explicit "I love you" bomb. And just like you said, that's how we end up with a 19th-century poet confessing his secret suppressed love type of dialogue.

I definitely think that it's part of the appeal though. A lot of people CRAVE the suppressed love stories, with yearning and stolen glances and intense emotions that can never be shared. That's why we still love Jane Austen and gothic love stories centuries later. It's all about the slow burn babyyyy!

It also goes to show that people will go extra crazy for romance if there's a good plot attached to it. There are a lot of great stories where the relationship is the only focus and it's still amazing. But a love story being part of an ever bigger plot with higher stakes can make us go fully feral and that's what happens in Shonen.

FMAB is a pretty good example. Contrary to a lot of other shonen, it doesn't have a super strong homoerotic rivalry between two guys (unless you count Ed and Ling, because Edling is a GREAT SHIP but they're not exactly rivals like bakudeku or narusasu) and yet most of the main m/f ships are beloved by the fandom. People go crazy for Ed x Winry and Roy x Riza, because they fit a lot of the same tropes as your traditional shonen bromances. The yearning, the intensity, the slow burn, the saving each other in life or death situations ... both ships are canon and endgame BUT they are well developed and within an already great story with high stakes.

To conclude:

"I love you" = boring, done before, no spice ...

"I would go to hell for you if you asked me to" or "I will break every bone in your body if this is what it takes to bring you home and save you from him" = holy shit oh god holy shit hold on hold the fuck up holy shit oh my gooooooooood ..........

[thiaquiche]

Feedback Fest 2024

Since the @transformativeworks is holding a Feedback Fest in honour of International Fanworks Day, I figured I’d join in the fun and put together my own reclist for the occasion! So, in no particular order, here’s ten fics I love and why you should read them! I’ve got a wide spread of fandoms here, so hopefully you’ll find something interesting. I have all of these fics downloaded, so if you’re seeing this in the future and a link to something you’re interested in ends up broken, just let me know and I’ll gladly send you a pdf.

Something’s Wrong with Danny Fenton Vol. I by Perfectly_Inconspicuous

Danny Phantom. Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gen. 55 065 words.

Danny Fenton.

The enigma of Casper High.

It's the first day of the winter semester when she notices him.

She notices him for what feels like the first time. Maybe because at this point he's the only alternative kid other than her.

Or maybe because boom, there he is: the locker next to hers.

--

A No One Knows AU where Danny transfers from a different school to Casper during Junior year and ends up befriending Sam and Tucker. Written for Invisobang 2021!

Why you should read it: This fic packs a wonderfully creepy, unsettling atmosphere that really makes this horror!Danny premise come alive (ba dum tss), and makes the development of his friendship with Sam and Tucker feel all the warmer by comparison. It’s incredibly gripping.

Soldier, Poet, King by Stargaze_Sunflower

Ducktales 2017. Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen. 104 510 words.

Dewey has always felt like something was missing from his life. Something big. And really, it's just like him to get caught up in a kidnapping plot and stumble across the puzzle of his life on complete accident, and now he's got more pieces than he knows what to do with. Luckily, he's got help in the form of new friends, his moderate skills with a sword, and the determination to believe in the impossible.

This gives a whole new meaning to 'Found Family'.

Why you should read it: This fic is an awesome medieval fantasy romp, and it’s just plain fun.

Friendship Games by WhiteBAG

Milo Murphy’s Law. Teen and Up Audiences, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Gen. 42 662 words.

Milo and his friends enter the Friendship Games. Dakota and Cavendish time travel to fight the monster.

Why you should read it: Without saying too much, the way the time travel plot winds back on itself is just so much fun. Even now that I’ve left the fandom, and haven’t read this fic in a long time, I still find myself thinking about it.

More Than Legacy by PanellaDePonce

Pokémon. General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen. 11 637 words.

It was time at last for the 150th Annual Convention of Pokémon Sciences to begin. Every year, the brightest minds in the field would gather together to present their findings to an eager audience of burgeoning scientists and casual enthusiasts alike. 150 years ago it started in Jubilife Village, and today, the conference is held in Jubilife City.

Before the conference begins, however, many of the leading researchers gather together to argue and debate, verbally slap fighting and throwing around their theories and ideas. Lucas found this tradition tiring, annoying, and most of all, incredibly boring.

Little does he know, something very interesting is set to happen at the meeting. Something he wouldn't want to miss.

Why you should read it: This thing made me BAWL. I was fucking SOBBING. Waaaaaughhhhhhhhhhh

Give Me Healthy Coping, or Give Me Death by Prince_Enby

OMORI. General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, F/M (past Hero/Mari) and Gen. 5420 words.

There was something weird about how Kel was acting, Hero thought. Hero's thoughts were all over the place these days, though, so that observation probably didn't mean anything.

Still, though, he was curious about that glint in his brother's eyes. It was the look of a man on a warpath - and all over a bowl of soup.

Weird indeed.

Why you should read it: This fic is chicken soup when I’m sad, and I wanna share the comfort, plain and simple.

Mari Suzuki’s Overly Busy Afterlife by ShardOfHope

OMORI. Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, M/M (Basil/Kel/Sunny), F/F (Aubrey/Kim), and F/M (Hero/Mari). 127 480 words.

Mari never left Sunny after the accident. She forgave him and promised she would stay until he was ready to tell the truth. Until he was strong enough.

Four years of staying with her gremlin shut in brother has made her slightly regret that promise. Well, more then slightly.

A retelling with a ghost, and a brother with no survival instinct.

Why you should read it: This fic is riotously funny. Like, wheezing on the floor funny. Rolling around, falling down the stairs and breaking your neck funny. (Yes I did have to force a stairs joke in there. Sue me, but sue me after you read this fic.)

Coming to Light by Candyland1030 [DeviantArt]

Professor Layton and the Unwound Future. PG. 2819 words.

What goes around comes around. Sooner or later, everyone has to pay the piper.

Why you should read it: This is my favourite fic for seeing Bill Hawks get his comeuppance. A delicious dose of justice for a guy who got off far too easily in canon.

Theo’s Surreal Mountain-Climbing Adventure by CelestialHorizons (TerminalMiraculosis)

Celeste. Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen. 5519 words.

Madeline has been able to dash her whole life. She thinks this is rather mundane. Theo disagrees.

Why you should read it: Extremely funny depiction of speedrunning, also Theo is simply best boy. You agree. Read it.

An Empire of Ice by TimeCloneMike

Frostpunk. Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gen. 4621 words.

The Great Frost has come and gone. That was the easy part. Rebuilding human civilization? That's when things start to get difficult, even with automatons to do all the heavy lifting.

Why you should read it: Both oneshots are great, but I especially recommend the second chapter. The story of Project Legacy saving New Manchester in the actual game has always been touching to me, and this fic’s depiction of the rescue of New Manchester’s last scout gives me warm fuzzies every time. Both parts of this fic add a human element to the game’s more zoomed-out storytelling that I deeply appreciate.

Marital Bed, by MadameReveuse

Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask. Mature, No Archive Warnings, Multi (Randall Ascot/Angela Ledore/Henry Ledore). 3526 words.

A comedy in two parts.

The Masked Gentleman imagines all the ways in which Henry and Angela Ledore might have backstabbed him. Later, Randall sees it all with clearer eyes. Maybe his fantasy can still come true - in an altogether better, lovelier way. With himself included.

Why you should read it: I don’t normally talk about, let alone recommend, sexually explicit fics, but I read this one recently and just fell in love with the characterization. Considering sex in the context of Randall’s misguided hatred and Angela and Henry’s deceptive marriage adds an interesting layer to their whole *gestures* everything, and I found all of the headcanon ideas presented very plausible. However, warning for Azran Legacy spoilers offhandedly mentioned right at the beginning.

Bonus:

This awesome Miracle Mask AMV that has been so stuck in my head lately, lol. Editing’s great, song’s great, all around great. (Don’t watch unless you’ve finished Miracle Mask though, it’s spoilers.)

[riacte]

Part of the weirdness about m/f ships feels like this kind of performativity from insecure queer teens? At least I think so based on my own experiences. I've always been a big multishipper who likes f/f m/m m/f and any other kind of ship equally but there was awhile where I felt kinda ashamed if I liked a m/f ship "too much" bc I felt like I wasn't gay enough. Like I wasn't queer enough if I didn't ship gay ships enough. Even now (tho I've gotten better) I still feel this obligation to keep the ratios of ship fics I read "even" so I can prove I'm still a good queer. I think in my case it's probably part of my internalized biphobia (since I feel a similar obligation to make I prove I have attraction to all genders and am really bi "enough" in my actual daily life) and it's a similar feeling of stress at having to constantly police your own identity/attraction/interests.

It's unfortunate that this kind of insecurity in how queer we are seems so common in queer people especialky those of us who are young one w/out much actual dating experience (who make a large part of this fandom. This sort of "who even ships m/f lol gay ships only" I've seen others in this fandom doing feels very much like a way of coping with that insecurity, by proving you're gay enough through your ships. I'm sure there are plenty of people who simply are just not interested in m/f but I'm sure there are also others like me, trying to prove we're queer enough by carefully curating our fandom interests.

My thoughts on m/f ships is that the end of the day, shipping is just shipping. It doesn't actually necessarily say much about your sexuality or what you actually want in a relationship and certainly doesn't mean you're less queer.

(Obviously there are other factors too in the weird attitude ppl in the mcyt fandom have about m/f ships, but this is one that has affected me a lot and I've never seen anyone else talk about it so I wanted to bring it up. Idk I hope I made sense)

Thanks for the ask! It was really nice seeing this as a bi person who heavily mains m/f and sometimes feels bad for it (I also main friendships but I mained m/f reallllly hard pre 2020 aka. before this fandom).

Yeah, I feel like it could also be like "we see so much m/f in real life so we should go hard on the other options to even it out". This fandom specifically there's been problems of irl truthing in comments so I completely understand why people shy from it, but it's 2024, we're quite developed in the character vs cc divide, shipping m/f isn't the end of the world.

I do feel guilt over maining m/f (then liking f/f and m/m, in that order, yes Treebark is the exception and my first m/m that I really got into), like for a looong time I was pretty sure it was just terrible heteronormativity that I needed to kill, but now I feel like it's a mix of heteronormativity (which I fight like daily lmfao) and just. being attracted to men and women both. Because when I write m/f, I can write about being attracted to women and men all in one neat package. And it feels "equal" to me. I do tend to prefer pieces of media with an equal gender ratio, or at least the leads are (eg. Miraculous Ladybug (my ex fandom lmao), Kagerou Project (ex fandom, stares into the distance), Spy x Family, Assassination Classroom) so I can love male and female characters. When reading fics, I like reading about loving a man from a woman's pov and loving a woman from a man's pov. Even in HC with its highly uneven gender ratio, this manifests in the corner I've tucked myself into (False, Ren, Stress, Iskall, etc). Although I do also like media with mostly female characters - Love Live (another ex fandom lol), Precure, Madoka Magica, Nikkiverse - and I do read stuff, I just don't really write for them because I wanna write about girls AND guys. Shippy or not. And this leads me to main m/f a lot. That's my personal taste.

Side note: as a kid, I was frustrated by media aimed at boys which had like a whole cast of boys and one token (cardboard cutout) girl AND media aimed at girls which had a whole cast of girls and almost no boys. 9yo me in co-ed school was like "well this doesn't feel very pro gender equality, I want books with the same amount of boys AND girls :((((( oh wait. I can just write it." And.... it ended up defining what I write now? Even outside of shipping, I like m+f friendships a lot. Because I still get to write about a guy and a girl even if they don't kiss or whatever. Idk. Am I cursed with an extreme case of heteronormativity and / or internalised homophobia or am I bisexual. Maybe both. Idk.

Maybe I do have boring stupid milquetoast hetero taste whatever but I'm having a good time in my fandoms and my ships / dynamics. I like writing about my guys and girls and I'll keep on doing it. And I am queer. I am bisexual. This doesn't change.

Anyways watching HTTYD at a young age changed me. Hiccstrid you will always be my origin story <3

Thanks for the ask again! We don't have to prove our queerness because we are queer. Everyone has different tastes. And m/f does get a bad reputation in queer spaces because oftentimes it's done badly and ofc the enemy.... heteronormativity [evil].

Final note re sibling fanon: if you have to turn friends into siblings just to show you're not shipping, you are coming back to heteronormativity. Why can't a (straight) man and a (straight) woman be friends only. What assumptions are you making?

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Advisor,

I (M 21) have formed a tight-knit friend group in college. Yay! My closest college friends are the members of my ttrpg group, who we’ll call A, B, C, D, and E. A (F 21) and B (NB 22) have been dating for the whole time I’ve known them, about a year. Last year, A, B, and C lived in the same residence hall and were rarely apart. Now that B has graduated, the plan next year is for A and D to be roommates while C, E, and I live in a similar residence hall. I expect to see a lot of B, who plans to find a job and apartment in this town.

B is my friend, so this is *almost* fine. Except that while I like A, and I like B, it is painful to hang out with both of them at the same time. B is a fairly jealous person, and they get very upset and mean when A hangs out with friends without including them. When we get lunch together and the topic turns to an interest of A’s that B does not share, B usually ends up monologuing about how much they dislike the interest. These monologues often turn into teardowns of A as a person that the rest of us awkwardly sit through. A and B have a lot of their fights in public, and they’re mean to each other.

At this point, I’ve seen enough meanness that I don’t consider B a close friend anymore, and I’m wavering on A. I like both of them, but the way they’re willing to treat each other in public, especially the way B treats A, throws up a lot of red flags.

Any good options? I’m worried that if I tell A that I don’t like how B treats her, it’ll torpedo my friendships with both of them. C is A’s best friend, E is B’s best friend, and D is about to be A’s roommate, so it’s not like I can avoid either of them. And I do still like them, especially A. When it’s just the two of us, A is a good friend.

What do I do? I’m tempted to bring it up to our other friends, but I don’t like talking behind people’s backs.

Readers sometimes send Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them. If you’d like to submit a question for a Good Advice Interlude, use the “ask” form!

What a surprise it is, going on a decade-plus of Bad Advice, to finally have some TTRPG drama on the blog! ("Table-top role-playing games," for the uninitiated.) The Bad Advisor is all too familiar with the Darth Partner/Missing Stair dynamic (h/t Captain Awkward, the Pervocracy) in TTRPG scenarios and it's a real goddamned bummer, because you can mostly scoot away from the DP/MS at a party but when you're stuck at the gaming table with them, woof.

My first inclination, as an old-ass gamer lady, was to simply tell you that B will probably just move the fuck on from your group now that they're graduated and doing non-college things, but that doesn't help you in the moment, and they might not, and frankly DP/MS folks will show up for your entire fucking life if you're a game-type person in many and various modes, and it's good to figure out how you're going to handle them now and get some practice in with not tolerating nonsense in your circle. I'm gonna use some elaborate/belabored RPG metaphors in this response and want to emphasize that it doesn't mean your life is a game! (I also believe TTRPG life is real life, because it's my real life, too!) But you've given me a delightful tableau within which to work.

Your instincts for not just straight-up shit-talking and gossiping about A and B's deal are correct! You will never be able to keep those conversations totally private (nothing that starts in the TTRPG side-chat ever stays in the TTRPG side-chat), and for both A and B, it will suck to inevitably find out that their buds were engaged in such conversations. Is it possible you could safely feel out the other members of the group on the A/B relationship dynamic, as a fact-finding, temperature-taking mission? MAYBE. But it's a very risky maybe IMO, and if you don't love the dynamic, I don't necessarily think you need side-chat validation on this point. You have information the other players may or may not have; you are entitled to act upon it. I think we dispense with C, D, and E. You aren't them, and you can't control what they do or say or feel, and they aren't asking me for advice. But you can model behavior and steer your party!

So. What are you gonna do?

You start by describing B as a friend, but waffle on that some -- you've become less close because you dislike B's treatment of/behavior around A, which is fair! You're allowed to decide, with new information about how B behaves in particular situations, that you don't really like parts of a person, or maybe even that person at all! You don't have to set the whole motherfucker on fire to make your feelings known in a thoughtful, polite, and even kind way; if somebody else (B) blows that shit up, it's on them! They are a whole other person who will act a way in a game/life that you cannot control; the only thing you need to feel good about at the end of your turn is that you did something that was true to you/your character. Because for real, if there's one thing I know about people, it's that telling people to do a thing because you want them to do a thing (such as: "Y'all are miserable and you should split up!") will almost always result in the told-parties doubling down on the opposite of what the telling-party wants them to do. (This is what I do to torture my folks when I am the dungeon-master, because it is what people do!)

Assuming we're talking about garden variety shitty relationship behavior (which is what I think you've described here) and not full-scale abuse in public, I think you have a number of options depending on the situation. I don't mean to suggest that you should accommodate bad behavior; you already know that feels crappy and sows discord and confusion because you're doing it, now, by trying to side-step around the ick. You gotta choose your move depending on where you are on the board.

The next time A and B get into it in front of everybody (during a game, or at the bar, or the coffee shop, or the student union, or wherever), you pretend-roll a charisma check and imagine you got a 15+ and they rolled a combined 3 (because they have??? nobody likes this!!!!), and you say something to this effect: "Hey, A and B? These vibes are not great, can we table this tiff until later?" Repeat as needed! Passive voice/vague antecedents are great in these kinds of situations: "Can folks not get into this right now?"/"Moving on! Let's focus on XYZ!"/"Feels like we're getting off track — can we do ABC instead?"/"Wow! That's kind of awkward and private! Let's not do that here!" If it helps, imagine B is the obnoxious NPC you need to get the bare minimum of compliance out of to continue the game of not blowing up the entire situation. You already have a good bead on what people do when they feel attacked, because you're literally playing games wherein that make-believe happens! People fight back and get defensive! It's a bad scene!

Other people's bad relationships are theirs to solve, so you can treat interactions regarding those relationships as open-ended puzzle games that are not for you to finish. You are the Oracle, not the puzzlemaster. If you get A or B on their own in a safe space where you're not rushed to get somewhere or hungry or otherwise pissy or wanting, why not ask: How does it feel when A/B does that? What would you like to see happen instead when Bad interaction happens? What might you do about that irritating/annoying/weird thing A/B does? Despite what I said in the prior bullet points, your friends are not NPCs, and of course you know this or you wouldn't be asking — they are the main characters in their own lives, and you can neither save nor sink them.

It might be that A and B stay in this weird bad relationship! If it continues to cause bad vibes at the game nights/within your circle, I think you're well within your rights to say, either to one or both of them if they haven't gotten previous messages: "Hey, I like you both, I want to keep doing XYZ fun things with y'all, but this dynamic is actually really, legitimately killing the vibe, because I don't get to see the fun part where y'all make up and feel good about everything, I only see the bad arguing parts and it's just a real downer!" Don't let them off the hook about this! Stand your ground when they come back with "Oh, we're just joking" or "Ah, well, that's just how we are." Okay, they're joking and that's how they are, but it SUCKS TO BE AROUND and if it's not a big deal, they can cut that shit out!

The whole deal blows, and you're in a sorry position to have to navigate it. It just absolutely is a shit situation to have a friend-group whose dynamic is messed up in this way. But you're asking because your interest is in maintaining a collective good-feeling, and I can promise you that skipping the missing stair of A and B's bad vibes (and maybe specifically B's behavior) will absolutely in the long-term result in the precise kind of bad-feeling you're trying to avoid by skating past it today. Resentment, distrust, annoyance, back-channeling — all of the things we build and do to avoid being emotionally honest with people who care about because we think it'll hurt less in the moment, or get better later, or just change, somehow — are also 10000000% guaranteed ways to push us farther apart from the people we love, rather than keep us close and friendly.

Your people will always be your people. You have a wonderful and beloved friend group, and you will lose and add members of your party throughout your life, but you will never lose any people who were supposed to be your people if you commit to being kindly forthright while modeling your needs, boundaries, and appreciations for them. This isn't a skill you pick up once and do automatically forever; it takes work and commitment throughout your life and it's fucking annoying and awkward and so, so worth it.

[claire-elvisgirl]

MY LITTLE FRIEND 3/3

Summary: Elvis is your daddy’s best friend. He’s been around your family since you were a little girl, you practically grew up together never minding the age gap between you two. He starts to feel something for you. Is he ready to let his feeling go and ruin a long-life friendship?

Warnings: +18, age gap (f 20/m 33), angst, sadness.

You were still embraced together while the door of your room opened and your father came in. Elvis saw him standing by the door, and he tried to quickly remove his body from you, but it was too late. Your father was shocked and he couldn’t believe what was happening before his eyes. Elvis looked at him and he felt like he had no way out. You tried to get up to cover yourself as Elvis got up and dressed.

“Bob, I-I can explain, I promise, please don't be mad at me! I know it was...it was wrong, and I'm sorry…”

Bob could not even talk. Elvis got close to him: “I...I am deeply sorry, but she was always making me feel a certain way about her. I mean...” he turned and looked at you “...she looked so beautiful…I couldn’t resist!”

Your father looked at him shocked: “You dirty son a bitch!! I thought we were friends...you’re a bastard!”

Elvis nodded. His face looked sad, like he was about to cry.

“Yes, Bob, I guess I am a bastard, but I felt she needed me. Please, Bob, don't be mad at me, I'm just...I just couldn’t help myself…”

You started to cry. Elvis hugged you while he held you close to him. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Ya know that everything I did was for love. I love ya so much. You don't know what it means to me to be yours. You're my angel. You're my babydoll. You're my...my everything and I just couldn’t help it. I don't care what anyone says, I'm in love with ya.”

Bob was furious at Elvis. He grabbed him by the shirt and shook him. "After all these years with us...you were my best friend! How could you do such a thing to me? And to her!”

Elvis kept looking at Bob while he tried to think of a way out. He was scared to death and he was not sure about what to say. “Bob please, don't be mad at me. I'm sorry, I...I just love her too much. I have nothing but respect and admiration for you and your family!”

Bob pointed a finger to him: "Take your fuckin’ ass out of this house! I don't wanna see you ever again!"

Elvis's eyes opened even wider and he took a step back. He looked at you and he felt really bad for what he had done. He looked at Bob and he realized he had made a big mistake. Elvis didn’t say anything and he didn’t put up a fight, he just turned around and left the house without saying another word.

While he left, he looked at you and sent you a lip message: "I’ll always...love...you".

You cried all your tears out as you watched Elvis living the house. You looked at your father and you couldn’t believe what just happened. You couldn’t believe that the man you understood to love was leaving forever. You couldn’t stop crying and you kept thinking about Elvis saying "I will always love you" before leaving the house. You father just kept looking at you with an angry look on his face. You stopped crying and tried to control yourself before trying to talk to him.

“Daddy, please, listen to me, I...I love him, daddy. I love Elvis. I know what happened was wrong and I'm so sorry, but I love him. I can't control how I feel for him, daddy. There's just something about him...I don't know how to explain it, Daddy. I just love him and I...I can't just stop loving him because of what happened. Please, try and understand that, okay?”

Your father tried to stay calm as he talked to you: “You love him? You are in love with my best friend? Why Elvis, of all people?”

“Yes daddy, I love him!” you replied.

He turned back at you: “Don't you think I could tell, y/n? Don't you think I could tell when you looked at him? When you smiled at him with those innocent little eyes...Don't you think I wouldn't notice when you'd sit all close to him and how you'd give them special looks? Don't think I wouldn't notice when you'd blush and get all shy when you were around him? Don't you think I didn't ever see that look in your eyes, y/n? I only thought...it was just a child infatuation!”

You got angry and you shouted at your father with all the rage you could gather up. “You don’t understand! You never gave me any attention!!! You were always working and you never cared about me or treated me like your daughter! You only used me when you needed help!!! Elvis loved me and he took care of me!!! Elvis is the only one who saw me and who really wanted me!!! Elvis was never like you, he always took time to be my friend, he always took time to be a better father than you'll ever be!!!”

As she said those words she stepped back. Bob's eyes opened up in surprise while he realized that you had just called Elvis "daddy" and he's shocked.

“Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

Bob's face went from fury to sadness while he realized that it might be his fault that you and Elvis have started to have feelings for each other. "I left you alone with him? Is that what you're trying to say? I left you two alone? Did I? That’s why you fell in love with him?"

Your father started to calm himself down and he took a deep breath before speaking to you again.

"Y/n, can't you see what he did to you? Do you see what you're allowing him to do to you? Do you think he really loves you with all the other girls he probably sleeps with? Don't you understand? Do you understand that he's using you?"

You replied crying. "It's not true! He...he said he loves me!"

He shook you even harder and he pointed his finger at you, while he raised his voice once again.

"No, y/n, he doesn't love you, and you know it! He's just using you for his own pleasure! He wants to use you and then throw you away like all the others, like garbage! You're nothing to him, you're not special! He just said he loves you because he knew you were going to fall for it! You think Elvis Presley loves you, come on y/n, wake up! He doesn't love you at all!"

Then you confessed you last secret: "You're wrong! I gave him everything I had...EVERYTHING. If you know what I mean..."

Your father just looked at you in shock while his mouth remained open as he heard what you just said. He couldn’t believe what he just heard and he didn’t know how to react to this anymore. His face changed again, this time it was a mix between shame and disappointment. He looked at you again. He looked like he wanted to scream in frustration and anger, but at the same time, he felt disappointed in himself. He couldn’t believe you gave yourself completely to Elvis and he felt like it's his fault. He felt like he failed to protect you.

You hugged your father. "Don't blame yourself dad. It's my fault...but I can’t stay here doubting if he loves me or not. I have to go after him!"

He would scream at you and put some sense into your head, but he couldn’t. He knew that you already made your choice and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Y/n baby, I beg you, please think twice about what you're doing. Listen to your daddy who loves you, who has done nothing to hurt you or break your heart.”

Your daddy hugged you as he looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness and he looked at you as you hugged him back. He didn’t say anything as he let you talk. He felt ashamed of himself and he felt sad for what happened to you. He didn’t know what to say and he felt completely devastated. He took a deep breath and took your hand as he spoke in a calm and sad voice.

"Y/n, sweetheart, you don't have to do that. You don't have to go to him. Please, please don't do it."

“I have no choice!” you replied.

He stopped himself while he took a deep breath. "Y/n, stop this little game and listen to me. You can't go and see Elvis. Your place is here, with me. I've taken care of you all these years and I will not let you just leave. Don't you understand, baby? You're my angel, you're mine. Do you understand that? You're mine!"

“I’m sorry!” You ran away looking for Elvis.

Your father tried to control himself as he watched you run away. All he could think about was that he's failed to protect you and that he's lost his daughter. He thought about how much he loved you and how much you meant to him. He run after you while he shouted out you name. “Please come back! Please come back to me!”

You kept on looking for Elvis, while your father kept chasing after you. All he could think about was that he had to find you before you find Elvis. He ran faster than he ever had in years and he was determined to catch you. He was breathing harder and he could feel his heart beating faster and faster.

Finally you found Elvis and you called him. The moment you found Elvis, your daddy’s heart started to sink even lower while he stopped running. He stopped and just watched you in silence as you started to run towards Elvis. Elvis noticed you run towards him, while your father kept running to catch you up as fast as he could. He was still shouting your name while Elvis smiled at you. Just as you were about to reach Elvis, your father arrived and grabbed you by your arm and stopped you. Elvis kept looking at you, while your father watched you with a mix of anger and disappointment and tried to understand what was going on.

Elvis just smiled to you while your dad kept asking you and demanding an answer.

"Why? Why did you do this, sweetheart? Why did you go looking for him? Answer me!"

You looked to Elvis: “Elvis, the only reason why I'm here is...I have to ask you a question...”

Your father was listening to you too and he was still holding you, so you couldn’t move. You looked to Elvis again: “Elvis...you have to answer me sincerely. Do you love me?”

Elvis just kept staring at you with a little smile on his face while his eyes sparkled with love and affection for you. As your father watched, his anger turned into concern for you. He could see how happy and in love you were with Elvis and how you were asking him such an important question. Elvis came close to you: “I do, y/n. He answered you with a soft voice, while he still had that smile on his face. "I do love ya with every inch of my heart. I love ya with all I have and all I ever will."

You ran to him and held him tight. Then you told to your father: “Daddy please, we're really in love. I know we made a mistake, but now, we can make it up". You kissed Elvis’ lips softly.

Your dad stared at the two of you while you were hugging each other. He sighed before speaking in a soft and sad voice: "Y/n, sweetheart, I love you so much. Just promise me that you'll be alright."

“I promise daddy...he's gonna take care of me. I'm sure about that!” you answered sweetly.

Your father swallowed his pride and he watched you and Elvis hugging each other tightly as Elvis kissed your cheek. He sighed and he tried to hold back his tears.

Your father came silently to you: "All right, just be careful. And you Elvis...I don’t know if I will be ever able to forgive you, but I have to tell you just one thing and it’s very important: take good care of my baby, she really means the world to me." Then he turned his back and left.

“I will Bob...” Elvis answered. “...I will!”