#apologies if the imagine is really long

[illusionarylibrary]

𝓘𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱

CW: Mention of death, light gore

└───❀*̥˚ ──•❃°•°❀°•°❃•── ❀*̥˚ ───┘

- You were one of the spirits that dwelled around human settlements. You kept the villages safe from the horrors of the North, so the humans returned their gratitude with respect and honor.

- In the North, where the rest of your kin lived, it was relatively peaceful till the red vines took over. You and the rest of the spirits were forcibly pushed out, infected, or killed; no one was safe.

- Many humans and spirits, including you, were infected even if the victim hadn’t noticed at the time. Soon, everyone, fled the lands to seek safety elsewhere.

- You headed from mountain to mountain trying to find a safe place to live, but the vines would always find you. Eventually, you noticed that you had been infected.

- Luckily, the vines disappeared…along with any familiarity of your surrounds. You were somewhere new.

- You spent the first few years gathering information about where you landed. It seemed that the vines couldn’t reach you. And so you were safe for the time being.

- A couple ages later, the Fellowship was struggling through the deep snow along The Pass of Caradhras; Saruman had ambushed them and brought down an avalanche to bury them.

- The poor members were faced with either resisting the blizzard or trraveling to Moria, and with Frodo’s opinion, they would go under the mountain. However, the trip down would be much harder with the fresh snow.

- They all started on their way, trying to backtrack to the base of the mountain. Eventually, Merry became distracted by a bright orange spot in the middle of white.

- He turned to Pippin and they started whispering about the weird dot of color in the snow. It wasn’t until Boromir, who was slightly behind the two hobbits, noticed they stopped walking.

- Merry and Pippin then started pointing out very excitedly that they saw a tiny dot of orange in the snowy background. Boromir looked to where the hobbits were pointing and did see the strange orange dot.

- The rest of the Fellowship realized three of their members weren’t following behind; soon enough, everyone was trying to get a glimpse of what Merry and Pippin spotted.

- The little orange dot slowly but gradually started growing. It was coming closer to them.

- Everyone had their guard up now due to their poor vision and lack of knowledge about the orange dot. Not even Gandalf was aware of who or what this was. But it grew near.

- Eventually, it was so close they could make out the shape of an animal; a fox to be specific. They were surprised to see an orange fox in the snowy pass.

- You were surprised as well. You didn’t recognize these folk and they seemed to be troubled by your appearance. You’ve seen other people tread the pass, however, it was never during a blizzard. What could these people be doing here at a time like this?

- The hobbits along with Gandalf were the first to put down their weapons, only keeping their guard up in case the fox attacked. Next was Aragorn and Legolas, both keeping their weapon in hand pointing them to the ground. Boromir and Gimli were the only ones of the group that still had their weapons raised; sure it wasn’t really necessary, but tensions were high and they weren’t ready to relax atop a mountain pass.

- You could feel that something about the situation was off, so you decided to help them down the mountain. You helped the kinds humans back at home, why couldn’t you do it once more, before time ran out?

- You noticed four creatures, with abnormally large feet, that you’ve never seen before. How interesting!

- Oh, must focus on your task.

- Pippin was surprised as the fox gently bit into his cloak and backed up with a tugging motion. He went along with you and the other close behind.

- You took them to a more safer path even with the thick snow and blizzard. The group finally let their guard down once they felt the route was safe enough.

- You and the others made your way to the base of the mountain with less difficultly than before. The time came when the Fellowship was off to head for Moria.

- It was also time for you to wander once more. You turned around and slowly trotted away atop the snow. Perhaps you could visit some of the villages again. Many were welcoming to your presence and guidance.

- “Hey, wait! Where d’ya think you’re going?!”

- It was one of the tiny, big footed creatures. They were calling for you to come back. Turning around again, you hesitantly trotted to the tiny person’s hand.

- “We didn’t get t’thank you for your help! I’m Pipping, that’s Merry, and Boromir, and Frodo, and Sam, and…”

- You spaced out as you gazed at the many faces of your ex-followers. They were smiling at you, unlike the first time when they appeared wary.

- Pippin dragged you towards the other hobbits and started showing you off as if you were an old friend. The others were laughing saying “Of course we know our guide!” or “Pippin, we were also on the mountain with you!”

- The others’ smiles widened seeing their fellow members playing with you, Merry and Pippin trying to saddle you like a horse. They were fairly interested in what you were doing in the pass.

- They also took notice that parts of your fur seemed to be stained with red and black; they others assumed it was part of your coat, but that didn’t stop them from being concerned should something was wrong.

- “Mmm, enough of your fool’s play. We must make our way to Moria.” The old looking magic man spoke to the group and started down the path.

- With two of the four tiny people on your back, you also trailed behind the magic man and in front of a stout, thick-bearded man.

- As the days passed by, whenever your group stopped, you decided to pull your weight by hunting for the group. Bringing back birds, fish, and other available creatures, the tiny chef would hand you some of the food you caught.

- Along the road, you were deemed “Forncala” by your friends, specifically Aragorn and Legolas. The hobbits, and Gimli, were the first to try and name you. Although it was Aragorn and Legolas’s suggestion of the elvish word “North” as your name. A way to never forget your origins.

- The first half of Forncala stuck like tree sap. You would respond to only “Forn” while when called with “Fluffy”, “Red”, and “Fern” you didn’t react.

- The second half “Cala” came from one of the nights your group was attacked by orcs. It was a surprise attack with the orcs being fruitful in their attempts at putting out your fire. The only ones who weren’t struggling in the dark were Legolas, Gandalf, and you of course.

- While fighting off the many orca, you were fast to notice your more unfortunate friends struggling in the dark. So you shook into your guardian form and began dashing around the orcs.

- It helped in distracting the enemy as they hadn’t suspected you to change, but it also distracted your friends. They faltered in their attack as they witnessed you produce a bright light blue glow.

- But just as you hoped, your friends were able to turn the tides and kill off the remaining orcs. Once the Fellowship gathered themselves, they inspected your new transparent body with fascination.

- It was the next night when Legolas suggested to the others of adding “cala” to your name “Forn”. And so you became Forncala, North Light.

- If only they knew how closely related your name was to your job back at home.

- Yet so continued your journey with the Fellowship to the Mines of Moria…and your friends’ never ending wonder over you.

- All was going relatively well, until you all arrived. An attack of a water monster, the cave in of the door, and now the troubles within the halls.

- The old magic man, who’s name you learned was Gandalf, commented that the halls were extremely dark and he wasn’t lying. Not even the elf, Legolas, could see far into the darkness.

- The others were successful in avoiding making too much noise, but they still complained about losing their sense of sight. So you once again provided them light; metaphorically and literally.

- You switched out of your physical form and padded gently down the halls, giving off the same recognizable light blue glow. And seeing your friend’s smiling faces was enough to tell you they were thankful for your aid.

- Soon enough, Gimli, the thick-bearded man, ran off towards a room where he fell to his knees and failed in sorrow. Gandalf softly mentioned it was as he feared…oh dear.

- You trotted up next to your sobbing friend and nuzzled against his unarmed hand. He brought you into a tight hug, one that probably would’ve hurt a regular living fox.

- Nonetheless, you stayed still and brushed your muzzle against his face and helmet. He smush his face into your fur and cried his heart out. While being cradled by the dwarrow, you thought deep into the past.

- Before your meeting of the Fellowship, there was one particular group that men of the same figure as Gimli. You caught wind that the leader’s name was Balin and his group was yet another victim of the harsh pass. Guiding them to the base, Balin told you the dwarrow would never forget your kindness, even if you were merely fox.

- This was him wasn’t it? Balin, one of your ex-followers. Oh, how tragic…how terrible to know that he and his group hadn’t survived their journey. You sat down in silence as you processed your thoughts. Could you have helped them if you stayed by their side? What if- !

- A loud bang drew you out of your thoughts. My how you kept spacing out…it wasn’t normal, but focusing back of Pippin’s figure, Gandalf yelled out in anger while the others lowered their heads in defeat.

- The banging of drums and screeching of goblins filled your ears as you peered around the room. Danger, it was approaching fast.

- Your darted to the door and growled with your canines bared and tail fluffed up. The glow from your body grew brighter as Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas barred the door.

- Dodge, duck, snap, scratch. Repeat. The troll, it threatens the hobbits. Quickly, defend them.

- Things escalated quickly as the room flooded with goblins and trolls. You did your best to keep the biggest threats at bay. breaking the goblins’ weapons and distracting them with your agility and glow, your friends were able to lessen the number enough to make an escape.

- It was unfortunate timing, but you realized your infection got worse. The black and red were spreading; it was extremely slow, but still spreading.

- After making sure Frodo was just fine, you and the group ran deeper into the mine looking for the exit. Your thoughts clouded your mind over.

- How could you keep your friends alive? What was causing the infection to spread? Should you die, would the infection spread into this world? How horrible…a wonderful place, like your old home, falling by the same red vines.

- You couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t allow it to happen. It will never happen.

- “FORN, LOOK OUT!”

- It was an instinct. Left, right, right again, jump. You knew where the debris were falling and performed you title as “guardian” perfectly.

- Everything was passing so fast, but you did your best to focus on the task at hand. Protect your friends, guide them to the light.

- You soon came to your senses when you noticed that you were in front of a broken bridge with your friend on the other side. Each one made their way over the gap, all but the magic man.

- Gandalf falling, the hobbits crying, the rest of you racing down the mountain; everything was blurring together.

- Oh you’ve stopped. You set yourself down as you began to black out. What was happening?

- Boromir was the one to inspect your side first seeing that the red and black splotches was practically covering up your glow. You were…fading?

- Your light dimmed as the red and black patches forced your body back to that of a regular fox’s. The group was concerned to see you in such a state. They may have only known you for a bit, but that didn’t mean they weren’t attached to you.

- Legolas and Aragorn notified the others that the way to Lothlórien was close. If they decided to, they could meet Lady Galadriel and possibly have you healed from this strange occurrence.

- When Merry and Pippin, who were next to Boromir during the inspection, saw small leaves and plants sprouting from the blotches, they screamed at the top of their lungs, incoherent and panicked. It was then when the group unanimously agreed to meet the Lady Galadriel, even if Gimli was wary of her.

- As they hurried, the hobbits and Boromir kept a track of the plants and vines. They were helpless as they watched your fur gradually fade into a deep red with black patches fading here and there.

- The vines sprouting from those patches slowly wrapped around your neck and paws. Small bulbs came up with the tiny sprouts; it was terrifying and painful to see.

- You were unresponsive to anything, even your name. You hadn’t moved since you passed out in Boromir’s gloved hands.

- Your blood was staining Boromir’s gear, but he could care less as he saw the small vines taking over your body.

- Everyone was worried, but luckily for you, it wasn’t time just yet.

[zer0pm]

Trigger

Luis Serra x GN!Reader

A/N: Here it is. A one-shot to this imagine prompt I posted. Wanted to see if I could pull off a serious Luis and… may have gone overboard lol, but hope you enjoy nonetheless.

Warnings: character death (maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), cursing/swearing

“Run, Luis!” you plead. “Run before I shoot you!”

The man chuckles under his breath, “Think you can get rid of me that easily?”

How did it come to this?

One moment, you and the team are making your way to Luis Serra’s laboratory to remove the parasites inside of you, your partner Leon S. Kennedy, and the US President’s daughter Ashley Graham, and the next, well…

“Condor Two, put down the gun! That’s an order.”

“I’m fucking trying!”

It happened so quickly. Luis’ suppressants wore off much sooner than any of you had anticipated and you keeled over suddenly, overwhelmed by scalding pain so intense that you were certain you were going to pass out. Luis was the first to rush to your side, he asked a series of questions with a tone uncharacteristic from his usual easy-going demeanor. However, his concerned inquiries were nothing but muffled noise as a deafening ring gnawed at every corner of your brain and your body grew so intensely hot it was as if you were being burned from the inside out.

It felt like torture.

It felt like you were dying.

Give in.

The moment you regained your senses, the situation only got worse. And here you are now…

Ashley is cowering behind Leon.

Luis is a ways in front of you with both of his hands up in the air.

Leon has his gun pointed towards you.

You have your gun aimed at Luis.

You try to lower your weapon, but your muscles wouldn’t relax. You try to step back, face away from everyone- from him, but your feet refuse to move an inch. The grip of the pistol in your hand tightens and you had to summon everything you had not to squeeze the trigger even though your fingers were violently twitching to do just so. Everything was hurting so much.

Give in, little lamb.

Leon barks at you to put down your firearm and you spit back that you were trying. You are trying, trying so hard. And you are failing. Something, or rather, someone else was hijacking you.

Do not resist, child.

“Shut up!” You snap. “Get the fuck out of my head!”

A flash of understanding appears across Luis’ face who has been carefully watching you this entire time. “It’s Saddler,” he says out loud. “He’s using the plaga to gain control.”

Your ears pick up Ashley’s frantic sobs and you remember that she experienced the same thing, she knows all too well what was happening to you at this moment. Saddler is trying to turn you against your companions. More specifically, he wants you to-

Kill Luis Serra.

At just the thought alone, your fingers threaten to take the shot. You manage to wrestle control back to your other hand, swiftly bringing your free hand over your disobedient one and slotting your finger behind the pin without a second thought. The pin pushes against the skin of your digit so hard that it was beginning to break skin, but you endure. Your whole body is shaking.

Poor child. You are only prolonging the inevitable.

“Run, Luis!” you warn through gritted teeth, grateful that you still have your voice. “Run before I shoot you!”

At your words, the Spaniard grimaces, his lips turn into a thin line, his grey eyes darken. Never before have you seen such an expression on him. Then, he chuckles under his breath, “Think you can get rid of me that easily?”

The nerve of this guy, you swear…. Thankfully, Leon became the voice of reason.

“Move out of the line of fire, Luis,” he ordered. But the other man didn’t budge and you can feel the palpable urgency in Leon’s voice. “Come on! We gotta get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving,” Luis spoke up, his eyes directed towards you. “I’m not leaving you.”

Any other time this would have been touching. You and him have been stuck together throughout this entire horrifying adventure so of course you would forge a bond. While there were countless times where you wanted to punch him in the face, there were more times where the man’s ever present smile and unparalleled flair stopped you from doing so. You became fond of Luis and his antics, especially of all the times that he tried to charm you with that Spanish bravado unique only to him (not that you would ever admit any of this to him nor admit that he had affected you in any way). And it was because of your fondness that you knew you had to throw all sentimentality away the moment you were losing yourself to the voice in your head.

“This is no time to act all chivalrous, Luis Serra!” You shout desperately. “Saddler is going to make me kill you if you don’t beat it.”

“No. You haven’t lost. Saddler hasn’t taken over completely. Otherwise, we would be hearing him speak right now. Pero no,” the Spaniard counters, his stubbornness matching yours. “You can fight this.”

His bull-headed faith stirred something within you. A desire to do as he says and resist the virus consuming you. He was giving you hope. Spreading it from himself to you. Like an infection.

Kill him.

You snap back to reality. “We’re not doing this. You have to run. You have to get away!”

Leon interjects once again on your behalf, “Ashley needs to get to the lab fast, Luis. If your equipment can cure us both, I can come back and fix this. But we have to move. Now.” Despite his rationality even you can tell that the blond agent was threatening to go over the edge off the tension between you all in his attempts to sway your mutual ally with reason. “We still have a chance.”

Unfortunately, Luis being Luis, a man of honor and integrity, he refuses. “No,” he says firmly. “I won’t take that risk. If we don’t beat this now, it’s over.”

Before you can fully register the weight of his words, his actions portray his intentions clearly. The dark-haired man began closing the gap between you two. Panic pours over you like a bucket of ice water and you are practically screaming inside for your body to listen to you. To lower the damn gun and get away from him. To keep him away from you. To keep him safe. It was no use.

Like cattle up for the slaughter. Kill him now. Take the Amber.

“Stay back!” To your terror, your hands involuntarily lift the gun so that it was pointing straight at his face. The stubborn man didn’t flinch and he did not heed your warning.

“The last time someone sent me away,” he speaks calmly, “I lost them forever.”

He continues walking straight until he was well within the sights of your pistol. If you shoot now, no matter how fast you moved your hand away, it wouldn’t matter. It would be fatal.

And yet, there still isn’t an ounce of fear in Luis’ eyes.

What the hell is he doing? Is he actually trying to get himself killed?

Yes. Kill him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head wildly in the futile hopes that whatever gripped its hold over you would finally relent and disappear. Luis must have sensed the agonizing conflict within you as you hear him gently call you out, effectively pulling your focus back to the surface. Your name upon your lips felt like a soothing caress upon your raging mind. When you open your eyes, he had a smile across his lips. It was different from the coy, teasing ones he usually wears around you. It felt sincere and comforting, like he was silently assuring you that everything will be okay. His grey eyes captures you, the look in his gaze is intense and unwavering. The way he’s staring at you now makes it feel like you are the only thing in the room to him.

“Otra vez no. Not again.”

He grabs the barrel of your pistol and you thanked whatever gods there were that you still had the strength to stop yourself from firing your gun. But when you thought the man would help you move the gun off his person, he shocks you even further. With a slow push, he lowers your aim until the gun was positioned right over his chest where his heart beats.

This guy really wants to die!?

Leon shouts out before you, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

The man looks over his shoulder slightly, he seems to ponder over Leon’s words and after a moment, he sighs with a somber nod.

“Puede que tengas razón. I must be.” He smiles sadly. “The most insane man on this whole island.”

Luis returns his attention to you, his expression relaxes ever so slightly at the sight of you despite the terrified, confused look upon your face.

“Escúchame,” he began, his voice low in an almost intimate whisper. “When I took the plaga out of my body, I did it out of a sense of duty. Not out of a desire for self-preservation. I’ve already led a pretty shitty life, you know? The world would be better off without me in it. Pero, I first wanted to correct my mistakes. Set things right. That way, uh, when I finally died, I’d have left doing some real good for once.”

His words were shaky and you come to the conclusion then that he was nervous. Yet amidst his evident anxiousness, Luis seemed like he was genuinely speaking from the chest for once with none of the dodgy, playful attitude he usually wears like a tattoo upon his skin. He was a completely different person before your eyes. Knowing this, knowing he is showing this side of himself to you, made each word out of his mouth weigh heavily on your heart.

“But then we met. Chained together by some sick twist of fate. And from that moment on, we’ve been stuck together, fighting alongside each other, protecting one another. Sure, I may have abused my charm to get you to accept my services and I’m fairly certain that you despise me now for being the cause of all of this suffering but….” he pauses, it was first time you’ve ever seen the man like this. As if his life depended on every word he was giving you and he needed to get it down right.

After another moment passes, Luis chuckles lowly like he just remembered a sad joke before catching your gaze again. “Being by your side, it felt like I was finally breathing for the first time in years. Breathing like a man who wants to live for something worthwhile. And it’s all because of you.”

Your eyes widen at his raw confession.

Luis continues, not waiting for you to respond, “You are the light that pulled me from the darkness. My light. Mi luz. And if it makes me crazy to want to stay with you to fight this virus when I’m just a trigger pull away from death, then so be it. I’m crazy. But I’m not leaving your side. No hay manera.”

No way. He’s being completely real right now and you swear your heart bursted out of your chest. Again, he doesn’t wait for you to speak.

“¿Comprende?”, he moves his free hand to your neck, not to wrap around your throat, rather to cradle your cheek in his palm. His touch felt warm and his eyes reflect his burning resolve. “I’m not going anywhere without you. So you have to fight. Fight against the darkness, mi luz. Fight, and let’s get out of here together.”

When he finished, you were crying. You don’t know when the tears started flowing but you know you must be quite a sight with the heavy wet streaks down your face. Luis didn’t seem to mind though, nothing but pure adoration on his dashing face.

“You are the worst, you know that?” you finally say after what seemed like an eternity, reigning in your sobs, deeply moved by Luis’ heartfelt declaration and faith in you. He laughs at your half-hearted snark. “For the record, I don’t despise you. Not even a little.”

Soft smiles and lingering looks exchange between you two. In his eyes, you saw deep longing and hopeful promises that needn’t be said aloud. You returned them with a silent nod, acknowledgment that his affection was not one-sided and the man graces you with that radiant smile you have grown to adore.

Luis really does have a beautiful smile.

It almost made you forget for a moment that the infection was taking over you.

Do it.

“Leon,” you croaked, straining to get your words out, but remained firm in your conviction. Your fellow agent meets your eyes and a mutually understanding was made. “Do it.”

Confusion furrows Luis’ brow and the sound of Leon cocking his gun made the man tense.

Poor little lamb.

“I’m sorry, Luis.”

“¡NO!”

Shot fired.

[reel-fear]

MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!

grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.

[poisonouspastels]

I need to talk about Minecraft AU for a sec and how the difference between our world and their world makes for some of the most humorous but also interesting differences in how people act about certain subjects.

Like the trans thing right. Steve and Rana are both trans I've talked about that before. And neither of them are on hormone replacement or anything (there is an in universe explanation as to why Steve has a beard though I promise I can talk about that if anyone wants) but like that's fine bc it literally Doesn't Matter to them or anyone else. Like as spawned players they already don't have any pre-existing gender roles or ideas of what something "should" be so gender and presentation is what they make of it and there's no real solid idea in anyone's mind about how a "boy" or "girl" behaves or looks like. These are labels that exist but they barely mean anything. It also helps that any preexisting culture that WOULD have ideas of this was almost entirely destroyed like 5000 years ago (thanks Groda) so it matters even less than it already did.

And its funny bc the only two people alive from that era, White Eyes and Groda also just don't care. Groda maybe asks why Rana's voice sounds deeper once and nearly gets torn apart by Alex bc of it (Rana isn't offended or anything she just has a defensive girlfriend), bc she doesn't really understand because she never experienced anything like this first hand but very quickly comes to understand it and accept it. And on the other hand White Eyes is just like "I've seen weirder things than this" which yeah. Yeah honestly I think the person who was previously one with the undead would not care about gender in the grand scheme of things.

And then u have Kai which I've joked before that they may as well have been spawned in nonbinary. They rlly just said "I'm not really anything" and everyone was like yeah makes sense I vibe with it. Good for u.

Steve and Rana are both fairly open about having been the opposite genders previously (because that's how they view their experiences and that's valid!) and don't really shy away from the subject but also never really have much reason to talk about it since there's rarely a need to. In the modern day pretty much everyone who met them had met them post-transition. Even Alex had met them just before Steve started growing in his beard. The only people who ever knew them as Adam and Eve were Efe and Sunny but they never really thought it was weird or anything. Like the weirdest part to them was Steve saying he got his epiphany from seeing some guy in the distance on a foggy day who looked vaguely like him but that's its own subject manner that they aren't going to pry on.

Also Steve did DIY top "surgery" previously with a sword but we aren't going to talk about how messy that was for everyone involved.

[melonnade]

FUYUMI TODOROKI.

[merge-conflict]

catch for us the foxes

cyberhanami day 3: "love is blindness"

content warning: none, just pure fluff :)

Valentine/Goro

summary: Five times Valentine and Goro ignored each other's flaws, and one time they didn't.

The Coffee

If there was one thing about Abernathy that V could still appreciate, it was her commitment to stocking her conference room with the best array of coffee Night City could offer, freshly ground and pleasingly presented. Their weekly status meeting was immeasurably improved by the aroma alone, and it was the one day of the week that she was eager to reach work early. Still, no matter how early she managed to arrive, Goro was nearly always there before her, looking well rested and without a hair out of place.

This morning was much the same, and V slid into her chair, trying not to stare at his back as he busied himself making his usual cup. Once, he had talked at great length about the virtues of tea, from the plant to the processing to the ritual of consuming it, and so it was only with great difficulty that she endured the sight of him configuring the machine to brew the ugliest, thickest, oiliest brew of coffee it could create only to cut it with an obscene amount of milk and sugar. That he viewed even the finest coffee only as a convenient source of caffeine was endurable, but to watch him produce such a monstrosity in front of her was too much to bear.

V dove into the sanctuary of her interface instead, opening her neglected inbox and sorting through the newest wave of emails. So distracted was she that the sound of a heavy mug clinking onto the table made her jump. She dismissed her interface to find her preferred blend steaming gently in front of her. It was brewed to perfection, smooth and with just the barest hints of chocolate, without being muddled by pointless additives. Goro, settling into the seat across from her, returned her smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling momentarily before Abernathy entered the room.

2. “Food”

The past few weeks had been illuminating in several respects when it came to understanding the daily life of office drones, but Goro sometimes wished he had remained ignorant. He didn’t often have a reason to spend much time in the special operations war room, thankfully, and so was able to avoid the pervasive aura of stress and body odor– but what time V did not spend cloistered with Abernathy in her office she spent here. It gave him the opportunity to observe her in her natural work environment.

Normally she always knew when he walked into a room unless his interface was running silent, but it had been twenty minutes and she was still oblivious to anything outside of her computer screen. From the looks of her and her companions, they’d been working in the room since the previous night, no doubt poring over the data that had recently been recovered.

V stood abruptly, as though summoned by something, with the same determined look in her eyes that she had when she had decided to stab someone. Her aim today, however, was the small table shoved in the far corner of the room which served as a mini-canteen, stacked with all manner of plastic-wrapped garbage, all of which could scarcely be called food. She walked by him twice without noticing him, returning to her workstation with a plate stacked with two grayish lumps, which he supposed were intended to resemble burritos.

He could not help but watch in fascinated horror as she sat back down and proceeded to methodically eat both, one after the other, with exactly the same number of bites– as though it were something she had done many times before. It was entirely revolting, and yet, when she had finished she sat back with a privately satisfied smile which reminded him how she had stolen his heart. If he tuned his hearing and listened closely he could just pick out the faint sound of her humming, and he had to look away, or risk breaking into his own smile.

3. User Experience

After the fourth time Goro frowned at the tablet in his hands, tapping at it with growing frustration, V had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying anything. No matter how long he wrestled with technology, he was incredibly resistant to even the gentlest suggestion of assistance– the only way she’d found to help was to intercept him before he became entangled, a point which had long since come and gone. If they had not been within the confines of an office, she was almost entirely certain he would have snapped the tablet in half, and only his strong sense of dignity and propriety was keeping him from doing so now.

He swore under his breath, and then looked up too quickly for her to pretend she had not been watching. “Whoever made this software should be retired.”

“The menu options aren’t laid out very well,” she said, diplomatically.

“The menu?” he repeated, as though she had said something incredibly stupid. He managed to rein himself in somewhat, although he was still over-enunciating, which was a clear sign of his anger. “It is not the menu. I cannot get the blueprint to correctly rotate.”

V’s hands twitched, and she raised them enough to show him the gesture as she said, “Perhaps the screen is glitchy?”

He frowned deeply, inhaling before he set his jaw, the muscle at his temple jumping. To her great surprise he held the tablet out to her, although he looked like he would have preferred to hurl it into the nearest wall. “Show me.”

She kept her face neutral as she took it from him. The diagram he was looking at was rotating around some arbitrary point rather than the center, which was causing some strange behavior because of its size. Although the fix was rather simple she deliberately slowed her taps as she sorted through the menus and locked several of the settings to prevent the same sort of mistake before she corrected it and handed it back to him.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“One of the techs must have configured it wrong,” she lied, with a dismissive gesture. “Happens more often than you would think.”

“Hm.” He exhaled through his nose. “Thank you.”

“You’re the one getting me out of that office. She’s in a fine mood today,” she said, which was only partially true. “I should be thanking you.”

His expression softened, annoyance dissolving. “Of course. I am happy to be of service”

She bit the inside of her lip, practiced smiling with only her eyes. “Of course.”

4. Laundry

The room in Konpeki that V had been provided was much smaller than Goro’s own, and perhaps half the size of the apartment she had used to rent– but it did have the advantage of not being located on the same floor where Yorinobu was being held, which meant it was much less closely watched. Unfortunately, while it was not nearly as disorganized or cluttered as her previous home, it seemed to be only a matter of time before it reached such a point. The bed was clear, at least, and he could safely sit on the edge without disturbing the expanding pile of tools and hardware piled between the far side and the window.

“They’re going to miss you, aren’t they?” V asked, as she stripped off her undershirt and tossed it into a growing pile of similarly discarded clothing that blocked the bottom drawer of her dresser from opening. “Oda will.”

“Mm. Not for an hour, at least.”

“Oh.” She turned sharply on her heel, blinking as she met his eye. “This is your dinner?”

The concern in her expression was so genuine that he felt a surge of guilt for his judgment. But right on its heels was a bloom of appreciation. Once, she had been hesitant and uncertain to bare herself before him, afraid he would condemn her as Arasaka did. She still flinched occasionally under others scrutiny, but right now she stood handsome and comfortable in her own skin: the thief with his heart in her hands.

He rose. “I am not hungry.”

The corner of her mouth tugged upwards. “No?”

He hummed, pulling her a little closer so he could run his fingers up the back of her neck and be rewarded with her ravenously barbaric smile. “Perhaps I am.”

When it came down to it, he found he did not mind when his own shirt joined the top of the pile.

5. Form

If it had surprised V that Goro had agreed to bowling, it did not surprise her at all that he was good at it. He had claimed not to be practiced, but whether that was modesty or the truth she hadn’t decided. She had lied and told him she had been part of a league, once– which had naturally brought out his competitive nature. Which was the reason, as the ball clattered into the pins for a strike, that he looked so morose her composure almost cracked.

“You’re catching up,” she told him, as he rejoined her at the table.

He gave her a withering look. “Do not patronize me.”

She had to get up then, or risk laughter. In truth he was bowling very well, but in another three frames she’d have a perfect game, and his own score was marred by several spares. He was a sore loser, but what was really eating him was not her victory, but the way she was earning it.

With an unnecessary flourish she pulled her ball from the return and lined herself up on the lane. The software she was running had been refining its predictions based on her earlier performance, and so with each frame her job had gotten easier. But the real trick was the correct stance, and when she had picked her line of attack she carefully dropped into a squat, and bowled from between her legs, sending the ball rolling along the exact line trajectory projected by the software. The speed left a little something to be desired, but by the time she had walked back up to the table to retake her seat, she heard the clatter of the pins and the celebratory chime that announced a strike.

Goro’s hands were relaxed, but he was tensing the muscles in his arms so strongly she could just make out their shape through the sleeves of his shirt. “I suppose you will be choosing where we eat.”

V raised her eyebrows in an imitation of his own version of a shit-eating grin. “I guess so.”

Catch for us the foxes / the little foxes / that ruin the vineyards / our vineyards that are in bloom.

While he still had not been cleared for active duty, Goro felt better than he had in weeks. He was still adjusting to his new pair of lungs, and while he was not up to his usual standards he was more than comfortable enough to spend some time on a surprise for V. And when he was finished, there was nothing to keep him from enjoying the comfort of her couch for a well-deserved nap.

He was awoken a few hours later when V flicked him in the forehead, looming over him with an intense expression that sparked a flame in his chest. She said, “Good morning.”

“It is evening.”

“Good evening,” she said, in the same tone, the muscles in her temple jumping rapidly. “You cleaned my bench.”

“Yes,” he agreed, carefully sitting upright.

“You–“ V repeated, grinding her teeth. She turned away, taking in a deep breath before she turned back and tucked her fingers loosely into his collar. He stood up and obediently followed her restrained pull, until they both stood next to the desk that took up one entire wall of her new apartment. She paused for a moment, clearly picking her next words carefully. “How long?”

“A few hours,” he said, trying and failing to keep the smugness from his tone. “First, I had to find the clips to organize.”

The surface of the desk, once buried under several layers of broken tech and abandoned projects, was now entirely clear save for the box of tools he had organized to make it suitable for display. The largest drawer, which she now had opened, was stacked neatly with various types and lengths of cables, all neatly secured with clips. He had been required to guess the various functions of some of the objects, but while his methods had been crude, they were now organized and easy to find. V looked as though she wanted to murder him and was just working out the details.

“You did this on purpose,” she said finally. Her restlessness was starting to win out over her attempt to remain unmoved, and she smoothed down his collar and tucked all his stray hairs neatly back behind his ears.

“Yes,” he agreed again, not bothering to conceal his smile.

She grimaced, and pushed him gently back against the desk. He sat obligingly, as she pressed up against him, hands braced on his legs. She spoke through her teeth with a smile that was anything but friendly. “For the love of all that is holy Goro, why?”

He put his hand under her chin, gently stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Do you remember the last time you chose where we ate? I believe you described it as ‘your favorite place for dumplings’.”

Instantaneously all of her fury dissolved and her smile turned coy as she looked poised to break out into the same cackling laughter as she had when he had first sampled what could not in any civilized manner be described as “food”. Even now she displayed not the barest hint of regret.

“Oh,” she said, leaning into his hand.

“Mm.” He pulled her in for a chaste kiss, lingering as her thumbs dug into the meat of his thighs. “I thought so.”

“Well,” she said, sounding reasonably chastised. “I suppose now we can call it even?”

He laughed, pulling her closer by the hips. "Yes, I think so."

[reikunrei]

sleepy bc I accidentally stayed up late monologuing to myself about how free! really should have ended for the nth time 🥴

[st4rstudent]

ALRIGHTY SO- (I'm so sane and normal about these toons and cogs I swear) as I said before, personally I really like to think that brian's brain is a motherboard and/or wires/neuron like things covered in a silicone mold that made it shaped like a brain-! It would explain why when he starts getting more and more frustrated during his battle he starts overheating and eventually leading to his brain exploding at the end- (which leads me to believe that mayhaps his wiring needed some extra cooling to help him prevent that, perhaps being the reason why he has a dome head in the first place so that way it could be liquid cooled by being placed inside of- whatever brian has inside of there shchsdhs) which in turn would make the silicone brain a pretty solid idea-!! Keeps all his wiring n electricical brain bits all nice and dry, but also gives him a little flair and from the looks of it, seems like a fairly efficient way to help stop any overheating caused by his emotions or stress- (I mean he literally starts going red with rage, that's gotta be some hot pieces of parts in order to do that even with some cooling factors in place-) but what's really got my gears turning is that if he does have a sort of wiring inside of that brain mold of his, it would basically be the like- in between of cog parts and toon-ish parts-! Assuming that his wiring would help out his processors n act as any neurons should, they would not only help out his thought process (him being the self proclaimed smart man that he is /lh/lh) but it'd also allow him to feel things-!! Neurons are the main units of the brain and nervous system, they help the brain feel any sensory input from the outside, send signals to help the body control motor functions, and in general just relay electrical signals throughout the brain all the time- Which sounds very much close to what the cog equivalent of a brain could also do (and does for brian)-!! I know all the cogs have brains and all their inner bits, but I justshfhs I think it would be really cool if brian's brain had just a little bit more brain-like functions-!! I don't know if I'm making any sense here, but- if he can think, that man can feel too-!! Probably more than the average cog, but he would also probably just decide not to draw much attention to it-!! I know this started out as silly snowglobe dome talk, but in all reality I'm so very interested in the complexities that the cogs and toons have-!!! Doesn't mean I don't think it'd be silly to shake that man around and see what happens, that'd be silly- even more so to bonk him with hammers- BUT I JUSTSHFBS I THINK-!! THE COGS DESERVE SOME MORE THOUGHT INTO HOW THEY COULD ACTUALLY FUNCTION N FEEL THINGS AND WHAT THE INNER WORKINGS OF THEM COULD POSSIBLY LOOK LIKE-! BRAINS HELP SHAPE WHO WE ARE AS PEOPLE… SO I THINK IT'D BE COOL TO UNDERSTAND HOW THAT WOULD WORK WITH THE COGS AS WELL- but yeshdhghs I'm . very sorry that this got so much longer than I intended, but thank you very much for letting me ramble out my thoughts-!! I hope you enjoyed hearing some of my thought process SHCHSDHS

OHHTHIIS IS REALLY GOOD. i never even thought about him possibly having a heightened ability to feel things like touch . i imagine with his brain also moving around, there's probably other pieces in there that would also be shifting which would increase the need for it to be in a somewhat cooled down area.

BUT YEAH . it's all very interesting to think about!

[bluebellhairpin]

Been chasing the snake so I can ask it why it bit me, rather than trying to get help for the venom.

[luckynatured]

((...Is this a bad time to announce that I’m taking a small hiatus from RP?))

[rubberbandballqueen]

every time i compose long strings of text in chinese, i feel the soul of my mother creeping up over my shoulder, telling me to speak more fancily

[vinegar-doppio-official]

Im sure that if the first Thor movie was made today instead of ten years ago, emotionally charged parts like the end for example where Loki is about to be taken by the abyss would be constantly interrupted with badly executed annoying jokes to make sure the audience didn’t have to feel Bad Feeling for  more than a second and ruin the whole experience to such a degree I would shoot my brains out in the fucking theater

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[contact-guy]

I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...

content warning for drug use!

I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird

Text under the cut:

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"

[moongreenlight]

Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

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